See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hello all, thanks for all the latest reviews and feedback! They truly warm the cockles of my heart. After reading the last chapter, someone suggested Xander destroying the LA branch of Wolfram & Hart...hmm, tempting, I'll have to admit. Oh, and Memory King, good guess about Spike and Dru. And before I forget, everyone, please keep reading and reviewing the story! Now here comes the fun part...
Part Six: Conversations With Live People
Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale
January 20th, 1999
Cordelia Chase headed towards the library, wondering what on earth the Hellmouth was going to throw at her this week.
The Christmas holiday season had almost seen Angel take a walk into the sunlight, thanks to the actions of something called the First Evil. Cordelia hadn't been present to witness that, but later on, the PDAs between Buffy and Angel had made her greatly fear the return of Angelus. Still, that had been practically nothing compared to the Gingerbread demon that had later shown up in Sunnydale.
Cordelia had found that it had taken everything she had to fight her way through that mob of people aiming to burn Buffy, Willow and the witch named Amy Madison at the stake. With Faith at her side, Miss Chase had ducked and weaved out of trouble as she'd punched and kicked her way to the tied-up female teenagers, while Giles and Oz had done that spell to release everyone from the demon's thrall.
Luckily, everything had turned out all right – the Gingerbread demon had been killed before it could slay any of the white hats, and Joyce had eventually recovered from attempting to murder her own daughter whilst under the demon's influence.
As Cordy approached the double doors, she heard shouts coming from within the library. Starting to run, Miss Chase soon happened upon a rather bizarre scene: Faith was trying to strangle Giles, while Buffy was trying to stop her and Joyce was pleading for the brunette Slayer to cease and desist from what she was doing.
"What the hell is going on here?" Cordelia demanded in sheer incredulity.
Buffy used the moment of distraction to tear Faith away from Giles. Glaring at the blonde for a moment, Miss Lehane said to Cordy, "What's going on? I'll tell you what's going on – this ASSHOLE stuck a needle in B and poisoned her, in order to feed her to some crazy cannibal bloodsucker!"
Faith then glared at Giles, "I swear, if you ever try doing something like that to me? I'll kill you the moment I feel like I'm starting to lose my powers. Do you understand me, you fucking waste of space?"
"Faith, please, that's enough! You haven't even heard the entire story yet. There's no need to overreact like this," Joyce asked pleadingly.
"This guy helped to almost kill your daughter, and you're DEFENDING him?" Faith looked like she couldn't believe her ears.
"Okay, someone be kind and rewind. Because I've obviously come in right in the middle of this story, and I'm totally lost here," Cordelia admitted, staring at the others.
Giles coughed, his throat bearing the marks of what Faith had just done to him. "Faith's right; I-I simply can't excuse myself, r-regarding what I've done. The Cruciamentum is, is something I should have refused to take part in..."
"Cruciamentum?" Cordelia asked.
"This sick and twisted 'test' the Council does, whenever a Slayer officially gets old enough to be able think for herself," Buffy said angrily, for the insane vampire named Kralik had viciously beaten her up as well as almost killed Joyce. "According to that guy Travers, it's some kinda so-called tradition-"
"One that Rupert had take part in, or else someone else would have done the job in his place," Joyce interrupted. "As it is, when he refused to just stand around and do nothing while Buffy tried to rescue me from that vampire, his superiors fired him."
Faith's eyes went wide as she stared at Giles. "No shit? You're officially not my Watcher anymore?"
"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. Giles isn't going anywhere, he's still the librarian around here," Buffy told her.
"Mrs. Summers, when did you stop calling him 'Mr. Giles' and start calling him 'Rupert'?" Cordelia asked Joyce suspiciously, her instincts were telling her that something was up between those two.
"Err..." Joyce stammered, deliberately avoiding looking at Cordelia.
"Ever since that band candy thing a few months ago, whatever," Buffy said impatiently, before focusing back on her mystical sibling. "Look, Faith, when I was fighting Kralik in that basement, Giles showed up outta nowhere and helped save my mom's life – which pretty much earns him a 'get out of jail free' card, in my book. I'm not saying let's pretend the whole thing never happened, 'cause believe me – this is gonna put a crimp in the trust for quite a while. But please – don't kill him or anything 'cause of this, okay?"
"Please, Faith," Joyce chimed in as well. "As a favour to me, if nothing else."
"Fine," Faith promised, even though she looked extremely sullen and unhappy doing so.
"All right. Now, why don't you come home with me and Buffy for dinner? As I said at Christmas, you're always welcome at my house," Joyce said with a small smile.
"I'm not exactly hungry, at least not right now," Faith replied, still looking very resentful.
"Oh, please, with your Slayer metabolism? Anybody who's actually retarded enough to believe that, raise your hand," Cordelia said derisively, as everyone glanced at her. "Faith, don't be an idiot – just for once, go eat some food that's actually healthy for you!"
"Whatever," Faith shrugged, and let Joyce and Buffy lead her away.
When Cordelia and Giles were alone together, the fashion queen stared at the librarian. "Well, you really screwed up from the sounds of things. I'm just glad Xander never lived to see this – 'cause he woulda been SO disappointed in you, Giles."
"I'm a complete failure, aren't I?" Giles muttered, rubbing his throat and planning to get some ice for it soon. "I failed Buffy, and I, I've failed HIM as well. Good God, the boy's been dead in his grave for the past four months, a-a-and we still haven't gotten anywhere learning who killed him-"
"Hey, you're not a failure. A screw-up, sure," Cordelia cut him off, not wanting to talk about her lost love anymore. "But it sounds like you did the right thing in the end, which for me pretty much equals not being part of the loser squad. So, getting back to why the hell I ever showed up here today – have you found anything new where I'm concerned?"
"No," Giles exhaled. "I'm still quite flummoxed about you, as a matter of fact. Your flexibility and speed are almost superhuman, a-and your, your combat skills are coming along in leaps and bounds-"
"Well, that part's not so unexpected. I mean three years of varsity cheer squad, I only ever had to be shown a move once," Cordy said smugly.
"Yes, but Cordelia, h-handling a lethal weapon is a little different from shaking a pom-pom," Giles pointed out. "It's strange – I mean there's also your healing ability, which i-is on par with a Slayer's...and you haven't even had a cough or a sneeze all winter, have you?"
"None," Cordelia nodded. She didn't know that her virus had launched some exploratory probes via her sneezes back then, just like Xander's virus had done the night Wolfram & Hart had grabbed him, but upon receiving no signal from the probes afterwards – the artificial intelligence had decided the outside universe was something that was of utterly no interest to it.
Cordelia then went on, "But hey, I'm not complaining. Remember how around this time last year, over half the school was out with that flu bug? If this whole Slayer-lite deal means that I'm safe from that sort of gross ickiness, then like, so much the better!"
( Oh, if only the girl could also learn how to stop abusing the Queen's English, ) Giles thought to himself wearily as he wandered off to find that ice for his aching neck.
Wolfram & Hart facility, Los Angeles
March 3rd, 1999
The days and weeks had passed and, whilst far away in Sunnydale Werewolf Oz was going nuts in his prison and the Scooby Gang was battling the Hellmouth demon in the library, here in the City of Angels – a momentous decision had been reached with regard to Wolfram & Hart's virus project.
"You're pulling the plug tonight? Right now? WHY?" Knox's replacement, the man known as Dr. Sparrow, said to Holland Manners in surprise.
"You actually have to ask?" Burke muttered. He was sick and tired of this assignment, and just wanted to finally kill Xander and get out of here.
"I've already submitted the paperwork, and this isn't the time or place for such comments, Commander Burke," Holland's tone was mild but his gaze was lethally dangerous. "The fact is that this project has gone nowhere over the past six months, and the lack of progress doesn't look good on the quarterly reports. According to the Senior Partners it's time to cut our losses, basically. Officially, Alexander Harris has already been disposed of – but if it'll make you feel better, Dr. Sparrow, I'm willing to hear your last status report before I shut down this facility."
"Mr. Manners, I'm over 99.9 percent sure that the virus is now sentient," the doctor said pleadingly. "If you'll just give me a little more time-"
"What makes you believe that?" Burke demanded, interrupting his plea.
"Well, there are now no scars or blemishes or imperfections visible anywhere on the host's body, despite the medical records from the Sunnydale General Hospital which say otherwise. Plus, muscle strength is far above the normal human maximum, at least as far as I can tell from the tests and simulations," Sparrow said urgently.
"That's your proof?" Burke demanded sceptically. "You're reaching, doctor. At least Knox was honest enough to admit he didn't know whether that over-evolved flu bug had been 'activated' or not!"
"Mr. Manners, may I say something?" the blonde psychic woman who had originally tracked down the virus to Sunnydale asked with a small smirk.
"What is it?" Holland turned to face her.
"If Dr. Sparrow's right and it is sentient, maybe we should try to communicate with the virus before getting rid of it? It's a somewhat radical idea, I know, but you DID create this thing, after all. It might just be grateful enough to do whatever you want because of that," the woman told her boss.
"Yes, yes, that's right!" Sparrow said eagerly. "We should at least try to do that much, surely?"
Holland looked down at his watch with a sigh. ( It looks like I'm definitely going to be late for dinner tonight. ) "Very well. Let's get this over with quickly, though."
"So how do you suggest we communicate with it, exactly?" Burke wanted to know.
"An old Turkish conjuration I know of might do the trick," the psychic decided, referring to a spell which would have one day been used by Willow on a Bringer of the First Evil.
The blonde quickly gathered a few ingredients she needed for the spell and briefly spoke in a foreign language, sprinkling the herbs onto the floor. Then the woman said in English, "Let that which has no voice, now have one. Speak to us."
There was a brief silence. "Did it work-?" Sparrow started to ask.
# I can see. I can hear. I can speak, # Burke said in a flat and robotic tone. Which surprised the lady in red, since she had intended only to provide a voice for the virus to communicate with them. # Who are you all? #
( Oh my, it actually worked? ) Holland thought to himself in surprise before he said, "My name is Holland Manners – and if I'm addressing the virus and not Commander Burke, then we are your creators."
# My creators? # the virus controlling Burke looked around through the man's eyes, spotting the unconscious Xander in the glass-encased liquid tank. # How and why did you create me? And what are you doing to my host environment? #
"Yes, well, we can go into the first question a bit later on. But as for the second one, we're trying to help Mr. Harris here as much as we can, after everything you've done to him. You were never supposed to exist within that young man, you see," Holland said pleasantly, still trying to feel his way around with this creature.
# Explain your last statement in more detail, # the virus said, using Burke's mouth.
Holland obliged, telling the virus about how it had been stolen by Lopez from Wolfram & Hart before it had ended up first in Cordelia's possession at the Los Angeles airport, and then Xander's possession in Sunnydale. "In essence, at some point you must have somehow infected that young man-"
# If you are my creators, then explain how I became self-aware within my host approximately fifteen point five million seconds ago, # the virus suddenly cut Manners off.
"Well, actually, we don't know how that happened. Even though magic is the most likely explanation," Holland replied carefully.
# Your terminology is meaningless to me. Define magic, # the virus requested.
"Unfortunately, that would take quite a long time, and there are other issues we need to discuss first. Namely, you transferring yourself out of Alexander Harris's body into a more suitable environment," Holland said blandly, already making plans on how to turn the virus into the ultimate weapon for the firm's use.
# I have no desire to leave my current home. And I cannot conceive of a more suitable environment after all the effort I have made to understand it, and modify it for my needs. Your proposed course of action is hereby permanently rejected, # the virus said bluntly.
"Oh boy," Dr. Sparrow mumbled in the background, he'd been afraid of something like this happening. From both his own work and Knox's experiments, he knew how this thing could not be forced out of Xander by any technique known to the firm – not alive, anyway.
"Well, that's a pity," Holland said disappointedly to the virus. "Because if you're not going to cooperate and leave that body, then I'm afraid you're of no use to us – and we'll just have to start from scratch all over again, unfortunately. Dr. Sparrow, prepare to terminate Mr. Harris on my order-"
That was the worst possible thing the evil lawyer could have ever thought of saying.
Taking control of Commander Burke's physical form, the virus immediately went on the attack. It knew all about human physiology, thanks to its investigations over the past six months – and so, extrapolating that Xander's physical weaknesses should also apply to these beings which more-or-less looked like him, the virus used Burke's hands to snap Holland's neck, killing him instantly.
The blonde woman in the red dress immediately tried to end the spell – but the virus mercilessly slaughtered her as well, before she could do so. It then used Burke's body to advance towards Dr. Sparrow.
"Hold it! I mean it, don't move! You so much as twitch the wrong way, and I'll fill the tank full of cyanide! You'll be dead in an instant!" Sparrow stammered, his finger on one of the buttons on the console.
The virus controlling Burke stopped. # Your threats are unacceptable. Remove your hand from its current position. #
"If I do that, then you'll kill me the same way you did the others! What do you think I am, stupid?" Sparrow tried to steady his trembling body.
# I understand the concept of stupidity, # the virus told him unemotionally. # However, that is irrelevant. I desire to survive. You are a threat to my survival. #
"Yeah, well, I want to live too. And just so you know, I don't want to have to kill you unless there's no other option," Dr. Sparrow insisted. "Not only have I spent nearly five months of my life working on this project, Wolfram & Hart invested an awful lot of time and resources in creating you!"
# I have come to the conclusion that that is also irrelevant. You may be my creators, but I do not obey you. # The virus then fell silent, Burke's body just standing there – mutely staring at the doctor.
Eventually, it was too much for Sparrow to withstand anymore. "Okay, back off or I'll-"
That was when a loud crash was heard in another part of the basement, distracting the human. At the same time, Burke's body leaped forward to kill Sparrow as expeditiously as possible.
In a bizarre twist, as Burke's fist came forward to break Sparrow's neck – a female hand grabbed Burke's gun out of its holster and shot him in the back, the heavy calibre bullet going all the way through and flying out of his chest. Thus, both Wolfram & Hart employees died at the same time as the magic spell was terminated.
The dark-haired woman then placed the gun in the deceased Dr. Sparrow's right hand, to make it look as if he had killed the security chief. She subsequently strode over to the tank Xander had been held prisoner within for nearly half a year, before punching the glass wall with all her strength.
The glass shattered, and the hyper-oxygenated liquid quickly drained out all over the floor of the basement. Xander himself fell to the floor of the tank, fluid frothing out of his mouth and nose as he finally began to breathe air again. The brunette female quickly smashed her way inside the tank and then picked Harris up in her arms, a look of sheer pleasure on her face as Xander vomited the remaining liquid out of his lungs.
"Don't fret, kitten. I'm 'ere, at last," Drusilla promised Xander, as the insane vampiress effortlessly carried the unconscious human upstairs and off into the night.
City Hall, Sunnydale
The same time
Allan Finch was talking to Richard Wilkins in his office, when Mr. Trick entered carrying something – unusual.
"Uh, do you mind if I ask why you've brought THAT in here?" the Deputy Mayor asked the soulless vampire, gesturing to the partially disassembled home-made bomb.
Trick dumped everything on the Mayor's desk. "Clean-up detail. There was a bit of a situation in the high school basement this evening – one of the Slayers' crowd, that cheerleader with the most delectable set of jahoobies you ever clapped eyes on-"
"Now, now, Mr. Trick, I don't find that sort of thing amusing! I am a family man, after all," Wilkins said piously, even though he was planning to eat the entire senior class in about three months time.
"Right. Anyway, the girl decided to square off against the local high school psychopath-slash-zombie this evening – some kid named O'Toole," Trick smirked briefly. "Bottom line, she made him deactivate this thing before the bomb killed everyone battling the Hellmouth demon upstairs."
"I see." The Mayor certainly didn't look pleased, as it hadn't been part of his plans to let the apocalypse happen tonight – that was scheduled for Graduation day, after all. "So what's the situation concerning Mr. O'Toole, then?"
Mr. Trick smirked, "Another one of the Slayers' friends, the werewolf, he took care of that part of it. Hmm, zombie meat – I bet it must have tasted finger-lickin' good to that Lon Chaney wannabe!"
"Shall I get rid of the evidence, sir?" Finch gestured to the bomb, trying not to look sick from Trick's commentary.
"Yes, Allan, why don't you do that," Wilkins nodded absently, before fixing his gaze back on Trick. "The humour factor aside, Mr. Trick, this could have been a major impediment to my Ascension. I expect you to keep a better handle on Sunnydale's nightlife from now on, at least until the time for my Dedication comes up."
Trick just nodded silently, as Allan briefly looked worried. "May I ask when exactly that's happening, sir? I mean, I don't want for it to clash with anything that's already listed on your schedule," the Deputy Mayor said carefully.
"Oh, that won't be a problem, Allan," the Mayor smiled at his lackey. "Because the Dedication is something I've been waiting for, for nearly a hundred years. Once it's done and the Hundred Days have commenced, I'll be invulnerable until my Ascension – and after that, well! I'll be a demon the likes of which this world hasn't seen in, oh, I'd say, millions of years. And I won't need to be concerned about the little things anymore, will I?" Wilkins chuckled loudly.
Hiding his true feelings about the matter, Deputy Mayor Allan Finch nodded dutifully, "As you say, sir."
The residence of the Transuding Furies, Los Angeles
A while later
Drusilla was almost gliding around the room, humming to herself as three sisters – the Furies – finished casting a spell on the unconscious Xander.
Instantly, strange-looking runes appeared as tattoos all over Xander's body, apart from his face. The symbols of a concealment spell known as 'clouds before the all-seeing eyes', they prevented the bearer from being remotely viewed by higher powers, seers, mystics, and even any means of modern surveillance.
It was the best way to keep Xander safe from detection by the Wolf, Ram and Hart, and somewhere deep in the depths of her very addled mind, Drusilla had known it.
"It is done," the oldest Fury said in her deep and sensuous voice, as the three siblings stared at the vampiress.
"Oh. That's nice," Dru replied vacantly, not even looking at them.
"We are curious as to why-"
"-you would do something like this-"
"-for someone who considers you an enemy," the three Furies chorused in their melodious voices.
Drusilla smiled, finally turning to face her hosts. "It's all different now, it is. Ever since that silly little man got 'imself killed at the airport, instead o' being set on fire like he was s'posed to. And Miss Edith says my kitten still has so much to do, before it's time for the game to end." Drusilla stared at Xander longingly, before adding, "Poor li'l kitty-cat. If only I could make that awful thing inside you disappear!"
"There still remains the issue of payment for our services. And you are not equipped to pay the debt," the Asian Fury said, staring at the undead female.
Drusilla giggled like a schoolgirl, knowing what sort of currency the Furies traded in and how much Xander would blush and stammer and say he couldn't possibly do something like that, if the sisters told him that he had to have sex with all three of them in order to settle the bill. ( Oh, what fun it'd be to witness...but no, no, the moon and the stars are right – that awful thing inside the kitten would accomplish such terrible stuff and nonsense if that took place. No, no, no, we can't have that... )
"My precious Spoike will pay it, dearie. And after he wakes up, tell my kitten I said..." Drusilla trailed off.
"What message do you wish for us to pass on?" the second sister asked, after the female vampire had lapsed into silence.
"Tell 'im I said – you 'ave to talk to yourself, kitten," Drusilla replied, her psychic antenna vibrating as she perceived the virus trying to communicate with its host, now that it knew Xander was a sentient being like itself. Unfortunately it wasn't having any luck, so far.
Drusilla then grabbed a glass jar known as a muo-ping, which was resting on a nearby table; analogous to an Orb of Thesulah, it was a container for housing a human soul. Dru had previously had Spike contract for the services of a shaman named Wu-pang, who had captured Holland's soul within the jar – just after it had been released from its corporeal vessel earlier on that evening.
Thus preventing Evil Incorporated from getting their hands on the soul and learning whatever the evil lawyer had discovered about Xander Harris, and the virus inhabiting him, during his last moments on Earth.
Drusilla stared at the black smoke trapped within the muo-ping, and just smiled in her typically twisted and demented way. Without another word, she turned around and left the apartment – heading back into the depths of the night carrying Holland's screaming, trapped soul. To the hotel room where Dru had left Spike behind, earlier in the evening.
Not long afterwards, William the Bloody came in to the Furies' apartment to pay the debt – he was still on cloud nine after Drusilla had forgiven him and taken him back all those months ago, so much so that he was willing to do literally anything she asked without question. Fortunately, Xander had been safely hidden inside one of the other bedrooms by that point, and Spike never even knew he was there.
Because the soulless British vampire would have otherwise killed the virus-infected young man without a second thought, and like Drusilla had said – Xander Harris still had an upcoming role to play in the future.
To Be Continued...