Everything either belongs to Joss or it should, no infringement is intended and no profit is to be made. When you get right down to it I'm not really worth suing anyway unless you want a share of an underpaid civil servants wages and it just wouldn't be worth the hassle trust me.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hyperion Hotel – Los Angeles – April 2004

'What the hell did Illyria do to Glory?' Dawn asked Wesley quietly, staring at the bedraggled sickly Hellgod sat alone at the dining room table. 'Not that I bet she didn't deserve it' she added.

Wesley smirked as he continued to pour a large cup of coffee from the insulated plastic jug that had been put out. 'Illyria didn't do a thing to her' he answered and stepped away from the serving counter so the line of girls queuing up neatly behind could get their own. They had only returned from Pylea less than twenty minutes before and they were looking forward to getting a proper breakfast after three months of field rations. It was closer to evening than morning in LA but they were on Pylean time which was shifted several hours and would be for a few days yet.

Dawn watched Wesley curiously as he walked over to Glory and with what looked like a modicum of empathy and pity place the coffee in front of her. 'Stop drinking it if you feel queasy' he advised the Hellgod who looked up at him with bleary eyes and without saying thanks picked up the cup.

Wesley returned to where Dawn was and tried to decide what he wanted to eat, Andrew had prepared a wide choice as he weighed the pros and cons of scrambled eggs he thought Dawn might appreciate an explanation as much as she seemed to appreciate Glory's obvious discomfort. 'Well we found out something during the going home party last night' he told her. 'At some level Glory's biology is a lot closer to ours than it is Illyria's' he continued. 'She got totally hammered on cheap Scotch and now she's got a deity sized hangover to contend with.'

Dawn looked at Glory again. 'You're kidding?' she asked, before breaking out into laughter.

'No I'm not' Wesley replied, shaking his head. 'Wait until you see her do the Macarena, one of the girls grabbed a video camera and recorded it for posterity.'

'Now I know you're making it up' Dawn declared.

Wesley shook his head. 'I wish I were' he replied, 'the locals ran away screaming, we try not to even whistle when we're there normally, the Pyleans hate it, but she did the whole song with actions and then started bawling everyone out for not joining in.'

'How can a God get drunk and then have a hangover?' Dawn asked incredulously.

'Ben was almost fully Homo-Sapiens' Wesley replied, 'when they divided Glory got all the power but presumably she retained some of that legacy beyond her external human appearance' he theorised. 'Interestingly enough that makes her somewhat similar to a slayer' he continued. 'Human with demonic enhancements rather than pure demon, although in Glory's case the power boost is naturally even more pronounced than say your sisters' he said. 'The human form shouldn't really be able to contain that level of power but Ben was specifically made to be a prison for Glory so his other gift to her was what Illyria might term an extra durable shell otherwise she might have self-destructed by now.'

'Glory's human?' Dawn queried doubtfully.

Wesley shrugged. 'To a degree it seems' he replied. 'Though so was Lucrezia Borgia' he added, 'so it's not in itself any indication she's any less self-absorbed, amoral or unpleasant that she might have been in her original condition.'

'Illyria can't get drunk can she?' Dawn queried.

'Not hardly' Wesley responded. 'She wears her human appearance like a set of clothes by comparison, rocket fuel and sulphuric acid chasers might give her a buzz but alcohol wouldn't even register. I might be bothered that my girlfriend can easily drink me under the table but compared to her other superiorities over me it seems fairly trivial.'

'Where is Illyria anyhow?' Dawn asked, looking around.

'Checking her email apparently' Wesley responded, rolling his eyes slightly.

'Her email?' Dawn repeated.

'She plays computer games on-line with some club or something and they're in some kind of league apparently' he responded. 'She wanted to see how they got on while she was away and tell them she was available for the next match.'

Dawn blinked. 'Illyria plays for a gaming clan?' she asked in surprise.

'Something called Counter-Strike' Wesley told her. 'She keeps trying to get me to try it, she says my hand-eye coordination and weapons knowledge would be handy but it just all seems so puerile' he opined.

'We've saved you a place Sir' one of the girls who had just got back from Pylea interrupted. Most of the gunslayers had already collected their food and had sat down at a long table made by pushing a few together into a line.

'Thank you Susan, I'll join you in a minute' Wesley replied and after giving a sharp, shallow nod of recognition in lieu of a salute the girl carried her own tray to join the others.

'Still got them calling you Sir then?' Dawn observed.

'It's not like I ever made it compulsory although I think Ashton encouraged it in order to set up a proper rank and command structure' Wesley answered. 'They've graded themselves you know' he continued, 'Gunslayer First Class to Third Class based on seniority and they decided to start calling Vi "Gunslayer-Chef" so that she outranks the rest of them.'

Dawn raised her eyebrows, it all sounded very paramilitary. 'How long until Vi gets back?'

Wesley started loading his tray with food having made his selections. 'She and the other girls who stayed on to help the new girls adjust will be on Pylea another month, that should be enough time for a proper handover' he replied. 'Most of them are Gunslayer First Class which is roughly equivalent to Sergeant I suppose, you can get promoted to Second Class based on nothing but field time but moving up from there requires command ability too. Some people are just not cut out to give orders.'

'So if it's based of ability to give orders Illyria makes Godslayer-Chef then?' Dawn joked.

Wesley grimaced. 'Don't say that in front of her' he asked. 'She's already got too many titles, self-appointed or otherwise and it's not like she stops using them even if they haven't carried any weight since before dinosaurs walked the earth.'

'I don't know' Dawn responded trying to keep a straight face. 'The "God-King" thing might make a comeback in the future, you never know.'

Wesley laughed, what were the chances? 'Can you imagine how insufferable she'd be?' he asked rhetorically. 'I mean, I love her but there's a limit to how much egotism a man can take.'

Dawn nodded her agreement. 'And that would make you Princess, I mean Prince Consort right?' she asked. This must be how Illyria felt much of the time, knowing something incredibly important and amusing but not letting on until the last minute.

'I suppose it would' Wesley replied thoughtfully. 'Like Albert was Consort to Queen Victoria' he continued.

'Or Guinevere to King Arthur' Dawn suggested, using pure willpower not to burst out laughing.

Wesley frowned. Gunn had mentioned Guinevere in passing not ten minutes before and Stirling had been making random references to the Arthur legend for much of their time together on Pylea. Perhaps it was just a coincidence but his paranoia was starting to act up again. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dawn and indicated he was going to sit down and eat now.

Dawn bade him farewell, she was going out with Connor in a minute anyhow. As he reached the table she noted the place they saved him was at the head of the table and that to her slight surprise every single one of the girls immediately stopped their laughing and joking and stood up when he arrived. They didn't resume their seats until he sat down and nor did they start talking or eating again until he asked one of the girls to pass the salt. It was a very long way from the informality that usually categorised things around here from Dawn's perspective, and she wondered how it was all going to pan out long term.

Making a mental note to get a copy of the video of Glory doing the Macarena burned to DVD for posterity Dawn went to look for her boyfriend. She only wished she could get a recording of Wesley's reaction when Giles explained the Deeper Well God-King prophecy to him and then gave him the bad news it was his job to tell Illyria in turn.

And they were so getting him a tiara for his next birthday.

Warehouse District – Cleveland – April 2004

'I still can't believe you actually did that' Kennedy declared, throwing her soiled jacket over a chair. 'You could have been killed for a stupid joke.'

'Oh come on it was worth it, admit it' Stephen replied. 'I couldn't go through life never having used that line' he stated, hanging his long-sword and scabbard up on a hook while he went to get himself a much deserved beer from the fridge, the two other girls who had been with them following behind seeking a soft drink for themselves, slaying could be thirsty work.

'What did he do?' Shannon asked. It was her night off from patrolling and her boyfriend was busy so she had spent it in front of the television watching old movies.

Kennedy shook her head sadly. 'Get this' she said. 'We run into some demon cult that likes swords.'

'An offshoot of the Cult of Balthazar' Stephen interrupted.

'Whatever' Kennedy continued, 'and get this they challenge the best of us to a fucking duel.'

'They're renowned for that behaviour, quite honourable in their own way' Stephen noted.

'So needless to say before I can tell them to kiss my ass and get busy with the staking the idiot here accepts' Kennedy told her.

'It seemed the thing to do' Stephen remarked, opening the bottle he got from the fridge and taking a swig.

Kennedy slumped down in a chair. 'So there we are, formed up in a big circle, slayers on one side, vampires on the other with D'Artagnon and one of their guys in the centre doing the whole duel to the death thing' she explains. 'They figure he's only a human so they only put up one of their rookies against him.'

'Hubris' Stephen declared. 'Everyone underestimates the guy with the pulse' he said. 'You should hear some of the stories Xander Harris has.'

'So Stephen won?' Shannon asked, he still had the pulse so he must have, she reasoned.

Kennedy nodded. 'Oh yeah but that's not the real kicker of the story' she said. 'So there they are fencing away, and I just keep getting this feeling that something's not right but I can't figure out what it was' she continued. 'Well after a couple of minutes the vamps getting the upper hand and he starts taunting.'

'More like a barbed complement' Stephen interjected. 'He said I was pretty good for a human but that wasn't good enough to take on a member of the Cult of Balthazar, he offered to turn me though, said if I had vampire reaction times I'd be a half decent swordsman.'

'Yeah' Kennedy agreed. 'That was it' she said, 'but then the Limey here starts laughing. So the vamp looks pissed off and says "what are you laughing about".'

'Which is when I tell him I'm not left handed' Stephen interrupted again and broke down laughing setting off the two slayers with him.

Shannon's jaw dropped. 'You can't be serious?' she exclaimed.

Kennedy looked up at the ceiling. 'No he really said it' she replied. 'Sword-boy there tells them he's been fighting with his wrong hand, swaps and then starts hacking the vamp to pieces.'

'It was a once in a lifetime opportunity' Stephen declared, trying not to shake too hard from the laughing, he might spill his beer. 'I couldn't let it go' he said, 'it was worth it just for the expression on their faces when I switched hands.'

'Oh Jesus you should have seen them' one of the other girls agreed.

'You could have been killed' Kennedy pointed out.

'He never so much as scratched me' Stephen retorted. 'I wouldn't have clowned around if he'd been much better than he was.'

'I'm telling Giles' Kennedy told him. 'It was stupid.'

'It was still worth it' Stephen replied.

Kennedy frowned. 'I'm telling Emily' she said coldly.

Stephen flinched. 'Oh don't do that she'll kill me' he responded.

'You're supposed to help set an example' Kennedy told him. 'Can you imagine Giles doing something like that?'

Stephen thought about it. 'Probably not but I'll bet he sees the humour in it' he replied. 'Wesley on the other hand would have just pulled a pistol and shot the guy when he challenged him to a duel. He might share a name with the Dread Pirate Roberts true identity but he acts more like Indiana Jones.'

Kennedy groaned. 'You're spending too much time watching DVD's' she told him. 'We need to find you something else to do with your free time, it's not healthy.'

'You're not the boss of me' Stephen replied with a grin.

'So what happened next?' Shannon asked.

'After getting nicely cut up vamp gets decapitated and the rest of them, get this, pull their swords and give Stephen a goddamn salute' Kennedy told her. 'He returns it and tells them to get out of town.'

'They live by a code, they'll do it' Stephen told them. 'We couldn't fight them all without taking losses, it was the best outcome' he said. 'Besides which if we dusted them they wouldn't get a chance to warn the rest of the cult about the Dread Watcher Travers' he deadpanned.

'I really am going to tell Emily' Kennedy told him.

Stephen shrugged he hadn't thought she was bluffing anyway. 'First time I've ever been in any way happy she's two thousand miles away' he responded. Then he realised she might cry and that was a lot worse than the idea she'd scream at him for being a bloody idiot. 'If I promise not to do it again would you please not do that' he asked.

'Or anything remotely as idiotic' Kennedy added.

'Oh come on that's like giving you carte blanche to determine what I'm allowed to do' Stephen complained.

'It's for your own good and as punishment for making me the level-headed responsible one you…' Kennedy paused to think, 'you wanker' she continued hoping she got the connotation right.

'That was a bit harsh' he told her. 'Okay I'll be a good boy from now on' he agreed with a contrite expression which was slightly ruined by the hint of a smile.

'You'd better be' Kennedy told him seriously 'I don't want your death on my conscience' she stated. Kennedy didn't talk about it but she hadn't ever gotten over Chloe's suicide and hated the idea that anyone would ever die under her watch be it slayer or indeed a watcher.

'There's just one proviso' Stephen said.

'What?' Kennedy asked coldly.

'Admit it was a bloody great line and unbelievably funny when I did it' Stephen told her.

Kennedy sighed. 'Okay' she said. 'I admit it, it was hilarious, are you happy now?' she asked.

'I'm good' Stephen replied.

'Don't feel too pleased with yourself' Kennedy told him, 'it wasn't like it was original or anything.'

'Bet I'm the first person to do it in a real-life duel to the death though, you've got to admire the poise surely' Stephen countered, throwing her one of his most winning smiles.

Kennedy shook her head sadly. 'You're so lucky there's a watcher shortage' she told him. You just couldn't find good Limey help these days.

Hyperion Hotel – Los Angeles – April 2004

Wesley sat there with his forehead on the table looking at the floor, he had been in the same position for quite a while. 'It's all right for you bastards' he said. 'You don't have to live with her, at least not like I do' he said, not changing position.

Buffy grinned. 'So how did she take it when you told her?' she asked. Looking across at Faith and Giles, the only other one present was Dawn who got to sit in by virtue of her work in translating the prophecy.

'She made a noise that might best be described as "squee" and did the Pylean Dance of Joy' Wesley replied. 'And no before you ask I'm not making that shit up, she actually did' he told them. 'After that I had a smug, self-satisfied deity-girlfriend to put up with all afternoon and it was painful' he declared with a moan.

Giles tried to remain stoic and professional, as he had when telling Wesley earlier that day before the younger man went to tell Illyria in turn. 'So she reacted positively to the notion of being the once and future God-King then?' he asked deadpan.

Wesley looked up. 'She's currently surfing the internet trying to determine what colour she wants the coronation robes, her own shade of Blue or Imperial Purple.'

'Sounds like a big yes to me' Dawn suggested.

'To be honest there weren't many who thought she'd not welcome the news with some enthusiasm' Giles told him.

'Her only reservation concerns the title' Wesley remarked. 'She told me that given her current form, and the fact she plans to rule far beyond the limitations of this dimension, that she might abandon "God-King" for "Deus Imperatrix" instead.'

'God-Empress' Dawn and Giles translated simultaneously.

'Latin right?' Faith asked. 'Sounds classy anyway' she opined.

'Illyria thinks so' Wesley noted. 'She also thinks that she might go for a nice Greco-Roman architecture in her new capital' he said before resuming his previous position with his forehead resting on the conference table. 'You'll all be delighted to hear that she intends to rule as a Philosopher King rather in the manner of the ideal from Plato's Republic rather than a self-serving tyrant.'

'Magnanimous of her' Giles remarked wryly.

'She thought you'd all be pleased' Wesley responded sardonically. 'She might even allow power to be shared with an elected Senate as a sop to those who are inexplicably and illogically unhappy with the concept of the human race being ruled by an immortal demon for the rest of eternity' he continued. 'Who knows, if she veers any further to the left she might end up not regarding Atilla the Hun as a bleeding heart liberal.'

'Damn hippy barbarian hordes' Dawn joked.

'She's not expecting us all to swear fealty or anything is she?' Giles asked.

Wesley shook his head, or rather he rocked it from side to side on the table. 'No she's well aware you don't really see her as your Liege Lord, well not yet at least' he answered. 'She's more than happy to play the waiting game, she's always thought we'd all see sense eventually and put her in charge, the prophecy just confirmed it to her way of thinking.'

'So no reborn thoughts of conquest' Buffy asked seriously, 'of this world I mean?'

'You don't need to be making plans to take a scythe to her since I assume that's what you're thinking' Wesley replied, looking up again. 'You might not always believe so but she's actually become far too fond of you all to consider a drastic short-term approach to her "not ruling the world like I should be" problem which would entail eliminating the major threat you would represent to such a scheme.'

Buffy smiled, it was strange but despite all the incredibly rude, condescending and obnoxious things she said you really did still somehow get the impression that underneath it all Illyria liked you, unless she actively disliked you of course, in which case you were in seriously deep shit and living on borrowed time. 'Nice to know' she told Wesley.

'That isn't to say she wouldn't kill each and every one of you if she thought it was necessary but it would have to be a very good reason and she'd feel bad about it afterwards' Wesley added.

'Well we wouldn't want her getting too sentimental' Giles responded. 'I'd hate the other side to think she'd gone soft' he continued. 'Her mere existence as a constant presence in their collective psyches is enough to make most demons think twice about doing something untoward.'

Faith nodded. 'When I'm out in the field and rousting something nasty when it's with its friends I've been told the only reason they aren't trying to rip my throat out is that the word on the street says push the slayers too hard and they'll let the Old One off the leash' she said. 'Anything that has Wolfram and Hart looking over its shoulder is something none of them want to ever deal with. You can't buy a killer rep like that, you've got to earn it.'

'But what if the prophecy is true?' Buffy asked. 'Can you imagine a world with Illyria in charge.'

'Guessing that to be in the future at least we could be sure the magnetic levitation trains and passenger shuttles to the orbiting space hotels would run on time' Wesley joked.

'The question that might be asked instead is what are the circumstances in which the Council backed up by a couple of thousand slayer would allow Illyria to rule?' Giles noted. 'She's not omnipotent, she couldn't defeat all of us, or all of our successors assuming the prophecy does relate to some point in the distant future instead.'

Faith looked thoughtful. 'No offence B' she said, 'but if the shit really hit the fan and we got a full scale demon invasion, and I mean millions of the fuckers I'd vote to put Blue in charge, maybe that's what happens?' she suggested.

Buffy frowned. 'I've thought about that myself' she admitted. 'If there was no other choice, better Blue than dead' Buffy told them. 'At least she seems to have some grasp that humanity is more than something to snack on.'

Giles nodded then chuckled. 'If it ever comes to that' he began, 'you might want to remember this is how it's done' he told her and stood up, arm initially across his chest then swung forward outstretched at chest height, hand open, palm face down in a Roman style salute. 'Ave. Ave, Illyria, Deus Imperatrix' he intoned, trying to deliver the words in a sober manner.

'Hail. Hail, Illyria, God-Empress' Dawn translated.

'She'd love that' Wesley told Buffy. 'Seriously, she'd love it' he continued. 'You might even get to see the Dance of Joy.'

Buffy hoped to hell she'd never see that dance on several levels, it made the idea of watching Glory do the Macarena on the big Plasma Screen TV downstairs again sound downright appealing by comparison.

Note from the Author:

Very sorry I'm only doing updates once a week at present. Work's a bitch at the moment and I can't write as well when I'm stressed so it takes longer to produce a chapter.

Hopefully back to my old update pace soon though!