See Part One for Disclaimer and details. Howdy all, and welcome to the latest chapter! Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed the story so far, I couldn't have made it here to this point without you. The thing is, though - the end of this story is drawing near, there's just a few more chapters to go. Sorry, but for those people who asked about the season 2 episodes beyond February 1998, I'm not going to be going there. I'll be building up to the big finale from everything that's come to pass so far, and I hope you'll enjoy the ride...
Part Fifteen: On The Eve Of Destruction
High above Crawford Street, Sunnydale
February 19th, 1998
The people in the helicopter watched as a car burst out of the mansion's garage and tore off down the street. Ford was making a break for it and heading back to LA, having come to the conclusion that it was too dangerous for him to remain in Sunnydale any longer; mostly because Darla was no longer someone it was safe for him to be around.
In a perfect world, of course, Ford would have been dusted by Xander or Buffy or somebody else by this point. But then, it wasn't a perfect world by any means; sometimes the bad guys get away with their crimes, despite all the efforts of the good guys to stop them.
To borrow a phrase, shit happens.
In any case, it had been three nights since the Valentine's Day fiasco, and the white hats had learned where Darla's new lair was based. After shaking off the effects of both Willow's spell and the enchanted jacket, Buffy had followed a cursing Darla home and subsequently told Giles where the nest was located.
And since there was no need to fear retribution upon his Slayer for inadvertently unleashing a soulless monster, Giles had contacted his superiors to send a wet works team for an all-out assault – to slaughter Darla and her minions once and for all.
Giles stared at the fleeing car below, before looking back at Buffy. "Do you think that may have been Darla?" he shouted over the roar of the engine and the rotor blades.
"I dunno, but I doubt it!" Buffy yelled back. "She's not the type to cut and run like that!"
Giles nodded and spoke to the specialist team members; Smith, Collins and Weatherby. "We proceed with the mission!"
The trio of British men nodded, since they hadn't expected anything else. All three could tell that Giles was almost itching with eagerness to destroy the vampires below them. They didn't know that this was mostly because Giles had never recovered Jenny's body in order to give her and their unborn child a decent funeral – the gypsy woman's remains had, in fact, been thrown into an unmarked grave by Allan Finch's forces and quickly forgotten – but Smith, Collins and Weatherby could sense that this was personal for Rupert.
"We're in position!" the pilot called out from the cockpit.
"Buffy, are you ready?" Giles shouted to his charge.
The Slayer checked her harness, and the load of gear she was carrying. "Yeah!"
Giles nodded to the wet works team members. "GO!"
Smith, Collins and Weatherby rappelled out of the stationary helicopter first, leaving Giles and Buffy to follow them afterwards. The Watcher had taught his Slayer the rudiments of what to do, but nonetheless, he kept a close eye on the Summers girl as they plunged down into the darkness of the night.
( HOLY CRAP! ) Buffy thought wildly, as she headed down towards the roof of the mansion at high speed. Like really good sex, the ride was a mix of fear, joy, anxiety and adrenaline, all the sensations mixed together so completely that it was impossible to separate one from the other. ( I have GOT to do this again sometime soon! )
Soon enough, the team landed on the roof, disconnected the ropes and let the Council chopper ascend to a safer height. The pilot knew his part of the mission was over, and so offered a quick prayer for the five souls who even now were making their way into the mansion to kill every vampire in it.
As has been said, Darla's lair had a good view of the immediate terrain in all directions; but the funny thing about vampires is that they rarely looked up, and this had been the only way to approach the nest without someone spotting the good guys coming from almost a mile away. Thus Smith, Collins, Weatherby, Giles and Buffy entered the lair from above and began to place explosives at key points.
Not long afterwards, several explosions took place and the Crawford Street mansion started burning down to the ground. The screams of the undead were barely even heard by the distant neighbors, who all switched off their lights and bolted the doors before the fire department showed up to prevent the blaze from spreading anywhere else.
Within the shadows, Rupert Giles stared at the burning wreck with only partial satisfaction. Almost all the vampires had been wiped out, either by the fire or the weapons of Team Slayer; but the true target – Darla – had somehow managed to escape once again.
City Hall, Sunnydale
Not long before midnight
Mayor Allan Finch was watching Anyanka carefully, as she started doing some sort of arcane ritual in his office.
Allan was holding the Orbs of Nezzla'khan in his hands, having removed them from the belt pouch which he used to carry them around these days. Ever since the moment Willow and Amy had done their spell, Finch had known that it wasn't safe for him to keep them within his chest anymore. He didn't know why the Orbs had hurt him as a consequence of the enlightenment spell which the two witches had cast, so better safe than sorry.
Anyanka had gotten very upset over what had happened, though. Even if the injury inflicted by that letter opener had healed without trace almost instantly, the mad woman had seen it as a bad omen of some sort. She was so concerned that, after consulting with Rack, Anyanka had come up with a scheme to make sure that the Orbs didn't ever do anything like that to her savior again.
"So, this Urn of Osiris – you really found it in Cairo?" Allan asked, examining the small clay vase.
"Oooh, this desert gnome? That ornery little critter said he could get a much better price from a Chaos demon. But yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum, I fixed his little red wagon!" Anyanka said feverishly, her eyes flicking back and forth. "Vino de madre..."
"What's that?"
"Fawn blood, plus a few extra ingredients. Oh, I'm glad it's not evil, insane rabbit blood I'm handling! Light the candles, Allan, QUICKLY!" the vengeance demon then commanded loudly. "It's almost midnight!"
Despite his misgivings, Allan obeyed her orders. Anyanka poured the vino de madre into the urn and began to chant in ancient Egyptian, / Osiris, keeper of the gate, master of all fate, hear my prayer. Before time, and after, your blessings were upon us. Sanctify these orbs now with your knowledge and wisdom! Grant them the power of healing, as well as invulnerability! /
The candle flames all shot up high, as a small earthquake started. "Dunk the Orbs into the Urn!" Anyanka commanded again.
"Is that really-" Allan started to say.
"NOW!" Anyanka morphed into her demon face. "HURRY!"
Grimacing, Allan stuck his hand into the Urn, submerging the Orbs within the sticky bloody liquid. A few moments, the quake ceased and Anyanka sighed in relief. "That's enough! You can take them out now!"
Allan gratefully withdrew the Orbs, and noted with some astonishment that there wasn't a trace of blood on them – the two small balls fused together were spotlessly clean, the only vino de madre visible was on his hand. "Strange..."
Then Allan did a double-take, looking around. "Who said that?"
"Who said what, now?" Anyanka replied in confusion.
Allan's eyes went wide as he stared at the Orbs. "The Orbs, they're...they're talking to me. All right, that's enough!" he said roughly, bringing the red glass balls up to eye level. "I don't know for sure what's going on yet, so be quiet for now!" Finch then stared at his subordinate, "Anya, what have you done?"
The so-called 'justice' demon opened her mouth to reply, but the next moment, Darla burst into the office. Allan was surprised to see her, but for some reason Anyanka wasn't – even though the evil undead shouldn't have known where to find her.
"We KNOCK before interrupting the aftermath of dark rituals!" Anyanka shouted out to the vampiress in annoyance.
"The hell with that," Darla growled, taking note of the Orbs Allan placed back in his belt pouch as she glared at the current Mayor of Sunnydale.
"Do I know you? And do you have an appointment?" Allan asked blandly, wondering what Darla wanted.
"Let's cut the crap, Mr. Mayor, we both know who the other is. And as for the second question, I don't need an appointment – I'm a constituent. One who's registering a complaint," Darla growled, her game face clearly visible.
Allan gestured with his red right hand, "Go on." He listened as Darla subsequently explained how her mansion had just been burned to the ground, leaving the vampire queen as the only survivor. "Well, it seems to me you've had a bit of bad luck lately..."
"Bad luck? Feeding on that damn fool gypsy girl a hundred years ago and getting cursed with a soul, that was bad luck. Losing my home and my minions, not to mention that damned love spell a few days ago – well, if it wasn't for those drugs you supply me with, I'd have slaughtered you by now for allowing that to happen!" Darla roared.
"Are you still lusting after that Xander Harris guy?" Anyanka asked abruptly. "I mean, if you are, don't you just wish..."
"Shut up. I don't need one of your vengeance wishes to kill that – that odious little toad, or that damned Slayer of his!" Darla snarled.
"Don't worry, Darla – and yes, I DO know who you are, and that you've been indirectly working for me for the last month or so," Finch said with a sincere-looking politician's smile. "I take care of my employees, and so I promise you that Mr. Harris and his friends will be dealt with soon."
Shadow Valley Vineyard, Sunnydale
February 21st, 1998
( This is SO not how I wanted to spend my Saturday night, ) Cordelia thought to herself, as she led Buffy along the deserted vineyard cellar. ( Goddamn stupid visions... )
"Are we there yet?" Buffy whispered, wondering yet again why she had followed Miss Chase here of all places. Ever since that day in the library with the raincoat, things had been even more strained than usual between these two, thanks to their feelings concerning Xander.
"Shhh!" Cordy hissed back, not wanting any security guards to hear them. She led Buffy to one of the rear corners of the basement, close to a bunch of wine barrels. "Here."
"There's nothing there!" Buffy whispered in annoyance.
"Underneath. There's a cave or something; you just have to punch a hole through the floor," Cordelia said as quietly as she could, struggling to contain her own annoyance.
"I want you to know, I'm taking a LOT on faith here!" Buffy replied with sheer exasperation. The Chosen One moved some of the wine barrels to act as a noise muffler, and then punched the floor as hard as she could. Half-expecting to hit nothing but solid earth, Buffy's fist disappeared down into the dark empty air as the wooden floor snapped under the force of her strike.
"QUIETLY!" Cordelia semi-growled at her companion.
Looking like she wanted to kill the brunette, Buffy nonetheless swallowed her angry reply and started to enlarge the hole. Soon, it was big enough for them to slide down through. "Rope. Flashlight," the Slayer whispered to Cordelia, who handed them over.
Buffy attached the rope – the same one she'd used to rappel down from that helicopter, which she'd kept as a souvenir – to the wine barrels and lowered herself down into the underground chamber. Cordelia quickly followed her. Miss Chase then took out a luminescent flare and activated it, bathing the chamber in a dim yellow light as both girls retired their flashlights.
Buffy's eyes were immediately drawn to the black rock in the middle of the chamber. There was a shiny weapon of some sort embedded into it; something with a wide, rounded blade on one end, and a pointy wooden pole at the other end. Buffy stared at it in awe, before she smiled. "Oh, me like..."
"What is that thing?" Cordelia asked, then her eyes went wide as Buffy easily King Arthur'ed the artifact out of the stone.
"It looks like a scythe," Buffy said slowly, feeling the weapon almost hum in her hands as she examined the wooden stake end of the thing.
"Looks more like an axe to me. Hey, what are you doing?" Cordelia demanded, as Buffy came up into her face.
"Cordelia, how did you know it was here? And don't try to give me some crappy cover story! This thing belongs to me – somehow I know it, I can FEEL it. And you knew it was here – well, all right, maybe not THIS exactly, but ya knew SOMETHING was here from the way you Pied Piper'd me straight to it. So start talking. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but – or else, you won't like the consequences," Buffy said warningly.
Cordelia exhaled. She'd known that it would most likely come to this after her vision last night, where the two of them – and no one else – broke into the vineyard and disappeared into this underground cave. So she confessed everything.
"You're a seer?" Buffy obviously couldn't believe it. "YOU get visions?"
"Yeah, I do. You got a problem with that?" Cordelia said challengingly.
"You're a Vision Girl?" Buffy didn't seem able to get past that concept very easily.
"YES! How many times do I have to say it, you bottle-blond idiot? These days, I'm just as much of a freak as you are," Cordy hissed angrily.
Buffy shook her head, ignoring the insult. "And Xander is the only one who knows, apart from me?"
"You even think of trying to spread it around the school, and I will destroy you," Cordelia promised her darkly, misreading Buffy's intentions.
"How? You're on the outs now with all your popular friends, in case you didn't notice," Buffy pointed out, enjoying herself a bit too much. "What was it they accused you of? Dabbling with the riff-raff?"
"Xander isn't riff-raff, and you damn well know it," Cordelia retorted, and with a mental shrug, Buffy gave her that one. "Newsflash, but he's so special that I dream about him almost every night. Our senior Prom, our engagement party, even our fifty-year wedding anniversary. I'm Cordelia Chase; when I make up my mind that I want something, I go after it and get it!"
"And you want Xander," Buffy couldn't help the small growl in her voice.
"Don't you?" Miss Chase demanded, which caused the Slayer to look away. "Y'know, Buffy, I always thought you were a lot of things, but I never thought 'poacher' was one of them – well, until now."
In an instant, Buffy was back in her old Hemery 'Queen B' persona. "Poacher? In case you didn't notice, I was the one who was there first – Xander and I grew up together, I was his first kiss when we were six-"
"And then a decade or so later, you and your friends humiliated the guy so badly that it took YEARS for Xander to ask someone out on a date again," Cordelia interrupted with a hooded look, conveniently overlooking everything related to Halloween. "Y'know, it's going to take a long time for that boy to completely get over what you and those bitches did to him in that school cafeteria – oh yeah, Xander told me about that – but I figure he's worth the wait for me. Is he worth the wait for you?"
Buffy was tempted to tell Cordelia 'hell, yes!', but a sound from the basement up above quickly silenced her. Hefting her new personal sidearm, Buffy led the way back to the rope and the two girls quickly climbed up, making a hasty exit from the depths of the vineyard.
1324 Deveraux Avenue, Sunnydale
Earlier that night
"Hello. Welcome! My, my, you ladies look lovely this evening," Rory said appreciatively. It was that time of the month, and so half a dozen whores were entering the Harris residence after Xander had made himself scarce.
One of the hookers, however, was not what she seemed.
"Hi, I'm new in Sunnydale. I'm not sure if this is the place I'm supposed to be?" Darla said, dressed as an inexpensive prostitute. Her outfit was even trashier than the one Cordelia had worn that night when the rocket launcher had been stolen, but it emphasized all the right portions of her anatomy, and it was no problem for Darla to now pretend to be what she had actually been as a mortal.
Rory whistled, admiring her beauty. "Little lady, where have you been all my life?"
"Here and there," Darla said, as the last of the other women entered the house. "Well, I'm not coming in unless you invite me."
Rory gestured with his arm, but refrained from issuing a formal invitation; he had lived in Sunnydale long enough to know that, even if his nephew hadn't warned him to never directly invite anyone into the house. That just made Darla mad, though.
"Oww!" the evil vampiress cried in fake distress, clutching her stomach and bending over as if in pain.
It was a stupid mistake, but Rory leaned forward beyond the threshold in concern. "Are you okay?"
Quick as a flash, Darla was in game face and had her hand wrapped around Rory's throat. "Invite me in. Or I'll kill you very slowly and painfully, right now!"
The female vampire then released the taxidermist's throat enough for him to say the words, and quickly slammed the door behind her as she dragged her soon-to-be victim inside.
Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale
A while later
Xander Harris was a very confused young man these days.
Giles's revelations about becoming the avatar for the element of Green Fire had been thoroughly shocking.
Make that utterly mind-blowing.
Never in his wildest dreams had Xander considered anything like that possible. He also hated the idea of becoming a cosmic destroyer like that. The young man understood the concept of 'acceptable losses' from his Halloween memories, but that was in combat during war time – and he didn't want to kill forty thousand civilians for some nebulous, as-yet-undefined threat.
Those shouted accusations of Soldier Guy being a mass murderer, amongst other, less pleasant things, had never been fully repressed in Xander's mind.
So, he had tried to seek out answers since Giles had told him the truth. Harris had returned to that holy location in the southern California desert he'd gone to when he'd been kidnapped by his car in LA, but there had been nothing there for him. He'd gone to a few other places as well, despite being distracted by Cordelia on occasion.
To be honest, Xander still wasn't sure what to do about that girl. She was tactless, vain and an incredibly self-centered princess; but Cordelia had chosen him when it had come down to a choice between Xander Harris and popularity, despite all the damage that had done to her social position. And while he was still kinda mad about that business concerning the magic jacket, Xander also had to admit that those feelings were now starting to fade.
Plus, there was no denying Cordelia was smart, beautiful, rich, and for some insane reason, genuinely interested in him.
( I wonder if she's had any visions of us ending up together that way? ) Xander asked himself as he walked through the graveyard, clutching his cross and stake firmly. ( 'Cause that's the only reason I can think of why a girl like her would be into a guy like me... )
Xander's thoughts were suddenly distracted by the sight of Jesse McNally's recent grave marker. His parents had finally given up after nearly a month of no news concerning their son, and started mourning his loss. Fortunately for their sanity, they didn't know how Jesse's ashes had been buried beneath the plaque in the grass by Willow, Buffy and Giles.
( So many dead people, ) Xander shook his head as he walked. ( Every single night, there are so many 'wild animal attacks' around here. Hell, maybe everyone would be better off if this whole stinking town got itself wiped off the map – oh, shit, no, don't go there! You KNOW where that's gonna lead, buddy boy! )
Finally, Xander made it to his destination for tonight; the graves for Tony and Jessica Harris. But just as he arrived there, a familiar male voice said, "I'm afraid you're wasting your time, kid. Your mom can't help you anymore; sad to say, but that door's been closed to you for good."
"Whistler-?" Xander spun around, recognizing the thick Queens accent. "Where have you been? Damn it, I've been looking everywhere for you!"
"I know, kid. I know. But I'm afraid you were wasting your time doing that, too. Sorry, but no one can help you avoid you-know-what."
"Why? Why me?" Xander demanded, knowing that Whistler was talking about him becoming an avatar for the element of Green Fire. "If you and your bosses want this hellhole destroyed, why do I have to be the one to do the dirty work?"
"Listen up, kid, 'cause I don't have much time to tell you what little I know," Whistler exhaled. "Now the PTBs wanted you back in Sunnydale to deal with the Judge, because as you mighta guessed by now – your original destiny was to be the Halloween soldier and retain the military knowledge, afterwards. I mean, if you HADN'T been here, no one would have come up with that idea concerning the rocket launcher, and Big Blue would have eventually killed every human being on the planet."
"That's why I was sent to Sunnydale?" Xander demanded, feeling no pleasure from having his suspicions confirmed.
"Yep. THAT is why the Powers messed with your life, why they sent me and the ghost mom to get you ready for the job – plus, killing that Halfrek broad to end the Wish curse you were under, ever since your third birthday," Whistler replied.
"Halfrek," Xander said, recalling that conversation with Jessica's ghost.
"Demon girl who cursed you, way back when. And she had a friend, one who's become a major player around here over the past two months. Okay, wait for it – three, two, one..." Whistler counted down slowly.
Right on cue, the Special Forces tattoo glowed green yet again. Xander then groaned in pain, clutching his head, "AGGH! Nuh, uggh, make it STOP!"
"Sorry, kid, no can do," Whistler apologized. "You know, it definitely wasn't supposed to be like this. I figure on this one, the Powers That Be really are making it up as they go along."
"WHAT?" Xander shouted, still hearing the name 'Anyanka' echoing in his brain.
"Thing is, you're no Slayer – no Champion of any sort. You're pretty much just a faceless blip on the Powers' radar. That's why they were expecting for you to die at the Sunnydale Mall that night. But since you managed to live thanks to that hottie's vision powers, which showed up thanks to that Halloween chaos magic – making it something the PTBs couldn't see coming – you were given another job. The Green Fire avatar."
"WHAT?" Xander shouted again, he couldn't hear the balance demon due to the terrible noise in his head.
Whistler yanked Xander's hands away from his ears. "Your uncle is about to get killed by my former protégé – Darla. Him and all those call girls who are trapped in your house."
Xander's eyes went wide, and despite the pain in his head he took off running.
1324 Deveraux Avenue, Sunnydale
Later that night
The pain and noise in his head had abated by the time Xander arrived home, mostly anyway. He quickly burst through the door – only to find the house littered with corpses.
Horrified, Xander checked the bodies – and at once, he noticed something odd. There were no vampire bite marks; instead there were either broken necks, like in the case of Rory Harris, or stab wounds to the heart in the cases of the five prostitutes. "What the hell-?"
"It took you long enough to get here!"
Xander looked up to see Darla standing there, smiling. He rose from the floor, growling in fury, "You fucking undead bitch..."
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot – she's dead. Just like all the rest of your family, apart from your father," Darla said merrily. "Sluggoth demon, wasn't it?"
"I'm gonna piss all over your ashes after you're dust, you goddamn ANIMAL! Just like I did with McNally's," Xander flung out the lie, advancing forward with his cross and stake.
Darla's smile remained unfazed, as big and bright as the new day. "Is that so? Well, I'm afraid there's something you've yet to realize, dear boy."
"What's that?"
"You're not the hunter here. You're the sacrificial goat," Darla said, appearing to relish every moment of her speech.
"What-"
"HELP! HELP! HE'S GONE CRAZY! HE'S KILLED EVERYONE!" Darla suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, certainly loud enough for the neighbors to hear.
"What the hell are you-" Xander started to say, not getting it.
"POLICE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" a loud male voice thundered out as two uniform policemen and the balding Sunnydale P.D. detective named Jack Stein burst into the house.
"No, I didn't-" Xander tried to explain, turning to face the cops who had shown up here just a little TOO conveniently.
The set-up became obvious when, with no further warning, Detective Stein opened fire. Xander's body became riddled with various bloody bullet holes, as he collapsed to the ground and the wooden stake rolled out of his hand.
Darla smiled, as she heard Xander's heartbeat disappear with her supernaturally acute hearing. She then freely admitted that Allan Finch's idea to not only kill Xander, but also destroy his reputation at the same time, had had a great deal more merit to it than she'd initially supposed.
Too bad for Darla that she couldn't see the Special Forces tattoo glow green at the moment of death; nor did she know how – just as with every avatar of the four elements – death was most definitely NOT the end...
TBC...