Chapter Thirteen

Monday, November 11, 2002 – attic of the Natural History Museum, Los Angeles; a few hours after midnight:

"Holy crap," Officer Hodges said in amazement, turning his flashlight here and there – and examining the loft which somebody had turned into a pseudo-apartment of sorts.

"I know," his partner said in reply, likewise examining the area using his own flashlight. They could both see the bed, the television, even the leftover junk food. Then Castillo spotted something somewhat unusual and said, "Look at this... "

"Guessing Amnesia Girl is in a lot more trouble than she knows," Hodges said, putting on a pair of latex gloves and picking up Ms. Chase's high school yearbook, before opening it and seeing her name written at the top of the first page. "Yup, it's definitely hers."

"Damn," Castillo cursed softly, as he looked the book over. Once the Hispanic was done, Hodges placed the yearbook back where he'd found it. "What a freaking mess."

"You're telling me," Hodges grimaced. "I mean, it sure as heck looks like Miss Chase is guilty of breaking and entering, plus illegal squatting on private property. Not to mention living here with that kid who ran off and resisted arrest. And we actually gave her a lift to the nearest train station? Jee-zus, do you have any idea how that's going to look like on the report?"

"Sure do. Gonna leave a helluva black mark on both our records, I'm thinking," the older policeman shrugged. "Don't know why you didn't talk me out of it... "

"Hey – I'm not the one who wanted to follow all this up, after our shift was officially over," Hodges retorted. He looked around before adding, "I was content to let it all go, pal. You were the one who insisted on us coming here, and look for more answers on tonight's little mystery girl. Well, we sure done found some, didn't we?"

"Yeah," Castillo scratched the back of his neck, before lowering his flashlight. "Even if they aren't the answers I was hoping for."

"Right." Hodges sighed, before reaching up for his shoulder mike. "Well, hell. May as well call it in and get this over with... "

"Hold on a second," Castillo abruptly swung his flashlight up. "Maybe there's a way we can avoid catching all the flak for this one."

"What do you mean?"

Castillo already had his cell phone out. He punched in some numbers and then said, "Hey, Lew? Do you still have Detective Kate Lockley's number? Yeah, I know she quit the force ages ago, whatever – do you have it or not? OK, good, thanks!"

Hodges wasn't sure exactly what was going on, or what the heck Castillo was planning, but what the hell – partners were supposed to trust one another, and if the guy he trusted with his life actually had an idea to get them out of this mess? Better that, than the alternative...

He wanted to make captain in the department one day, after all.


A few hours later – garden at the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; night:

"Damn it," Gunn said to himself, kicking a patch of grass in annoyance. He looked up at the somewhat dilapidated old building, scowling. { This is supposed to be home, nowadays? This is where I actually belong? Plus, I work with a bunch of white folks, even a goddamn vampire? One that's supposed to be a good guy, or at least not actively killin' people? Man, that is so totally screwed up! How the hell did my life get this screwed up? }

Finally deciding 'to hell with it', Charles went up to the front doors of the hotel and tried to open them – but to his surprise, they were locked. Shrugging, he made his way to the doors leading to the garden court, and quickly entered the hotel the same way he'd left it with that British asshole, few hours back.

{ All right. Now what? } he asked himself. Quickly deciding to explore the place, Gunn hefted his ax and set off on a journey of discovery. He quickly learned that the hotel was huge; there were hundreds of rooms present, along with a basement the size of a freaking football field. Charles eventually got tired of aimlessly traipsing around the building, though – there was nothing much to see, all the rooms he'd checked out were empty and uninteresting. So he decided to go back to the lobby –

"Damn," Gunn cursed again, looking around and deciding to put the ax back into the cabinet where he'd originally found it. If everything Rondell had told him was true, the weapon probably belonged there anyway. As soon as that was done, though, he heard the rattling of keys and the sound of a lock turning at the front doors.

Just before that Fred girl, some guy he'd never met before, and a freakin' demon walked into the damn lobby!


A few moments earlier – outside the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; night:

Connor was willing to admit – privately, at least – that he had mixed feelings about this place, as he accompanied the demon and Fred up the path to the front doors of the detective agency.

He knew that Angel's hotel was the place where he had been conceived, the place where he should have grown up – had Holtz not abducted him as a baby. He could remember living here with Gunn and Fred all last summer, feeling... well, if not content, then at least well along the road to getting there, after properly punishing the vampire who'd murdered the man he'd called 'Father' all his life.

But then his whole world had come crashing down all around him, after that Wesley person had raised Angel out of the ocean. After learning that his adopted father had committed suicide and framed the vampire for it, and then getting kicked out of here after Fred had nearly tasered him to death...

All that had definitely poisoned his memories of this particular residence. That was why Connor suspected that it would be best for him and Cordelia to avoid the hotel and its occupants completely, after she was found and restored to her proper self.

There was nothing for him here, not really. Not anymore. No matter what Angel might prefer to think.

"So, tell us more about this Quaker Oats place you ended up in," Fred suddenly asked him, and Connor briefly glanced at her in surprise. He still wasn't used to her acting so... friendly. Not to mention a lot less smart than he knew she was.

He remained silent for a few seconds, thinking it over. "Quor-toth is Hell," he eventually said, which appeared to give Fred a case of goose bumps and the demon one of outright chills. "Everything there is... the total opposite of here. No sun. No stars. No clouds. There's just the red sky, and black earth, and that thick foul stench in the air. And there are demons there... "

"Demons?" the unclean thing asked, looking queasy. "You mean, like me?"

"No. They're not like... for one thing, they're a lot bigger. And a lot deadlier. You probably wouldn't last five minutes in Quor-toth before something ate you. And my life there, it was just – running. Hiding. Killing. Feeding. Looking after my – Holtz."

"Yeah, you mentioned that guy before," Fred nodded. "Sorry for your loss, by the way – "

"No you're not," Connor cut her off with a brief glare. "Or, rather, you are now – but that'll change, once you people get your memories back. Believe me, I know."

Without waiting for a response, Connor grabbed the keys to his father's home out of her hands and unlocked the front doors. He ignored the hurt look on Fred's face, and the reprimanding one on the demon's; the Miracle Child knew he wouldn't be seeing them if these two were in their right minds. He led the way into Angel Investigations, both the human and the demon hesitantly following him inside –

Only to find Gunn close by the weapons cabinet, the look on his face somehow both astonished and murderous at the same time.

"DEMON!" Connor heard the black man yell, and then he saw Fred's boyfriend come charging towards them – no, towards the green-skinned demon – and, instantly understanding the situation, Connor acted to prevent Gunn from killing his temporary ally of convenience.

It mattered little to the Destroyer of Quor-toth that the demon in the fancy suit got knocked unconscious, before he could subdue Gunn by punching him out cold. The only thing Connor really cared about right now was Cordelia, after all.

"Oh my goodness, what did you just do?" Fred cried, rushing over to examine the man who – according to Connor, anyway – was her boyfriend.

Connor shrugged. "He'll live. They both will."


Many hours later – not far from the Magic Box, Maple Court, Sunnydale; early afternoon:

Willow Rosenberg definitely had a headache from the aftermath of Hurricane Cordelia, earlier at the Sunnydale Mall's food court.

Oh, sure, theoretically she'd known that Angel's Vision Girl had lost her memory, and had reverted to the personality she'd had back in high school. Junior year, around the time of that whole red Speedo's incident. But Willow had to admit to herself, she hadn't been prepared – nowhere near ready – for the reality of a Cordelia Chase who couldn't help thinking she was still seventeen, and who had just found out her boyfriend had cheated on her with his best friend, way back when.

{ I swear, during lunch – I think she was actually trying to make my head explode, just with the power of her thoughts, } Willow thought uncomfortably, driving Buffy's Jeep Cherokee as she glanced at Xander's burgundy Taurus with the side-view mirror. { Which, nowadays, Hellmouth 'n all – might be something I should actually be worried about? }

OK, she knew that Cordelia had a right to be upset about all that, even if it was all totally in the past as far as everyone else was concerned. So Willow figured the best thing to do was just humor the Amnesia Girl for as long as possible, and restore her memory as soon as she could. Hopefully, Cordelia would then cease being such a b-i-t-c-h, and return to being the long-distance friend she had turned into over the past three years.

Pulling over after finding a convenient parking spot, Willow got out of the Jeep and waited for Xander and Cordelia to join her. They soon did so, after walking a short distance from farther down the street. Willow looked on as Cordelia came to a stop, and examined the exterior of the Magic Box.

"So, this is the place?" Cordy asked, giving it another quick once-over.

"Grown-up version of the old Sunnydale High library, yup," Xander nodded, before looking at his watch. "And now, I must bid you lovely ladies adieu."

"What? Where are you going?" Cordelia demanded, looking less than pleased with this news.

"Shopping. And before you say anything, Cor, it's not that kind of shopping," Xander said quickly, after seeing his ex-girlfriend open her mouth. "I'm gonna go buy some bedding and stuff, everything I need to make the spare room suitable for you to live in. And unlike you, when I go shopping? I already know what I want, so I get it and then I leave straightaway. So, better for me and better for you to stay here with Will while I go do what I gotta do, OK?"

He gave her a cheerful smile, before waving goodbye. "Later."

"Uggh! Infuriating, exasperating... man!" Cordelia growled, watching him depart.

"Well, Xander's not that bad, compared to some," Willow responded automatically. She then cringed, almost, at the venomous look Cordelia sent her way. "Uh, Cordy – "

"Don't you 'uh, Cordy' me, you backstabbing little traitor," Cordelia cut her off mercilessly. "Now, answer me this. Did we ever have a chat about the ethics of cheating on your boyfriend, and attempting to poach mine?"

"Uh, sorta. Well, you told me you did, anyway," Willow babbled, slowly backing away.

"The heck is that supposed to mean?"

"Uh, it was back in senior year, when the vampire me showed up from that Wish world Anya created," Willow said rapidly, noticing how Cordelia was following her – before her back abruptly smacked into the exterior wall of the building. "You, uh, you said later that you got all that stuff off of your chest, while she was locked up in the book cage?"

Cordelia looked confused for a moment, but then brushed it aside. "I've got no idea what you're talking about, but that doesn't matter right now. Damn it, Willow, I just want to know – why? I mean, I've already heard the Dweeb's version, why he thinks all of that crap happened. But now, I wanna hear it from you. Tell me why you two betrayed my trust, damn you!"

"I can't," Willow shook her head, her cheeks burning with shame. "I mean, I, I just can't. I want to, but I – "

"Don't give me that bullshit!" Cordelia interrupted sternly. "Wait, lemme guess. Deep down you were gay all along, but Xander was still your... man crush?"

"What? No!" Willow said in immediate denial, shaking her head vigorously. "I mean, back then – I wasn't even remotely interested in girls! It wasn't until freshman year at UC Sunnydale when I met Tara that I... " She trailed off, choking back a sudden sob.

"Tara? Oh, yeah, I heard about her. Xander mentioned her last night. She was your girlfriend, right?" Cordelia asked, more gently than before.

"She was a lot more than that," Willow replied, fighting off the nightmarish memories of Tara's murder in their bedroom. "She was the love of my life, my soul mate, my – she was my, my everything. She was to me what you think Xander is to you, here and now."

From the look on her face, it seemed that Cordelia was uncomfortable after hearing that, but the brunette quickly got back on topic. "So then, why? Why that whole... what did Idiot Boy call it... clothes fluke, back then? And I got the impression last night that the Dork totally blames himself for it, but Willow, I'm sure you know how it takes two to cheat that way. And I already know that Xander didn't force you into doing anything against your will; anyone else, I'd have to wonder, but not you. Not with the history you two share. So – let's hear it, you little tramp! Why did you betray Oz like that, never mind me?"

"I don't know," Willow said miserably, not wanting to think about something she had done her best to try to forget for the better part of half a decade. "I just – I don't know, Cordy. I tried to figure it out, especially after you got impaled by that rebar, but – I just don't get it. I can't explain it, not even to myself. It, it was almost like I was under a love spell or something, I swear by the Goddess – I loved Oz more than anything back then, but every time Xander came within five yards of me, all I could think about was him! His eyes, his nose, his lips – "

"Don't. Go. There," Cordelia hissed angrily, cutting her off at once. "I'm the only one allowed to think about Xander's lips that way!"

"Uh, no, sorry – but you're not," Willow disagreed, shaking her head firmly. "I mean, not anymore. Because you and Xander broke up a long time ago, and Anya took your place afterwards. She's the one who's been part of his life for the past three years, after you left us all behind in your dust."

Cordelia looked ready to tear her a new one for that, but at the last moment, she visibly changed her mind. Grabbing her by the wrist, the former rich girl dragged her inside the magic shop.

"Welcome to the Magic Box, how can I help you – " Willow heard Anya say, before the polite and friendly tone vanished. "Oh, Willow, it's you. I should have known you'd be by today to disrupt my attempts to earn a living yet again. And who's your – "

"Anya, this is Cordelia. Cordelia Chase," Willow interrupted, as she wrenched her arm away from the former cheerleader's grasp. "You remember her, right?"

"Cordelia-? Oh, yes, I remember you now. You're that bitchy ex-client of mine, who was partly responsible for my amulet getting destroyed after Xander cheated on you," Anya said, her expression becoming cold and sullen in an instant.

Willow was stunned when her former classmate immediately punched Anya in the face, making the shopkeeper stumble back and hold her nose in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. "Cordy-!"

"She called me the b-word," the Chase woman said, as if that was all the explanation necessary. "And if you thought I was simply gonna take something like that from someone like her, Willow? Then you're deluded-plus! Even more than I thought you were."

Willow rolled her eyes, and went over to Anya. Muttering a healing spell, she fixed Anya's nose and then got out a handkerchief to help wipe away all the blood.

"Thanks," Anya told her absently, before turning to face Cordelia. With an icy rage in her voice, the former demon said, "You. Get out of my store. Before I call the cops, and have you arrested!"

"Really. On what charge?" Cordelia demanded.

"Assault and battery, for starters! Not to mention trespassing – "

"Trespassing?" Cordelia interrupted, gesturing scornfully. "This is a public store, lady. And as for the assault thing? Where's the evidence? Willow just magically fixed all the damage, remember? So go ahead, call the cops. In fact, ask for Detective Stein; he's a friend of my parents, or at least he used to be. It'll be good to catch up with him – oh, and discuss how the manager of this place has been living in Sunnydale under a fake I.D., since roughly four years ago. That'll certainly make for interesting conversation, won't it?"

"Cordelia!" Willow exclaimed, unable to believe how quickly the situation had degenerated into nightmarish trouble.

"What? Oh, don't worry, Willow, I won't mention to Daddy's old friend the illegal hacking you must have done in setting up the former demon with her fake identity. I still need you to help me get my memory back, remember?" Cordelia smiled at her with a venom-laced saccharine look on her face, which made Willow want to throw up.

"Help you get your memory back? You have amnesia of some sort?" Anya demanded.

"Yeah, sort of. Say, why don't we continue this discussion in private? Willow, you start setting up doing whatever mojo it is you have to do," Cordelia said, but without looking at her. The brunette maintained eye contact with Anya and added, "There somewhere around here where we can chat in private?"

"Buffy's training area, back of the store," Anya said grudgingly.

Before Willow could say anything, Cordelia grabbed Anya by the wrist and started dragging the shopkeeper away.

"Please don't kill each other. I wouldn't know how to explain that one to Xander," she muttered under her breath, before wearily turning the CLOSED sign around on the front door of the shop and starting to search for the materials she needed for her spell.


A few moments later – the training area of Magic Box, Sunnydale; afternoon:

Cordelia was not in the mood to pull any punches, as she and Anya entered the shop's back room. "We need to get a few things straight right now, Demon Girl."

"Don't call me that! And what are you talking about?" Anya demanded, yanking her arm loose.

"I'll call you whatever I damn well please. And knock it off with the attitude, or I'll hit you in the face a lot harder the next time," Cordelia said threateningly, subconsciously trying to assert her dominance as the alpha female around here. "Newsflash, but I have no friendly feelings towards you whatsoever. So get in my way, and I will stomp on you like a bug! Comprendez?" she demanded.

"Perfectly," Anya snarled. "Now what do you want? And you can't have Xander back, even if I do hate his guts for leaving me at the altar!"

"OK, then we have a problem. Because I intend to get him back, one way or another," Cordelia said way too calmly.

"No you can't!"

"Yes I can."

"No you can't!"

"Yes I – oh, this is getting ridiculous," Cordelia said in sudden exasperation. "Just accept the situation for what it is, Demon Girl. Because Xander was mine long before he was ever yours, and I'm gonna make him mine again – no matter how annoyed I am with him, right now!"

"Why? I mean, after all this time, what brought this on?" Anya demanded, calming down a little.

"We already sorta covered this, but I don't remember anything from May '98 onwards," Cordelia replied, crossing her arms and huffing to blow straggles of hair away from her eyes. "Far as I'm concerned, I'm still seventeen years old – and the Dork is still my boyfriend, however much he's changed since then."

"Oh!" Anya said in astonishment, the anger abruptly evaporating. "So, in other words, you're effectively non compos mentis and have no idea who you are nowadays. Well, that's OK then. From what Willow's said, as soon as you recover your wits, you'll get out of Sunnydale so fast you'll leave a contrail behind you. So I can afford to wait, and simply treat you like the unwelcome interloper you are until then."

Cordelia didn't like blunt and tactless when it was employed against her any more than the next girl. "And what if I decide to stay, once I remember everything?"

"Oh, pffftttt!" Anya airily dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "Impossible. I mean, I've heard how you have a life and a calling in Los Angeles, helping that sexually desirable vampire named Angel as his Seer. In fact, I'm somewhat surprised he's not already here to drag you back to L.A. with him... "

"From what I've been able to figure out, he almost certainly has the same sort of amnesia that I do, he thinks he's seventeen again – just like the others. Those Wesley, Fred and Gunn people," Cordelia said sourly, recalling the events of the previous night and using her not-inconsiderable intelligence to arrive at that conclusion.

"Oh? Hrmm. That means – ooh, ignorant eighteenth century male trapped in early twenty-first century America? Oh, my, now that's amusing! Just imagine what he must be going through," Anya smirked, before smiling broadly.

"No thanks, I prefer not to. 'Cause far as I'm concerned, he was Angelus just yesterday! And if I hadn't heard it from Xander himself, no way I would've accepted the fact that I ended up working for that vampire as his secretary. Let alone become his Seer, or whatever," Cordelia shuddered in distaste.

"I have to admit, I'm actually curious about that one. I mean, just about every human seer comes into their power around the age of... what? Twenty-one, twenty-two? And yet, how old were you when that happened? Eighteen, nineteen at the most? That's way too young. I mean, eleven hundred years of experience talking, here," Anya frowned, looking at her oddly as the former demon visibly pondered this somewhat interesting happenstance.

Cordelia hesitated, but then decided to put that aside for now. To her mind, there were more pressing issues to discuss right at the moment. "Whatever, I mean – getting back on topic. Maybe I'll change my mind later, maybe I won't – but for now, I want my boyfriend back. So I gotta ask – do you want Xander back as well? Because if you do, I'm willing to fight you for him; may the best woman win type scenario."

"Are you trying to make me jealous? Because if so, it's working. Observe my shaking hands, and the shrill note of semi-hysteria in my voice," Anya replied, blinking in alarm. "Oh, by all the pestilent gods, I don't know what I want right now! All I know is I can't forgive him for what he did to me – but at the same time, I don't want to see Xander with anyone else. Least of all you," she added with annoying honesty.

"Grrrf! Arrgh. Look, I don't know what your deal is, Dem – Anya. But like you say, you've been around for over a thousand years. So you musta seen this sort of scenario before, right? The whole scorned woman deal? Guy leaves girl at the altar? So tell me, how does it usually end?"

Anya closed her eyes for a moment. "She ends up wishing for his penis to explode, or whatever, and then moves on to someone else."

Cordelia suppressed a shudder. "So, even if it doesn't work out between me and the Doofus, do you really think there's any chance for you and him to get back to where you were, before he abandoned you on your wedding day? Honestly. Is there any real hope of reconciliation? Do you seriously believe that there's a happily-ever-after in store for you and Xander, as things stand now?"

"I don't know," Anya shook her head, having a brief flashback to the night D'Hoffryn had killed Hallie and the conversation she and Harris had had outside that frat house. "Although, if I had to guess – well, I suppose the answer to your question would probably be... no."

"Well, there you go," Cordelia said, hiding all the relief and satisfaction she suddenly felt. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go see Willow. Fix this damn mess, somehow."

She walked out of the training room, a somewhat sad and despondent Anya trailing after her. Cordelia then said to the redhead, "OK, you ready to get this show on the road?"

"Um, yeah. Sorta," Willow nodded. "I was thinking maybe I could, y'know, look at your aura, and see what I can see. For starters, anyway."

"Really?" Cordy asked, looking confused. "I mean, from the way Xander was talking – I thought you could pretty much just snap your fingers, and problem solved?"

"Cordelia. How can I fix something that way, when I don't know what's wrong with it?" Willow asked, visibly trying to be patient.

"All right, then, fine. Go ahead. Oh – this isn't gonna hurt, is it?" Cordy wanted to know, frowning and sitting at the main research table at Willow's gesture.

The witch shook her head. "No, 'course not. OK, hold on a minute. I just need to focus... "

Cordelia shrugged minutely, trying to relax as Willow's green eyes went slightly glassy, and she stared at her former classmate for a while. Then Willow snapped out of it, and she frowned slightly. The redhead said, "Hrmm."

"Hrmm?" Anya gave her a curious, and somewhat questioning look.

"Interesting. And odd," Willow said, nodding.

"Meaning?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow and sent her an inquiring look.

"OK, from what I saw," Willow said slowly, "you don't seem to have a damaged aura. Not that I could tell, anyway. But there was a lot of darkness there as well, which didn't feel right." The witch frowned again and said slowly, "It's almost like there's something lurking underneath the surface of your aura... "

"Meaning?" Cordelia was starting to feel a bit alarmed, now.

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like this before. I'm going to have to look again, deeper," Willow replied. The witch's eyes became glassy again, as she looked at Cordelia. After a moment, though, Willow's eyes widened slightly – and then turned utterly black.

Immediately, there was a sharp CRACK! sound and a bright flash of white light – and both women were hurled backward from the table, across almost the entire length of the Magic Box.

TBC…


A/N: Sorry about the slight delay in getting the latest chapter out, folks, grading student essays simply sucks sometimes. Still, having said that, a woo-hoo! is definitely in order; because reviews for this fic have finally hit the triple digits mark! The number of hits for this fanfic isn't too bad, either. So, yet again, we'd like to thank you for reading and reviewing 'Memory', and ask you to please keep it coming! There's still lots of story yet to come...