Epilogue I
Thursday, November 14, 2002 – Wolfram & Hart Los Angeles branch, Los Angeles; evening:
Lilah was worried, even though she did her best not to show it. After that disaster in Stockton, she'd known she was skating on thin ice, but this –
"The White Room," Gavin Park said, as they walked towards the elevator. "I was here two years before I even heard about that place. And now they want to us to go there? I honestly can't help wondering what we'll find."
"Answers," Lilah replied shortly.
"Hrmm, yes, but what sort of answers? I knew a guy in Litigation, he was sent to the White Room; and nowadays, he's in an asylum," Gavin remarked casually.
"Too bad for him," Lilah riposted, determined not to let her minion psych her out on this. They arrived at the elevator, and Gavin pushed the button for them to go up. A polite bell sounded, before the elevator doors opened and they went inside.
Lilah ignored Gavin as the male attorney stood silently beside her. She punched the floor buttons in a specific order, 18-23-20-28-27; and a new, bigger button subsequently appeared above all the others. Without hesitation, Lilah pressed it; and the elevator dissolved into a blinding white light. When the brightness dimmed, Gavin and Lilah found themselves in a massive, empty, white chamber.
"Hello," a brown-haired little girl sitting primly in a white chair said. Or what looked to be a little girl, anyway. She was wearing a knee-length red dress with a white lace collar, white stockings plus black Mary-Janes, and yet – Lilah could feel the ancient dark power wafting off of her. It. Whatever. "Welcome to the White Room."
"Thank you for having us," Gavin said obsequiously.
"Yes, what he said. We received your summons, now – how can I help you?" Lilah asked straightforwardly.
"You, help me?" the little girl asked with a short giggle. "That's very amusing; because I'm your Conduit to the Senior Partners. By the way, your fingernails are pretty. I love red."
"I'm glad you approve. It's Big Apple Red, OPI classic nail lacquer version," Lilah replied without hesitation.
"The Senior Partners aren't happy with you," the little girl went on, ignoring that comment. "But then, they're always unhappy about something. Ever since the time of the Old Ones, when the pure demons walked the Earth – and the Powers That Be banished the Wolf, Ram and Hart from your reality."
"Of course. Now, I'm assuming my ledger isn't red enough for my immediate termination, or we wouldn't be having this conversation," Lilah replied, somehow managing to keep her voice steady. "So. What can I do to make up for what's happened lately?"
The little girl glanced over at Gavin. "Kill him."
Gavin backed away in horror, as Lilah brought a Ruger P95 out of her handbag, and aimed it at him. "No, wait, please-!"
BANG!
"Is there anything else?" Lilah asked politely, putting the pistol back in her purse and ignoring the now-bleeding body which had collapsed to the white floor, quickly staining it red.
"Yes, one or two things," the Conduit replied. "The Senior Partners want me to inform you of the situation on the California Hellmouth – the seers say that in about six months, it's possible you'll need to send your old friend Angel there with one of Wolfram & Hart's baubles to ensure the First Evil doesn't destroy the mortal realm completely. Then again, it's equally possible you won't have to do that; depending on what the Slayers and their Watchers get up to in the meantime."
"Understood. What else?" Lilah made a mental note to keep her calendar relatively clear during May, just in case.
The little girl smiled. "Oh, you'll find out. And personally, I can't wait to see what happens after you inform your former lover that he's going to be a father... "
The White Room immediately exploded into dazzling white light all over again, and then Lilah found herself back in the elevator, alone – before the Conduit's words truly impacted upon her brain, and she almost fainted from shock.
A while later – Xander's apartment, Sunnydale; evening:
Cordelia managed to hang on to her self-control until she and Xander finally arrived home, and then she broke down and started weeping in his arms. She was in mourning over the four and a half years that she'd most likely never get back, and all of the memories which she'd now lost; maybe forever.
She said, in between sniffles, "Damn it, Dweeb, this isn't fair! I mean, yeah, most of what I've forgotten, odds are I'd probably say good riddance to it – but still, there's some stuff I'm sure I'd want to remember! Our first time together, if nothing else!"
"I know, sweetheart. I know," Xander murmured comfortingly into her ear. "But it's gonna be OK, somehow. Eventually. As long as we've got 'us', everything's gonna work out all right."
She sniffed, "You really are a complete dork."
"Your dork."
"And don't you forget it!"
"How could I possibly do that?" Harris waggled an eyebrow at her, which caused Cordy to smirk, wipe away the tears and calm down.
"Well, for your own good, you better not ever figure it out!" Cordelia smiled, before leaning forward and kissing him softly.
Xander leaned forward as well, almost melting into that long, slow, agonizingly gentle kiss. "I love you," he said, before he kissed her again. "I want you." And again. "I need you." And again. "And there ain't no way I'm ever gonna leave you."
A laugh huffed out of Cordelia's lips. "Pretty sure that isn't the way those lyrics go, Dumbass."
"Screw the lyrics."
"Rather screw you," the Seer said into his mouth, after kissing him.
"Is that an actual offer?" Xander asked after pulling back a little, eyebrows rising. "I mean, we sorta discussed going all the way soon during lunch today, but – "
"Shut up, Idiot Boy," Cordy interrupted, before briefly kissing him again. "'Cause I'm in serious need of boyfriend comfort right now. In your bedroom – well, ours from now on!"
It was a good thing that Phantom Dennis was able to muffle the screams of passion that soon erupted from the master bedroom – or else, that would have been the final straw as far as the neighbors were concerned, in terms of complaining to the landlord about the nutcase living in Apartment 2D.
A while later – kitchen of 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale; night:
Connor looked thoughtful, as he munched on the sandwich Dawn had made for him. "This tastes nice, thank you."
"You're welcome," the female teen shrugged.
Staring at her briefly, Connor wasn't entirely sure why she'd offered him a free meal; but he figured that Dawn had probably seen the look on his face after Cordelia had left the house with that Xander person – and 'heartbroken' didn't even begin to come close to expressing what he'd felt at that moment.
Even having heard the reasons why, Connor still couldn't quite believe how the woman he loved had refused to drink that elixir, not even needing a moment to think about it. Likewise, he couldn't really understand why Cordelia had acted so angry towards him –
"So. You and Cordelia, huh?" Dawn asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?" Connor asked, instantly feeling defensive.
"Oh, please! The way you were staring at her earlier tonight? Doesn't take a genius to figure out you majorly have the hots for her," Dawn said cynically. "Hey, I oughta know – I used to have that exact same expression on my face, every time I looked at Xander!"
"Yes, but does it matter? I mean, Cordelia – she's made her choice... and she didn't choose me. Thanks to my mistakes back in Los Angeles, she hates me now," he said broodily.
"Meh. I dunno if I'd go so far as saying that she, like, hates you," Dawn shrugged. "I mean, way I see it? Cordelia doesn't like you, and she doesn't trust you, but actual hate? Pretty sure that's reserved for my big sister, instead of you. Seeing as how she punched Xander unconscious last night, and he's Cordy's boyfriend now."
Connor looked up, interested. "That Buffy person was the one who caused that man's injuries?"
"Yeah," Dawn exhaled loudly. "Caused me quite a few issues, actually. I mean, Buffy's my sister – but Xander's family, too. Nowadays, he's like the big brother I never had, ya know?"
"No," Connor shook his head straightaway. "Because I don't have any siblings. I'm unique. The so-called Miracle Child," he said with a small sneer. "And you heard that demon calling himself Whistler; apart from Holtz, I grew up alone in Quor-toth."
"Right," Dawn said musingly.
"Aren't you going to ask me what Quor-toth was like? Just about everyone does at this point," Connor asked in mild surprise.
"Nah," Dawn shook her head. "I figure if you'd wanted to tell me, you would have done it without my asking. Besides, I know what it's like to be on the receiving end of that sort of thing – every time the Key stuff comes up."
"Key stuff?"
"Yep. You might be surprised to know that my crazy childhood kinda rivals yours, in the sense that I didn't actually have one," Dawn snorted. "I'm barely a little over two years old, technically speaking. Before that, I was a big blob of green energy somewhere in Eastern Europe called the Key."
"Huh?" Connor honestly didn't get that.
Dawn quickly told him the story about the monks of the Order of Dagon, the living energy they had guarded with their lives, the hellgod named Glory, and the reality alteration spell those holy men had pulled off to transform the Key into her; Dawn Summers. "And you wanna know the funny part? Cordelia doesn't remember me from before she left Sunnydale. At least, she doesn't anymore; I'm not sure about the whole pre-amnesia part of her life, but whatever. She's living proof, now, that I didn't exist as a human back then. That my life, the life I remember having before that spell – it's nothing but a lie."
"I know all about lies," Connor nodded. "The man I called 'Father' all my life, Holtz – he lied to me. So did that woman named Justine. And in a sense, Angel lied to me as well about my mother – apparently, he had quite the relationship with your sister a few years back?"
"Oh, yeah, the classic Buffy and Angel saga. You got a few hours for me to tell you all the sordid details?" Dawn smirked mischievously.
"I'd rather hear more about you," Connor said frankly, causing Dawn to blush.
"OK, you wanna trade embarrassing stories? Well, lemme tell you what happened to me during Buffy's birthday last year." She proceeded to do so, before saying, "And then, finally the curse was lifted – after about forty freaking hours! And everyone pretty much ran out of the house, desperate for some fresh air. Well, apart from me and Buffy!"
"Sounds like fun. Doesn't compare to the way I sent Angel to the bottom of the ocean in a sealed coffin, though," Connor smiled at his female companion.
"Do tell," Dawn replied, her eyes wide. "Seriously. I wanna hear details!"
"Connor?"
Both he and Dawn turned and saw a pale and unhealthy-looking version of Angel standing at the doorway to the kitchen. The va – his father was clutching his semi-healed stomach, before he let the hand doing so fall to his side; Connor figured Angel was trying not to appear weak in front of Dawn. Or possibly himself. "Yeah?"
"I was just wondering if you're ready to go? Back to L.A., I mean."
"You're leaving? Without Cordelia?" Connor asked in amazement.
"Son – I can't force her to come home with us, if she doesn't want to," Angel replied, a haunted look appearing on his face. "All I can do at this point is hope that Cordy comes to her senses as soon as possible, especially where Xander's concerned – "
"Hey! Angel, don't you dare talk about him like that!" Dawn interrupted angrily, glaring at his father. "I mean, Xander pretty much saved Cordelia's life last night! Not to mention earlier this week as well, from those two vampires at the Bronze! And what did you do? I heard you admit it, mister – you let the visions slowly kill Cordelia's brain after she became your Seer, without doing a darn thing to get rid of them, until she had no other choice but to become part-demon! Well, if she wanted to live, anyway!"
"That's different," Angel replied defensively, looking away. "I mean, we didn't know what the visions were doing to her; Cordy kept it a secret from all of us. Until it was almost too late, and then that Skip person – "
"Demonized her, yeah, I heard," Dawn interrupted in annoyance. "Still, what if he hadn't? What would you have done, if there hadn't been any last-minute save by that guy? You'd have just called the local funeral parlor, and then waited for the Powers to send you a new Seer?"
"No, of course not! Dawn, I would have done – something! I dunno what, but I would have done whatever was necessary to save Cordelia's life! She means far too much to me not to have done so," Angel defended himself, before his shoulders slumped. "But I guess none of that matters now. So, Connor – are you ready to go?"
"Actually? I think I'll stick around here, for now," Connor replied, walking over to his father. "You go ahead without me, I'll be fine."
"What? But, but that's – I mean, you – where, where are you even gonna stay around here-?" Angel spluttered, before realization appeared in his eyes. "Look, son, if you're planning to steal Cordelia from Xander against her will, kidnap her or something – "
"Oh, that's ridiculous!" Dawn interrupted derisively. Then she frowned, looking over at him. "Right?"
"Right," Connor said, briefly looking annoyed. Then he said to his father, "And you can relax – I'm not that stupid." He couldn't prevent the bitterness and disappointment from appearing in his voice as he added, "I know that if I try anything like that, Cordelia might actually kill me. Like she killed that vampire, Spoke – or whatever its name was."
"Spike," Dawn and Angel said at the same time, before briefly looking at one another.
"Spike, right. But the point is, I don't feel comfortable leaving Cordelia here all by herself – and I'm sure you don't either, Dad," he said in his most reasonable voice. "Besides. Didn't you tell me that Kate suggested I stay away from Los Angeles, for at least the next six months? Preferably even longer? And isn't Sunnydale as good a place as any to do that?"
"With all the vamps and evil demons we have around here?" Dawn interjected in astonishment. "I'm thinking, not!"
Connor shot her an annoyed look, before focusing back on Angel. "Look, you're always asking me to trust you. And if you want me to do that, then you need to trust me. Seriously, Dad – I survived Quor-toth, so I can survive here! Plus I still have your cell phone, remember?" He brought the device out of his jacket pocket. "It's not like you couldn't call me whenever you want to check that everything's OK, right?"
"Well, I dunno. Angel, have you actually learned how to use a cell phone since the old days?" Dawn asked innocently.
His father looked like he had to force himself not to glare at her. "Yeah, I have. Well, sort of –"
"OK, good. So, you can show me how to do that, right? Just to satisfy my curiosity," the female teen interrupted, smirking slightly.
"Dawn... " Angel trailed off, looking vexed.
"Yep. Connor's never gonna hear from you again," Dawn tried not to laugh, but didn't succeed very well.
His father then said, "No, never mind. Look, son, the thing is – I worry about you. All the time. I'm sorry, but I just can't help it! Because you're the most important thing in the entire world to me," Angel said without hesitation. "I know you're of an age now that you want your independence, but – you don't understand just how hard it is for me to let go that way. Especially considering how much of your childhood I missed out on."
Dawn turned away, looking embarrassed. "I'm, uh, I've got this thing to do – upstairs. Homework! Yeah, that's it. So, um, you two talk things out. And hey, Connor, if you decide to stay in this one-Starbucks hellhole? I'll see you later. Bye!"
Connor watched her leave, moving aside so that the girl could exit via the kitchen door. He never noticed how Angel watched him watch her depart, with a certain... something in his eyes.
{ Good grief, } his father thought to himself, { the boy can't possibly be thinking of getting into Dawn's pants, can he? Buffy would kill him the moment she found out! Well, unless someone else tried to kill him first... }
"So, where are Fred and Gunn and Lorne? And Wesley?" Connor asked, unaware of what Angel was thinking right now.
"Wes, uh, I think he went to the high school to check something out with Buffy; I'm not sure what," Angel shrugged. "He's got his own operation going nowadays; so, so I dunno know what his plans actually are. As for Fred and Gunn and Lorne, they're waiting outside; they've already said their goodbyes to everyone here."
"I see – wait, what was that?" Connor asked suspiciously. "You almost flinched when you said Lorne's name. Why?"
Angel looked aside. "He told me... Lorne mentioned that he'd managed to convince Cordelia to sing for him again, after I left. And, uh, he refused to tell me anything about what he saw, saying that Cordy didn't want him to blab what he'd learned to me – but that look of relief on Lorne's face? Pretty much told me all I needed to know, son. Namely, whatever Cordy's destiny is now... it doesn't include me – or all the bad stuff he foresaw coming, the last time she sang for him. And I figured out how Lorne only let me know that much so that I didn't try anything stupid, damn it. Anyway, getting back on topic – are you sure you want to stay here on the Hellmouth?"
"Positive," Connor replied without hesitation. "I'll be fine. From what I've heard, there are plenty of vampires and evil demons to kill around here if I end up bored or whatever. Plus, this place is something new; it's different to Los Angeles. It'll be a good learning experience to stay here a while, if nothing else."
Angel hesitated, before finally giving in to the inevitable. "OK, son. In that case, here." His father leaned forward and pressed a wad of cash into Connor's right hand. "Take it. And please, don't argue; it'll give me a little peace of mind knowing that you won't be living on the streets, until you start earning your own money. All right?"
Connor brought the paper notes up to examine them carefully, before looking back at his father. He said slowly, "All right, fine. But this is just a loan – I will pay you back, eventually. The next time I see you, when you come to town."
"All right, if that's the way you want it. Good luck, son – and call me if you need anything!" Angel gave him a quick, impulsive hug.
"I will," Connor replied, mildly astonished as he realized just how true that statement was. "G'bye, Dad."
"So long for now, son."
A short while later – alley near the Sunnydale Promenade, Sunnydale; night:
Buffy slowly walked to where Xander and Cordelia had said that Spike had been killed. No, make that murdered –
OK, fine, so maybe that term didn't really apply – not if it truly had been self-defense under those circumstances. Which, deep down, she pretty much knew it was; otherwise, Xander's words last night wouldn't have stung so much. Especially after Willow had confessed how he'd been financially supporting everyone living at 1630 Revello Drive for ages...
Still, bottom line, Spike was gone now; and the worst part was that it felt like she was the only one who was mourning his loss.
Unbidden, roughly six years' worth of memories of her undead lover quickly flowed through Buffy's mind –
{ The truth is, I like this world. You've got... dog racing, Manchester United, and you've got people. Billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs. It's all right here. }
{ Love isn't brains, children, it's blood. Blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it. }
{ They're strong, and I can't fight. If they get in, I don't know if I can protect you. }
{ I know you'll never love me. I know that I'm a monster, but you treat me like a man, and that's... get your stuff, I'll be here. }
{ We kissed, you and me. All Gone With The Wind. With the rising music, and the rising... music. And what was that, Buffy? }
{ Why does a man do what he mustn't? For her. To be hers. To be the kind of man who would nev – to be a kind of man. And she shall look on him with forgiveness... and everybody will forgive and love. And he will be loved. So everything's OK, right? C-can we rest now? Buffy? Can we rest? }
"Yeah, Spike. We can rest now. You rest in peace," Buffy said gently, and placed a bouquet of flowers on the ground. "I, I know what we had together was never entirely – normal, and there was almost as much bad as there was good, but in the end – yeah. I know you loved me. And I guess I loved you as well, at least a little; otherwise, this wouldn't hurt so damn much. Goodbye, Spike, at least for now. 'Cause I'm sure we'll meet again someday, somehow." So saying, she turned around and quickly exited the alley.
She never heard the First Evil, using Spike's face and form, sneer at her and say, "Shows what you know, Slayer. Didn't I tell ya that you'll never see yer loved ones again, come the day? Ah, bugger this; I've got more important things to do! Like getting me Bringers to grab that idjit Andrew, in order ta open up that bloody seal... "
Friday, November 15, 2002 – outside the Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles; not long after midnight:
Angel wasn't in the best of moods, as his Plymouth convertible came to a halt in the carport and Gunn's truck parked not far away. He did his best to ignore Lorne, who was talking into his cell phone about some sort of nightclub performance on Saturday night, before the anagogic demon walked off into the garden for some privacy. Angel's mind was too full of the two people he'd left behind in Sunnydale to be concerned about that right now.
{ It's not right. This isn't the way things should be, and screw Whistler and his pronouncements from the Powers, } Angel thought to himself gloomily, and with more than a tiny bit of frustration. { I swear, the worst part is knowing that there's absolutely nothing I can do about the situation with Connor or Cordelia – if I try, it'll just make things worse! Damn it... }
Angel's eyes then slid over to Fred and Gunn, who looked like they were in the middle of an argument. Without warning, Fred slapped the black man in the face, and then stomped away to her car. The souled vampire watched her get in, start the ignition and then drive off down Hyperion Avenue.
"Hey. What happened?" Angel asked Gunn, as the human joined him with a dejected look on his face.
"Uh, Fred 'n me are now officially broken up. Guessin' you saw what just happened between us," Gunn said miserably.
"Yeah. Sorry," Angel said sympathetically. "Believe it or not, right now? I can relate."
"Yeah," Gunn mused, looking down at the ground, before lifting his head up again. "We are talkin' you and Barbie, right?"
"Yeah," Angel replied, looking aside. "Guess that old saying's true – you don't know what you've got 'til you lose it."
"Shit. How the hell did we get here?" Gunn briefly threw his arms up in dismay. "I mean – time was, we were a family! But now look at us: English is gone, and Cordy's hit the road, too. Even your kid ain't around no more. Fred and I are splitsville, so who the hell knows? Maybe she'll be next to just up and leave!"
"I – don't think so," Angel replied uncertainly. "I mean, did she say anything about that just now, before she drove off? And where'd Fred go, anyway?"
"I dunno. Prob'ly her favorite diner, it's open all night," Gunn shrugged. "And no, she didn't say nothing 'bout quitting 'fore she left. But the way our luck has been goin' lately? Wouldn't want to put money on Fred stickin' around!"
"Huh. C'mon, Gunn. I've got some Irish whiskey in my office, I think we could both do with a drink," Angel offered tiredly.
"Yeah. Why not? Got nothin' else to do right now," Gunn muttered, following him toward the hotel.
Angel heard the sound of female weeping within the lobby, the closer he and Gunn came to the front doors of the hotel. The sounds were familiar, too; more than familiar, even...
"What the hell?!" Gunn exploded after he followed Angel into the building, instinctively whipping out a stake after seeing the crying vampiress in the lobby. "What's she doin' here?!"
"Good question," Angel said evenly, not making any move to attack – but not stopping Gunn from waving the wooden stake threateningly, either. "Why are you here, Dru?"
"They made me come," Drusilla told him, wiping away the liquid from her cheeks. "The voices. Miss Edith. The stars. The moon. They all told me I had to be 'ere. That the Angel-beast would need me."
"What the frack you talkin' about, nutcase?" Gunn demanded roughly, obviously still waiting for the demented vampiress to attack.
"They put the spark in me. It burns," Dru told him, her head weaving back and forth. "It burns ever so brightly, it does. Just like it did with my poor Willy. Just like it does with my bad Daddy."
Gunn's eyes went wide. "You're shitting me. Right? You, you got your soul back?"
"Yes. It's there, I can smell it," Angel said shortly, never talking his eyes off the crazed female vampire. "Who did this to you, Dru?"
"Why ask the question, when you already know the answer?" the undead Seer started to sway unsteadily on her feet. "Them, not-Daddy. T-h-e-m. The nasty man in the hat and his pet witch, I don't like them... "
"You mean Whistler-? Oh, wait, now I get it. You're my new Seer, aren't you?" Angel asked her, after managing to join all the dots together.
"Holy shit!" Gunn took a step back, instantly looking horrified. "HER? This loony is our new Vision Girl, who's s'posed to be takin' Barbie's place? This is grade-A nuts!"
"Is it?" Angel asked rhetorically, briefly glancing at the former gang leader – before staring back at the worst crime Angelus had ever committed. To the undead Champion's mind, the choice of Drusilla as his new Seer made a horrible sort of sense, at least the way Whistler and his bosses would see it.
Despite the presence of her soul, it was obvious Dru wasn't mentally healed; which gave him a reason to take care of her, and at the same time – make certain that he wasn't tempted to fall in love with her, and risk having another moment of perfect happiness. Deep down, Angel figured all this was part of his redemption – namely, finding a way to heal Dru and bring her back to sanity. And, probably, drive himself crazy by having to try to decipher her visions...
"I want to go to Saint Bridget's," Drusilla abruptly pronounced, staring at him.
"Where?" Gunn blinked, still not relaxing in the slightest in Dru's presence.
"Saint Bridget's. It's a convent in Fremont, built on native burial grounds. The land's cursed; they had eight murders in two years there, before the whole place burned to the ground – which is nothing compared to what happened at Our Lady of Lochenbee... " Angel trailed off, seeing Gunn's look. "I, uh, used to have a thing for convents. Anyway, the state dug a water tank there. We visited the place a couple of years ago; you remember, that battle with that thrall demon?"
"Yeah, vaguely," Gunn shrugged. "Huh. What was it called again? Road fog?"
"Turfog," Angel corrected him, before focusing back on Drusilla. "Look, Dru – "
"Saint Bridget's. Holy orders. Touch not the impure thing, or thou shalt perish! Find salvation in the cross of our Lord and savior," Drusilla babbled crazily, her eyes darting back and forth throughout the lobby.
"Uh, Drusilla? You're still a vampire, soul or otherwise. I mean, you can't join a convent and become a nun. It's just not possible," Angel told her, delicately.
"Oh, pooh," Drusilla said in reply, changing gears so abruptly it almost gave him whiplash. "Then I want the blood of a virgin!"
"Sorry, Dru – but that's not an option, either," Angel shook his head. Glancing at Gunn, he said to his friend, "We're gonna have to start weaning her off human blood, and the sooner the better. Can you get me some pig's blood from the fridge in my office?"
Gunn shrugged and silently obliged. Angel tried to talk to Drusilla in the intervening time, but she childishly ignored him – almost like a little girl whose daddy had refused permission to eat her favorite sweet. Eventually, Charles arrived back after warming the blood up in the microwave, and he handed the red fluid to Angel. "Here ya go, man. Nuked fresh 'n all."
"Thanks." He then gave the mug of blood to Drusilla. "Go on, Dru, drink up."
The crazy female vamp took a sip, and then spat it out at once in disgust. She then threw the rest of the blood directly into Angel's face, snarling, "Bad Angel-beast! Tastes like worms in my baguette, it does!"
Angel made no attempt to wipe the blood of swine off his face; he knew Gunn was already off to get him a wet towel from the kitchen in order to do that. He just stared at Drusilla, with one pessimistic thought in his mind:
{ Said it before and I'll say it again, atonement's a bitch... }
Roughly eighteen hours later – the Bronze, Sunnydale; night:
As Kennedy sat within her booth and listened to Aimee Mann and her bandmates play This Is How It Goes on stage, she couldn't help wondering how on earth her life had changed so drastically, and in such a short time.
Roughly forty-eight hours ago, she had been a normal nineteen-year-old girl – well, Potential Slayer, and incredibly rich, but whatever – and she had been quite content with a great personal tutor and a number of college friends. But now? She was living on the other side of the country, with a target painted on her back, and fallen in amongst people whose lives were pure insanity!
She glanced around and saw quite a few of her new acquaintances within the teen club. Most of them were keeping an eye on that Cordelia Chase person, who was dancing with her boyfriend – that Xander Harris guy. Not surprising, really, after the Summers house had been invaded by those Bringer creeps, and that Andrew Wells guy had been killed –
{ There is no way I'm staying there any longer, not even temporarily, } Kennedy swore to herself. { If Daddy doesn't send me the money for a place of my own, then I'll get a hotel room or something, and ask Mr. Wyndam-Pryce to ward it against vampires – }
"Hey. Mind if I join you?"
Kennedy blinked, as a beautiful black woman casually slid into the booth without waiting for an invitation. "And you are?"
"Name's Aura. Aura White," the woman introduced herself with an inviting smile. She looked almost the same age as Kennedy herself – maybe two or three years older – and she looked especially edible, with the hip-hugging clubbing outfit she wore. "Haven't seen you around here before. What's your name?"
"Kennedy Greene. I'm new in town," she introduced herself politely. They began to talk, and after hearing that Aura used to be that Cordelia person's best friend, Kennedy relaxed enough to enjoy the unexpected companionship for the evening. It turned out that Aura knew a lot about what really happened in Sunnydale, after the sun went down –
And unless her gay-dar was completely off, Kennedy was pretty sure that Aura was into girls just as much as she was.
That was why Kennedy didn't object when Aura eventually suggested for them to go upstairs to 'find somewhere a bit more private.' Her new acquaintance seemed in something of a hurry, too, so Kennedy followed her up the stairs to a secluded spot along the catwalk with a smile on her face. But then –
{ OH MY GOD! } Kennedy mentally shrieked, as Aura's face morphed into that of a monster. The forehead ridges, the yellow eyes, the fangs! { She's a vampire! }
Before she could run for it, though, Aura froze. Kennedy noticed, but she didn't care – her entire instinct was get the hell out of here immediately –
"Oh, don't leave yet," a brunette wearing slightly unfashionable clothes said to her, after appearing out of the shadows. Kennedy didn't move as the woman added, "This particular party isn't over, after all."
"Amy Madison," the vampiress growled at the new arrival, obviously recognizing her. "What are you doing here, you fat-ass loser?"
"Insults from when we were in high school, Aura? When you're the one trapped and helpless, here?" the Madison woman replied, shaking her head. "You should have taken your own advice to Cordelia more carefully, Aura. Letting Harmony of all vampires get the jump on you, that's just pathetic – and it's obviously made you lose quite a few IQ points as well!"
The black woman growled like an animal, which almost made Kennedy run off again. Seeing this, Amy reached into her handbag and pulled out a stake, before placing it in her right hand. "Kennedy, right? Stake her."
"What?!" both Kennedy and Aura demanded at the same time.
Amy shrugged. "I'm not really in the mood to set Aura on fire, and dust her that way. Already had enough of that sort of thing, lately. Besides, Kennedy, you need to practice for if you're Called after the current Slayer dies. Just relax and aim for the heart, she can't harm you – "
"You can't do this!" Aura hissed furiously, her demonic-looking face nonetheless betraying her fear.
Kennedy abruptly lifted her arm and plunged the stake into Aura's chest, watching as a skeleton appeared for a moment; before there was a whistling, screeching sound – and then dust exploded everywhere. "Eww, gross!" she spluttered, trying to get the stuff off of her clothes.
"Welcome to the wonderful world of vampire Slayage," Amy replied in amusement.
"Why – " Kennedy paused, coughing for a moment. "Why did you help me? Save my life like this? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm really grateful and all, but I – "
"Because according to Whistler, you have a role to play in the grand scheme of things," Amy interrupted. She then pointed down to the lower level of the Bronze before adding, "In fact, if it wasn't for my semi-idiotic, would-have-been husband down there, who's currently dancing with Cordelia? You'd have become the Slayer a long time ago."
"What?!"
"Never mind, it's too complicated to explain right now. Just trust me when I say there's a reason why that Wesley Wyndam-Pryce guy was in New York to save your life, and then bring you here," Amy sighed. "Anyway, make sure you don't forget this little lesson about the dangers of talking to strangers in this town – 'cause the next time, I might not be there to save you!"
"OK. Fine. Say, do you wanna join me downstairs for a drink? Maybe some dancing?" Kennedy asked eagerly.
Amy glanced at her in amusement. "Sorry, but I don't swing that way. And even if I did, I'd probably go for Faith's type rather than yours." Without another word, the witch – or whatever she was – simply faded into the shadows of the club's upper level.
{ Oh yeah. She likes me, I can tell! } Kennedy thought to herself with a smile, as she made her way downstairs. { Too bad I don't have a phone number, but that's a problem I'm sure can be solved with time... }
To Be Concluded…
A/N: Wow, this story has passed the 200 review mark! Thank ye kindly to everyone who contributed to that. Now, we hope you liked the Lilah Morgan surprise, and that it wasn't too obvious from the clues earlier in the story. And yes, we know that Phantom Dennis got shamefully slighted in this fic - but the way things worked out, there simply wasn't all that much for him to do! Our bad, to be sure. And as for Connor, what do you all think - was that boy choosing to stay behind in Sunnydale something totally OOC for him? We didn't think so, due to his circumstances after everything that's happened in this fanfic, but we'd like to hear your opinion on that - as well as your opinions on what's happened with Xander, Cordelia, Buffy, Angel and Kennedy. The second last paragraph of the chapter is a tribute to Alkeni, by the way, who is the most vocal Faith/Amy 'shipper we know! Anyway, there's just one last segment to come to tie everything up and finish it off (hopefully). So thanks for reading, and please give us your feedback!
