Summary: A reunion and preparing to leave again.

Spoilers: Up through BtVS:Chosen and AtS:NFA

Rating: Minor language.

Disclaimer: Twentieth Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, and all other copyright holders, own the rights to their respective works and characters. I receive no compensation for this work, nor is there any intent to deprive the owners of their rightful due.

AN: Lot's of exposition, very little action, I'm afraid. But some things just need to be said.


Part 3: We Represent...

"Hey, that was my reaction too!" Xander exclaimed before sheepishly adding, "but I wasn't nearly so polite about it. And I didn't have the cushy chair to fall on either," he finally grumped.

Giles gave Xander a brief annoyed glance then brought his hand up to rub his forehead, which at the same time blocked his view of the presumed dead girl. Cordelia had stopped short when Giles fell back, unsuccessfully hiding an bemused expression. A flummoxed Giles is a beautiful sight to behold.

"I-is it really...?" Giles stammered to a halt, peeking around his hand.

Cordelia, beaming, answered, "It really is!"

Giles was observant enough to know she couldn't be The First, as Xander had been holding her hand. And being daytime made it highly improbable she was a vampire. But, but...

He succumbed to a compulsive need to clean his glasses. Something, anything, to focus on while he tried to put order to suddenly incoherent thoughts.

Seconds silently passed as Cordelia looked back uncertainly at Xander. Xander coughed politely, causing Giles to jump slightly. He looked up from his pointless cleaning task and, finally remembering his manners, stood and stepped forward to greet Cordelia. He hesitated then, quite unsure just how to greet this woman before him he had not seen in so many years, this woman he never expected to see again. He initially made as if to shake her hand and took one more awkward halting half-step forward.

"Giles!" Cordelia laughed as she closed the space between them and wrapped up the older gentleman in a joyful embrace. At first Giles stood stock-still in the unexpected familiarity before he relaxed and gently patted her back.

Xander rocked back on his heels and enjoyed the uncharacteristic show of affection from the often reserved and usually stiffly polite Head Watcher. Now somewhat embarrassed Giles finally pulled back, but still gently held her hands in each of his, shaking them slightly as though he still needed convincing this was not an apparition before him.

"This is quite...unexpected."

"Can you believe this guy's the Council head honcho?"

Giles turned to glare at Xander but Cordelia easily caught the tiniest quirk of an affectionate smile pulling on the corners of his mouth when he turned back to her.

"It's so good to see you again, Giles!" Even during her estrangement with the rest of the Scooby gang the latter half of senior year, Giles had remained someone she could still talk to, cherishing his gentle avuncular manner, with his easy tolerance of her no matter how bitchy she was toward his other charges. He was one of the very few reasons she had had the sense there was still a home for her in Sunnydale after she left.

"We thought you were dead!"

She replied with a friendly mocking smile, "So did I!"

"And you're really Cordelia?" he asked again, shaking her arms once more.

"Senile already, are you?" finally showing a touch of irritation with his denseness.

"Ah yes, you are indeed Cordelia," he was forced to agree with a smile. "But how? Wait! Before you begin," Giles raised a finger to halt her explanation. He circled around the desk, opened the office door and leaned out. "Mrs. Darby, please hold all calls and cancel everything I have this afternoon. I don't wish to be disturbed under any circumstances."

Xander and Cordelia heard the muffled reply but couldn't make out the words Giles' assistant said.

"Yes, yes, if there's an apocalypse, then of course, by all means."

He came back in shaking his head and bade them all to sit.

"This happened yesterday, you say?" he asked of Xander while returning to the front of the desk and leaning on it, unabashedly staring at Cordelia, completely entranced.

"Yeah, at Stonehenge. I was walking around, y'know, minding my own business, and then ZAP!" clapping his hands together, making both Cordelia and Giles start, "I get an inside view of a thunder bolt. Very enlightening." Xander was utterly oblivious to his companion's reactions, both of whom groaned and rolled their eyes. "And there--"

"Hold on a moment," Giles held up his hand to forestall Xander's explanation. He reached back into a drawer, withdrew a leather-bound notebook and took the pen that had been lying on his desk. "Okay, go on," furiously scribbling notes as Xander continued his story.

"--she was, lying on the ground in a hospital gown. Not much else to it."

"At Stonehenge, hmm?" Giles echoed, tapping the pen against his chin. He got to his feet again and stepped over to a large cabinet opposite the fireplace and opened one of the drawers. He rifled through several rolled up sheaves, pulling out each one in turn and fussing with it before moving to the next. Xander and Cordelia shared a look, a smile, and a shrug while they waited for him.

Giles finally grunted in satisfaction and brought a large roll back to the desk. As he started to unfurl it Xander got up and helped pin down the corners with various heavy objects from off the desktop. They were soon looking down at a large-scale plan of Stonehenge, much more detailed than anything available to tourists.

"Where were you when the lightening hit?"

Xander leaned in for a better look at the map and to orient himself. Cordelia stood up to get a better view as well, curious, but otherwise remained silent.

"Here," Xander pointed to a place on the chart near the Heel Stone. Giles carefully noted the location in the journal and put a slight tick on the chart itself.

"And where did you find Cordelia?"

"Over here," indicating the other side of the Heel Stone, at a spot directly on a line joining the stone with the center of the main circle.

"And what time was it?"

"Around five-thirty or six, I think."

Giles continued his interrogation of Xander, getting every detail he could extract, carefully noting them in the pages of his book.

"And Cordelia, describe to me in as much detail as you can what you saw and felt. Can you start from when you were last with Angel?"

Cordelia repeated the story she had given Xander the night before, along with some additional details that she now recalled. When she finished Giles looked back through his notes to find a point he wanted to clarify. "So it seemed to you only a few moments passed after leaving Angel and arriving here?

"Right, I stepped through Angel's office door and everything went black for about a second or two. It was cold. The next moment I'm still cold, but I'm also lying on the ground getting wet. Then this freak," pointing at Xander, "attacks me."

Giles ignored Xander's indignant 'hey' as he asked his next question. "And yet what we believe we know is that you did in fact die, in the hospital, over a year ago. That it was an astral projection of yourself present at the Wolfram & Hart offices." He paused in thought. "Were you wearing the gown when you were in Angel's office?"

"Nope," she answered with a shake of her head.

"And you never had the feeling you lost conscience?"

"No, but how can I really tell?"

"Hmm, good point." He stopped writing and stared at his notes, pondering something.

"What are you thinking, oh knower of all things strange," asked Xander.

"Angel said she died, and I believe he thought he was telling us the truth. We've also reviewed the hospital records and they list the cause of death as heart failure, but..."

"But what!"

"It's just a theory, but..." he began to scratch his temple, "how do we know she really died?"

Xander did a double-take and returned a goggle-eyed, stupefied look, waving his hand around aimlessly, "But, but..."

Cordelia didn't say anything as she sat back, her face relaxing into a thoughtful look.

"Either she was revived from death, from oblivion, body and soul--something that is supremely difficult to accomplish, requiring an immense concentration of dark magics--or she never died."

"Or how about a miracle. A miracle happened here!"

"Xander!"

"Just a theory."

Cordelia asked, "Then how do you explain everything that happened? How else did I get here?"

"It's so much easier, and requires much less magic, to merely pass you through a portal and back. Yes, yes," Giles literally bounced with excitement as he warmed up to his pet theory, thinking aloud as he waded through the possibilities. "You only have to tap into existing energy to open a portal. That's much less than it takes to revive the deceased, to restore their body and rejoin the soul."

By this time Xander had overcome his initial shock at the seeming absurdity of the idea and began to agree with it. But he thought he saw a hole in Giles' theory. "So if Cordy was transported here, then what was left at the hospital?"

"A fake. A clone perhaps. Something enough like her to fool the doctors and medical examiners. They would have no reason to suspect any foul play or anything else untoward. How carefully would they recheck the identity of a body they believed they identified?"

Suddenly Cordelia shook her head firmly, indicating her denial, "No, no, no. That's not right. The whole time I was at Angel's I knew my body was really back in the hospital, dead."

"And how is that, exactly?" Giles inquired, watching Cordelia intently.

"Well, um...the Powers told me?" She fidgeted under the intensity of his gaze.

"One of these powers appeared before you and said, 'Cordelia, you're dead'?"

"Not like that exactly," now very less sure of the ground she was standing on.

"Then how? Exactly?"

"It was a-a-a certainty. Something I just knew! And I knew it was from the Powers That Be."

Giles expressed his doubts with a slight pursing of his lips. "Even assuming what you say, have the Powers always dealt with you in a straightforward and trustworthy manner?"

She paused as she thought back on her years as Angel's 'Vision Girl' and the pain and torment she endured, especially in the last year. She also recalled what Angel had told her of Skip's involvement in Jasmine's scheme. With a sigh she conceded Giles' point, "No. They haven't."

"If I'm correct, I surmise that you were put into a reality where time runs differently than ours. Not unlike what Buffy experienced one time. That could explain why it seemed to you only a moment passed."

"But," Xander interrupted, "in that one, time ran much faster. She said hours passed for her while only a few seconds for the rest of us."

Giles turned to answer Xander's question, "There's no reason to believe our reality is somehow special in that regard. It's likely some realities run slower than ours. Perhaps the one she was in."

Both Xander and Cordelia sat back as they tried to absorb Giles' notion. Then Xander got a strange expression, like he was tasting something unpleasant, sour and bitter at the same time.

"What is it, Xander?" asked Giles.

"You're guessing that a fake Cordy was left behind in the hospital as the real Cordy was brought here, right?"

Giles nodded his head. "Yes. But I'll remind you it's only a theory."

"Okay, fine. Then how do we know it's not the other way around? That the real Cordelia did die in the hospital, and that this," pointing at the girl next to him, "is a fake."

"Xander! Of cour--" Giles' immediate outrage was stopped outright by the obvious truth of Xander's suggestion. He sat back, at a loss for what to say or think next. After a long moment he looked over at Cordelia to give her another appraisal.

"I'm as likely to be a clone as you are to have a brain: not a chance!" The glower she directed at Xander should have turned him into a puddle of sniveling whimpering geekboy-goo. Years ago it might have.

"Well, you sound a lot like you, I'll give you that. But how can we be sure? Really sure?"

She opened her mouth to fire back another answer at Xander but stopped with her mouth halfway open. She had no answer for that.

Long awkward moments passed as they contemplated the rather depressing possibility. Then Giles suddenly looked very pleased with himself. "Well," Giles started as he turned to face Cordelia, "We can arrange to have you examined by the coven, if you don't mind. They can perform a revelation spell on you t-to, ah, to 'reveal' the true essence of your aura."

"No way I'm gonna let some freaky witches strap me down and poke me with chicken feet and baby bones. You can forget that idea before it even gets to the launching pad."

Giles chuckled gently at Cordelia's ignorance. "No, no, it's nothing like that. You just sit quietly for a few moments while they cast the spell. There's a little bit of smelly smoke but they never have to touch you. It's actually quite relaxing in fact. Just don't wear anything you value, the smell can be quite difficult to get out of clothing."

Cordelia was visibly relieved. "And no singing either?"

A confused Giles replied, "Ah, no-o-o-o. Though I do believe Xander was humming 'Smoke on the Water' when it was his turn."

"Figures. Well, in that case, okay. When do I do it?"

"I'll give them a call and get the arrangements started. There are a few things they need to prepare. In a day or two I should think."

"Okay, the Mr. Science show is fine and dandy, and the super-powered mind bender is all set," said Xander, "but either way, transferred through dimensions, or brought back from the dead, how can we tell what's going on? Who did it and why? And is it coincidence or not that I happened to be at the exact spot and time when she, or whatever it is--oww!--showed up?" He rubbed his shoulder where Cordelia had landed a very solid punch.

"Are you two done playing around?" They nodded. "Those are excellent questions. Who did it, why, and how exactly did they do it? I suspect having the answer to any of those could lead us very quickly to the answers to the others. We've already gone over some possibilities for the 'how' but don't really know for certain. As for the who and the why..." Giles tossed up his arms. "Well, let's start with who we know has the power to bring back the dead, or open portals?" He carefully left off the Cordelia-is-a-clone possibility.

"The Powers," was Cordelia's immediate suggestion.

"Yes, they're certainly a prime candidate." Giles nodded his head.

"The First?" asked Xander.

"Possibly. Though The First could only recreate images of the deceased. It had to work through other agencies to accomplish anything. But yes, The First might have the power."

Xander started snapping his fingers, shaking his head, "No, no! Wait, wait a minute! Didn't The First also bring back Angel from that Hell dimension?"

"Yes, you're right Xander! Good, excellent. The First does have the ability to move beings through dimensions." He added the information to his list of candidates.

Giles continued to add notes as the others sat furiously thinking of more possible candidates.

"Willow," quietly added Xander after a few moments. Giles paused and frowned, then nodded his head and added her name as well.

Getting into the spirit, Cordelia came up with, "Wolfram & Hart." When Giles and Xander looked at her with questioning expressions, she added, "They brought back Darla. A human Darla."

They discussed various ideas awhile longer before Giles said, "This is all an excellent start. But to confirm or deny our suspicions we need to get down to some hard facts. We really should resear--"

"You finish that word and I'm gonna burn down your library." Xander half joked, half threatened.

"--look into it very carefully, very thoroughly." Giles finished with a childish smirk.

Xander threw up his hands in exasperation. Cordelia watched with detached amusement the little interplay between the two generations.

Grinning at Xander's defeat in this round of their little game, Giles announced, "Let's put this aside for now and move on. Now, what of this demon you left in the morgue last night. I have the initial autopsy report here," he rolled up the Stonehenge chart and shuffled through stacks of papers, producing a slim folder. Opening it, he took out the note Xander had left behind. "You say you encountered this near your flat? This is highly unusual."

"I don't know. If I didn't know better I'd swear it was waiting for us."

"An ambush?"

"Yeah. But how could it know when I'd be getting home. And why me? "

"I wouldn't underestimate your importance, but is it possible it was after Cordelia?"

"Even less likely. How would it know she was with me?"

"I don't know, but let's not exclude the possibility." He flipped slowly through the few pages of the report. "You did very well to kill it." He didn't bother to mention the heart-attack he nearly suffered when he realized Xander had again taken on another demon by himself. "It's a MacDonald's Demon, known to be very tough, very resilient, if rather stupid and single minded."

"A McDonald's Demon? I can tell you flat out this was no Big Mac with legs."

"MacDonald was the Scotsman who first observed this kind of demon in..." he glanced back through the report summary, "the fifteenth century. Of course, they've probably been around a lot earlier than that; MacDonald was just the first to survive and record the encounter. Some more information has been discovered since that time, but it's sketchy. They usually work for some other demon, don't have much initiative of their own, and are very loyal. A good job killing it," Giles gave an approving nod to Xander.

"In fact it nearly killed me," Xander admitted before hooking his thumb at Cordelia. "Cordy's the one who killed it."

"Cordelia! Really?" eyes widening in surprise.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"And most sincerely. She's good in a fight, Giles."

Giles backpedaled as best he could, "I-I-I didn't mean to imply--"

"Except that you did, Mr. Tactful."

"Er, yes. Well. Good job." He picked up some of the scattered folders and papers and began to shuffle them together, studiously avoiding eye contact with Cordelia.

The mantle clock chimed five times at that moment, causing everyone to stop, yawn and stretch. Giles looked from his watch and back to the clock and then held his watch up to his ear, shaking it.

"Told you to get an electric. They're the in thing these days," ribbed Xander.

"Yes you have. Rather tirelessly. Would either of you care for tea or coffee, and something to eat?"

They agreed and Giles called down to have afternoon tea served. Clasping his hands in front of him on the desk and emitting a wistful sigh, he explained, "In many ways I still think of California as home, but you colonists never got afternoon tea right. If for that reason alone we shall never relocate to Cleveland."

While they waited for the tea and refreshments they chatted amiably about various inconsequential topics. Giles gave Cordelia a short history of the building they were in, explaining that it originally started as a school for girls, then underwent several transformations as it changed owners before finally being bought from a software firm that had gone under in the last recession. It had now come full circle and was once again a training facility for girls, though of the super-powered variety this go-around, and also for those men and women destined to be watchers.

"Well, that was quite a re-introduction. Is that everything?"

"Yeah, one more thing. She's really spooked about what little mystical surprise Easter Eggs she might be carrying. What can we do about that?"

"Ah, yes. Jasmine." He turned to face Cordelia, "The coven's examination will take care of that easily. If there is any aspect of you that is not Cordelia Chase we'll know."

Cordelia was mollified by Giles' explanation and nodded her thanks and appreciation.

"That takes care of past and present. Now for the future. Do you know what you want to do at this time, Cordelia? Xander's already told me he guaranteed we would help you get to wherever you want or provide whatever you need. I will reaffirm that. Anything you need, anywhere you want to go, just let us know."

"Thank you, Giles, that means a lot to me."

"So that's settled. Who else knows you're back?"

"Just the two of you."

"Do you want us to let the others know, or would you prefer to handle that yourself?"

"I guess I should let Angel and the team know."

"Err...ahh, yes, we have Angel's number. Lorne's as well, if you wish to inform him also.

"Well yeah, but I guess everybody should know, right?"

Giles eyebrows knit in confusion. "Everybody?" he asked with a frown. "Buffy? Willow? Yes of course, they would be ecstatic to hear the good news."

"Them too. But I meant Wes. Gunn and Fred. Duh, the whole gang."

"Oh," he sat back, non-plussed by Cordelia's simple statement. "I see. Ahh..." Giles trailed off as he cast an odd look, half accusing and half worried, at Xander. "You didn't tell her, Xander?"

Xander squirmed guiltily, "No, I wasn't sure how to bring it up. I only mentioned Sunnydale."

"That's all?" Giles started to admonish the younger man, "Xander, don--"

"Tell me what?"

"She's going through enough as it is!"

Xander's heated response overrode Cordelia question and she repeated it more forcefully. "Tell me what?" she demanded again.

Giles was beginning to get emotional as well, raising his voice. "Don't you think Cordelia has the right to kn--"

"I wasn't trying to hide anything," Xander fired back, "just waiting for a better time!"

Cordelia jumped to her feet, interposing herself between the two quarreling men. "TELL ME WHAT!"

Giles and Xander stared at each other for an ominously quiet moment then around the office, anywhere but at Cordelia. She glared at Xander and then Giles and back again, anger building.

Giles' tone became gentle again, compassionate, "There's never going to be a good time, Xander." He paused while Xander just nodded his head in defeat. "I can tell her, if you'd prefer."

"Somebody better start talking. And I mean right. The hell. Now!" Her eyes blazed with a blistering fury as she glared down at the two men.

"No," Xander answered in a low voice, "I got it." He took two deep breaths before addressing Cordelia directly, making sure he had her attention. "You'd better sit back down, Cordy."

She maintained her defiant stance, refusing to be pushed around by him. But his grim, sorrowful expression didn't change as he unflinchingly held her gaze. A dark pit began to open up in her mind, sensing something truly awful, and she slowly sat.

Xander wiped a hand down his face, pulling on his chin, before continuing, "Listen to me, Cordy. A lot of things have happened in the last couple of years. Most of them not good--well, if you don't count saving the Earth from eternal hell or destruction several times over. But it's happened with a price. A very big price."

Suddenly recalling the photo of Anya in Xander's flat she began to suspect what the price just might be. The bulwark foundation of her anger collapsed completely. "What's going on, Xander! " she pleaded, almost begging, "Please, just tell me."

"Okay", he started again, then got up and paced in front of her, "you already know about Sunnydale." He stopped directly in front of her, dropping down to kneel and taking her hands in his. Drawing in another deep and ragged breath he resumed, speaking slowly and deliberately, making sure Cordelia understood every word. "Cordelia, all your friends, Wesley, Fred, Gunn, everyone but Angel and Lorne, are gone." He rushed his next words, "Angel's still in LA, with someone called Illyria. Lorne we know has relocated to Las Vegas. But everyone else is...dead." he finished sadly.

It was far worse than she'd imagined it could be. "No!" she cried out. This couldn't be right! "Oh God no!" She couldn't, wouldn't, believe it. "No, no, no, nononono." Through suddenly tear-filled eyes she looked up at Xander's unwavering expression of sorrow and compassion and knew the sincerity of his words, incapable of denying their horrible truth.

She felt herself begin to curl into a fetal position and allowed herself to succumb to the grief as she stuffed her fist into her mouth, biting down hard to keep from screaming. The tightness in her heart spread throughout her body and she felt out of breath, unable to draw in any more air, like someone had punched her in the gut.

She rocked back and forth in the chair as hazy memories of her friends--No! not friends. Family!--swam before her. The gentle Fred, so kind, innocent and curious, her thirst for knowledge rivaled only by her lust for tacos. Gunn, the man with the muscles, attitude and brains to wrestle life into submission.

And Wesley! Poor Wesley. She felt most deeply for him. So often his life was one tragedy after another, his fleeting moments of glory so few and far between, too frequently ignored or abandoned by all those around him. But he had always held firm to his convictions, making the tough, necessary decisions few others, even Angel sometimes, were willing to make.

Xander moved closer to her and pulled her into a hug, just cradling and gently soothing her, not spouting any inane platitudes about how everything was going to be okay. She was immensely grateful. She didn't need or want platitudes, or wisdom, or false sympathy. She just needed to know someone cared and would be there for her.

"H-h-how?" she croaked past the fist she was still biting on, eyes closed tight but still unable to prevent the tears from leaking out.

Still holding her, Xander answered, "There was a big fight in LA. Neither of us were there, but I've read the after-battle reports. I talked to a few people who were there. We've spoken with Lorne. Eventually I even talked to Angel."

She could only motion for him to continue. Xander looked over at Giles, who nodded.

"From what we've pieced together, mostly information from Lorne, is that Angel set up a showdown between himself and something called the Black Thorn. Somehow, as a result of that, an army of demons swarmed into LA to destroy your friends. We, that is, Willow mostly--but some other powerful witches, too--had been getting signs of huge amounts of magic energy gathering, centering on LA. We think that was a side-effect of the Black Thorn's preparations."

Giles picked up where Xander left off.

"We managed to get the nearby Slayers into the fight near the beginning. And Willow and a few others from the coven teleported in. It was still a very close thing."

"Wes? The others?" she uttered in a barely audible anguished whisper. Xander loosened his hold on her but kept one arm draped around her shoulders. She pressed into him while listening to Giles' answer.

"That's where things are a little confusing. Lorne told us your friend Fred had died before the whole thing began, but otherwise refused to talk to us about it and would say no more. What little we could get from Angel didn't add anything. We think somehow this Illyria is involved in that.

"As for Wesley...we just simply don't know. Angel and Lorne both agreed he was alive that morning, but they never saw him again. We never found his body. Gunn's body was found near that hotel you used to have."

"There are a few more details, some conflicting information. Someone said something about Spike, but I think they were just very confused. It's relatively unimportant. I'm very sorry, Cordelia. I know you were very close to them." Giles came over and put his hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze of sympathy. She put her hand over the heavy weight and warmth of his hand, drawing in the strength and comfort needed. And indeed it did seem to help her and she nodded and smiled her appreciation to both men.

Xander had wanted to avoid being the bearer of such awful news, knowing what it would do to her, knowing it was inevitable. He had not been surprised by her reaction, the shock and the grief. The very real pain. He knew how empty and alone she must be feeling at this moment, to want to give into the desire to curl up and make the horrible, painful world go away, if for just a little while.

Neither was he surprised at the rapidity of her recovery as he felt the strength and determination flow back into her. With a final nod of gratitude she allowed him to let go. As he watched her he marveled again at the evidence of her resolve and fortitude. She would mourn again later, perhaps even hysterically, but only when the time and circumstances allowed. She was a fighter and for the necessities of the here and now she was going to be ready.

"It's been a hell of an afternoon, maybe we should call it a day?"

"A good idea, Xander. I'm sure we have plenty of spare rooms for her."

"She stayed at my place last night. I figure she can just keep on staying there. If she wants."

She nodded at his implied question.

As they stood to leave, Giles said, "Yes, whatever you think is best." Giles nodded to Xander and then addressed Cordelia, "You've had quite an unpleasant shock today, my dear, and you have my deepest sympathy." She approached him and this time he didn't hesitate in giving her a gentle hug of comfort. "Anything I can do for you, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. But I'm sure Xander will agree with me when I say that you have been greatly missed and we are most extraordinarily pleased to have you back." he finished with a last tightening of his embrace before releasing her.

Just as Xander and Cordelia were about to take their leave of Giles he called out, "And Xander, we can go over you observations of the Well sometime later."

Cordelia looked at the two of them curiously, still sniffling a bit, as Xander answered, "Sure thing, Giles. Swing by early tomorrow?"

Giles nodded his assent as Xander turned with Cordelia, putting his hand on the small of her back. Giles watched them very carefully as Xander guided her out of the office and down the hall.

"What was that all about?" asked Cordelia as they walked side by side down the hallway.

"What was what all about?"

"Tomorrow."

After huffing a small sigh he answered, "A consequence we have to deal with."

---

A few days later, at five past eight in the morning, both Xander and Cordelia entered Giles' office.

"Cordelia!" Giles exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Just tagging along."

Giles looked over at Xander, who appeared unconcerned about her presence. "You're welcome to join us, of course. But I don't think you'll find this all that interesting."

"Yeah, probably." She waved her hand dismissively. "Even still."

"Yes, well then, um..." He fiddled about for a moment, straightening various objects on the desk, moving a pen to a minutely more pleasing position, before turning to address Xander directly, "Let me first summarize what you've told us and what we've been able to find out here in the last few days.

"There's still no sign of a Guardian yet and The Deeper Well appears to be completely abandoned. There is significant deterioration around the tombs of many of the Old Ones. And it's getting worse."

With no warning at all Cordelia began to get a soft buzzing sensation in her back of her neck at the mention of The Deeper Well. It wasn't enough to be actually annoying but it slowly increased in intensity as it changed to a pleasant tingle slowly crawling up from the nape of her neck and across her head. She looked over at Xander to see if he had noticed anything or was reacting in some strange way.

Xander was merely nodding his head in time with Giles' recitation of facts he already knew.

Giles flipped open the folder in front of him. "Our research here was finally fruitful. One of the bits of information you found gave us a lead on a valuable text. We've managed to turn up a volume, 'd'Ory's Annotations and Commentaries', that has a small portion on the history of the Well and the Guardian's role. It explains much of what you saw, and your observations help confirm the veracity of the accounts.

"It seems the Guardian, or Keeper as he is also know, is much more than just a caretaker, or even a guard dog, protecting The Well against unwanted intruders. He also provides the focus for the energy that maintains the integrity of the tombs in the Well. Without him the power is too diffuse. It doesn't happen overnight, but without the Guardian slowly, gradually, the coffins will become completely unstable and open up at the slightest disturbance." Giles hunched forward and gave the younger man his most earnest attention. "Xander, this is important. If the Old Ones get out, then the human race is in very serious trouble."

Xander couldn't help himself in the face of Giles' seriousness, "Just very serious? Not very very serious?"

"Xander!" Giles scolded.

Xander raised his hand and nodded his head to stop the impending lecture. "How long before things start really breaking apart?"

"The text isn't specific. It only gives us a time scale: on the order of a number of months, perhaps as long as a few years."

"And Drogyn was killed about a year ago...," Xander mused, "so for all we know this could go ka-bloey any day now."

"Not the technical term I would use for it, but essentially, yes. It is imperative we find another Guardian!"

"And these comments tell us how?"

Giles frowned. "Unfortunately, not exactly. But there is one passage that references a ritual the previous guardian performs to pass on the sacred duty to his successor. It's not clear if this also works when there is no predecessor."

"But it's a place to start?"

"Agreed. It's the best we have so far."

"Great! Fire up the candles, spread the salt and flower petals, chant some gibberish, sacrifice a Blue Oyster Cult album, and we're home free!" Xander clapped his hands.

Both Cordelia and Giles shook their heads at Xander's clowning.

"I said the text only references the ritual and tells us its purpose. It doesn't describe it in any useful detail. We have been so far unsuccessful in finding a description."

"So we're hosed?"

"Perhaps not. It does say the ritual is performed in a hidden location in The Well and that there is a stone, or perhaps on the cave wall, that the ritual is fully outlined. And it gives one clue on how to find it. We need to find something called the..." he looked down at the notes he and his team had assembled, "Via Aurum." At Xander's raised eyebrow, he added the translation, "Street of Gold, or The Golden Way. In context I don't believe it's an actual road but more of a marked pathway. One that will lead us to the location."

"The Golden Way? Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"

"Er, no, I don't believe so?" Giles was perplexed. "Why?"

"Um, never mind," Xander waved it off. "Okay, so we find this path of yours, follow it and we're there. Then we do the mojo hoe-down?"

"I wish it were so simple. Not just anyone can become a guardian. The person has to prove himself worthy of the honor. It's an honor to even be able to reach the site where the ritual is performed. The builders of The Well made the path a very difficult one, with many traps and dangers to keep out the demons and the unworthy."

Xander sighed. "Same old same old. Do we have anything else on this path?"

"That's the good news. I believe you've already found the beginning of the path. You said you thought you saw what appeared to be a flash of gold near one of the tombs. I believe that may be one of the markers, perhaps the very first one.

"This is critical, Xander. We have to go back. We have to find the ritual and perform it. We need to endow a new Guardian before it's too late. We're going to go back in force, with a contingent of slayers. We're, umm, mounting an...expedition, I guess you might say. Are you up to it?"

"Sure thing," Xander answered casually.

"I don't know how long we'll be gone or even where we might end up. And the dangers we'll be facing are--"

"Giles! I'm there, don't worry!"

Giles turned his attention to the other person in the room, "Cordelia?"

She had been deeply immersed in her own thoughts as she tried to figure out the cause of the sensation that ebbed and flowed with the conversation between the other two. It was just now beginning to fade away as she tried to mentally grasp at it, not hearing Giles the first time.

"Cordelia!"

"Hmm?" She brought her head up sharply. "Yes, Giles?"

"It's only been a few days, and I know things must still be terribly confusing and traumatic, but I have to ask you. Do you know what you want to do at this point?"

The last few days had indeed been very difficult for her. She was still getting used to living as a free person again, finally out from under the mental imprisonment of Jasmine, which in her personal time line was still in the very recent past. She hadn't called Angel or Lorne yet, her present grief being difficult enough to handle without the reminders of lost family those conversations would engender. She wasn't even sure when she would call them. Thinking about the future just caused her to feel how empty it was going to be with so much lost family and friends, Xander and Giles not withstanding.

"I've been trying not to think about that too much," Cordelia admitted with a sad smile.

Giles chuckled sympathetically. "I think I can understand that. Still, would you like us to send you back to the United States? You won't have to be involved in any of this. Or us."

"I--", the fading sensation suddenly strengthened and morphed into something almost unpleasant at the thought of returning home. "I...don't think so." As she said that the unpleasantness dissipated. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Perhaps somewhere in Europe, then? Or elsewhere?"

"No." she replied. "I think I would like to stay here with you. If you don't mind?"

"Of course not. There is lots of work to be done around here. Or you could just relax and enjoy our hospitality. We will make funds available to you and you can stay as long or as short as you like."

"What about going on this expedition thingy?"

Giles was a bit surprised, Xander much more so in a disapproving sort of way and said, "I don't think that's a good idea, Cordy. Jumping right back into the fire so soon..."

"I think I need to be doing this," Cordelia said with an almost doubtful shake of her head. As soon as she said that the odd feeling changed again and became more concentrated, becoming a crystalline sense of purpose that she must go to the Well.

"Cordy, this is really not something you need to be involved with," Xander protested.

Cordelia couldn't adequately explain to herself what had been happening to just now, and certainly wouldn't be able to explain it to Giles or Xander, and so didn't even try. But she knew with an absolutely certainty that she had to go.

"I'm going."

"Cordy--"

"Shove it, Xander!" There was fire in her eyes as she locked gazes with Xander, daring him to make any more objections. He opened his mouth to make another protest, biting it back when Cordelia arched her eyebrow in challenge. "Besides," she smirked, "you need someone to watch your back. And I'm good in a fight, you said so yourself."

Xander continued to express his doubts as they huddled together and drew up a more detailed plan.

---

Later that evening Giles spotted Cordelia walking outside, near the gardens behind the Council house. At that moment Xander was engaged with the weapons people in the basement--the "Q" department as Xander liked to call them--and Giles very much wanted to speak with Cordelia alone and away from Xander.

He quickly made his way out of the office, through the confining hallways and steep stairs in time to catch Cordelia already on her way back in. He angled over to intercept her.

"Cordelia, might I have word with you? Just for a few moments?"

"Of course, Giles," she smiled in greeting.

Giles extended his hand back in the direction of the gardens, indicating a path between some rose bushes, "Let's walk for a bit, shall we? It can get rather stuffy inside and I suddenly feel the need for some fresh air." Having said that Giles then remained silent while they made their way along the path and away from the house. Cordelia quirked her eyebrow in curiosity, wondering why he wanted to talk to her now, but waited for Giles to find his own time to speak.

When they reached a bench he sat down and patted the spot next to him, bidding her do the same. While looking back at the old brick structure Giles leaned back and clasped his hands around his upraised knee. "I'm very pleased you want to go, Cordelia."

"Oh?" Cordelia noted that he'd waited until they were well out of earshot of anyone who might be strolling around the house. She noted their location gave them an expansive view of the estate and would easily allow them to see if anyone was nearby or approaching.

"You may have only been teasing Xander, but you were more right than you might have guessed."

"About what?" she asked.

Giles squinted his eyes and looked away again into the bright horizon, uncertainly scuffing his shoe across the flagstone. "Did Xander ever tell you what he was doing in Africa?" he softly asked, still gazing at nothing.

"He mentioned it. He was finding all those new slayers Willow's spell created; helping to train them, introducing them to 'The Force'," she borrowed Xander's euphemism, "that sort of thing. He didn't go into a lot of detail. I got the impression it was a little rough at times, but overall things were pretty good."

"Yes. Yes, that was his assignment. And he performed brilliantly. Far better than anybody expected. He was almost always successful finding the new slayer, and then convincing them of their true destiny, showing them how to deal with the inherit problems. He's helped train many, and many of them have been here. Some are here right now, in fact, finishing up their training."

"So what's the problem? I assume you're heaping all this praise on the big dork because you have a big 'but' coming right after."

"Because I don't think that was the real reason he was there. I mean, that was our reason for agreeing to send him there, but I don't believe that was his reason for wanting to go there. I think what he was really doing was, was..."

"What?" she said irritably, suddenly impatient with all of Giles' careful and polite circumlocutions.

He paused as he drew in a deep breath, marshaling his words. "I think he was committing suicide."

A stunned silence fell between them as Cordelia tried to process what she thought Giles had just said. "What!" Cordelia gasped loudly. "No, no way! Not Xander! He's...he's..."

Giles made calming gesture with his hands, as if trying to deny what he'd just said. "Alright, that's perhaps a bit of an overstatement."

"Ya' think?" she snapped back sarcastically.

"But not much of one, I fear. I am also certain he would never admit to such a thing. It's very likely he doesn't even realize it himself, not at any conscious level anyway." He turned to look directly at Cordelia, making sure he had her complete attention. "But at some very real level I think that's what he was doing."

After her initial outburst Cordelia was speechless, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.

"Over and over he would throw himself into the most highly dangerous situations, situations where even a troupe of slayers shouldn't go. We told him again and again to back off, that it wasn't worth it, or that we could get to it later. But he ignored us. We'd threaten to cut off his funding; he didn't care. How he's survived I'll never know. His usual dumb luck, I suppose." shrugging his shoulders. "You no doubt have noticed he's picked up a few more injuries since you last saw him?"

She waved her hand across the right side of her face and down her shoulder.

"Yes. We had just located a new slayer, in a remote area in Chad. With the preliminary information we gave him he began to look for her while we cross-referenced the location with current affairs. It turned out a very nasty civil dispute was flaring up in the area. We informed Xander to stay away, wait till things had calmed down, that as an obvious outsider he was going to be a target.

"He ignored us. He went in, found the girl, convinced her to come with him, and they headed out. As they passed through a crossroads they got caught in a firefight. Grenades and mortars dropped on the village. He was caught near one of the explosions while shielding the girl. The doctors at the hospital tell us he's very lucky to have survived."

"Oh," was all Cordelia could say.

"We have other reports, usually from the girls he was finding, similar to that, though not always with such dire results. In trying to keep the new slayer safe during training he took on demons he had no business fighting. We were only able to pull him out when we lied and told him there were no more girls to be found." He paused and looked at Cordelia before asking his next questions. "Did you know we didn't tell him about your 'death' until after he'd gotten back?"

"He said something about that. He's still pretty ticked off!"

"We had good reason. I am sure," Giles emphatically slashed his arm to drive the point home, "that if he'd found out while he was down there, he would have found some way to make sure his luck ran out. I am absolutely certain of that. We couldn't risk it." Cordelia glanced up at Giles at that moment. "I couldn't risk it."

She nodded her head thoughtfully, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. She noted the care-worn features, the long-since graying hair, worry lines creasing his forehead. She had seen him be one of the fiercest and vicious people she'd ever laid eyes on when the occasion demanded. But she most often saw him as one of the kindest and most caring persons she'd ever met. She looked at him again in the diminishing sunlight, and the first word that came to mind was "Father".

"You love him, don't you?" putting words to her revelation.

Eyes widening in brief surprise, Giles stammered "I-I-," before turning away and considering more carefully, then turning back, "Yes. Yes, I suppose I do. I love all of you, really. And I know you've all been through such difficult times, having to grow up so fact, yourself especially. And every time one of you gets hurt Xander takes on the guilt. He takes risks so that others don't, even the ones who should be taking the risks. But he doesn't let on how he's doing, he keeps it well hidden. It's changing him, Cordelia. He's very cold and distant to most people, except the slayers he's brought out. He's become extremely autocratic, harsh and overbearing when he thinks someone is needlessly taking foolish risks. He can be quite unpleasant at times. But he never applies that standard to himself."

Cordelia took one of Giles' hands in hers, "I'm glad you told me, Giles. It explains a lot. But what has it got to do with me going tomorrow?"

"I need someone to...watch his back. To watch him. Someone who knows him, knows what to look for. Someone that can be trusted in a fight or in tough spot."

"And you think that's me?"

"I can't think of anyone better." He gave her a quick, confident smile. "I don't think you can be aware of everything that happened the other day. The Xander that walked into my office, holding your hand, was not the same Xander who left here several days before. I've never seen him so giddy, for lack of a better word." Giles gave a small embarrassed smile.

"That was giddy!" she exclaimed.

"Compared to how he was before." He let that thought hang in the air for a few moments while she looked down and nibbled on her lip. "But let me warn you. He will try to prevent you from going."

"As if!" she gave a dismissive snort.

"I'm quite serious, Cordelia. Don't brush it off so easily. He can make it happen if he sets his mind to it."

"But you're the boss. Just tell him to let me come."

"I am, and I have. But this council does not operate how you might think it does. As Head Watcher I'm almost more of a figurehead in terms of actual authority. I can suggest things. I have considerable influence when persuading people. A few I can even order about. But not the slayers. Xander commands their respect and loyalty, especially the ones he had a direct hand in locating and training. If he tells them you're not going they will listen to him and, more likely than not, do what he says. No, you need to convince Xander himself."

She nodded her head thoughtfully.

Giles stood and gestured for her to stand as well. "Let's go back now."

They continued to talk as they slowly made their way back to the house.

---

Cordelia didn't know what had caused her to wake up, a sound from outside perhaps, but she had been sleeping only fitfully and didn't mind too much the wakefulness. She stared around the dark apartment, straining to hear the sound again. Cordelia swung her head around in response to a muffled clinking noise coming from the flat's small patio. She noticed a movement of black-gray shadows across the partially open drapes. Slipping on the robe she had recently purchased she lifted herself out of bed and padded toward the open door.

She saw Xander there, just outside the open doors of the patio, a dark nebulous shadow-on-shadow shape. He was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning back against the door sill, with crossed legs stretched out all the way, his bare feet propped up on the patio railing.

In the dim moonlight he appeared to be wearing a ratty but comfortable looking tee-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. Steadying it with one hand, he balanced a bottle of half-consumed beer on his stomach.

One of the floorboards creaked when she shifted slightly to get a better view. Xander slowly turned his head from gazing out at the sky when he heard the noise behind him. "Hey, Cordy," he greeted softly, "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," and turned back to counting the stars or whatever he was doing before.

Cordelia shook her head, "No, that's okay, I was a little restless anyway." She glanced back at the digital clock and saw it was after two in the morning. "What are you doing up?"

"I like the quiet sometimes," he answered in a whisper, dropping his eye from the sky to the label on the bottle he held.

He had spoken so low she wasn't sure if she heard it right. It felt like he had rebuked her for disturbing him and was a little hurt by that. "Uh, I'll, uh...I'll just go back now."

As she was turning to leave he reached up and took her hand, "And I can like it just as much with you here." The rough warmth of his hand sent a shiver up her arm. She stopped, not sure what to do.

"It's okay if stay?"

"Yeah."

She went inside to retrieve another chair and placed it near him at an angle so she could easily see him by turning her head slightly. Xander watched as she set and positioned the chair on his blind side but then looked away after she sat, feeling if not actually seeing her presence.

When he didn't offer any more comment she looked out at the scene before her. She quickly realized it was a fantastically beautiful night, almost magical in the non-threatening way. The recent rains had cleaned the air, leaving a cool crisp clarity underlying the lingering springtime warmth. The nearly full moon illuminated the neighboring townhouses, homes and backyard gardens in shades of silver and charcoal and diamond sharp black shadows.

They sat that way in the quiet, only hearing each other breathing in the stillness, or the occasional creaks of the chairs as they shifted.

He knew she was still grieving for her lost friends, though by now--just a few days later--she appeared to be dealing with it remarkably well. That first day he'd done what he could to console her, mostly just a shoulder to cry on, later offering her sympathetic words. Yesterday he'd kept his promise to take her on a shopping trip to London, though he had refused to drive to and in London on the reasonable claim that roundabouts were purest evil on Earth. He had compromised by making them take the train.

Unconsciously he smiled as he remembered how Cordelia was virtually bouncing out of her shoes in child-like anticipation when the big black taxi arrived in front of Harrods. She jittered next to Xander in the entranceway while he fished out his wallet, withdrew a credit card, and made a big flowery display of presenting it before her. He told her of its wondrous magical abilities: "This here," he solemnly intoned, "is a Council credit card with virtually no limit." His severe expression immediately changed to a huge flashing smile, and with a twinkle in his eye he nodded toward the interior of the store, "Go nuts!"

She did.

It was a very tired but a very happy Cordelia, and an even more exhausted and grumbling Xander, who made their way back to his flat without incident other than Xander's occasional stumble under the weight of purchases.

The memories of her over the last few days flowed before his mind's eye in the few seconds they sat silent. Her grief and her sorrow, her joy and happiness. He realized at that moment the world was more complete with her presence, a far better place than it was before. He was somehow more complete with her presence, whether or not she was physically near him. The unexpected realization of Cordelia's necessity hit him like a vampire's punch. At the same time it was a burden lifted from him. He knew he would not, in fact could not, allow harm to her anymore.

Xander arrived at a decision.

"I don't want you going," he announced into the darkness.

She had strongly suspected this showdown was coming and was ready for it, although she had originally planned on having it out with him later in the morning. After her conversation with Giles she believed she had a grasp on what Xander's motives were, but she needed to draw it out of him and confront it head on.

"Really? And just how are you going to stop me?" challenging him.

"Kinda simple. I say something like 'Cordelia, you're not going'. See?"

"That simple, huh?"

"Pretty much," he answered with a firm and decisive nod, still not having looked at her since his pronouncement.

"And you expect me to just agree?"

"Pretty much. Your agreement isn't actually required."

"This is just a little trip to a big hole in the ground." She decided to first try being reasonable and arguing her case on its own merits. "What's the big deal? We've got a whole gang of slayers to babysit us. And I can take care of myself. You know that."

He merely snorted, dismissing her arguments out of hand.

Even though she believed she understood his motives she still had to make a great effort to squelch her rising anger at his casual presumption that he could order her around.

"I am going. You know I can handle it."

"So what if you can? It's not necessary for you to go and so you're not."

She decided to try another tack. "Look, Xander, I have this feeling, this absolute certain sense, like a message, that tells me I need to go. That you need me."

"Another mind message from the Powers?" he asked derisively.

"Could be."

"Yeah, and you shouldn't ignore it 'cause they're just so trustworthy."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I just know I'm going." She said with firm determination. This only drew another dismissive snort from Xander.

"What's this really all about, Xander? You haven't given me one good reason I shouldn't go."

He didn't answer right away, like the question had never been asked. They sat in the turbulent silence of their simmering emotions. The tension between them was becoming palpable. Xander rolled the bottle between his flat palms, his shoulder muscles bunching.

"It's not about anything except... you not going," he eventually stated.

Recalling something Giles had told her, Cordelia made an insightful guess and broached a new topic.

"Tell me about Anya."

His head snapped around to face her, thrown by the unexpected shift in conversation. Then he turned slowly away to look back out at the sky once more. "Not a lot to tell," he answered her in a monotone voice devoid of any remotely human emotion, "We were together for awhile. I proposed. I left her at the alter. She died." He raised the bottle to his lips and took a quick swallow.

Cordelia's anger flared up again at his non-answer. "Xander! You spent four years with the girl. You nearly married her. Don't you dare tell me there's not a lot to tell!"

His own ire rose in response, "I'm fairly sure you really don't want to hear about my so-called relationship with Anya. I'm also damn sure I don't want to tell you."

Once more he glanced her way, noticing faint speckles of starlight glinting off her eyes. It startled him to see just how genuinely angry she was with him. He sighed. In a more placating tone he continued, "This is not a good idea, Cordy. I think you should drop it. Now."

"Drop what! That it's been two years and you've barely shed a tear. That you've marched on as if nothing ever happened? That you've already started to dig your own grave?"

Quickly twisting to face her, he nearly screamed, "How do you know that! Dammit, how can you know?"

"Giles told me."

He slumped back into his seat. "Pompous asshole should mind his own business," he said grumpily.

"He's worried about you. He cares about you. And that makes it his business. I care about you and that makes it my business," she softly informed him. Then she switched tactics and demanded, "So spill, mister."

"I said drop it!" he growled, menacing.

"You loved her?" she pressed.

He refused to answer and she prodded again, "Well? Did you?"

"Cordelia, I sa--"

"Did you!"

"Yes!" he exploded, "Yes, I loved her! Are you happy now! I loved Anya. I loved her so much it's tearing me apart." He brought the chair down with a thump and stood, tapping on his chest, "I have this hole, this ache, this-this screaming empty nothingness inside me. And it hurts! Oh God, it hurts so goddamn much. Every morning I wake up and I look over and she's not there. And it screams at me! Do you know why it screams? Do you see what my love got her!"

"Xander--"

"It got her dead! That's what I did to her. Oh," he flung his arm out carelessly, sloshing beer across the patio, "but not before I could crush her heart first. Destroy her happiest day." He looked down at the bottle in his hands with disgust and suddenly hauled back and threw it against the far wall of the patio, watching it shatter in a resounding crash of foam and pieces of brown glass.

"Oh no! No, I had to fuck over her life first," punching the air to emphasize the point. "Then I got her dead, buried in a pile of rubble. And hey, not too much different from another girl I once loved, only you lived so you could get soul-raped by a higher being and then die just a little bit later!"

She blinked, "Xand--" She was unable to break through his unrelenting tirade of emotions.

"And now you want to go on this stupid trip and get dead again!" He forced himself to calm down somewhat. "See, I'm not the Zeppo, Cordelia. I've got a power. I hurt the people I love the most. I even get some of them dead. That's my power! It's best you stay away from me, Cordy. Everyone near me, everyone I care about, I just hurt them, I get them killed! You know it's true. After Anya you're exhibit A. And--"

"You loved me?" Tonight was the first time she had ever heard those words from Xander. All that time with him, so long ago, loving him and never knowing, always wondering, usually doubting, if he loved her back.

"--the gun." He hadn't heard her whispered question and barreled on, "I saw the gun and did nothing! I let him kill Tara! I saw Willow falling into the trap. My best friend in the whole world. I saw it! And I did nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing! Till it was almost too late. And Buffy! When she most needed our support I turned my back on her, ran her off."

After Xander's revelation Cordelia missed some of his raging self-incrimination, only able to latch on to one. "But she's not dead. You saved her and saved the world."

"Saved the world? Hah! I used to believe that once. And maybe there's someone out there that looks and talks like Willow. But it's not MY Willow! It's never been the same since then. Not with her, not with Buffy, not anyone." He suddenly went from a loud shouting voice to a whisper, the strength drawn from his despair and anger vanishing. "And Anya's gone. And then you."

His head dropped into his hands, muffling his next words. "I can't lose any more people, Cordy. It's killing me. You want to go but it's going to get you hurt, or worse. I can't do that again." He looked up at her, his eye glistening in the cold moonlight. "Cordy, can't you see that?" he begged, "I try to help, I really do. But all I ever do is hurt people, kill people. Can't you see that's all I've ever done to you?"

Between her inability to keep up with Xander's insane ranting and the idiocy of his words Cordelia had finally had enough. "Bullshit!"

Xander blinked rapidly for a moment. "What bullshit? You know it's true."

She gave him a hard look for several moments, allowing her anger to build again. "You're a real piece of work, you know that, Alexander Lavelle Harris? You're so goddamn full of yourself, so egotistical, you think you're to blame for everything that goes wrong around you? What, is inflation your fault too? You gonna take the blame for Ishtar and high-heeled sneakers next?"

Strangely exhausted he merely huffed, completely unconvinced.

She allowed herself to calm down as she came over to him slowly, sitting down on the arm of his chair. "I can't speak to everything Xander, only for myself. Xander, that's not all you've ever done to me."

He refused to look at her or even acknowledge that she'd said anything. She pressed on. "Yes, you've hurt me in ways I thought I could never get over at the time. That much is true." She reached down and took his hand in both of hers. "But mostly you were good. Good for me, good to me. You helped me change, to grow up. You showed me how to care, to feel what others feel, to understand what they need. To be brave even when there's no hope. I don't know what I would have become if not for you, but I don't think it's someone I would have liked. And it's not just me. You make the people around you better."

She stopped at that point when Xander turned to her and lifted his free hand to touch her face. Xander looked at her very carefully in the silver light, fascinated by how the shadows emphasized the gentle curve of her cheeks, her eyes invisible in the black pools beneath perfect brows. He watched the slight indentation his fingers made in her silken skin as they traced down her face and onto her neck. He considered everything he knew about her now, and the stories he'd heard about her. With a sharp intake of breath it dawned on him how wrong she was.

"No, Cordelia." He lifted his hand back to her cheek, brushing the skin so gently she could just sense the warmth of the caress but not the actual touch. "I didn't change you." She leaned into his touch imperceptibly, feeling the depth of his care and concern. "I may have been one of the first to recognize it, see you for what you really were, see the special." He lips twisted into a brief small smile, almost gone before it showed. "But it was already there to begin with, always there. Your compassion, your strength. Your courage. You kept it hidden for so long, I think even possibly from yourself, but it was always there. Always."

His let his hand fall away and sighed. "No, Cordelia Catherine Chase, you didn't change. I didn't change you. You grew into what you already were."

"Xander, I..." she was at a loss for words. Both believing him and not believing him she simply didn't know what to say.

"Please, I couldn't stand to see you get hurt, to lose you again. You're here in this world again, in my world again." His tone suddenly became harsh with implacable determination. and you're going to stay that way. And that's why you're not going."

"Just like that?" she smiled.

"Just like that."

"I'm not going to make it that easy for you, Xander."

He sighed deeply, "You never do."


AN: This story, Part 1 being the first fanfic I ever wrote, was born out of frustration. I had been starting to discover the world of fanfic, enjoying the incredible variety of stories and the amazing breadth of people's imaginations. Unfortunately all too often I also discovered the incomplete and abandoned story. Too many good and engaging stories left me hanging, frustrated, wanting to shout out, "But what happens next?"

The first chapter of this story was originally written as an answer to that question, a continuation of one of the stories I had liked most. After a lot of revision and consideration it became its own story, completely divorced from its origins (the scene on the patio, heavily revised, is the sole surviving remnant from that original effort).

I won't name the guilty, I know they have good reasons for their decision to stop writing. But what this means to you, the reader, is this promise: Barring a catastrophe, somehow, someway, though the going may be slow, I will finish any story I start.