Chapter Fifteen
Monday, November 11, 2002 – outside the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; not long after sunset:
Kate Lockley was starting to feel like she was trapped in some sort of bad dream, as she, Fred, Gunn, Connor and Krevlorneswath headed for the hotel – after spending the day unsuccessfully searching for Angel and Cordelia. { Good thing I hired an assistant to work at my store recently – or else I'd be in big trouble, financially speaking! }
She glanced around at the others, and marveled yet again how anyone could mistake Krevlorneswath for human – even with the sunglasses and hat which the green-skinned demon was currently wearing as a disguise. Oh well, that was L.A. for you; there was a lot of weird crap in this city, and the former cop suspected a lot of people simply rationalized what they could, and ignored -slash- forgot what they couldn't. They more or less had to, in order to maintain their sanity. Kate figured she used to do the exact same thing, before her mind was awakened to reality...
"So, now what?" Gunn said with a definite grumble in his tone. Kate couldn't blame him too much for it; she felt like grumbling herself, what with the huge, honking lack of success in their quest so far.
"I dunno," Fred replied, shrugging. "I am kinda hungry, though. And I could do with some weed... "
"Could you please not say that while I'm around? I'm not a cop anymore, but old habits do die hard," Kate told her sternly.
Fred shrugged, looking abashed. "OK."
"I'm worried about Cordelia," Connor said, glancing at Kate. "And before you say anything, yes, I know that Angel's the priority. But I still worry about her."
"Wasn't gonna read you the riot act for it," Kate said lightly, as everyone reached the front doors of the Hyperion. "Just need you to keep focused, that's all."
"Just so you all know, I still find it very hard to believe how all this isn't some kind of nightmare. One which I can't wake up from," the demon complained, the last one to enter the hotel lobby.
"I know the feeling," Kate shrugged again. Her cell phone chirped and she moved off to the side to answer it. "Hello? Charlie. What's up? No, I'm still busy with that personal emergency I told you about; I need you to cover for me as best you can, until further notice. Yeah, don't leave today's money in the till; empty the cash register, and put all of today's receipts away safely... "
"This is friggin' insane," Gunn shook his head, and looked over towards Fred. Then he stiffened, as he heard someone coming down the stairs not far away. He whirled around and lifting his ax, said, "Who the hell-?"
"OH! It's you, that Wesley guy!" Fred exclaimed, as the Englishman came within hailing distance. "What are you doing back here?"
"I'm not entirely sure, Miss Burkle," Wes said stiffly, as he entered the lobby proper. "I suppose it's because this seemed like the most logical place to start looking for the answers to my questions, because I still can't remember anything beyond my seventeenth birthday. Anyway, I take it you all just got here?"
"Yeah," Gunn scowled at him, not exactly happy that the arrogant foreigner had shown up again.
"Hello, Wesley," Connor said, taking in the British man's appearance.
"Do I know you?" Wyndam-Pryce replied, examining Connor carefully.
"Yeah. You just don't remember it," the kid shrugged slightly. "Name's Connor."
Wesley nodded and focused on Krevlorneswath. His eyebrows rose and he said, "You're a demon. Possibly of the Karathmama-nyung family? They have horns like yourself, and feed on roots, and occasionally human effluent... "
"What? No!" the demon immediately looked disgusted. "The name is Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok clan, cow. And I – we don't eat that!"
"Ah. My mistake, then," Wesley inclined his head slightly. "And, cow?"
"That's what he thinks human beings are," Fred rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Hello, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. Still winning friends and influencing people, I see," Kate said, finally rejoining the conversation after hanging up on her employee.
"You appear to have me at a disadvantage, madam," Wesley turned his attention to her. "Who are you?"
"The name's Kate Lockley, formerly of the LAPD," Kate told him. "And before you ask, we've known each other for roughly three years."
"I see. Still, the more important question is, what are you all doing here in the company of such a creature?" Wesley demanded, gesturing at Krevlorneswath. "If I'm right, this thing's more or less harmless; but still, it's odd for any human to be in the company of a demon. Not to mention be unafraid of it," he added dispassionately, assessing the scene before him.
"Can't argue with that," Gunn muttered to himself, looking annoyed.
Kate sighed and briefly filled Wesley in on what was going on, and how they'd all banded together to find the missing members of the group; namely, Angel and Cordelia. After expressing his surprise on the whole 'vampire with a soul' thing, Wyndam-Pryce shrugged and asked if anyone had checked out the local demon bars for the missing vampire in question.
"I have. No one's seen Angel recently," Connor said succinctly, not looking particularly upset about that.
"What about the hospitals and morgues, for Miss Chase?"
"Ditto. There's no telling where she might have disappeared off to, I'm afraid," Kate sighed, not knowing that Officer Castillo and Officer Hodges had given Cordelia a lift to the local train station in order for her to journey off to Sunnydale – since they hadn't volunteered that information to her. Plus, the former detective knew there were at least ten thousand square kilometers of the city's metropolitan area to cover, so –
"Well, I dunno 'bout the rest of you, but I'm gonna get something to eat," Fred said, looking around for some food.
"Yeah, guess I'm kinda hungry myself. Wanna check out the kitchen?" Gunn asked his ostensible girlfriend.
"Sure. If I knew where it was," Fred abruptly frowned.
Connor exhaled in annoyance. "Come on, I'll show you."
"Cool!" Fred exclaimed happily.
As the trio departed, Kate noticed that Krevlorneswath had made himself at home on the couch, and Wesley appeared to have become fascinated by some books which were on... huh, what must have been the main check-in counter of the hotel, at some point.
{ Damn it, I hope this mess gets fixed soon. Last thing I want is to have to act like some sort of den mother around here... }
A few hours earlier – not far from the Magic Box, Maple Court, Sunnydale; late afternoon:
Xander walked Cordelia to his car, unlocked it, and bade her enter. He was about to suggest they go home, when she mentioned that they still hadn't finished shopping for all her essentials. So, somewhat reluctantly, he took her back to the Sunnydale Mall – on the understanding that they'd quickly get whatever she needed, and then depart.
Even as he said that, though, Xander figured that any effort to make his former girlfriend hurry up where the shopping was concerned was doomed to failure, before it even began. He hadn't forgotten what Cordelia was like as a teenager, whenever she got into shopping mode; she could make a fifteen minute 'pick up and go' stretch out into three freaking hours, or even longer, and drive any guy's blood pressure through the roof.
Of course, back in the old days – his girlfriend had always had her own special way of making it up to him, afterwards...
A few hours later Xander groaned as he got out of the car, after they finally arrived back at his apartment building – following a very long afternoon's shopping extravaganza. As he and Cordelia headed for his apartment, his arms were full of her shopping bags; containing various tops, skirts, pants, shoes, and a variety of unmentionables. Plus expensive, name-brand tampons and pads...
"I honestly can't believe all the damage you've managed to inflict on my wallet today," he complained, as they came to a stop in front of the apartment door.
"Oh, please, I didn't buy that much! Besides – it's like karma finally catching up with you. I mean, when we were dating? You should have been the one showering me with expensive gifts, instead of the other way around," she replied, with a dose of pure Cordelia logic.
"Newsflash, Cor, but those so-called 'gifts' of yours? Expensive clothes which I neither asked for, nor wanted? Not exactly helping your case, here," Xander grumbled, reaching into his pants pocket for his house keys but failing to grab them due to all the bags he was holding.
"Oh, jeez, are we back to that old lamer argument?" Cordelia instantly looked annoyed, and unexpectedly yanked Xander's hand away before digging into his pocket to grab his keys. "I mean, seriously, I thought you'd finally gotten over that... "
"HEY!" Xander almost jumped into the air, at the unexpected intrusion into his personal space. "What are you doing?!"
Cordelia held up the keys triumphantly. "Making sure we don't stay stuck out here in the corridor all night." She quickly unlocked the door and opened it wide. "Men. I mean, if you thought I was gonna wait an hour or so for you to finally get your ass in gear... "
Xander abruptly dropped all her bags onto the floor, the moment he stepped inside his apartment.
"HEY! What are you doing?!" Cordelia instinctively snapped at him.
"We need to establish a few rules between us, Cordelia. And the first one is, I'm not your personal slave – so you don't get to treat me like one," he told her firmly, gesturing to all the bags on the floor. "Number two, no more naughty touching like that. All right? I need you to respect my boundaries – not just for my sake, but yours as well."
"What do you mean?" Cordelia asked, looking somewhat shocked by the unexpected, authoritative attitude he was now exhibiting.
"Cordy, how many times do I have to say it? We're not together anymore. And while I wouldn't necessarily object to that situation changing at some point in the future – it's not gonna happen now. Not like this; not while you don't remember who you really are. I'm sorry, Cor, but that's just the way it is." He reached down into one of the bags, and pulled out the fresh bedding for Spike's old room. "You want some coffee, before I strip the spare bed and turn over the mattress?"
"Coffee? COFFEE? I don't believe you, you, you – complete and utter moron!" Cordelia suddenly screamed at him, as he took a step back in surprise. "I mean, yeah, we're not together any longer – but ever since I came back to this one-Starbucks town, whose fault is that? And sure, technically I'm not seventeen anymore, but is it my fault how I can't remember that? And is it my bad that I can't help acting the way I do? For God's sake, I don't know who this twenty-two year old Cordelia Chase you're constantly talking about is supposed to be! I don't know how to live poor, like she does! I don't know how to cope with my father rotting in jail, and with Mother dumping me like garbage, like she did! I don't know how to – "
"OK, I get it!" Xander cut her off, trying to be patient but not succeeding very well. "It's not easy for you, I know that. But it's not exactly easy for me either, all right? You being here like this, I mean – knowing that it's just temporary, and that you're gonna leave and go back to L.A. in a few days at the most – "
"And what if I don't?" Cordelia interrupted him.
"Huh?"
"What are you, deficient? You heard me, Harris! What if I don't go back there? What if I decided to stay in Sunnydale? Build a life together with you," she said, slowly and clearly. "Would that be so terrible?"
Xander looked at her sadly. "Look, Cordy, while that sounds real nice in theory – I honestly don't think it'd work in practice. Especially since I called Mary earlier this afternoon, and asked her to speak to my bosses about me transferring to L.A."
Cordelia was briefly dumbstruck. "Huh?"
Xander briefly explained about the phone calls earlier that day, and the decision he'd made on the spur of the moment. "Gonna have to wait and see what the owners of the company will say, of course, but hopefully they'll be on board with it. I've got a pretty good work record, after all."
"Xander, I... " Cordy trailed off uncertainly, before managing to speak up again. "Look, I-I didn't want to get you in trouble with your boss at work – "
"Nah. You didn't," he reassured her hastily. "This has been building for a while, to be honest with you; and earlier today I figured, better to get out on my terms rather than his."
"Get out of Sunnydale?" Cordy echoed softly. "You? Xander Harris – the guy who was always more obsessed with protecting Buffy and Willow, rather than go out on a date with me? You're actually going to abandon them, just like that?"
Instantly, Xander was reminded of yesterday's prison visit with Faith. So he told Cordelia, "Like I said last night, sweetheart – lot of changes around here since high school. And myself, I don't think of it as abandonment; at least not where Will and the Buffster are concerned. Fact is we've been drifting apart over the years, living our own lives too much for that particular label to apply anymore. Dawnie's case, though... well, maybe the word applies there, I dunno."
"Maybe. Not that I remember her, but from what you and Willow have told me, you're like the stable male -slash- big brother figure in her life," Cordelia frowned. "So, I betcha she's not gonna take that news well... "
Earlier that day – Turner and Peterson Construction, Head Office, Los Angeles; afternoon:
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Mary asked, as she entered her boss's office.
"Yeah." John Peterson glanced up at her as she slid into the chair opposite his desk, and his grey eyes immediately warmed up and crinkled at the corners. "I need you to take a letter. Bear with me a moment, while I organize my thoughts... "
He then spoke for the next five minutes or so, composing a letter to the CEO of the firm which Aura White worked for. Mary expertly took shorthand notes on how both he and Mr. Turner hoped that the new collaboration between their respective companies would be the start of a long and fruitful partnership, and what directions T&P Construction would like the partnership to proceed, assuming the pilot project Miss White was going to be managing in South America and Borneo over the next month or so was successful. He eventually finished up and said to Mary, "Type it all up on your PC, append my signature, and then email the final draft to me so that I can make any last-minute changes before you send it off, OK?"
"Yes, sir," Mary said, before hesitating slightly. "Uh, Mr. Peterson, would you have a few minutes for us to discuss something else, later on? I, um, got a phone call from Sunnydale, just before you buzzed me. And there's something I'd like to discuss with you, as a result of that conversation."
"Huh." Mr. Peterson stared at her silently, and Mary did her best not to squirm under that curious gaze. "Sounds serious. You're not planning on quitting on me, are you?"
"What? Oh, no, sir!" Mary denied it vehemently. "I like it here, and I'm happy working for you. This is about... something else."
"Ah. All right, then. Come back in about a half-hour or so," Mr. Peterson said dismissively, yet with a look of veiled interest in his eyes. "We can talk about it after that letter's done."
Mary nodded, and quickly exited the office. Sitting down at her desk, the Executive Secretary began transcribing her notes and composing Peterson's letter in the appropriate language. After finishing up her assigned task and sending off the email to her boss, Mary took a deep breath and headed off for the bathroom in order to freshen up a little.
Unfortunately for her, once she settled into the middle stall in order to relieve the pressure on her bladder, she heard a noise and looked up – only for a blast of amber light to hit her, directly between the eyes.
"The things I have to do for the cause," Amy said in annoyance, as she climbed down off the porcelain toilet bowl in the opposite stall. She put the ceramic bottle back in her pocket, and briefly shook her head. "Sheesh... "
A few seconds later Mary blinked, uncertain about what just happened. She had the oddest feeling that she'd forgotten something, but she couldn't figure out what it was. Confused, she exited the stall, washed her hands, went back to her desk and resumed work, until Mr. Peterson buzzed her again. The Executive Secretary entered his office and said, "Yes, sir?"
"You wanted to discuss something with me, Mary. Something about Sunnydale?" he asked, somewhat impatiently.
"Sunnydale, sir? I... yes, I got a phone call from there earlier today, but I... I can't remember what it was about now," she said nervously, her face betraying her uncertainty.
"What do you mean? Is there a problem with the Sunnydale office's operations?"
"I don't think so, sir. Oh, wait, I remember there was something about a delay on one of the projects there – something to do with an incorrect shipment of screws, which can't be used on the building's girders. And there were some issues with Sunnydale High School, the sports arena, and the new site for the Montecito Convention Center. But the Junior VP in charge reported that Xander's handling all that, so I figure the problems will be solved soon enough," Mary replied.
Mr. Peterson raised an eyebrow at her casual use of her former lover's name. "Xander Harris, huh? So, you two are on a first name basis, nowadays?"
She blushed, her cheeks turning a deep puce color. "We, ah, got fairly well acquainted during that Management and Planning Skills seminar in Phoenix, sir."
"How well acquainted? No, wait, don't answer. From that look on your face, I figure it's fairly obvious," Mr. Peterson said in amusement, after seeing the blush on Mary's cheeks intensify. He sighed, "I tell you, it's a damn shame how that boy doesn't want to leave his home town. I'd love to put him in charge of the Glendale office, or somewhere even more suitable! Oh, that reminds me, do you have any ideas on who we should install there? Mr. Turner and I do need to make a decision on that fairly soon, after all."
Mary hesitated, again having the funniest feeling that she'd forgotten something. Then she said, "I'm not sure, sir... but, uh, I guess you could ask Xander's immediate boss in Sunnydale if he's interested? The man has to have an eye for talent, if nothing else, promoting Xander into his current position."
"Hrmm. Good point. OK, call him, I want to talk to the man straightaway. If he's a suitable candidate, we'll have him promoted and transferred here to L.A.; and Harris can take over his job, at least on a temporary basis," Mr. Peterson decided. "I want to see just how well the kid can do, before making the position permanent."
"Yes, sir," Mary said dutifully, before departing the office.
In a corner of the office Whistler chuckled amusedly, even though Mr. Peterson appeared to hear nothing, before the Messenger did his usual vanishing trick after walking into the shadows.
A while later – Xander's apartment building, Sunnydale; late afternoon:
Dawn was not in a good mood, as she headed for Xander's home. Not only from the fight with her big sister this morning, but because high school today had pretty much sucked the big one! So after getting a lift from Mrs. Penshaw – the mother of her best friend, Janice – she'd headed for Xander's apartment to de-stress, book bag and all.
Well, OK, she also wanted to know exactly what had happened between Xander and Buffy the previous evening, and why her former crush had thrown Spike out on his rear end – not to mention who this 'cheerleader' was, who had been mentioned in passing earlier that day.
"Xander!" Dawn called out, knocking on the front door. "Open up, it's me – Dawn!"
Almost immediately, the door opened and Xander looked at her in confusion. "Dawnie? What are you doing here at this time of day? Is everything all right? Did you – "
"Hey, chillax!" she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Like, everything's fine. I just wanted to come over and talk to you, now that school's out for the day. And meet your new, uh, roommate?"
"Ohhh... I dunno if that's such a hot idea, Dawn Giovanni," Xander immediately shook his head.
"Why not? Spike said she was a cheerleader of some sort," Dawn frowned.
"Yeah, she... was. It's, um, it's Cordelia," Xander confessed.
"Cordelia? As in your ex-girlfriend, Cordelia Chase?!"
"Yup. One and only Queen C herself. But see, she's got this weird sort of amnesia – "
"What?!" Dawn immediately barged into the apartment, and saw the brunette in question standing not far from the couch. Older, sure, but still recognizable. "Cordelia?"
"What are you?" the Chase woman said at once, looking confused.
"Uh, Cordy, this is Dawn, Buffy's little sister. Remember how I mentioned her to you?" Xander cut in nervously.
"Yeah, I get that, Dumbass. I'm not stupid, even if I can't remember anything beyond the end of junior year! But I didn't ask who she was – I asked what she was! I mean, that's a really pretty green color, but still... "
Instantly, Dawn made the connection. The whole Key thing; that was what Cordelia was seeing right now, instead of... her. { Oh, God, no, no, not again; I can't deal with this again! }
This was her worst nightmare, after all; proof that she really hadn't existed as a human before the August of Y2K.
"Cordelia? What are ya talking about?" Xander asked, even as Dawn instinctively moved into his arms and away from – her.
"What, can't see you it? She's not human, at least not entirely – that green glow that's surrounding her; it's kinda like an aura, but not quite," Cordelia replied, pointing directly at her.
"Oh, man. The Key stuff again?" Xander exclaimed in shock, finally getting a clue. "Look, Cordy, no matter what you can see – this is Dawn Summers, OK? She's Buffy's sister, and Joyce's daughter. And I, I trust her completely!"
"Fine – as long as you wanna vouch for her, that's good enough for me," the brunette shrugged. "It isn't her fault she's what those monks you mentioned fashioned her into, after all."
"So, you can actually see me? I mean, what I used to be, and not the face and body I see every time I look in the mirror?" Dawn semi-whispered. "I don't – how? You're obviously not crazy, or some kinda demonic snake... "
"Well, it's just a guess, of course – but it could be that whole dark stain in my aura thing which I've apparently been infused with," Cordelia shrugged slightly.
"WHAT?!" Dawn exclaimed in disbelief.
The woman exhaled. "Damn it, I don't know! All I know is what Willow told me at that Magic Box place earlier today." Cordelia glanced at Xander and said, "You wanna make with the explanations, Dork?"
"Better that she gets it direct from the source, I'm thinking. C'mon, Dawn star, I better take ya home in my car," Xander shook his head. "Unless Buffy or Will are waiting for you downstairs in your Jeep?"
"No, I-I got a lift here with Janice's mom straight after school," Dawn said thickly, before grabbing her book bag and quickly walking out the door. She ignored Xander's calls to wait for him, wanting to get out of that apartment as soon as possible.
She also wanted to repress about the conversation they'd just had with all her might, but Dawn knew just how low the odds were of that happening.
A few hours later – 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale; evening:
Willow sighed as she shut the kitchen door, in order to avoid hearing Buffy and Dawn's loud voices. They were having an argument over why Dawnie had gone over to Xander's apartment today. { By the Goddess, } she thought to herself wearily, { those two definitely need relationship counseling or something... }
She picked up the kitchen phone, examining her phone card and then entering the codes, and then the digits for the appropriate number in England. Somewhere, across the continent and on the other side of an ocean, connections clicked into place and the other phone started ringing.
After a time – way too long a time, she'd been on the verge of hanging up – someone picked up on the other end. «Hello?»
"Giles?"
«Yes. Willow, is that you?» the British-accented voice asked.
"Yeah, it's me. Hey," Willow said fondly into the mouthpiece. "I was hoping to talk to you – "
«Ah, now's possibly not the best time for i-idle chatter, I'm afraid.»
"What's up?"
«Well, the Council is in a bit of an uproar at the moment, and I-I-I'm afraid it'll delay my leaving for Sunnydale, for... another week, possibly longer.» Rupert's voice replied.
"What? How come?" Willow asked, feeling astonished.
«In a nutshell, dear girl: the Council consists of a bunch of maundering old fossils, wh-who seem to be more interested in debate and playing politics than actually solving a problem.» Giles's voice was so dry it could almost be used to suck moisture out of her pores. «Plus, they seem convinced that only I can possibly understand and interpret what is transpiring in the colonies, as I am woefully... Americanized.»
"You? Giles! I thought they finally learned their lesson about that, with that stupid review Buffy was forced to undertake two years ago!" Willow shook her head in disbelief. Then she straightened up. "Anyway, that's not why I called."
«It's not?»
"No. Um, two things; one concerns Cordelia, and the other relates to Faith," Willow said firmly.
«I'm sorry. Willow, did, did you just say Cordelia and Faith?» Giles's voice now sounded completely flabbergasted.
"Yeah, uh, Xander went to visit her in prison yesterday, drove all the way over to Stockton to do it. I had lunch with him and Cordy today, and, uh... well, Xander says that Faith's not the same kill-crazy Slayer she was three years ago. Not anymore, she's been... rehabilitated. So, so, I-I think it'd help if the Council got her out of there, what with the way all the Potential Slayers are being targeted right now," Willow said, hesitantly.
«Willow. Do you understand – do you have any idea – what it is you're asking me to do?» Giles's voice had now lost all trace of friendliness. «You're actually requesting my assistance to arrange the release of a, a self-confessed murderer?»
"Well, gee. You did it for me, after I murdered Warren and Rack," Willow replied coldly. "What's the matter, Giles? You're suddenly picky about which female killer you want to help? Or is it that you don't trust Xander's opinion of the situation, you think Faith's pulling the wool over his eyes or something?"
«No, of course not!» the Englishman now sounded more contrite. «Um, wh-what exactly did the boy say, when you spoke with him?»
"Xander said that he told Faith what was going on with the First, and he warned her about the threat that might be coming from that direction. Then he asked her if there was anything different he could have done back then to prevent her from going over to the Mayor's side, and she said no. Oh, and Xander asked her whether she wanted to bust out of there and come back to Sunnydale to help us deal with everything that's going on around here, and again she said no. Well, yes, she wanted to help, but no she wasn't breaking out of prison in order to do it. Because Faith said she wanted to make amends for killing those two people by staying there in that jail, even though Xander told me how that place couldn't possibly hold her, if she decided she wanted out," Willow babbled, before finally realizing what she was doing and shutting herself up.
«Hrmm.»
"What, Giles?"
«Well, there is a way to get Faith out of that prison facility, without her going over the wall and becoming a, uh, wanted felon.» Rupert's voice said hesitantly. «Unfortunately, it's not one to be undertaken lightly, at least not under normal circumstances.»
"What do you mean?" Willow asked in confusion.
«A Presidential pardon.» Giles said, which made Willow suck in a deep breath. «According to a, um, classified treaty between the British Crown and the United States federal government, th-there exists an... arrangement, if you will, that if a Slayer is convicted and sent to prison by the courts in the performance of her duties, a secret, off-the-books request to the White House by Her Majesty's representative to the Council, will, err, will secure that Slayer's release. No questions asked.»
"Wow. The Council actually has that kind of pull?" Willow asked in amazement, and more than a little disbelief.
«Of course. Perhaps if you think back to when Quentin and his review panel arrived in Sunnydale, supposedly to help us deal with Glory, y-you'll recall how he mentioned that I could be deported the very next day, with just the stroke of a pen?» Giles's voice was now back to its previous dry quality. «At any rate, that is the only option if we wish to have Faith freed without, um, consequences. The Council doesn't believe in doing business with low-level government, after all.»
"So, you'll do it? Contact this representative guy?"
«Err... »
"GILES!"
«Oh, very well. If you think it best.» Giles audibly sighed. «Now, you mentioned something else about, uh, Cordelia?»
"Oh! Yeah. She's back in Sunnydale, with a weird sort of amnesia of some kind," Willow replied, sounding a lot more cheerful now that the first part of her request for help has been approved.
«I'm sorry. But I'm afraid I'm starting to feel as if I'm in one of those dreadful American sitcoms of yours, o-or something of that sort. Did, did you just say-?»
"Yeah, Giles, I did. And you better sit down, if you're not doing so already – this is probably gonna take a while to explain properly," Willow said, ignoring the latest argument between Dawn and Buffy not far away.
TBC…
A/N: So what do you think? Should Giles help get Faith out of prison? Should Xander engage in a three way relationship with Cordelia, Faith and Anya? Would he even survive it, if someone brought up the possibility of such a thing? Will Amy demand better wages and conditions, or threaten to form a magical workers' union of some sort if Whistler tries to stall her on that? Should the Summers sisters go see a shrink? Should Kate simply give up and just go back to her wonderful, everyday normal life?
But seriously, we hope you enjoyed the chapter, and we thank you for reading and telling us what you think! And Guest, thank you for your anonymous review...
