About fifteen minutes later, the big war council had broken up, though nothing more had been decided. A lot of the people involved needed to eat and take care of other mortal necessities, and Virginia had poked her head in to mention that the morning twilight had started to break, making it more hazardous for Spike or myself to venture outside. Soon, unless the day turned especially stormy or there was an unscheduled solar eclipse, it would be impossible for the length of the day.
"Are you sure that Wesley's the only person who could have the information you need?" I asked Illyria. She had never needed to eat, and I was alright without drinking more blood for a while, though I could probably do with a pick-me-up considering how much effort I had expended over the past several hours. I hadn't quite gotten up the nerve to ask Virginia if she had any pig's blood or the like handy, though, and was kind of counting on Spike paving the way for me. (Though it occured to me at that very moment that if there was only a little available, he would probably take it all without any consideration of my needs.)
"Undoubtedly there would be many who would possess it, probably even some in the Los Angeles area," Illyria told me. "Even possibly an individual who would be inclined to help us, though such knowledge seems to be more frequently gained by those with sinister motives in your modern world. The problem would be how to find such a person, with limited time."
"There's another option," Willow said, stepping up to the two of us, a breakfast burrito in one hand and a cafe latte in the other. "Magic might help. Not a full resurrection spell - I don't have the supplies for something like that - not to mention the side-effects and trying to recover Wesley's body... but I know a ritual for summoning back souls that have passed beyond death, as ghosts. It's... a spell of significant power - not to be cast for personal reasons only, but I think this situation would justtify it."
"Hmmm." I considered that. "What are the risks?"
"Nothing too bad," she hastened to assure me. "The clearest disclaimer is that souls you didn't intend may cross over at the same time. There isn't actually a provision in the ritual text to call on a certain person by name, but usually if you have a certain someone in mind, and their spirit is willing to answer, you'll get them." She turned to Illyria. "When Wesley arrives as a ghost, he should be able to merge with you briefly, and then you'll be able to use his experience as if it were your own, to complete the operation on the dimensional gate."
I thought about it. "Okay... let's wait until we've gotten the talisman, and then you can do it."
"I think it'd be better to cast the ritual now," Willow argued. "I've got plenty of power now, I'm not getting any stronger, while later on when things are happening fast I might be hurting for juice. Given the mystical energy that's flooding all of Los Angeles while that gate remains open, Wesley's ghost will probably be able to stick around indefinitely, until our mission is complete."
As I looked into Willow's eyes I realized that there was probably something else that she wasn't saying. Getting the Velerian talisman could be quite dangerous, and there was certainly a chance that someone, even Willow herself maybe, could die. She wanted to make sure that this was done beforehand, so that her passing wouldn't hurt the chances of us being able to pull off this plan more than it had to. While I hoped it wouldn't come to that - her mystic arts would be extremely helpful in the push back to the Hyperion hotel, and of course she was a god friend - I couldn't fault her logic. "Okay - what do we need?"
"Nothing much," Willow said. "A small room - everyone we can round up who actually knew Wesley. The ritual itself is entirely verbal."
"Everyone who knew Wesley," Illyria said. "Beside the three of us, that would be Spike, Gunn, the Bryce woman..."
"Faith, Buffy," I continued. "And... Giles." Rupert Giles was crossing the room to approach us as I said that, I realized. "Rupert?"
Before letting Giles get a word in edgewise, Willow jumped in and quickly told him of the plan to summon up Wesley's ghost. (She always had been something of an excitable girl once she got on a roll... I remember the time she chewed both Giles and myself out for the ways we were mistreating Buffy without realizing it... quite an impressive rant actually.)
"Erm, yes, that does seem a reasonable solution to the problem," Giles finished once she was finally done, "but I'm afraid I will have to recuse myself from the proceedings." Illyria and I started to stare at him at that point. "I'm familiar with the ritual you mention, and... well, I'm aware how sensitive it is to the subconscious thoughts of the participants. I have lost far too many people over the past few years. Dealing with my own ghosts, literally, is a distraction that none of us can afford at this time," he said stiffly.
Lost far too many people. The name 'Jenny Calendar' rang through my mind. Giles' girlfriend - whom my evil alter-ego had taken away from him. I also knew that he had lost many friends in the Watchers when the forces of the First Evil attacked that institution, and only barely survived himself.
"I, uh - I came over to discuss the trap that we will have to lay for a Velerian sorcerer," Giles continued. "It occurred to me that if Wolfram and Hart believe that they have found your hiding place, Angel, but that it is protected by a metolytic protective dome, a Velerian sorcerer may be the easiest way of breaking through that defensive field - even if they have to go to considerable lengths to find such a sorcerer."
"We can go and set up a trap somewhere, and I can create the protective dome!" Willow filled in. "Although I'll need to let it drop before the sorcerer actually has a chance to start hammering away at it... would be bad for me and bad for the talisman. Good idea, Giles. We'll just do the ghost spell, and then get on that." Giles smiled, nodded, and backed away.
"Maybe we shouldn't ask Buffy to take part either," Willow decided. "She doesn't know Wesley that well, and wasn't on the best of terms with him - it could be a source of bad energy, which is never helpful. What about Virginia?"
"It was several years ago, but I think they were quite close," I said, weighing it in my mind. "I think we'd be better off with her than without."
"Okay, I'll try to round up everyone else and you can ask her," Willow said, bustling off. Illyria raised an eyebrow and stayed where she was, turning to explore the wall in exhaustive and minute detail.
When I found Virginia, she was talking with Spike and hailed me down. "There's a new development," she said quickly. "Apparently a remarkably thick smoke bomb of some sort was just detonated high over Los Angeles. Nobody seems to know much, but it looks as if the dust and cloud won't dissipate for perhaps two days, and almost no sunlight will get through."
"Wolfram and Hart," Spike said. "Protecting their own asses... making sure that these knights of Soron and ninja vampires and everyone else who can't handle the sunlight doesn't have to take cover. For two days, it's the next best thing to eternal night."
"I don't think it's all about their people," I said after a moment. "I know Lilah Morgan, and this just stinks of her kind of arrogance. For the most part, she's doing it for our benefit. Yours and mine, Spike. She wants to make sure that we have full mobility, even while the sun is up."
"But why?" Virginia asked.
"Because it's no fun if I'm at a disadvantage," I said. "It's not about winning with her, so much as about beating me."
"Someone sounds full of themselves," Spike jibed.
I let it go for the time being. "We're doing a ritual to call forth Wesley's spirit. Willow wants both of you there, since you both knew him."
"Where?" Spike asked.
#
We ended up doing the ritual in a small room in the sanctuary that I hadn't seen before... a spare bedroom, or that was what it had been before Willow got at it. When I first saw it, Willow and Faith were carrying the bed out into the larger lounge that lay just outside. Most of the other furniture had already come out.
I watched as Willow went back in and evaluated it with a critical eye. Two pieces of furniture were still there, sitting against the far wall - a couch and a loveseat. Willow seemed to evaluate the empty space for a moment, and nodded in satisfaction. "That'll be good enough. Come on." All of the intended participants were nearby, and at Willow's direction we stepped into the room, the door was closed, and a wide circle was formed.
"Think only of Wesley, concentrate on him," Willow warned us softly before beginning. "I call upon Hades, the arbiter of the paths of the dead, to lend us his guidance in this time," she called out ringingly. and paused for a moment.
"We are in hiding, hunted by our enemies, and the spirit of he who is dear to us is far away. Unseen by us, he walks the paths of your kingdom. Extend your rod, oh Hades, and guide our friend to us in spirit and in sight!"
There was a soft poof. I looked into the centre of the circle, but Wesley's face (or any part of him,) was very definitely not there.
"Took you long enough to invite us over!" a familiar voice called. Following the sound, I turned about... and there, at the far end of the room, there were people sitting on the furniture. Ever so slightly transparent people, which I guess qualified them as ghosts, if the fact that they had all died didn't.
On the loveseat was Wesley, smiling that relaxed and contented grin that I saw so rarely. His legs were spread wide, allowing Fred to sit mostly in front of him, and his arms were encircling her waist from behind. On the couch, Cordelia Chase sat at one end, her hair dark brown and shoulder length like it was when I first met her in Los Angeles. In the middle of the couch, holding Cordy's hand, was none other than... Allen Francis Doyle!
All of my friends and team members from here in Los Angeles who had passed away... and now they outnumbered the ones who were still with me, come to think of it. It also occurred to me that they were acting very couple-y, which kinda made sense. Each of those pairs had had considerable romantic sparks, only to be interrupted prematurely by the untimely death of one partner. Now all of them were together in death... no reason, assuming that the cosmos allowed it, that they shouldn't be able to pick up where they left off.
"Wait a second," Gunn broke in, staring at one spirit in particular. "They said that you were..."
"Destroyed?" Fred asked in that soft Texas accent. "Consumed? You should know that that isn't possible, Charles. The soul is immortal - which is the same as sayin' that it's indestructible. Why were you takin' the word of a crazy doctor who admitted that he didn't know nothin' about the rise of Illyria anyway?" She smiled shyly.
"I... I guess we weren't thinking straight," I admitted, more than a little overwhelmed. Willow had warned that other souls might answer the call, but to see all of them at once was more than I could handle.
"Though, I kinda get why y'all had to believe that at the time," Fred continued. She was talking more Texan than usual, which generally meant she was feeling nervous. "You were hell-bent on resurrectin' me, and that wasn't the point. Illyria had his... its, her - part to play. I understand that now." And she giggled slightly, as if there were something that she knew that she couldn't tell any of us yet.
"So..." Illyria shook her head, stepping up to Wesley, and making a determined effort to avoid Fred for the moment. "Do you know why we have summoned you here?"
"Yes, and I'd be happy to help," he assured her. "But that can wait until later. Right now, you've got a talisman to steal."
"Okay, this all-knowing ghost thing is kinda starting to get on my nerves," I admitted. "Cordy, Doyle - it's so great to see you guys. You're doing okay I hope?"
"Couldn't be better, now," Doyle said, winking at Cordelia.
"Don't worry, none of us are going anywhere until your mission is done," Cordy assured me. "There'll be time for catching up. Come to think of it, I wanna go on this talisman mission. Could come in handy, having a few ghosts around." She concentrated on a cup that was sitting in a small alcove out of the way, and suddenly it zipped across the room, nearly smacking Gunn on the side of the face, and smashed into the opposite wall, shattering into a few dozen pieces.
"Hey!" Gunn complained.
"Sorry, new to this telekinesis stuff," she said. "Didn't mean for it to go quite that fast."
"Good to have you aboard," I said, looking up towards I-knew-not-what.
"Oh, Will, before I forget," Cordelia added. "I have a message for you."
"A... a message?" Willow repeated, seeming first incredibly confused, then cautiously hopeful.
"Yeah, from a... a Tara McRay? Something like that. Umm, she sends you all her love, emm, and she's sorry that she couldn't make it herself, but you-know-who have her incredibly busy off on the Astral plane."
"Tara?" Willow repeated, "I... I know who? Are you sure that it's really her and not some kind of psychic impostor?"
"Message came with an approved identity seal just as we were leaving to come here," Cordelia replied slowly. "As far as 'you-know-who', that's kind of afterlife code. The forces of good, the powers that be."
"Wow," Willow repeated, a small tear showing at the corner of her eye and the muscles in her jaw trembling slightly. "She's working for them directly, now? Like you guys are?"
"Looks like," Doyle said. "Never met her, to the best of my knowledge, but there are a lot of us."
"You should be proud," Fred chimed in.
"I... I am proud," Willow said in a soft whisper, brushing away the tear, and another one that was forming nearby. "Now let's go make her proud too."
#
There were delays in setting up our trap for a Velerian sorceror of course... Willow had to do some crash research and practice to be sure that she was up for creating a meto-whatzit dome and maintaining it long enough, (and holding it up against anything short of a sorceror that wolfram & hart might throw at it.) Giles and Virginia researched possible locations for our fake 'hideout' in the meantime.
I pulled Illyria aside for a quick chat as soon as I could - something had been nagging at me. I got to the point as quickly as possible: "This plan of yours... convoluting and subverting the gateway - are there any risks to you?"
She was silent for what seemed like a long moment, though it probably wasn't any longer than fifteen seconds. "In my old body, in the old days, there would have been none," she began resentfully.
"And now?" I pressed, my guess already pretty much confirmed.
"They are considerable... though I am unsure of the exact chances."
"Of what nature?" I asked, and then made an attempt to throw away the euphemism of risk analysis. "What might happen to you?"
She shrugged. "Very generally... serious injury, death. Total annihilation. I cannot be more specific - attempting to perform such an operation from a human shell is something that has never been done before." Illyria gazed into my face while I stayed silent.
"But these possibilities only run a slight chance of preventing me from completing this mission."
"Yeah, I get that," I told her. "It's a kamikaze scenario - you may die, but you'll take the Wolfram and Hart army with you." I took a deep breath. "You'll save us all."
"You'll save yourself," she shot right back. "If you can provide the energy that this endeavour will require, and escort me safely to the gateway. I would not be able accomplish those things and carry out the plan by myself."
"Small comfort," I put in.
Illyria ignored that, suddenly lost in her own thoughts. "It has been... strage, to encounter the spirits of Wesley and Winnifed Burkle," she said after a long moment.
"Yeah, I bet," I replied. One was the individual who had been closest to her since she had come forth from the Deeper Well, and the other was the girl whose body her essence had taken over as its vessel.
"That has triggerred questions about whether there will be a continuation after this phase of my existence is complete," She seemed somber... contemplative. "Is there an afterlife for such as myself? I have already slept millenia in the deeper well and wakened in a world not my own - it seems unlikely that a continued existence on some other plane would be more compatible."
"Or maybe I will become one with the rhythms of the cosmos." She cocked her head, considering. "I believe I would appreciate that."
"Then I hope you find it... when the time comes," I told her.
Illyria turned and stared at me as if she had forgotten I was there, and then smiled. "Frankly, I think I would just as soon meet my reckoning now as later, whatever the fate laid out for me should be. I do not understand this world, so full of trials and objectives that seem like only shadows to what I have left behind." She shook her head. "How better than to end it than with a triumph?"
"Hey, you'll get no argument from me," I laughed.
There was an awkward moment, and Illyria seemed to be actually straining for some excuse to leave. "I should... consult with the witch Willow Rosenberg. I have had some experience with metolytic protective fields that may be of assistance to her, though creating them myself is not an ability I have ever developed."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Illyria seemed to be about to say something else, then evidently changed her mind (its mind? So hard to know what pronouns to use in this situation,) without another word. I waited a moment and headed back myself, to get an update from Giles.
I didn't mean to overhear, or to lurk in the shadows. Moving stealthily is just kind of a habit by this point, but I happened to see Buffy going up to Spike without either of them noticing me. It would be hard to say which of the two of us were more surprised when, just as Buffy was about to open her mouth, Spike cut her off. "Don't. Just don't start."
I couldn't quite see her face from where I was, but somehow I knew she blinked quickly in that manner she has. "Why not?"
"Because there's nothing left worth saying, for either of us," he bit back. "You're moving on, you've found His Bastardness, excuse my bitter honesty, and you've fallen for him. But you can't expect me to be happy about the clear revelation that I was nothing more than the middle, so far, of a string of 'lads of the moment' who just happened to be convenient and fit your type. 'Centuries-old vampire with a dark past who might or might not be evil.'"
Buffy seemed to be quite at a loss now, and I was wondering if that was just because she'd missed most of Spike and my chase through Rome, or if there was something about her situation that both of us were missing. "Um, uhh..." But she wasn't really able to head off Spike's rant.
"And you know what else, Miss 'Attain-a-thon'?" He stared fiercely into her eyes, until she shook her head slightly. "I hope you get burnt. I really do." And with that, he stalked off.
"Idiot," I mumbled under my breath, taking another path through the passages of the school myself, so as not to embarass Buffy by letting her realize that I had heard.
#
"Hello there, sir..." I looked up and smiled to see Faith walking towards me. "Mister hot shot big wig CEO, how was your day?" She grinned teasingly at me.
We had set our trap for a Velerian sorcerer in a typical abandoned warehouse. Willow had set up the protective dome in the middle of the gigantic open space, with Spike, Illyria, and Groo. All of the rest of us were up on the catwalks, watching and waiting, protected from mystical observation by a cloaking spell. This warehouse was only about a block ahead of the leading edge of horde activity. It wouldn't be too long before things started to happen.
I pulled my thoughts away from the tactical situation and thought about Faith's question. "Actually, all casual evidence to the contrary, it's been a better day than any other for a year."
"I get that," Faith replied. "Fighting the good fight, making a difference. Getting the blood pumping in your veins... among other places." She looked down pointedly, and I realized that I was still carrying a plain black mug about one quarter filled with cow's blood. Took another sip.
"You done good, brother," Faith continued, surprising me. "That road to redemption that you're always talking about... the road you helped me find. Looks to me like you've only got a few more steps to go."
"I'm not so sure about that," I protested. "Doesn't seem like I've gotten very far at all. And it's not the kind of road that just ends."
"We'll see," Faith shrugged that one off.
"So, what about you?" I continued. "What have you been up to since the hellmouth went crashing down?"
"Oh, I keep busy," Faith said with a soft laugh. "I've started patrolling the hellmouth mark 2 actually. That's in Cleveland, by the way."
"Yeah, I've heard."
"Got a cool pad, a bit of a day job at the Y W... secret identity, the whole nine yards." She chuckled again. "A few slayers of the next generation to look after - I can't handle the whole schoolmistress watcher deal, but if there are any girls who just need to be shown how to take care of themselves in a fight, they can send them to me."
"I bet," I agreed with a smile.
"And, well, there's a guy in the picture," she added cagily after a moment. "We got a bit of an unusual deal... you know me and the L word - or the C word..."
"Pretty much."
Gentleman friend? Never thought I'd hear Faith say that phrase... boy toy, yes, more than once, but... "Gentleman friend?"
"...but we hang out, and have fun, and kill a lot of nasty creatures together," Faith finished. "Spike might have mentioned him, actually, they were both in Sunnydale around the same time. Robin Wood? Friend of Buffy's... platonic, mostly - orphaned son of a Slayer from the 70s?"
"Umm, yes, actually." Spike hadn't had much good to say about him, but I didn't see any reason to point that out. "So you like him, huh?"
"Yeah, yeah, he has his moments," she agreed.
"Then I'm happy for you," I told her. "By the way... um, do you know what's been going on with Dana since she left LA? I'm not sure whether to go over and say hi or, you know, keep my distance in case she gets confused again and attacks me."
Faith made a face. "Umm, to be honest, I didn't even know that she's been here before. New 'cruit, joined the team just a few months ago... she made the rounds with pretty much all of the original crew, except for Xander... Willow, Giles, then Buffy."
"Okay," I nodded. "Did you hear anything about... well, she was in a mental asylum. They were trying to keep her restrained in there after she got her full Slayer powers."
"Oh." Faith absorbed this. "No, I thought I was the only Chosen one who ever went off the deep end... joking, I know it's not quite the same deal."
I paused and changed the subject slightly. "What about the last one? I mean, what's she doing here, why's she risking her neck to save us? I don't think she's ever met any of my crew before - does she have relatives here in Los Angeles?"
"Kennedy? No, she's here because of Willow. Protective-like. Willow was bound and determined to come, so Kennedy is here to back her up... Did you hear that?"
I hadn't, (so much for heightened vampire senses,) but when I actually started to listen there was no mistaking the sound. A thunderous banging on the warehouse wall, about forty feet down from the doors. Were these monsters so dumb that they'd bash their way in before even looking for a door? (Then again, going in by the front door can be a good way to walk into an ambush.)
Sure enough, soon a huge opening had been beaten out of the solid bricks, and a pack of trolls started to spread out around the warehouse floor, while a pair of ogres waited menacingly just inside. It didn't take the trolls long to find the dome... they peered and prodded at it, punched and body-blocked it without results. One even jumped onto it and started scampering up the rough side, which apparently was crossing a line - the dome reacted with a furious jolt of force that sent the poor individual flying.
Quickly a few trolls were left to stand watch while everyone else left... presumably to report this phenomenon to a higher-up. Faith excused herself and left to talk to someone else.
I looked down the catwalk the other way, and saw Mattasee, Virginia's student, the young demon. He had volunteered to join us in the field for this part of the mission, though he didn't seem quite sure why he cared so much. At the time, I hadn't asked many questions, knowing that going up against one of these Velerian sorcerers we could use all the majikal know-how we could get.
"Umm... Mattasee. You'll let me know as soon as you sense anyone with majikal powers approaching the building?" I started, a little awkwardly.
"Ermm..." He, also, flicked a glance at the mug in my hand, and in frustration I drained it and set it aside. "Yes, yes, of course."
"Thanks," I said. There was a bit of an awkward silence. "So... how did you end up studying with Miss Bryce? I don't... I don't even know very much about the Vegrar people, except that you're generally not terribly aggressive."
He smiled at me, but I wasn't quite sure what emotion lay underneath that smile. "Well, I grew up in a 'kalbos', a traditional Vegrar... I suppose you could call it a family unit, with a little bit of a stretch. Two adult males, two adult females, seven offspring total, including me. It was a strict kalbos, which means that the offspring never leave, never see anyone but their broodmates and the adults of the kalbos, until they reach their maturity at 400 lunar cycles."
"That's... " I did a little mental math. "Thirty-four years?"
"More like thirty-two actually. I didn't quite reach maturity in the kalbos, though. One of the mothers was an enchantress, and started teaching me majik as well as the usual disciplines of combigeometry, algebrulus, quasibiology and socioeconomics." He took a deep breath. "She overdosed on dark wizardry and destroyed the kalbos nest, killing many of its members. I escaped, but for many - years - I struggled with the lure of black magic myself. An acquaintance of mine on the street, a human, joined Virginia's program - I'm not sure how, and he sought me out. At first I didn't want to enlist; I found her strict philosophy much too confining. But after very nearly getting myself on the hit list of the Fell brethren, I realized that I needed a bit more structure in my existence. Miss Bryce has been amazing to me."
"And you seem to be doing well with the white wizardry," I remarked. "Just how much can you do?"
He shrugged humbly. "My specialty is divinatory and information magic, though I've been branching out into constructive alchemy. I should have a few surp... Oh, hello? Who do you want to talk to, me or him?"
I turned about to see the ghost of Doyle waiting patiently. "Actually, I'm carrying a message for you, young sir. Miss Rosenberg said that she wanted to talk to you through the dome."
"Oh, of course." He nodded at me. "If you'll excuse me?"
"Umm, just a second," I said, frowning. "Through the dome, as in, just on either side? Because, well, forgive me for stating the obvious, but you can't leave the cloaked area up here on the catwalks."
"Oh, no, not like that," Matt assured me. "I'll stay in the cloak... the witch and I agreed on one small 'channel' for conferences and this sort of thing. There's a spot on a particular catwalk... technically the cloak is weakened slightly there, though it's still just about impossible to notice unless you're looking from the right 'angle.'"
"Which is the one leading directly away from the dome," I guessed. "Okay. Just wanted to be clear on that." Mattasee turned around and left, and I turned to Doyle; after a few seconds I burst out into nervous laughter. "I'm sorry, man, it's just so weird to see you there... and to see through you, ever so slightly. Everyone else I've only lost a few months ago at most, but you..."
"I know, man," Doyle agreed with a cheerful smile. "S'been too long. But I gotta tell you, friend - I couldn't be more proud of you. Sure, you've made a few mis-steps along the way, but who doesn't? I - well, in a way I think that I was the one who got you started on this great adventure..."
"You were," I agreed softly.
"And I think that I'll be here to see the end of it."
"I'm not so sure," I countered, shaking my head. "I'm not dead. And if Illyria's plan works, then it isn't the end of anything."
"I think it will be," Doyle insisted firmly. "And the beginning of something entirely different. I know that I only got to know you for a few months, but to everything there is a season. It was my time to pass on."
"Will you guys stop doing that?" I asked with a grin. "Going on and on about how everything's 'meant to be.' It's really annoying."
"Sorry man, but it's a little hard to get where I've been and not feel that way. If I could only tell you some of the things that I've done, the places that I've seen... but regs don't allow for it." He sobered. "I know that it was harder for you an' Cordy, being the ones left behind, but you came to terms with the fact that I'd gone in good time."
"I think about that," I blurted out. "Not coming to terms with other people's deaths, but the afterlife itself. I've been dead at least once, and from what I understand, when I accidentally revoked the curse in Sunnydale, my soul would have reverted to the great beyond again."
"I think that's right," Doyle agreed. "Can't say for sure, but..."
"Then why don't I remember anything about it?" I asked. "Not peace and paradise, not torture and torment, not even timeless waiting in some dreary purgatory. I have no recollections of either of those periods, except for the memories of... of the soul-less vampire."
"I think you're a special case, man," Doyle assured me. "Memory's a bit of a tricky thing with souls in the afterlife, or at least it's very different from mortal memory. Getting re-joined to a vampire body that's been active and aware the whole time - it probably wipes out or represses your soul memory." He shook his head. "Try not to worry about it, man."
"I'll second that," Cordy said, whooshing straight through me to take Doyle's arm. "You always did brood too much."
I smiled at both of them. "So tell me. Are you guys really... you know, a couple now?"
"Yeah, yeah," Cordy agreed, turning to look into Doyle's face. Doyle just grinned like an idiot.
"It's kinda weird, I have to admit," I mentioned. "Thinking about people... you know, dating up there. It is 'up', right?"
"Not physically up, but symbolically," Doyle assured me. "As far as romance... well, in a lot of ways it's like this world. Just... you know..."
"Better!" Cordy finished his thought, making one of her cute faces.
I laughed. "What about Wesley and Fred?"
"Well, bear in mind that he's only been deceased a few hours," Doyle started. "Sometimes time passes much more quickly for us, but this hasn't been one of those. They're both still getting used to him being..."
"...On the other hand, they were dating when she died," Cordelia pointed out. "Somehow I doubt that things won't go the same way again."
"I'm happy for them," I said, and then spotted someone off on an intersecting catwalk. "Excuse me - I really want to talk to you guys more later, but..."
"Go right ahead," Doyle insisted, and I hurried past them.
"Can I have a word?" I asked softly when I caught up with Buffy.
She just stood there for a moment, looking at me, and then nodded. "Umm... how about over there?" Over at one end of one of the catwalks nearby was a small, mostly enclosed metal box, just big enough for a few people to sit in. "Are you gonna throw a hissy fit too?" she asked as soon as I had stepped inside.
I paused just a moment, then tried to relax as I sat down. "Actually, nope." Decided to not dance around the subject of what I'd heard. "Seeing Spike play the drama queen card made me realize that I really don't want to do it too." A smiled, and she nodded in acceptance. "I do have a few questions though."
Buffy shook her head. "Maybe it'd be better if I try to explain some things first... it's a confusing and embarassing situation. Okay, um, the Immortal." She took a deep breath. "At some point, after realizing that I'd moved into 'his town', the Immortal decided that he desired me." She put a shadow of a bass rumble on the emphasized word, and shook her head in near disbelief. "Came up with a heck of an opening gambit too, in the form of some unsolicited assistance. On a case involving a deadly cult of chaos worshippers and a set of manuscripts detailing the activities of vampire slayers over three thousand years ago."
I thought about the way he had gotten involved in the capo caper, without even asking. "Yeah, that seems to be a favorite move of his lately, just butting in helpfully."
"Well, anyway, I kinda wanted to find out more about him, once he involved himself in my business. Just to kind of figure him out, see what his motives were. And to try to guess if he would get all furious and take it out on other Slayers if I rejected him. So the obvious ploy was to..."
"To let him think he was courting you," I said, seeing it, and kicking myself mentally. "And did you realize that you were also letting three quarters of Rome think that the two of you were an item?"
"To be honest, it was a while before I even realized that they cared," Buffy admitted. "Still used to America, where people won't even let themselves believe that a vampire slayer exists, let alone make her a quasi-celebrity. But things are different in Europe, and the Italians apparently love to gossip even more than high school girls."
"So, umm... I've put an end to the gambit, or at least I hope I have. Didn't reject him outright, but extricated myself as well as I could with flattery... his world is so mysterious and dangerous, but I'm not sure I'm ready for it... that I don't trust myself around his incredible charisma and obvious prowess, yadda yadda yah. Hopefully that'll buy me a little time to think of a new angle at least. Oh, and he mentioned that the two of you were in town after you'd left, and bragged about the whole Darla/Drusilla thing. Frankly, that's the point where I'd realized I'd learned all I needed to know, and where I got the idea for how to get rid of him a while."
"Okay..." I was starting to put things together, and still not quite sure of how one thing added up. "So Andrew just heard the gossip around town about you and the Immortal, and bought into it?"
"Andrew lives in a world of his own that has very little to do with what the rest of us consider to be reality," Buffy said flatly. "It started with the gossip, but no matter what I said to him about the situation, he just took that as further confirmation that I was 'in love,' sheesh! By the way, I'm sorry that you had to deal with him about the whole Dana situation, but he was the best field agent we had who could get to Los Angeles in time." She paused for a beat. "We need more field agents."
"It's alright," I assured her, then thought I might try to tease gently. "And the dozen Slayers you sent him as backup?"
"Were not meant for a power play against you," she hastily pointed out, "not that I exactly chewed him out for the way things went down there. I got as many Slayers as I could down to LA because I thought that they'd be good for trying to track down Dana, sympathizing with her... and if necessary, subduing her. Having been through some of the same stuff themselves, you know. But I couldn't allow you to keep custody of her, not that I don't have faith in the good intentions of you and all of your own team..."
"Um, well, what then?"
Buffy paused momentarily, her face expressive in her moment of lethologica. "Well, you guys already had quite a lot on your plate, right? You wouldn't be able to take care of her by yourself; you'd be handing her over to specialist with 'the firm.' And I had no way of being sure that she wouldn't fall into the wrong hands from there... gotta be a bunch of clients and employees of Wolfram and Hart who would love to have access to an unstable Slayer... to turn her strength to dark purposes."
"Hmm... I guess I hadn't really thought of it that way," I admitted. "And I'm glad that Dana seems to be doing better."
"Yeah, she is. Still has a bit of a loopy anger thing going on inside her head, but she only lets it out when it's time to pound on the bad guys. And yes, her teachers have paid extra care to identifying bad guys and telling them apart from scary but good guys."
"Well, we all make a few mistakes on that score," I admitted. "Not that it's any of my business, but I'm sorry that Spike's being such a pain in the ass about the whole thing."
"Well, I can't imagine you're too broken up about the fact that you're looking pretty good by comparison," Buffy teased.
"Umm... not exactly, but it's actually not all about competition over you, when it comes to Spike and me. The past little while, oh, for cripe's sake we've actually bonded as partners. I kinda respect him, and whatever you and he had, and I don't really want to see him throw it away over a misunderstanding!"
The shock on Buffy's face was quite obvious. "Well, there's no way I can stop you from saying something to him about it, I guess. Give him a fair chance to try and set things right, make up a portion of what he lost with that blunder." She paused. "Speaking of making up for blunders, well... about the whole Fred/Illyria thing."
Ahh. "Yeah, go on?"
"I've gathered that the ending is considered to be water under the bridge, but I can't help but think that our side still has some apologies to make over the way that things were handled."
I started to protest, then dropped it and nodded. I was still a little upset about that myself, to be honest.
"Some of the responsibility is mine. As I'm sure you've realized, all of us who knew you were very... concerned when we found out about the deal you'd taken with Wolfram and Hart. Not that anybody doubted that your heart was in the right place..."
"It is, but it's just kinda sitting there and not doing much," I broke in. Buffy shot me an annoyed look. "Not really the right time for vampire humor?"
"No." Buffy shook her head and tried to find a place to continue. "But the only reason we could see that they'd have offered the deal was to corrupt you. On the other hand, you've made it very clear that Los Angeles is your town, and you don't appreciate having anyone else, even me, tell you how to handle your business."
I had to admit that much was true. "You could always have called me to a summit meeting, if you were that worried. Neutral ground and all that. I always cared about what you thought, Buffy, even if sometimes I didn't agree with your solutions."
She nodded. "I did think about that, a few times recently, but things have been so busy. I told the guys that if you called, I wanted to be the only one you spoke to... but as it happened, I wasn't reachable at the time, and I gather that Giles took it as an excuse to get snippy. He was more worried than any of us, but he does have a tendency to obsess about the worst when it comes to you."
"I can see why," I commented.
"Willow was really torn up when she realized that she was too late," Buffy admitted in a low voice. "I think she kinda had an unrequited crush on Fred, from the time she came down here to save your soul again. Not that she isn't happy with Kennedy, of course - it's just one of those things, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess I do," I admitted. For some reason that reminded me of the fact that Fred herself used for some reason to have a thing for me, at least according to Cordelia. Back when I'd first brought her home from Pylea, which kinda made sense. I got back to the subject. "Well, thanks. It really helps to have heard where you were comi-" Just at that moment there was a knock on the metal wall of the box. "What is it?"
The unfamiliar slayer poked her head in. "Hey, Buff. Just wanted to ask your opinion about ambush attack patterns."
"All right," As she was getting up, Buffy turned to me. "You should probably weigh in too."
#
We all watched as the figure, shrouded in dark robes, walked briskly into the warhouse below through the doors, crossed over to the dome, examined it for a few minutes, and then left the way that he had come. "Andarpin warlock," Wesley whispered to me, and I nearly jumped off the catwalk... I hadn't realized he was there. "Gone to make his report. Hopefully, the next to arrive should be the Velerian."
"At the head of a task force, probably," I muttered.
"No, probably just a squadron. I doubt Lilah wants to commit too many of her forces to a location of our choosing lest it should prove to be a deathtrap." He chuckled to himself. "Of course, she couldn't possibly realize what kind of a trap we have in store."
"I hope not," I agreed.
"You look concerned, Angel," he said softly, following as I headed down yet another catwalk, or possibly one of the same ones as before all over again.
"I'm replaying it all over in my head," I admitted. "Especially... well, just after I told you guys that what I wanted to destroy the Circle, they..."
"The scroll that they demanded you sign," he filled in. "The one that they said was the real prophecy about a vampire with a soul getting to be human as a reward - and that by signing it, you would never get that reward, should it happen to be about you."
"Damnit, what did you do, like review the last day of my life as soon as you got to heaven?" I burst out. "Don't you have better things to do?"
"It isn't like that," he said. "Somehow we just... know, the things we need to. I know about that. It's been said that death is a moment of one-ness with the universe and the totality of history."
"So," I muttered, a little upset. "Do you know if it... is it real? Does my signing that scroll actually... can it actually change things?"
"I'm afraid that it does," he told me sadly. "It is not really the 'original' - since when does signing the original of a prophecy change anything? It's actually an obscure sort of a mystically binding codicil... as long as your signature remains on that scroll, it can keep you from realizing the promised reward mentioned in the prophecy... assuming that it was about you in the first place."
"Damn it," I growled. "Was hoping that you could tell me it was all a bluff. Oh well. It still had to be done."
"Of course, destroying the codicil would nullify its effect," Wesley mentioned, "but I'm not sure how we could arrange that. I can't even tell you where it is - doesn't seem to have been at the offices of Wolfram and Hart when they were destroyed, or at the locales of any of the Black Thorn members."
"It's okay," I told him. "I was never doing this for a reward in the first place. Uhm, Natasha?" I looked at her as she hurried up to the two of us.
"Wanted to make sure you heard this - Aaron got another message from the powers. Seems to relate to our plans with the Velerian sorcerer."
"Hmmm." Wesley's face creased in thought. "What's the text?"
"'Things will move quickly, and his power is great. You will have to react even more quickly if you hope to prevent him from taking lives.'"
"Well, we're already planning to move as quickly as we can," I said thoughtfully. "We'll make sure to pass that message along to everyone involved."
Wesley nodded. "I'll get started on that."
"Um, so, Natasha," I said. "Do you mind if I ask how you met Aaron? It hasn't really come up... you said that you were training a potential Slayer until last year..."
"Right," she confirmed. "Well, after we got Shannon into Sunnydale, I was a bit at loose ends, and Groo wanted to head south towards Los Angeles. We'd both heard stories of strange stuff going on here... rain of fire, sun blotted out, and Groo thought that you guys, and Cordelia, might be in the thick of it."
"Yeah, that's one way to put it," I muttered under my breath. Natasha shot me a look, but I didn't really want to explain, so I just made a 'go on' motion. After a pause and a shrug, she did.
"We ended up in a suburb pretty far on the outskirts just as the cult of Jasmine was building up. As it happened, though there were quite a few people who'd seen her on tv broadcasts from the city or heard her on the radio, a much larger section of the town had caught wind of the whole business and were suspicious of it, to the point of staying clear of all media."
"Huh, interesting," I muttered. "Didn't know there were places like that." Jasmine had been... well, she had looked like a beautiful and regal woman, her soul coming from some dimensional realm faraway, her body born of Cordelia and my son Connor... which pregnancy had ultimately been the cause of Cordy's death - her body had been drained of energy to form Jasmine's vessel early. But nobody could see or hear Jasmine or even be near her without worshipping and adoring her - not without an infusion of Jasmine or Cordelia's blood in their system, at least.
"It didn't last long," she said in an aside. "As Jasmine's power grew, I think she was able to manifest her influence without audiovisual contact... to convert someone through a face to face conversation with an already-converted proxy, for example, or eventually to just concentrate and send a field of her energy across a large area, taking everyone. At the time, though, Groo and I stuck around, definitely suspicious to the point of paranoia ourselves." She took a deep breth at this point.
"I happened to see a pack of Jasminites setting out through the streets, and we followed them as they broke into a house. At first I thought it was an attempt at forced conversion... to turn on a television for one of Jasmine's personal appearances and wrestle a family in front of it, that sort of thing. By the time we realized it was murder they had in mind, it was almost too late."
"Murder?" I repeated. "But Jasmine didn't... well, there were her 'personal guests,' but..."
"I know... her movement was rarely directed towards violence against humans, even the unconverted... just 'enlightening' them. They scourged out demons, of course... but it was quite clear that this band of Jasmine acolytes tried to kill him. Aaron, I mean."
"I wondered," I mentioned. "Of course... if Aaron was a link to the Powers, the ones that Jasmine had betrayed and turned her back on, maybe she couldn't afford to let him live, even under her influence."
"Wait," Natasha broke in. "She betrayed the Powers that Be?"
"Uh, yeah. She said... and as far as I've been able to work out, she was probably telling the truth this far," I qualified, "that she was one of the ancient Powers... that she was fed up with sitting back, passively watching, only doing the smallest amount possible to help the mortal creatures in all the worlds. That she had come here to show mankind the way to peace, happiness, brotherhood and love, and all that."
"Wow," Natasha muttered, clearly awed by all that. "I would have guessed she was really a moth'lar demon, myself."
I smiled at the thought. "Jasmine may have had her heart in the right place, and a big heart to boot, but that didn't make her any less dangerous. The path that she wanted to put humanity on..." I sighed, trying to find the best way to put it. "It wouldn't have been our own paradise, freely chosen, and that makes it hollow." Pause. "Plus the fact that she was eating people to sustain her earthly body and persuasive powers..."
"Eating people!" she exploded. "And you still believe that she wanted the best for us? Ranchers treat cattle pretty well, and keep them from fighting each other - but not for any altruistic reasons."
"She didn't need to take over the world just to have a safe food source," I replied. "Plus, if all we really were was meat to her, that would have come out once all of her plans were ruined. Creepy as it was, she did care. I think she even regretted the people eater part."
"Well, I don't tend to give the benefit of the doubt to any creature for whom I would fit on the menu... and no, you don't count because you don't drink human blood yourself."
"Stay clear of cows," I joked. "Think they might feel the same way."
"That's why I'm a vegan," she smirked. "Anyway... once we rescued Aaron, Groo and I pretty much turned ourselves around and headed back out of the Los Angeles area. Especially after I had heard about Jasmine's powers of persuasion increasing - I didn't want to put him at risk from either of us. Groo promised me that he'd protect the boy, even from me, and I hoped that as a part demon, he'd be immune to the effect..."
"I'm not so sure," I put in. "I fell under her spell, for a while there... though my soul is human. But so did... our friend Lorne, and he's one hundred percent pure dethwokk demon."
"Ahh. Just as well that we seemed to have been able to outrun her influence, then," Natasha mentioned. "Until one minute that must have been very near the end... Groo and I both went under - she must have gone global right then."
"With the worldwide news address, you mean?" I asked.
"Yes, I think so. We didn't have a television on at the time, but that didn't seem to matter. Maybe drawing billions of people into unity gave her the power to find us and convert us. Fortunately, Aaron himself wasn't affected, and he was able to fend both of us off until Jasmine's power crashed, shortly afterwards." She smiled. "Should I thank you for that?"
"Not necessary."
"But I skipped to the end of the story there. We asked Aaron if he had any idea why the Jazmaniacs had targeted him, and he couldn't explain it. It was much later, when he mentioned that he'd been having problems in school, that things started to fit into place. His parents had taken him to specialists and put him on medication for schizophrenia."
"Schizo..." I made the connection. "Hearing voices."
"Yes. The way we worked it out, the doctor was converted by Jasmine, and she recognized the signs. The drugs were pretty effective at suppressing his link to the Powers that Be, but she thought that he represented a threat anyway."
She paused briefly, then continued. "Once the threat from Jasomine was over, we took Aaron back to his parents, and tried to explain that the voices were not a sign of mental illness, but a gift - a heavy gift to carry, and one that he had to learn how to deal with, but still something to be treasured rather than repressed. It took a long time and a lot of arguing, but they started to support his working with me after a few months, and he's come along amazingly since then."
I blinked. Somehow I had pictured Aaron wandering around with Natasha and Groo ever since then, not living with his parents and going to high school... "And he 'heard' a warning about us getting in trouble this morning, and you spent all day figuring out what they meant?" I repated.
"Pretty much," she agreed. "And what to do about them... the signs were clear that to move too hastily might lead us to our own deaths. Tracking down where you were, trying to get a rough understanding of what you might be doing and what might threaten you... and then we lost track of everybody amidst all the action around midnight... uhh, hello?"
I looked up and saw Doyle and Fred coming towards us - an unusual pairing, considering that they'd definitely never have had a chance to meet in life. But they had friends in common both here and in the beyond, and I guess that had been enough. "Hey, where's Cordy?" I asked, a little irrelevantly.
"She popped into the dome, to chat up her boyfriend," Fred giggled, nodding teasingly at Natasha.
"Ahh, right," I nodded. Clearly nothing romantic was likely to happen at the moment between Cordy and Groo, but they had a long and confusing history together, and this was a unique opportunity for each of them to get a little closure. "So, Fred... looks like you've been settling into the afterlife all right."
"Frankly, it's still more than a little confusing," she admitted. "Just like when I first arrived at UCLA or when you brought me back to Los Angeles after livin' in my cave in Pylea for so long. Big, and complicated, and not working according to any rules that I understand yet." She turned and smiled, and I realized that she was looking at Wesley, who was talking to Faith and Kennedy. "But so long as there's people who I know there and who love me, that's home."
"Then you're still home here, too," I whispered softly.
"Awww... that might be the nicest thing anybody ever said ta me in all mah born days," she drawled. "Though... come to think of it, not sure if this really qualifies as one of my born days... do your born days end when you die?"