See Part One for disclaimer and details. Howdy, everyone, and wow – ask, and ye shall receive! I got quite a bit of feedback from the last chapter, including one email whose author demanded to know why I'd killed off Xander. The thing is, though – did we ever actually see his dead body? And even if we had, this is the Buffy-verse we're talking about – death isn't necessarily the end! Still, that sort of feedback is encouraging in one sense, in that I'm not getting too predictable in my plot bunnies. Well, I HOPE I'm still surprising people every now and then, anyway! Am I? Great, now I definitely need more people to review and send feedback, so please hit that hyperlink once you get to the end of the chapter...
Part Five: Unwelcome Visitors
Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale
October 26th, 1998
The past month had been a very busy one, and just as Buffy had suspected at the time, almost everyone in Sunnydale had forgotten about the Harris murders by now. Only the people who knew about the real world containing vampires and demons hadn't succumbed to that particular Sunnydale syndrome.
That was part of the reason why, a few days after the funeral, Cordelia had entered the library during one of Buffy's training sessions – the Slayer had been readmitted as a student, by that point – and Miss Chase had become very upset at the lack of progress on learning 'whodunit'. Cordy had thought that it had to be some demon or another, because who else would have planted wood at the scene of the crime? In her view, it had to have been someone or something who'd known of Xander's connection to the Vampire Slayer.
Unfortunately, Buffy had chosen that moment to tell Miss Chase that amateur hour was officially over, which had resulted in another nasty argument between the two girls as Giles had wisely retreated to minimum safe distance.
Willow and Oz had also tried to stay out of it as best they could, when the new Slayer named Faith Lehane – Kendra's replacement – had shown up in town. She was being chased by two vampires known as Kakistos and Mr. Trick. Upon being confronted by the two Slayers, Trick had survived; Kakistos hadn't. So the black vampire had decided to set up shop here in Sunnydale on his own...
And also around that time, Angel had somehow been brought back from that hell dimension which Buffy had sent him when closing Acathla. Naked, feral and chained up by Buffy in his old mansion, Angel had nonetheless escaped and saved Buffy's life from the crazy student monster named Pete Clarner, whilst Werewolf Oz was causing his own brand of mayhem after escaping from the library book cage.
A short while later, Homecoming had involved the 'fun' known as Slayerfest '98; but Buffy and Faith had found those demons, vampires and human terrorists relatively easy to deal with, after Mr. Trick had been abducted by the cops and recruited to work for the Mayor. Cordelia had been crowned Homecoming Queen that night as well, mostly since Buffy had never been given any reason to run for the title herself – but the empty feeling of a hollow victory had refused to leave Miss Chase, after she had gone home alone, later that evening.
Finally, all the adults had briefly acted like teenage kids after everyone had started eating some cursed candy – before Buffy, her Watcher and her mom had saved a bunch of babies from a sewer monster named Lurconis. About the only other good thing to have come out of that fiasco was Joyce softening on her attitude towards Giles – after all, getting shagged twice on the hood of a police car by the roguishly handsome British man made Buffy's mother feel more embarrassed than angry these days, whenever she was in Rupert's presence.
Just yesterday, though, the British woman called Gwendolyn Post had arrived in town, claiming to be Faith's new Watcher. She had also mentioned that the demon called Lagos was likely to show up, looking for something called the Glove of Myhneghon. A deadly artefact that was hidden within one of Sunnydale's twelve cemeteries, even if Mrs. Post didn't know which one.
( What the hell am I really doing here? ) Cordelia asked herself, even as she looked around Restfield Cemetery for Faith – who was hopefully somewhere close by. ( I should never have told Giles I knew where the Von Hauptman family crypt was, I...OH MY GOD! )
Cordelia froze at the sight of Angel exiting the crypt in question, carrying something wrapped in a bunch of rags. ( I thought he was supposed to be roasting his nuts in Hell or something! What's going on here? )
The only reason Cordelia didn't run straight back to the library immediately was the memory of Buffy saying, during that zombie-infested dinner party, that the soul curse had worked five months ago. So, slowly following Angel and making sure to keep a safe distance from him, Miss Chase made her way to the mansion on Crawford Street.
However, when Cordelia tiptoed into the atrium and saw Buffy and Angel kissing through a window, the brunette girl totally lost it.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING?"
Buffy and Angel broke apart at the sound of her voice, and then the ensouled vampire took a step back as Cordelia marched in through the atrium door, stake in one hand and thrusting her cross out with the other. Miss Chase said with a penetrating glare, "That's right, you back off – Dead Boy!"
"Cordelia, what are you doing here?" Buffy demanded, annoyed at hearing Xander's old nickname for Angel. "Hey, put that down-"
"You've got ten seconds to convince me that this isn't Angelus, or I'll tell everyone that he attacked me just now. And we both know that you won't be able to prevent Faith from dusting his ass sooner or later," Cordelia said to Buffy, not lowering the cross in the slightest.
"Cordelia? If I was Angelus, you'd be dead right now," Angel spoke up, his eyes still focused on the holy icon repelling him away.
"Yeah, listen, I know that what you just saw looks kinda bad – but, but Angel and I aren't – we haven't..." Buffy trailed off, wondering how to best put this. "We just...lost control of ourselves for a second, that's all."
Cordelia's eyes suddenly widened. She asked Buffy, "How long has he been back? That is, if you ever even sent him to Hell at all? Buffy, if Angel was the one who killed Xander and his family last month, I swear to God that I'm gonna-"
"NO!" Buffy interrupted, looking aghast. "It, it wasn't him! It couldn't have been!"
"Really? 'Cause you're not exactly inspiring me to believe you," Cordelia advanced slowly, death clearly visible in her eyes.
"I didn't kill Xander or his parents," Angel said, as he retreated slightly. "Not only would no one have ever invited me inside the house due to the animalistic state I was in, as far as I can remember...I-I've only been back around three weeks or so. And according to Buffy, those people were already dead and buried by that point. I – for whatever it's worth, Cordelia, I'm sorry for your loss," Angel said to her as honestly as he could.
"Oh, I'm sure. Because we were such good friends before you went completely psycho, right? You didn't even notice when I was trying to flirt with you, dumbass – well, that was before I found out what you really are!" Cordelia said scathingly. She then pointed to the bundle of rags. "I saw you carrying that out of the Von Hauptman crypt. Is that the Glove of Money-gone thing, or whatever?"
"Yeah. Hey, how did you know about that?" Buffy wanted to know.
"Giles figured out where it was earlier on tonight, while I was talking to Willow and Oz. I volunteered to go find Faith before that Lagos character got its claws on it – and imagine my surprise when HE shows up," Cordelia said scornfully, gesturing towards Angel. "All right, Buffy, you grab the demon fashion accessory. As for you, vampire, I'm taking you to face Giles. After the way you tortured him, I'm sure he'll have quite a few ideas on what to do to you in return!"
"That wasn't Angel!" Buffy snapped angrily, even as she picked up the Glove.
"Who said I was talking about him? Newsflash – I was talking to Angelus, you bottle-blonde freakazoid! You think I've forgotten how he's still in there, just beneath the surface?" Cordelia said contemptuously as both Buffy and Angel looked surprised. "Now both of you, get your asses in gear! We're going to the library, right now."
Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale
Less than half an hour later
Giles was packing up for the night, when Gwendolyn Post came strolling into his private office. "Off home, are we Mr. Giles?" she asked him.
"Yes, there are some volumes I'd like to consult which I keep there. Hopefully, there will be a, a drawing of the Glove somewhere in one of them," Giles said absently, even as he straightened his desk.
"Would you like some assistance in your search?" Mrs. Post offered condescendingly.
"Of course," Giles smiled thinly. He couldn't stand the woman and her snooty ways, but he'd been forced to work with worse Council colleagues over the years. "The sooner we find the Glove of Myhneghon, a-as well as some way to destroy it, the better."
"Hmm, yes. Hopefully the Slayers will soon take care of Lagos as well. I'm sure Faith will acquit herself admirably in battle now that I've taken over her training, but I'm still quite concerned about Buffy and her, ah, rather unorthodox ways," Gwendolyn said, straightening the cardigan draped around her shoulders.
Giles had had enough of the innuendo from this female mandarin. "Mrs. Post, I can assure you that Buffy is both dedicated and industrious, and that I am in complete control of my Slayer-"
Just then, the library doors slammed open and Cordelia, Buffy and Angel walked in. "Giles?" Miss Chase called out, attracting the attention of both British types. "We kinda have a situation here!"
Giles and Mrs. Post immediately left the private office, and Rupert's eyes went wide at the sight of Angel. ( What... )
A hundred memories of that hated face leering at him as he was tortured for hours, instantly flashed through Rupert's mind. God help him, but Giles wanted to grab the stake Cordelia was holding and plunge it straight into the vampire's heart. "You..."
"Giles? It's okay, this is Angel, not Angelus – he, he's got his soul back and everything," Buffy stammered nervously as she placed the rags containing the Glove on the main table.
"This is the vampire who tried to destroy the world a few months ago? Why the devil isn't he dust yet?" Gwendolyn Post's voice was full of incredulity as she glared at Angel.
"Boy, isn't that the question of the hour," Cordelia muttered to herself.
Buffy knew she had to talk fast before the British woman did something drastic, like summon Faith for a quick staking. "Angel is, is better now, h-he's one of the good guys again. He even helped me find the Glove of Minnie-whatsit over there," Buffy gestured to the object on the table.
Gwendolyn immediately went over to unwrap the Glove as Cordelia said, "And that's supposed to make everything hunky-dory? Damn it, Buffy – I saw you sucking face with your demon lover again, whatever excuse you wanna try to sell us about that. Have you totally blocked out the fact that the last time Angel went crazy, he barely laid a hand on you? He was WAY more interested in killing all your friends!"
"She's right, I was," Angel mumbled, head bowed and thus missing Buffy's look of exasperation.
"How did you return from...Mrs. Post? What are you DOING?" Giles suddenly noticed that Gwendolyn was actually putting on the Glove.
Once her right arm was all the way inside, the fake Watcher made a fist with her clawed fingers. Instantly the metal prongs surrounding the Glove's opening began closing, puncturing Gwendolyn's forearm one at a time until all ten became permanently embedded in her flesh. "Finally..."
Mrs. Post held up her gloved arm and smiled maniacally at the sight, seemingly oblivious to the pain. She extended her arm above her, up toward the skylight as she recited the Gaelic spell to invoke the power of the Glove. "Taou huogan maqachte milegaing!"
Angel knew the language, and thus realized what was coming. "Everybody, look out!"
The vampire's warning was only just in time, as a blindingly bright bolt of lightning smashed through the skylight and struck the Glove. Jagged shards of shattered glass fell everywhere, but Gwendolyn ignored them as she rejoiced in her new-found power. She then turned to face the others, and extended the Glove toward them.
"Tauo freim!" Mrs. Post shouted, and a bolt of lightning lashed out of the Glove to strike the door to the private office as the white hats scattered around the library.
"What the hell is going on – why's she trying to kill us?" Cordelia screamed, no longer concerned about Angel as a great howling wind seemed to spring up out of nowhere within Slayage Central.
"I don't know!" Buffy screamed back. "Giles! How do we stop her?"
"Cut off the-" was all that Giles managed to say, before Angel dived on top of him in order to save Rupert from a well-aimed lightning bolt.
"Distract her, quick!" Buffy called out to Cordelia, as she headed for the book cage.
"Hey! You, British lady with the totally unfashionable hair, I'm standing right here!" Cordelia shouted at the foot of the stairs, before she dove to the side and the next lightning bolt just barely missed her.
"Tauo freim!" Mrs. Post shouted again, before yet another lightning bolt was hurled at the very nimble cheerleader.
Luckily, by this point Buffy had reached the weapons supply depot. And after grabbing a hunga munga – an axe-like African tribal weapon that could be used for throwing – with her marvellously synchronized power of hands, wrists, arms and shoulders, Miss Summers let fly at her target.
The curved blade sliced cleanly through Gwendolyn's upper arm, severing it and the Glove from Mrs. Post's body. With nothing to control it now, the power of the Glove became erratic, and small bolts and sparks leaped up from it in random directions.
Another bolt of lightning blasted down through the skylight, and not having a specified target this time, it hit Gwendolyn in the chest with a few small tendrils of electricity going in through her eyes. The woman thus screamed at the top of her lungs, as her entire body began to writhe in pain.
Everyone watched in shock as Mrs. Post kept screaming and the lightning bolts kept coming. A moment later, with one final lightning strike, both the Glove and the one-armed ex-Watcher simply vanished in a bright flash of light.
( What is happening? ) the now-sentient virus within Cordelia asked itself, having colonized her body after the oral pleasure she'd given Xander last month and getting 'activated' by the huge release of mystical energy just now.
Exactly like the virus within Xander had become self-aware, on the night of the dead man's dinner party.
( Who am I? Where am I? ) the virus thought in confusion, as history began to repeat itself.
Wolfram & Hart facility, Los Angeles
The same time
In the basement of a building that was supposedly a travel agency, Xander Harris was trapped in a Wolfram & Hart laboratory – just as he had been ever since the night he'd been kidnapped, and a dead ringer substituted in his place for the authorities to find.
Unconscious, the young man was floating in a huge-sized tank, even though it wasn't water he was breathing right now. Rather, he was breathing a hyper-oxygenated liquid that had been reverse-engineered from the fluid within the human womb during pregnancy. His body had quickly remembered what to do on an involuntary level, and thus there was no muscle atrophy or anything like that after his month-long incarceration.
Commander Burke was staring at Xander with a cold look on his face. After the retrieval operation, he had been placed in charge of security for this facility. It was not an assignment he was particularly enjoying, however, and Burke was looking forward to the day when he would be able to rip Xander to pieces after the scientific types were done with him.
Burke walked up to Knox, who was now the chief scientist of the project. The man in the white lab coat thought to himself, ( I don't get it. Why can't I isolate any live samples of virus from the host? I mean, arresting the cell deterioration after taking a biopsy sample is one thing, but... )
"Knox," Burke said impatiently, but the guy was so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn't even hear the commando.
( Maybe I should apply an electrical current to the man's body during the procedure, either with or without an adrenaline boost? ) Knox asked himself, before he was brought out of dreamland by a hard whack on his ear. "Ow! Hey, what-?"
"I'm talking to you, egghead," Burke growled. "Are you listening to me now?"
"Yeah, yeah I am. What do you want?" Knox asked, rubbing his ear.
"A status update before I patrol the area outside the building," Burke told him. "Well?"
"We're still exactly where we were a month ago – nowhere," Knox complained, getting up off the chair. He gestured at Xander, "I don't get it; every single virus sample we've isolated from Harris is dead, lifeless – yet it's obviously still alive within him, 'cause there's no other explanation for the increased muscle mass we've discovered lately. That leftover virus we found in the bottle Spanky made for Lopez, that hasn't given us bupkus either!"
"Piece of advice – start coming up with results, or else you just might find yourself getting downsized. Literally," Burke said menacingly. "This is Wolfram & Hart. The Senior Partners don't tolerate failure!"
As the security chief left to go on his patrol, Knox contemplated his words very carefully. ( Hmm, maybe I should talk to Mr. Manners about bringing someone else in to consult on the project, some sort of expert, and then finagle a transfer back to my old job... )
City Hall, Sunnydale
November 26th, 1998
Mayor Richard Wilkins was in a much more chipper mood nowadays, ever since he'd made his speech at the Harris family funeral a couple of months ago.
He still held some hard feelings towards Holland Manners and the law firm employing him for that frightful cock-up – Richard felt he should have insisted that they be a little more discreet about the whole thing. But honestly, was it really his fault for assuming that Holland actually knew how to conduct a covert operation?
Wilkins didn't think so, but like the old saying went – when you assume things, it always makes an ass out of you and me.
Still, right now the Mayor had his mind on more important matters – like practicing his putting in the company of his assistant, the Deputy Mayor Allan Finch. Wilkins tapped the ball with the golf putter, but it just missed its target receptacle.
"Oh, look at that! Every time, cuts to the left," Wilkins complained as he got down on his hands and knees to check the lie of the floor. "See, and it's not the carpet. It's me." After he retrieved his golf ball, Richard added, "I swear, I'd sell my own soul for a decent short game. Of course, it's a little late for that..."
Wilkins chuckled and said to Allan, "I don't suppose I could offer up your soul instead? It'd really help me out on the green." Off the Deputy Mayor's shocked look, Richard chuckled again and said, "I'm just funning with you, Allan, gosh – you turn that frown upside down! Now, you were saying that we currently have a problem here in Sunnydale?"
Finch nodded. "The vampire named Spike, sir. He's been spotted back within the city limits."
( Ah yes, William the Bloody. Grandchilde of that Angel fellow. ) Wilkins started concentrating on his putting again. The Mayor's next shot was on target, but this time came up too short. He let out a frustrated sigh and went to retrieve his ball. "Go on."
"There was a, uh, an incident in broad daylight, at Uncle Bob's Magic Cabinet. The shopkeeper was found murdered, with twin holes in her neck. The police had a rather difficult time covering it up, I'm afraid."
Mayor Wilkins laughed, "Well, now, y'know, that Spike character did get up to all sorts of shenanigans last year, him and his sire – what was her name...Drusilla? Yes, that's right. We had a world of fun trying to guess what they'd do next, didn't we?"
"Yes, sir, I remember," Allan nodded like a good minion.
"But I guess we're past all that now. This year is too important to let a loose cannon rock the boat," Wilkins decided as he retrieved his golf ball and dropped it onto the floor once more.
Allan nodded. "Should I have Mr. Trick send a...committee to deal with him?"
Wilkins didn't seem to be listening. "Loose cannon. Rock the boat. Is that a mixed metaphor?"
Finch said confusedly, "Uh..."
Richard went on musingly, "Boats did have cannons, as I recall. And a loose one would cause it to rock. Oh, honestly, I don't know where my mind goes these days!" He chuckled again, "Yes, why don't you take care of that Spike problem, Allan. A committee, like you said."
"As good as done, sir," Allan said as he quickly left the office.
"Excellent. Fore!" Wilkins called out as he took another swing, and this time the golf ball hit the catcher receptacle directly on target. The Mayor spread his arms, elated. "Well, isn't that nice!"
From his point of view, it certainly was. But not so much from Spike's – because, since he'd never encountered Willow Rosenberg at the magic shop earlier on today, the British vampire was all alone when Finch's undead welcoming committee finally found him.
And not even William the Bloody would have been able to stand alone against so many attacking vampires, without eventually getting dusted – so Spike was indeed very fortunate that Drusilla showed up at the last second, to rescue him...
Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale
November 27th, 1998
Rupert Giles had left for a retreat up in Breaker's Woods, and Buffy was talking with Angel after Joyce had asked her daughter what was going on with regard to him – the woman had finally found out that her daughter's vampiric boyfriend was back, and she wasn't exactly happy about that.
But Faith knew nothing about such family matters – she was too busy training alone in the library.
( I guess things ain't been too bad ever since the evil Watcher got toasted, ) Faith thought to herself as the brunette practiced her moves on the training dummy. ( I kinda prefer G, anyway. Too bad about B and Fang, but if she doesn't wanna give guys with a pulse a ride, that's no skin off my nose. Red and Wolfie, well, hell – that's none of my beeswax, either. And as for Queenie... )
Faith grinned to herself. Cordelia didn't hang out much with the Slayage crowd these days, but in Miss Lehane's opinion, it was quality versus quantity which counted where that girl was concerned. Faith had learned for herself how Queen C ruled the school with an iron hand, despite the lack of a boyfriend. ( She just needs to loosen up a little, I'm thinking, find some stud to give it to her but gooood! )
Just then, the dark-haired Slayer saw Cordelia enter the library. "Hey," Faith said merrily as she stopped punching and kicking the practice dummy. "How's tricks?"
Cordelia didn't look like she was in the mood for pleasantries. "Where's Giles?"
"Watcher-man decided to bug out for the weekend. He'll be back on Monday," Faith shrugged. "You looking for the latest 411 on what's the sitch concerning your former beefcake?"
Cordelia glared at her for a moment, since she hated it whenever Faith referred to Xander that way. Then she calmed down and said, "No, but what the hell – maybe it'd be better if I talked to you about this, instead of him."
Faith instantly lost the smirk. "What do ya mean?"
Cordelia came closer towards her. "You know that I'm just an ordinary human, right? I mean Slayers, witch, werewolf, vampire and the whole Watcher-y knowledge deal Giles has got going – none of that is me. It's kinda like I'm the club mascot to you people, someone to remind you just how different you are to all the normals around here."
"Yeah. So what?" Faith asked.
"Well, if I'm so goddamn normal – then you wanna explain to me how I can do THIS?" Cordelia looked briefly enraged as she wound up and hit the practice dummy with her fist...
...and knocked its head clean off, up into the stacks within the next level of the library.
It was all due to the virus, of course; it had made Cordy slightly stronger, much faster, far more flexible, and capable of extreme tissue regeneration. This complemented nicely both her athletic cheerleader prowess, and her ability to cope with constantly being kidnapped by vampires, demons, zombie football players or even demon-worshipping frat boys.
"Huh," Faith rubbed her nose, looking at Cordelia with undisguised interest. "Sorry, Queenie, I'm Josephine Clueless here. But hey, you wanna spar a little? I'm suddenly wanting to see just how strong you are, compared to someone like me."
If Xander had been there a bit later on, no doubt the sight of two incredibly hot girls getting all sweaty wrestling together would have made his groin go 'yippee!' for quite a while.
To Be Continued...