Author's Notes: A huge thank you to all of you reviewers! For those of you who were wondering, this fic isn't going to deal with how they won the battle or how Illyria got back her powers and Fred. Characters are going to be miraculously brought back, just because this fic is for pure fun.
And I threw in some more Cheap!Angel just for you guys!
Adventureland
Despite Illyria's protestations that they should make a thorough investigation of the castle in order to ascertain it's vulnerabilities, the gang made a mad dash for Adventureland as soon as the gates opened. Angel had created a 'battle plan' for hitting each and every major attraction at the park that day, fully implementing line timing and the use of Fastpasses, which allowed guests come back to the most popular rides during a certain time period and go through a much shorter line. First on the agenda for the day was the Indiana Jones Adventure.
In no time at all they were standing at the ride, which from the outside looked like the ruins of an ancient temple. It was surrounded by dense foliage from the next door Jungle Cruise attraction. If there was one thing that set Disneyland rides apart from the rest, it was the attention to atmosphere and storyline. What made it even better was that very few of the park patrons had made it there yet. Team Angel skipped the Fastpass area commenced rushing through the open line, which Spike, the pop-culture junkie, informed them was nearly a mile long, all wrap-arounds considered. The vampire had been talking of little but the ride for the past few days, in fact. Gunn, who had attended the park once with Fred, hadn't ridden that attraction due to a closing, but nonetheless assured them all that it was 'tight.'
Illyria looked vaguely confused by this, the walls being quite open at all sides, but Wes was happily in agreement the moment they were handed decoder cards at the entrance. On each card was a translation key to the symbols that marked many of the walls along the line path.
"Fascinating!" he exclaimed, happy as a little boy. He was soon far behind the rest of the group, lingering in order to translate the first trail of symbols that he saw.
"Come on, English!" Gunn exclaimed from the next doorway. "You're holding us up!"
"But I have to translate these symbols!" Wes protested at a near-whine.
"Look, this ride's sponsored by the phone company, right? They probably just say 'dial ATT' or something. Trust me." Wes gave him a very adamant look. "Fine, you can catch up later. I give up."
About a minute later Wesley dispiritedly re-joined the gang, by that time a few rooms down. "It does," he admitted sadly, lost and disillusioned. As if by magic, his usually neat hair was mussed, his collar undone. It wouldn't have been too much of a surprise if a five-o-clock shadow suddenly arrived nine hours early.
Fred took a deep breath. Her husband looked so rumpled and cute and yet dangerously sexy when he was disillusioned. In fact, he was immediately upgraded from jumbo-popcorn to gigantic walking taco. She licked her lips.
Salivating scientists and woeful former Watchers aside, the group passed quickly into a series of large stone rooms and dimly lit hallways. The attention to detail and atmosphere was amazing, making one believe one was actually in a lost jungle temple. Wes, bitter, let out occasional vitriol-filled spurts about chronologically incorrect architecture and theological references.
"Oh, well obviously," Angel played along. Honestly, he didn't have a clue. Fred didn't, either, but she did know one thing—a big splash of hot sauce had just been thrown on her Wes-as-taco mental metaphor. She shot him a come-hither... NOW... look. Wes caught it, grinned, and said nothing more about the architecture.
Behind them, Spike was also enjoying the intricacies of the ride set-up, but he was eager to get through to the actual ride bit-- so eager, in fact, that he didn't notice for a moment that Illyria had fallen behind. Backtracking, he found her standing beside a circular relic placed in the center of the largest room, its plated sides decorated in images of snake-gods and unfortunate mortals. One of her fingers rested on it. Above in the domed ceiling was a faded-color mural of celestial scenes. Spike was just about to launch a joke concerning her 'lost brethren' when she turned towards him.
Illyria looked like she could cry.
"Oh, Little Blue," Spike said softly, a thousand good, sarcastic comments dying on his lips. He went up and pulled her into a hug. "You're homesick, aren't you."
"No," she replied, stubborn and dark, but put her head on his shoulder just the same. "I cannot be afflicted with sickness in the manner of weak humans."
"No, I mean... you miss... never mind, 's alright." He smoothed her hair. "'S alright," he repeated.
He wished other people could see this side of their relationship, though he had to admit that he was as guilty of hiding their softer side as Illyria was. Underneath all the snark, punches, leather, pets, and harlots, there were two beings who truly cared for one another. They were perfectly matched, he and his goddess. He'd been so glad when Illyria had managed to get Fred back for Wesley, not only for their sake—of course— but because it gave him permission, in a way, to love her the way he wanted to.
Not that he needed permission. He was a Big Bad after all, a Scourge of Europe, a...
And... her posturing was wearing off on him.
"We don't have to go on this," he offered.
She eyed him closely. "You have spoken of nothing else since we made plans to come to this land of Disney."
"No problem. The others can go on this... kiddie ride... while we Big Bads go take on that flying elephant one." Spike let out a cocky smirk for emphasis.
"We will explore this temple now," Illyria countered, "and then later we will tame the elephants." This was all delivered with queenly superiority, but Spike knew the gesture for what it was. Illyria, high king of everything and whatever, was doing something completely unselfish—and for him. He just smiled.
"Tell you what. Later we'll get you some of those Mickey Mouse ears, yeah? Cheer you right up."
She nodded, ever the magnanimous goddess. "That is acceptable."
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Spike and Illyria caught up to the others in the loading area, just in time to be funneled into a boarding line. One of the oversized jeeps that served as ride vehicle pulled up beside them and they buckled themselves into the long seats. Illyria ended up with the "steering wheel," which was of course a non-functioning prop piece, though it appeared to turn satisfactorily in her hands. The goddess had been quite keen to learn to drive, but strangely, no one would teach her. It mattered very little to her really—though Angel's two-day tirade about a mysterious scratch on his car had grated on her nerves.
"Looks like you're drivin', Illy," Spike grinned, putting his arm around the back of her seat. The grin turned to a frown when an employee made him relocate the arm behind the safety bar.
Illyria was largely unconcerned by the logistics of his attempt. She was, however, taking her duties as driver very seriously. "I vow to guide us through this temple safely... ya'll."
"Okay, that was just disturbing," muttered Fred, crossing her arms. Wesley, staring at the statues littering the boarding area, was frustratingly oblivious. Gunn gave an emphatic nod of agreement as he strapped himself in.
Spike looked on, amused. Illyria thought that ride was real, and he had no intentions of correcting her. She'd figure it all out soon enough, so why not let her have her fun while it lasted? Illyria wasn't stupid or slow in any way. She could draw up battle plans so complex, involving millions of troops and spanning years, that would blow the mind. She'd amassed libraries full of her own kind of wisdom. It was just that she'd been dumped, a million years out of the primordium, into the modern world—it was natural that she wouldn't be exactly up to speed on technology. Another person might have been running around half-crazed from the change. For now, Illyria was able to experience the ride the way a child would— and there was something lovely about that.1
There was a bit of a 'moment' when the ride attendant made Illyria fasten her safety belt, but they were then off smoothly – or not so smoothly. The jeep simulated rough, uneven terrain—and badly in need of a tune-up at that. The voice of the 'professor' character crackled over the 'car radio' soundtrack, further setting up the plotline of the ride. They were supposed to be retrieving treasure from the temple, but would be doomed if they looked into the eyes of the god Mara statue.
Naturally, at that moment, they whipped around into the "Hall of Fate," had a fleeting glance at the treasure, and looked right at the statue. The professor's voice squawked as Mara's boomed over the loudspeaker.
"Who dares to look into the eyes of Mara!"
"I did, you fool!" thundered Illyria, vaulting forward to stand in defiance. Unfortunately, the action lost a lot of menace when she hit the safety bar. Recovering quickly, she raised a fist instead. "I am Illyria, god-king of the primordium, shaper of— " Her speech was cut off as the jeep flew into a dark tunnel curve, recorded sounds of squealing tires and brakes adding effectively.
The jeep burst upon a huge, cavernous underground room, complete with lava, skeletons, and spitting fire columns. The soundtrack soured over the loudspeaker and Angel gasped. This was hero-heaven! Caves, fire, giant beasts, rescuing-- it was all there! The souled vampire had a fleeting worry that he just might have a moment of perfect happiness.
Come to think about it, going to an amusement park called the "Happiest Place on Earth" might not have been the swiftest idea he'd ever had...
The car navigated across a rickety bridge slung over some bubbling lava pools, which conveniently 'broke' while they were on it. Illyria gave a triumphant smile over her shoulder to the car full of passengers, confident that her master driving skills had saved them in the nick of time. Flying around a narrow bend, they saw a Indiana Jones animatronic trying to hold back some terrible creature behind huge double-doors.
"Great, I ask for help and they send me tourists," it said.
"What is a tourist?" Illyria hissed in Spike's ear.
"It's uhhh.... a powerful mythic warrior," he covered, figuring it was best to play it safe.
"Ah. He must have anticipated our arrival."
Our. Spike smiled.
In the most impressive room yet they were greeted by a giant cobra, covering the entire length of one huge wall. Illyria's eyes lit up, and Spike held one of her arms to ward off what was looking like a family reunion.
"I could take that," Angel smirked, thumbing at the cobra. "Way smaller than the dragon I beat in the alley..... AHHH!" The cobra struck, the jaws snapping shut directly next to Angel's head. The other riders let out laughing surprised shrieks. Angel got a stomach full of lap bar when he almost jumped straight up in shock. Fred giggled, Spike smirked. Gunn flat-out laughed.
"The dragon-slayer's afraid of a little plastic snake?" he teased, laughing heartily.
Unfortunately, he was soon to get his. As the jeep slowed in an a pitch-dark room, a distinctive squeaking--almost a high-pitched chirp—filled the air. Gunn shifted uneasily his seat. "Uhh.... that better not be what I think it is," he gulped, trying to smother a whimper.
It was.
"Rats!!" the vampire-hunter cried, his voice jumping a good octave. The jeep's headlights illuminated the crawling vermin, and holographic projections above showed branches teaming with them. A few sound effects simulated the laden branches actually falling down into the seats.
"Get 'em off me!" Gunn yelled, brushing at his arms frantically.
"I will save you," Illyria assured him as the jeep sped off again, taking dark tunnels at dangerous speeds. They idled in another, where skeleton warriors shot darts and arrows at them. Tiny blasts of air and 'thwacking' sound effects did the trick entirely too well.
"This wheel does not obey my commands!" said Illyria, frustrated, just before it came off in her hands altogether. The jeep stopped, faced with a gigantic rolling ball coming right at them. Several riders screamed, ooohed, an ahhhed. At the very last second, the vehicle dove beneath the rock at a steep decline while the Indiana Jones theme song blared heroically. The ride was over, and Illyria fairly strutted down the exit ramp.
"I have saved all of your lives and those of the humans whimpering and screaming behind us. You are in my debt." She paused, turning dramatically to face them. "I demand in recompense... a churro."
Everyone just stared. Did Illyria really value them on the same level as a pastry—or was this just her idea of some strange joke?
Angel, for his part, was incredulous. "Are you kidding! Those churros are completely overpriced!" Everyone stared harder, only at him this time. "What?"
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They went on Indy three more times (Gunn covering his eyes and ears for the rats, of course.) Four times might have brought on Angelus. It was on the second go-round that Illyria figured out that the ride was just that—a ride—but Spike quickly managed to convince her that she was actually still driving. (Whether his motivations had to do with preventing a violent tirade—or at least a good sulk—or the less noble fact that he liked her strutting was a matter of some debate.) Thankfully, the ride had so many variations worked in—differences in everything from visual affects to when the car idled—that his little fib was easy enough to pass off.
After finally taking their leave of Indy, there was a bit of a discussion on what to ride next. Angel, self-appointed tour guide, was torn between moving in a circular pattern and jumping around the park to hit the busiest rides first. Finally, they decided to hit the Jungle Cruise, seeing as it was directly in front of them. The ride, one of the longest in the park, was a boat trip down the major jungle rivers of the world. Lush imported greenery rose above their heads, and the animatronic plastic animals were very realistic. The trademark of the ride, though, was the corny jokes and commentary offered by the guide. That was a big hit with Fred and Gunn, who laughed hysterically at each and every one.
Though, it had to be admitted, the jokes really lost something with Illyria's punctuations of "I do not 'get it'" every ten seconds or so. There was also a bit of a rough spot when, at the beginning of the ride, the guide asked where everyone on the large-ish boat was from. Thankfully, Spike managed to cover by explaining that 'Primordium' was a small town in Iowa.
After that, there was little left in the land to see, considering that Gunn flat-out refused to be seen in anything called a "Tiki Room." The Tarzan Treehouse was briefly explored by the three supernatural members of the group—namely because they leaped up into it from the back and didn't have to take the endless stairs—and afterwards everyone regrouped to look at the pictures Fred had been snapping along the way with her digital camera. Angel wanted to be sure that the snaps of his beloved Indy Adventure had come out before they pressed forward to the next section of the park. Illyria, bored, wandered off in the direction of the Bengal Barbeque.
"Just go to the beginning," Angel asked Fred, who was flipping through the photos on the camera screen. Everyone leaned over her shoulder to see. In very short order it became apparent that something was a bit... off... about Fred's photographic endeavors.
"These from today?" Gunn asked, confused. "Shouldn't we be seein' some animals or something?"
"I'm sure they're in here somewhere," Fred replied.
"Oh, there's one of Wes," Angel pointed out.
"Wait a minute, why is he wearing a cowboy hat? We haven't been to Frontierland yet."
"Is that a holster?" asked Angel, brow furrowing slightly. Wes didn't reply.
"Looks like," commented Spike.
Fred began hitting the skip buttons a little more rapidly.
"Hey, wait—hold up, Fred. I think you found them." Gunn gestured at the screen. Angel leaned in. Fred squirmed.
"Did you take this one by the Tarzan Treehouse, Fred? There's this character guy in a loinclo—no, wait that's.... Wes?"
"Oh, look, a squirrel," Wes sing-songed, suddenly interested in a nearby tree.
Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Fred cleared her throat--- loudly—and stuffed the camera in her fanny pack.
"Let's move on, shall we?"
1 Comment by the author— Once on Indiana Jones, I convinced the little kids in the car that I was actually driving. Much fun and yelled instructions to 'turn, turn!' ensued. Highly recommended.
