Chapter Twenty-six
Thursday, November 14, 2002 – the main lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; early morning:
Angel scowled, pacing around helplessly. He could vaguely hear Fred and Gunn arguing in the kitchen, and was somewhat surprised to learn that they were on a 'break' – whatever that really meant – but mostly, his thoughts were focused on Cordelia. His best friend, his Seer, and maybe even the woman he loved –
Frowning, Angel went into his office, got out his sketch pad and started to draw Cordelia's face. He drew her happy, sad, in pain from the visions, frowning, laughing, angry about something or other. He quickly filled up the pad and was about to get another, when the phone rang. So he picked up and said, "Hello?"
«Hello? Angel?» Kate's familiar voice said from the other end of the line.
"Yeah. What's up?" Angel winced at his somewhat curt tone of voice. "Sorry, Kate – I, uh, that came out completely wrong. It's just that I still haven't been able to find any trace of Cordelia, and I guess I'm kinda – "
«No need to explain, I get it.» Kate interrupted. «I'm just calling to give you a heads-up; L.A.'s finest are gonna be paying your hotel a visit soon. I still have one or two friends on the force who tell me what's going on – apparently, your little 'chat' with Officer Castillo and Officer Hodges didn't go so well, huh?»
"No, I guess not," Angel replied, feeling annoyed. Both with those cops and with himself, for letting them rile him up so easily.
«Well, just thought I'd mention that if your son is still there? Might be smart for him to find an elsewhere to be.» Lockley's voice said crisply. «He's a wanted man right now, and I figure you wouldn't want to get arrested for aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice.»
"You're right, I don't. Damn it," Angel cursed. "I've been trying to figure out a way to get Connor off the hook for all that, but I haven't been able to come up with anything so far. I don't suppose you've got any ideas?"
«Sorry, but no.» the ex-cop replied sympathetically. «About the only thing I can suggest is that your kid gets outta town for a while. Like six months or a year, maybe, until the heat's off.»
"I don't think that's an option," Angel said, shaking his head. "Well, thanks anyway; both for the warning and the advice."
«You're welcome. Oh, and by the way? You might wanna look into getting your machine fixed.» Kate's voice now sounded a bit annoyed. «I called a bit earlier, and couldn't even leave a message when no one picked up.»
"What?" Angel said in confusion. "Huh. OK, I'll – have a look at it. Thanks again, Kate."
«You're welcome.» There was a short click! as the woman hung up.
Angel placed the phone back on the receiver, and with a frown, quickly departed his private office. Once in the lobby, he checked out the answering machine; and even though it initially looked fine to him, he soon found the loose wires that prevented the device from working properly.
{ How did this happen? } Angel asked himself suspiciously, as he quickly fixed the machine. { And of all the times for it to go on the fritz, damn it! Someone might have called with news regarding Cordelia, and we'd never even have known! }
Suddenly, a thought began to coalesce inside Angel's mind. Something Kate had said – about how Cordelia was either dead, or out of range of that locator spell – and something that white cop with the mustache had said last night, how Cordy wanted to go home – put them both together, and what did that –
"Hey, Dad?" Connor's voice intruded upon Angel's awareness, shattering his concentration and forcing him to pay attention elsewhere.
"Yeah, son, what is it?" Angel replied, blinking.
"Was that Cordelia on the phone just now?" the boy asked hopefully.
He sighed, shaking his head. "No, sorry. It was Kate; she warned me that the LAPD is going to be coming here soon. And that it would be a good idea if you weren't around when that happened," Angel said somewhat apologetically.
"Right. So, why are the police coming here?" Connor asked suspiciously.
"I'm not sure. I guess that as Cordelia's employer, they want to interview me, find out everything I know about her – and, uh, you. Couldn't have come at a worse possible time, but there's nothing for it but to just humor whoever shows up here, and get rid of them as soon as possible," Angel shrugged.
"There are times this world really annoys me," Connor said disdainfully. "Things were a lot simpler in Quor-toth, you know. If it gets in your way, just kill it and move on."
"Yeah, well. When I was Angelus? That was my philosophy, too. And yet, look what that led to; the curse and all," Angel shook his head. "Son, if there's one piece of advice from me you should always remember, it's this; actions do have consequences. Some you'll see coming, some you won't. I mean, do you remember what happened back when you first arrived in this world? With that girl named Sunny, and that drug dealer named Tyke?"
Connor scowled, obviously recalling the dead female addict in question very well. Not to mention the man whose ear he had cut off as a trophy. "Yeah, I remember. All right, fine, I'm leaving. I'll be back later, maybe around sunset."
"OK." Angel suddenly had an idea, and grabbed his cell phone from the nearby counter. "Here, take this. If there's an emergency, we can contact you – or you can contact us, OK?"
Connor looked at the communication device dubiously. "How do I use this thing? I mean, I've seen the others use them, but I don't... " he trailed off, suddenly looking annoyed over his lack of knowledge.
"Uh – " Angel was ashamed to admit that he wasn't quite certain himself. "To answer an incoming call, I think you press this button. Or is it this one? I, I'm not entirely sure... "
A short while later – Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale; mid-morning:
"Damn it," Buffy cursed to herself, while washing her hands in the female staff bathroom. "Just – damn it all to hell!"
The Slayer looked at herself in the mirror, before loudly cursing again in frustration. Nothing was right any longer – Willow was tiptoeing around her on egg shells, Dawn couldn't even look at her let alone speak to her, Xander was – no, she didn't want to think about him right now – and Spike was dead. Well, he'd always been dead, technically speaking, but –
There was a big difference between being 'vampire' dead, and being 'dust' dead. And it was all Cordelia's fault, damn her!
Buffy couldn't help feeling that somehow, this entire mess was entirely due to that bitch showing up in Sunnydale again! Before the brunette had made her unwelcome appearance, everything had been – well, not fine, but at least... manageable. But over the past few days, Cordelia had wrecked just about everything! Like, before she'd shown up again, Xander would never even have dared to –
{ Oooh, jeez, } Buffy thought to herself angrily, albeit mixed with a certain degree of shame over how she had assaulted him last night. { How dare Xander tell me that I'm on my third strike, or whatever crap that was? Doesn't he care about my pain? How I'm grieving over Spike's death? No, of course he doesn't! Deep down, the guy hasn't changed a bit since the first day we met – as far as Xander's concerned, the only good vampire is a dusted one! Why can't he see, why can't he understand – }
"Having a rough day, are we?"
That accented male voice made Buffy whirl around, stammering, "Spike-?" But then she took a good look at the platinum-haired figure, as well as the sunlight coming in through the bathroom window, and she quickly figured out the truth. "So. You're back again. What is it this time, First-y?"
Spike/the First laughed, looking amused. "What makes ya think I don't show up just for the pleasant conversations we have, luv?"
"I'm not your 'luv', damn it – so don't call me that," Buffy replied, annoyed. "And stop looking like him, will you? It's – annoying."
"You mean painful," the eldritch horror corrected her at once, smirking. "Must be hard looking at this face after learning that I'd made good ol' Spike start killing people again, eh? Bloody shame how that didn't work out, I hafta admit. I had major plans there, ya know; went to all that trouble of implanting a trigger in the bloke's head to get him to do my will. Still, reckon you must be glad that my Bringers are gonna be targeting his killer from now on, eh? Good to know we're on the same page where that Cordelia girl is concerned, anyway."
"We're not on the same page about anything!" Buffy snarled angrily.
"Now, now," Spike/the First grinned at her. "Your boy Xander – although he's not really yours anymore, is he? – anyway, the glorified bricklayer definitely had a point during that conversation last night. You wouldn't have pulled your punch with that bimbo the way you did with him – and we both know it, pet. Right now, you'd be locked up in jail if that thick-headed git hadn't gotten in yer way. And that principal bloke, Wood? School board would've made him kick you out on yer arse; parents wouldn't want some disturbed killer counselling their kids, would they? You'd have lost custody o' Dawn, not ta mention; that woulda been the final straw as far as Child Services was concerned. Remember that Doris woman you messed 'round with last year, back when you were invisible? She'd have done fer you right proper, she would have!"
"Fine. So I owe Xander, big time. The hell is that got to do with you?" Buffy demanded, trying not to let this thing rattle her.
'Spike' morphed into the image of Jenny Calendar. Jenny/the First then said, "Have you forgotten? Like I told you way back when, I am everywhere. Every being, every thought, every drop of hate. Every evil thing you do, it brings you closer to me. And this time, there will be no easy escape into Heaven for you. Seriously, Buffy, you think they'd ever let someone like you through the Pearly Gates again? Newsflash, but people who willingly fornicate with a soulless demon, they aren't exactly welcome there. Least of all someone who doesn't actually regret what she did! The rules are such that you will never see your mother again, once I am finally made flesh and kill you and all your friends. Does that answer your question?"
The apparition of Jenny shrank into a ball of light, and was replaced for an instant by an image of a huge, semi-transparent, horned and clawed beast coming at her, roaring and with its eyes glowing red. It faded as quickly as it appeared, though. Buffy stared in shock as the First's voice said mockingly, "TTFN!" before silence engulfed her once more.
A few hours later – Xander's new office, T&P Construction and Contracting, Sunnydale; lunchtime:
"Crap," Xander cursed to himself, his head starting to ache. There was so damn much to do, today –
Even though the final issues with the high school had at last been settled, the other problems facing this branch of the company hadn't. The Sunnydale sports arena project still wasn't going according to plan; a colleague in Legal had phoned him to say that they would have to set up a client meeting sometime next week, to sort it all out. The Montecito Convention Center job had hit a few snags too, something about noise pollution and damaging the local ecosystem. He'd have to get the new assistant Junior VP to hire an environmental consultant, delegate what he could –
"Hello, Dorkhead!"
Blinking, Xander came out of his mental musings to stare at his girlfriend, who had entered the office without him even realizing it. "Cordy? What are you – uh, is that a picnic basket?"
"Sure is. I figured what with the black eye and all, you'd be so scatterbrained as to forget about having lunch completely; so, I decided to head over here in order to make sure you got something to eat," Cordelia mock-glared at him, even though her eyes told a totally different story.
"Uh, right. Um, how'd you get past my new secretary?"
"Simple. I introduced myself as your girlfriend before I showed her a picture of us together from back in high school, and she told me to go straight in. That was real nice of her," Cordelia nodded. "She also told me to make sure you take some meds if you're in pain, that black eye had her worried. So, how'd you explain that to her?"
"Ah, classic 'two guys get into a fight over a girl' scenario. And I mighta mentioned something about if she thought I looked bad, she oughta see the other guy," Xander replied, shrugging.
"Huh. If only that were true, where Buffy's concerned," Cordy said somewhat cattily, before changing the subject. "So, are you gonna give me any crap about not having time for lunch? Or are you gonna do the sensible thing and just knuckle under, like a good boyfriend?"
"Well, seeing as I know which one'll keep me on your good side, plus the fact that I'm kinda starving? Thinkin' you can guess which, honey," he shrugged, smiling.
"Good." Cordy put the picnic basket on his desk, and as Xander came around from the other side, she grabbed him into a smoking-hot passionate kiss. It was slow, deep and sensual, as well as filled with need and desire...
Eventually, he broke it off before they lost all self-control and had sex right there on his office desk. Xander told himself, { Not yet, damn it. Maybe later tonight, but not here and not NOW! }
"Um, lunch?" Xander said, trying to get himself under control.
"I know what you're hungry for right now – and it isn't food, Captain Obvious," Cordelia snarked back with a smile, as her right hand drifted down to the bulge in his pants. She gave his groin as soft squeeze and said, "Believe me, I feel the same way. But since I don't want to become company gossip, and you only just got your new job, like yesterday – "
"Yeah, you're right. And it's been over three years since we were together that way, so I can wait a few more hours," Xander promised her, before they briefly smooched again. "Still, there's something we need to discuss."
"Which is?"
"Where exactly we go from here." Xander started to take stuff out of the picnic basket as he added, "I mean, even though I'm sure neither of us is exactly keen on the subject, we do need to find Angel and your friends in L.A. and tell 'em that you're OK. I've given up trying to phone them, and so has everyone else by now; so, what do you think? On Saturday, we take a drive south to the big city, and grab all your stuff while we're there? Assuming you decide to stay here in Sunnydale, of course."
"Of course, I'm going to stay here with you!" she snapped at him, almost viciously. "God! Haven't I made that clear enough by this point? As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing there for me in Los Angeles! Everything I want is right here in this office!"
"Yeah, but... "
"But what?"
"You do have a life there, Cor, even if you don't remember it. Maybe never will remember it, if what Willow and Jonathan told us is true," Xander sighed, scratching his chin for a few moments. "I'm just saying, once we find them – your friends might not wanna let you go, at least not just like that. Especially not Dead Boy."
Ooh, there was her patented Death Glare again, right on cue. { Makes me glad I'm still walking wounded as far as Cordy's concerned, or she might have slapped me upside the head for that one! }
"I make my own decisions, nobody owns me," Cordelia said slowly, her eyes boring into his like lasers. "And if Angel thinks he's my keeper or whatever? I'll soon set that vampire straight, soul or otherwise. Point a stake at his chest, until he gets the freaking message!"
Xander shrugged and held his hands up in surrender, as Cordelia started spreading the table cloth over his desk for their picnic lunch. He couldn't help feeling, though, that if (or rather, when) that conversation took place? He definitely wanted to be there to witness it...
A few hours later – the main lobby of the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; late afternoon:
"Damn it," Angel cursed to himself, pacing around the room. The cops had come and gone earlier today, a couple of plain-clothes detectives – he'd actually recognized one of them, a former uniform from the days when Kate was still with the LAPD – and he'd pretended to cooperate as much as possible. But once they'd left, there had been nothing for him to do except wait for sunset, in order to resume the hunt for the missing Cordelia. And pace helplessly around the hotel, of course.
"Hey, Angel," Fred said, coming down the stairs. "What's happening?"
"Not a lot," he shrugged.
Fred shrugged back. "Not surprised. Myself, I've been trying to figure out where Cordelia might be; I even went back to her old apartment earlier today. But there was no one there. Not even Dennis."
"Cordelia's ghost?" Angel frowned. "He's not there anymore? Huh. That's weird."
"You're telling me. It's strange how you can take someone for granted, until they're simply not there any longer. Weird, definitely," Fred said, not looking at him.
Worried about his missing Seer or not, Angel knew that the petite brunette wasn't talking about Cordelia anymore. Plus, he'd seen for himself how Fred and Gunn had been acting around one another since yesterday. "Look, Fred, this is probably none of my business; but about you and Gunn – "
"You're right, Angel, it's not your business. And I don't want to discuss it," Fred interrupted him.
"Fine. But if you need someone to talk to – I'm here for you," Angel promised her.
"Thanks, but it's – complicated. Charles and me," Fred said slowly, after sighing deeply. "We're sort of on a break right now."
"Yeah, I kinda heard – but, um, why?"
Fred quickly told him everything. How Gunn had killed Oliver Seidel instead of letting her do it, how they'd had a discussion -slash- fight over that the other night, and how she had asked him to move out until further notice. Angel didn't know what to say, and so he just let the woman ramble on about the subject. And then, later, about whatever crossed her mind.
"I mean, I almost wish I hadn't come out of the amnesia, you know? Being seventeen again seems kinda like the comfy alternative, compared to dealing with all the problems Charles and I have right now. Back when I was attending high school in San Antonio, I didn't have to deal with this kind of thing! I'm pretty sure Cordelia didn't, either, when she was living in that place she mentioned on Sunday night – what was it called, Sunny-something –"
"Sunnydale," Angel said automatically, before something went click! inside his brain.
"OF COURSE! What's the matter with me?!" he yelled, slamming his right palm against his forehead in frustration. "No wonder that locator spell couldn't find her! And Cordelia thinks she's seventeen... where else would she have gone that night, except back to the Hellmouth! And, damn it – Buffy and the others must have called here to tell us that once she showed up in Sunnydale, but no one would have been present when the phone rang, and the damn answering machine wasn't working! Uggghhh... "
Cursing under his breath and ignoring Fred's wide-eyed look of shock, Angel quickly grabbed the phone and punched in the number for Buffy's house. "Come on, come on... "
«Hello?» Dawn's voice said from the other end of the line, sounding kinda breathless.
"Dawn? It's me, Angel. Is your sister there?" he said in a big rush. "No, wait, is Cordelia there?"
«Angel?» Dawn sounded very surprised. «Where the heck have you been? We've been trying to get hold of you and your people for days!»
"I know, I know. Magic spell, we all thought we were seventeen again, yadda yadda yadda," Angel said hurriedly. "Please, Dawn, have you seen Cordelia or not?"
«Sure. She's fine – well, y'know, apart from the amnesia thing.» Dawn's voice suddenly had a slight hitch to it. «I think she's with Xander right now – »
"Oh, thank God," Angel cut her off. He was so happy Cordelia was safe that he barely even registered how his Seer was with that annoying Harris kid. "Can you contact her, tell Cordy that we're coming to Sunnydale for her as soon as I hang up?"
«Yeah, but Angel – »
"That's great! Thank you, Dawn," Angel said hurriedly, cutting her off again and not giving the female teen a chance to complete her sentence. "It'll take us a couple of hours, what with traffic at this time of day – but we'll be there by sunset, if not before. Just don't let Cordelia go anywhere – I'm on my way!" He slammed down the phone and nearly shattered it, almost losing control of his superhuman strength in the excitement of the moment.
"Cordelia? You've found her?" Connor's voice said from the front doors of the hotel. He looked excited and pleased, before his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Were you even going to tell me that you'd located her? Or would you have just rushed off all by yourself, and kept me out of it?"
"Connor, please. It's not like that! Look, son, this has got to stop – I mean, this isn't a competition, and Cordy isn't a prize for us to fight over!" Angel groaned desperately.
"Isn't it? And isn't she?" Connor shot back, coming forward. "Don't think I don't know how you feel about her. Even if it's madness to think she'd choose you over me."
"Guys, please, stop it!" Fred pleaded desperately.
"What's going on down here?" Lorne asked, as he and Gunn came down the stairs.
"We've found Cordelia!" Connor told him excitedly, before calming down and staring at him. "Where is she, anyway?"
"Sunnydale," Angel said immediately.
"The Hellmouth?" Gunn looked disgusted. "Man, I heard about that place!"
"So have I," Lorne frowned. "So have I... "
Two hours later – outside 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale; just after sunset:
Angel's convertible came to a halt outside the Summers residence, and right behind it, Gunn's truck did the same. Everyone scrambled out of the vehicles, looking at the two-storey house as Angel lifted the trunk of the car, and climbed out from inside the vehicle's storage compartment.
"So this is Sunnydale, huh?" Gunn looked around in distaste.
"Yeppers. For some reason, it reminds me of a cross between Pleasantville and Nightmare on Elm Street," Fred said grumpily. It had been a long drive here from L.A., especially with Angel and Connor constantly asking how long it would take to get here during the journey. She'd finally told them to shut up, or else she'd pop the trunk and let the sunlight kill her undead boss – not to mention she'd drive off a bridge and drown both herself and Connor, if he didn't cut it out as well.
"Oh, believe me, it's worse," Angel mentioned, stretching to get the kinks out of his body. "I used to live here, so I know what I'm talking about."
"We're wasting time," Connor said curtly, before pointing to the house. "You're sure this is the place?"
"Yeah, son. Uh, wait, who's got that elixir to restore Cordelia's memory?" Angel asked, looking around at his crew.
"I do. And by the by, it's been nearly seventy-two hours," Lorne said warningly, bringing the metallic bottle out of his pocket. "Therefore, I suggest we don't dawdle."
Angel nodded and led the way to the house, before Connor rushed past him and started banging on the front door. It soon opened up, and everyone went inside –
A while later –1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale; not long after sunset:
Cordelia's eyes almost bulged out of her head, after listening to Angel talk about the past three years or so. Especially the past twelve months, and everything that had happened –
How she'd hidden the fact that the visions she'd inherited from that Doyle guy were slowly killing her, and how she'd chosen to give up half of her humanity, thanks to some demon guide named Skip; instead of choosing wealth and fame as a successful TV star. Her ascension and her return with amnesia, leading to living with Connor – and then asking Angel if they'd been in love, the night of the memory spell.
Well, at least that explained why the vampire had looked like he'd wanted to rush over and hug her, the moment he'd entered the house – before she'd lifted a stake and glared at him fiercely, to disabuse the walking corpse of that insane notion. But as for everything else she'd heard –
Cordelia semi-yelled, "I so did not do all that! I wouldn't have – who the hell is this person you're talking about, mister!?"
Angel looked hurt and confused by the fact that she'd made it clear how she didn't trust him, or want to have anything to do with him. "Cordelia – "
"Don't talk to me like we're friends, either," she interrupted him angrily. "Like I said after you just barged in through the front door, I'm not the Cordelia Chase you know! Not anymore, anyway. And sorry, but I don't know any of you people – apart from when we spoke for a few minutes back on Sunday night. And for the record, you little creep?"
Cordelia looked at Connor and snarled, "You stay the hell away from me! Understand? Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the save from that band of intended rapists, but that gratitude only goes so far – and you try to grab me and haul me off somewhere again, I'll hurt you badly!" She held up the wooden stake in her right hand a bit higher.
"She won't be the only one, either," Xander said, easily ignoring the glare from Angel's son.
"Look, no one is gonna try anything like that. Not in my home," Buffy said loudly, getting everyone's attention. "Is that clear?"
"Fine," Gunn shrugged.
"OK," Fred nodded.
"Peachy," Lorne added.
"Yeah, we... we didn't come here for a fight," Angel said, trying not to look bothered by how close she was standing to her boyfriend – but failing miserably, in Cordelia's not-so-humble opinion. The vampire then stared at Xander and asked, "So, what happened to your eye?"
Harris reached up to gingerly touch his left peeper. "Fortunes of war, I guess ya could say. Someone was trying to hurt Cordelia, I got in the way."
"Thank you," Angel replied, missing the uncomfortable look on Buffy's face. Not that she did. Then the vampire asked, "Who was it? Spike?"
"No. He's dust now," Dawn said, looking uncomfortable and upset. "Cordy killed him last night, after he tried to attack her and Xander."
Cordelia noticed the surprised look on Angel's face, but decided not to comment on it. Hey, priorities and all –
"Who's Spike?" Connor wanted to know, staring at the human incarnation of the Key.
"Spike was – Spike. He was a vampire who was in love with me, so much so that he went and got his soul back for me," Buffy said hollowly.
"WHAT?" most of Angel's Avengers yelped in surprise.
"No, never mind; I don't care any longer. If there's one less vampire in this world, so be it," Connor said with a slight shrug, causing some of the Scooby Gang to scowl at him. He then told Lorne, "Give her the elixir."
"Here ya go, Princess," the demon nodded. Cordelia took the bottle and looked at it, suspiciously. The green... thing then added, "Take a quick gulp of that – and please, hurry! Its use-by date must be coming up any second, since we've been chatting away like this for ages."
"What's it do?" Cordy demanded, looking around at Angel's Avengers.
"It'll break Lorne's spell, and finally restore your memories," Angel said by way of explanation.
"What?" more than one member of the Hellmouth crowd said in astonishment.
"Wait, no, Cordy – don't drink that! There's no telling what effect it might have on you, whether it'll activate that thing you've been infected with!" Willow said urgently.
"What are you talking about?" Connor demanded roughly, looking sick and tired about the delays. "No, never mind; again, I don't care. Cordelia, drink up! It's perfectly safe – everyone here has tried it, and it's restored them back to normal. Even him!" He pointed at his father.
"It's true, Cordelia. Please, there isn't much time, and that stuff is apparently very expensive. I mean, we can always get more, but... " Angel trailed off, seeing the suddenly-infuriated look on her face.
"You. Undead. Cheapskate," Cordelia growled at him, causing the vampire to step back in alarm. "You want me to drink this crap because you're worried about money? Well, even if I wasn't going to say 'screw this' on general principles before, your attitude has pretty much clinched it!" So saying, she threw the metallic bottle at Angel's head, and he just barely managed to duck out of the way – as it crashed against the wall, the stopper came flying off and the no-longer-glowing blue liquid splattered all over the wallpaper, before the bottle fell to the ground with a loud 'thunk!'
"NO!" Connor yelled angrily, stepping forward – only to find Xander in his path.
"Back off, pal," he said with quiet menace. "Cordy's made her choice. And if that's how she feels, no one is going to force her into doing anything she doesn't want to do. Including you."
Connor glared at him, but Xander was already looking in Angel's direction. "And you, Captain Forehead."
Angel ignored her boyfriend completely, and stepped forward, obviously hoping to reason with her somehow. But Cordelia just lifted her stake again and told him, "Do not push your luck on this, Mister I Killed People for Centuries! 'Cause if you do? OK, I might not vaporize you like I did Spike; but I will shove this stake so far up your ass that you'll be crapping wooden splinters, for the rest of your un-life!"
Angel immediately stepped back, looking stunned. Willow and Jonathan wisely broke into the discussion at that point, and explained in more detail how she was infected with a dark presence of some kind, and that all of their research suggested that breaking the memory spell would wake up the whatever-it-was, with really bad results. This sparked another argument with Angel and his team, with the souled vampire insisting that her memory be restored anyway.
"You don't believe me, do you?" Willow demanded of Angel, starting to look angry. "You don't believe that I know what I'm talking about, with regards to that dark infection – or else you don't want to believe it. So, which is it?"
"Angel?" Buffy asked, after the souled vampire refused to answer the question.
"Does it even matter? Because I've already made my decision, you know," Cordelia said scathingly, leaning against Xander as he put an arm around her waist and offered her unspoken support. "And just in case it isn't clear, Angel? I quit."
"What?" The vampire looked like he couldn't quite process that right now.
"You heard me; I quit. I resign. You no longer employ me. You are no longer part of my life in any way, shape or form! Is any of this registering inside that empty space you call a brain up there?" she demanded, gesturing upwards with her stake. "I'm handing in my notice, and screw that whole 'two weeks' thing. We're done, right now – got it?"
"But, but you can't quit. Can you?" Fred looked alarmed and astonished by this latest development.
"Oh? And why can't I?" Cordy demanded angrily. "You think that I'm obligated to stay with you people, for some insane-o reason? Or that I can't find another job here in Sunnydale? Or what, Little Miss Felony User?"
"Hey, now, Barbie – ain't no need for that," Gunn scowled at her. "This is what you were like as a teenager, girl, kinda makes me glad y'all grew up a bit before we met in L.A."
"Oh, well, thanks for your input, Hair Club," Cordelia retorted sarcastically. "So, whatever happened to that Wesley guy? You lost him, after you two went out to hunt Angel down that night?"
There was a loud knock on the front door at that moment, and looking relieved, Buffy went to answer it. She opened the door, and Cordelia could see the Slayer's jaw drop immediately.
"Hello, Miss Summers. I hope I'm not arriving at a bad time?" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce asked politely, with a nervous-looking female teen standing beside him.
A few moments later – the same place; a while after sunset:
"Whoa!" the teenage girl exclaimed, almost immediately after entering the house. She pointed at Lorne and said, "Who – what – is that?!"
"Oh! Hello, sweet-cake," he gave her his most winning smile. "And you mean, little old moi? My name's Lorne. What's yours?"
"I'm Kennedy," the brunette replied in a rattled tone of voice, before looking around at the other occupants of the house. She then turned towards Wes and said, "OK, what's going on? I thought you said you were gonna take me somewhere safe – "
"That I did, and that I have," the former head of Angel Investigations cut her off. "This is the residence of the Vampire Slayer, Buffy Summers. The Chosen One – or, nowadays, one of the Chosen Two, as it were."
"Whatever. Look, Wes, we're kinda in the middle of a situation here –" the blond cupcake in question started to say impatiently.
"I know, Miss Summers. The First Evil's forces are slaughtering Potential Slayers all around the world. Miss Greene is one of them, I only just managed to prevent her murder whilst I was in New York," Wes interrupted coldly – and to Lorne's ear, he didn't sound as if he actually cared whether Little Miss Potential lived or died. "After a brief discussion on the subject with her father, it was decided to bring her here. Safety in numbers, and all that."
"Uh, so – would you like something to drink, or eat?" the Slayer's little sister asked Kennedy politely. "The kitchen's this way, if you do."
"Oh, God yes. I mean, airplane food? It is to vomit," the Potential Slayer nodded enthusiastically, as she followed Dawn out of the room.
"Uh, Wesley... " Fred started to say hesitantly.
"What?" the ex-Watcher asked, with not even a trace of warmth in his voice.
Lorne listened as Fred hesitantly suggested that maybe Wesley should have a look at the information which that Willow girl and Jonathan guy had unearthed regarding the 'dark virus' which the Princess had been infected with, before coming back from the Higher Realms. To his surprise, Angel immediately vetoed that suggestion –
"Why not? I mean, we need someone to do the Watcher-type research, since Giles isn't here right now," the Buffy girl spoke up, looking at her ex-studmuffin oddly. "And Wes may have been a lot of things back then; but as I recall, he knew his way around the books, if nothing else!"
"Well, this is just a guess, of course – but I rather suspect that Angel no longer trusts me with regard to anything which he considers important. Including Cordelia's welfare," Wesley suddenly smirked. "Most likely because I was partly responsible for his son Connor, here... " Wes gestured towards Angel's little nipper, "...being kidnapped by his worst enemy, and raised by said enemy in a truly hellish demon dimension."
"Jeez. Really? And I actually attended Senior Prom with you? What the hell was wrong with me?" Cordelia asked with a look of distaste.
"Good question, kid. But it's not really one that's all that relevant right now," a Bronx-accented voice replied, as a lugubrious-looking man suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
A moment later – the same place; a while after sunset:
Angel's eyes widened in amazement. "Whistler? What are you doing here?"
He vaguely noticed Buffy looking at the Messenger for the Powers with minor disgust, but didn't pay much attention to that. He was too busy looking and feeling stunned, after his former mentor sent him an insulting look – and then started to chastise him for being unable to avoid thinking with his schlong, where the women were concerned...
"Good grief, Rat Breath. Can't take my eyes off of you for a couple of years without you getting the hots for whatever femme you fixate on, can I? Cripes, but do you have any idea just how badly you've dropped the ball since leaving here and arriving in Hell-A?"
"What are you talking about?" Angel demanded roughly, surprise quickly turning into anger.
The new arrival started to explain, "My bosses Up There focus so much on the long view that they forget to keep an eye on the day to day stuff – and, unfortunately, they keep the guys like me hoppin' around too much to always monitor a situation properly. Not an excuse, I know, just a reason. And it's just like with Blondie way back when; apparently, no one ever saw the situation with the Cheerleader coming!"
Whistler obviously saw the look of confusion on his face and added, "Newsflash, but that girl was never supposed to go to the City of Angels – or end up your conduit to the Powers, Dumbass! See, the way the threads of Fate would have originally worked out, she was supposed to have Hyena Boy to fall back on when all her money went poof, and stay here in Hellville." Whistler gestured vaguely to a stunned-looking Xander, who still had one arm around Cordelia; only she was the one supporting him, now.
The Messenger kept on going, "Eventually, Vision Girl would have awakened into her psychic potential on her own, like all natural-born Seers do around age twenty-one, and ended up as an ace in the hole for Blondie here – keeping the Slayer out of all kinds of problems. You, schmuck, were supposed to hang on to that damned Gem of Amara, and use it to keep your original conduit from needing to croak when the Scourge came to town. Unfortunately, I forgot that thinking isn't exactly your strong point, and so I didn't drop by to spot-check things often enough... oh, and tell you to get your head out of your ass every once in a while, too!"
Angel growled. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm the Champion for the Powers, not you!"
"Yeah? Well, then – listen up, champ. The truth is, you still don't know squat about what's really going on here!" Whistler said forcefully.
"What's that mean?" Cordelia demanded heatedly.
Angel honestly couldn't believe it as Whistler told her that one of the Powers had gone rogue – that the rogue had been playing its own game for a long time, and having its agents manipulate things behind everyone's backs, leading to Cordelia ending up where she did. The Messenger also mentioned how there was some major housecleaning going on Up There, now that the rogue had been found out and had gone on the run – but luckily, that end of things wasn't his job. "My job is to try and clean up the debris down here, y'know – try to put things back on track as best I can, with the least amount of damage to all concerned."
"I don't believe you. Hell, I don't believe a word of it," Angel growled again. "In fact, I want you to leave. Whistler, none of us want or need you here – "
"Speak for yourself, vampire. Because personally, I find all this fascinating!" Wesley interrupted, ignoring all the looks from practically everyone else. He then said to Whistler, "Hrmm. I'm correct in assuming, am I not, that this rogue Power was the one behind the false prophecy I uncovered that Angel would kill his own son? It secretly manipulated that time-shifter demon, Sahjhan, into doing everything he did?"
"Got it in one, Book Guy," Whistler nodded. He glanced over Connor and said, "There is – or was – a specific timetable. One involving you – and her." The Messenger gestured at Cordelia. "The Power in question couldn't afford to wait a couple decades for you to grow up in this dimensional neck of the woods, which is why that whole thing with Holtz and that hell world you ended up in was set up. And what the rogue wanted for you to do with the Cheerleader – please, nobody ask what it is, if you don't want to up-chuck – kid, you couldn't pull it off as a baby; plus, odds are you'd have been killed by Rat Boy's enemies at some point during the intervening years. Your old man couldn't have protected you from every damn thing out to get the Miracle Kid, after all."
"That's it! I told you to leave – " Angel roared, vamping out and stalking forward.
Straightaway, the Powers' messenger showed him a demonstration of power that Angel couldn't ignore; namely, Whistler morphed into his demon form (a humanoid body but with a blue head made of fire, with black ibex horns) and then he plunged his fist through Angel's gut and out the other side, before saying, "I'm not your minion or your lackey, you undead idjit. I've got a job to do, and I'm not exactly defenseless, either. So don't get in my way or try to screw with me, or you'll regret it even more than you do now!"
Angel couldn't believe it, as he fell to the ground after Whistler withdrew his blood- and guts-covered arm. Buffy screamed his name and went over to him, and then glared at Whistler. Through the pain, Angel saw his former mentor morph back to human form and then say to the Slayer, "I can do that to you as well, Blondie, if you decide it's 'make a hat out of my ribcage' time. Far as me and my bosses as concerned, you're expendable – now that the other Slayer's been reformed and let out of her cage."
The Messenger then saw Cordelia looking at him, and shrugged. "Sorry, Toots, but the little Tree Witch and Geek Boy over there were absolutely right: you got violated by a nasty hitch-hiker up there in the Higher Realms, and if it ever wakes up, what it links to is gonna be all kinds of bad. So you're gonna have to live without the last four and a half years for the rest of your life, unless you actually want to unleash an evil abomination that was destined to end up eating a huge chunk of L.A.'s human population. But what little upside there is, is that if Greenie's memory spell isn't tampered with – then Witchy Girl and Nerd Boy might succeed in exorcising your hitch-hiker one day. Afterwards, some of the memories may trickle back on their own, or they may not. Still, better that than the alternative... "
"Yeah, right," Cordelia nodded slowly. "'Cause that sounds like it's just made of suck!"
Whistler then said to Willow, "You might wanna try looking in Bristow's Demon Index and Rhinehardt's Compendium for clues. And as for you, champ?" The Messenger turned to stare him disparagingly. "You may as well hit the road and head on back to L.A. – because this particular Seer isn't your conduit to the Powers any longer."
"NO!" Angel roared, finally struggling to his feet with Buffy's help, and glaring at his former mentor.
"Excuse me, Mr. Bleeding All Over the Carpet? Didn't you hear me quit working for you, just a few minutes ago?" Cordelia interjected, looking annoyed.
"Cordelia, will you knock it off and let me handle this?!" Angel growled at her, his sense of judgment not at its best right at the moment, what with all the terrible pain he was in. He realized his mistake a moment later, though, and said apologetically, "No, I-I didn't mean it like that – "
"Freudian slip, I think they call it. Kinda telling," Xander interjected, before blithely ignoring the dirty look Angel sent his way.
"Whistler – " Angel then started to say, though whether it was a warning or a plea, even he wasn't sure right now.
"Again, I'm telling you to knock it off with the attitude, Deadite. I'm not here to pander to your ego, I'm here as a representative from the Powers – and since they're not happy right now, neither am I. And just in case it never occurred to you to wonder – do you have any idea what my bosses did to me, after my star protégé lost his soul and joined Team Evil back then? If you want, I can show you in painful and excruciating detail... "
Snorting, the half-demon subsequently informed him that he would be getting a new Seer soon enough, and that the Powers were going to give Cordy the opportunity to regain the life she would have had if her original fate hadn't been messed with. Whistler then told Cordelia, "I know it's small recompense, doll – but from now on the visions and the demon powers are yours and yours alone, and you're not tied to any particular Champion or 'mission' any longer. It's your life; and it's up to you to live it as you see fit."
Then he wished everyone all the best, made some cryptic comment about the First along the lines of "Don't believe everything you hear," and then pulled one of his annoying disappearing acts; vanishing into thin air.
Angel couldn't help it; he stormed off, straight out the front door.
"Gee. Is it just me, or is that guy being a bit of a drama queen about all this?" he heard Xander ask facetiously, as he stopped outside the threshold.
Angel then heard Cordelia reply, "It's not just you, Dork. And what the hell was I thinking, working with him for the past three years?"
"So, what now?" Connor asked, his voice low and thick with disappointment.
"Personally, I have no clue," Angel heard Harris reply. "Clueless, am I."
A while later – outside 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale; early evening:
Wesley looked at her and said, "So, that's it; I'm off back to Los Angeles. I do have a life there to get back to, after all."
"Will we be hearing from you again soon?" Buffy asked, trying to reconcile this new, stubbly and capable version of Wesley Wyndam-Pryce with the bumbling incompetent she'd been saddled with thanks to the Council, all those years ago.
"Oh, I'd imagine so. There are quite a few Potentials in this country, and it's a race to find them all before the First Evil and its Bringers do so. Thus, most likely I'll be bringing you quite a few girls in the weeks to come, to keep Miss Greene company. Just like Mr. Giles and the rest of the Council."
"Yeah. Oh, I almost forgot! Before you go – could you come with me over to the new high school? There's something I'd like your professional opinion on – something Jonathan and Andrew dug up the other night. It's called the, uh, seal of Dance-bizarre?" Buffy tried but failed to remember the name Jonathan had mentioned to her.
"The seal of what?"
Instantly, Buffy looked annoyed. "Well, excuse me if I can't pronounce it properly! It's some typically stupid, incomprehensible, demon-related name. Uh, like danze-tar? Dan – "
"Miss Summers. Are you talking about a seal of Danzalthar?" Wesley now looked very concerned.
"Yeah, that's it! Dan-whatever. What?" Buffy asked him, suddenly looking worried herself.
"You need to show me. Immediately. Has blood been shed upon it, after it was dug up?" Wes asked quickly.
"Uh, no. I mean, Andrew tried to stab Jonathan with a knife while they were standing on top of it, but Cordy had a vision about the murder – and she and Xander got there just in time to stop it. Why do you ask?"
"Because had it been activated by that sort of ritual sacrifice, it might very well have meant the end of this world as we know it. Let's go!" Wes ordered his former Slayer.
The same time – Sunnydale Bus Depot, Sunnydale; early evening:
Groo and Faith disembarked off the Greyhound bus, having been greatly delayed – but now having finally arrived at their destination. The Pylean Champion looked around and said, "Slayer Faith, this place is truly cursed – I can sense it. Never before have I ever felt such evil; not even within the Scum Pits of Ur."
Faith shrugged; it had been a long day since breakfast within that diner, and they had talked a lot to pass the time while waiting for the opportunity to grab Groo's sword from where it had been hidden. Thus, she knew all about Pylea, and everything the beefcake had done while acting as the chief enforcer of the Convent of Trombones, or whatever the hell those demons had called themselves. "Yeah. And I could say that it gets better, that eventually you get used to it – but unfortunately, I'd be a liar if I did."
Groo nodded. "How do you suggest we proceed?"
"Hike it over to B's place first, I guess," Faith frowned. "Hopefully, you'll be able to find Queen C there. If not, we'll head on over to my old boy-toy's apartment, and ask Xander where you can find her. And sheesh, is he gonna be surprised when I show my face at his front door!"
They were still walking as Faith said that, and heading towards the street; when a young man came out of the depot building and saw them. Just as they saw him.
"Oz?" she said, looking stunned.
"Faith," the werewolf replied with perfect equanimity. "Who's your friend?"
"You may call me Groo," he introduced himself politely
"About time you all got here," Amy Madison said, showing up out of nowhere – and then staring at the Slayer intently. "And Faith, nice to finally meet you."
"And you are?" the warrior woman demanded.
"Name's Amy Madison," the witch introduced herself.
{ Fascinating. I suspect that the various poles of Destiny have finally come together, now that we have all met in this accursed place, } Groo thought to himself curiously, looking around at all his companions. { Especially for myself, in terms of the new destiny that was promised to me... }
... the end.
Just kidding. :)
Actually, the truth is that this story is almost done - just a few more chapters to go; wrapping up the various plot points in this fic, and setting things up for the sequel (if and when it's written). It's been fun sharing our ideas and plot developments with you over the past couple of months, and as always, we thank you for reading and reviewing the fanfic! We do get your feedback, even if the site is acting up again and hasn't been publishing reviews lately. Having said that, garfan, thank you for your review; and Guest, your review of "how the hell do you write someone like that and claim to like them?" was more than a bit unclear; if you want to PM us and explain what you meant in more detail, I promise we'll do our best to address your concerns. Seriously, everyone - please don't be shy in telling us what you thought of the latest chapter!
