See Part One for disclaimer and details. Hey everybody, welcome to the latest chapter of the story! Thanks as always to everyone who's reviewed and sent feedback so far, you truly keep me going. Hmm, it seems that quite a few people were surprised by Drusilla showing up in the previous chapter - I'm not sure whether that counts as a good thing or a bad thing, honestly. Because sure I like to keep you guys guessing about what's going to come next, but at the same time I don't want to be TOO subtle about it. It's a fine line, I swear. Anyway, please keep the reviews and feedback coming, I need 'em like Xander needs his daily Twinkie intake! Well, enough of the chit-chat, time to get on with what you all came here for...
Part Seven: Questing For Truth
Wolfram & Hart facility, Los Angeles
March 4th, 1999
One of Wolfram & Hart's psychics, a bald man named Vernon, was making a sweep of the basement as Knox, Lindsey, Lilah and Lee were being interrogated by the new guy in charge of Special Projects, Linwood Murrow. The four bodies from the previous evening had already been removed by a clean-up crew, as had the liquid from the smashed tank; but Linwood still occasionally looked down at the floor in disgust.
"Well, it looks like we had a situation here last night," Linwood said with a scowl, as he paced before his subordinates. ( Four dead bodies worth of a situation, at that. What the hell happened, exactly? )
The new sheriff in town hated the fact that none of the victims could be brought back by the Senior Partners to tell him what had transpired, not even Holland – someone who, unlike the others, had had an eternal service clause in his contract. His soul was earth-bound, according to the mystics, trapped and being moved around so that it was impossible to locate precisely. Still, Linwood knew that he was expected to carry on despite that drawback.
"Uh – you mind if I ask why I'm here, sir? I mean, I haven't been involved in the virus project for quite a few months now," Knox said rather nervously.
"I know. That's actually one of the reasons why you're here – what can you tell me about these three?" Linwood gestured to the lawyers present. "Did you ever get any hint that any or all of them would try to kill Holland Manners, and the rest of our personnel stationed here?"
"Sir, Holland was the man who handpicked me to work for the firm back when I was a sophomore at Hastings! He was like a father to me!" Lindsey protested to Linwood.
"Oh, how sharper than a serpent's tooth to have a thankless child," Lilah quoted, getting in a cheap shot at her co-worker. "And as if I'd ever try to bite the hand that fed me – I knew perfectly well which side MY bread was buttered on!"
"And why would I want to kill Holland? I know for a fact, he was grooming me to be his successor at Special Projects-" Lee started to say.
"In your dreams!" Lindsey and Lilah both interrupted with identical angry expressions on their faces.
"Shut up, all of you," Linwood growled at the legal trio. Then he turned to Knox, "Well?"
"There was never anything overt, sir. But this is Wolfram & Hart – it would have been strange if all three DIDN'T want Mr. Manners out of the way, in order to take over his job," Knox said honestly, ignoring the glares aimed at him from the lawyers.
Linwood nodded, before turning to Vernon. "So, what are you picking up?"
"Fear. Confusion. Pain," the bald psychic replied, rubbing his forehead. "These walls scream with the emotions of the dead-"
"Cut the existential crap, and just tell me what happened," Linwood cut him off roughly.
"A spell," Vernon replied, holding his head with both hands now. "I can feel the remains of strong magicks cast here. There was talking, and then death – Holland Manners was the first to die. Then my former colleague, and then Dr. Sparrow and Commander Burke – they died together. And..."
"And what?" Linwood demanded.
"A woman," Vernon replied, lowering his hands and opening his eyes. "There was a woman here when it happened. One with dark hair..." he trailed off, frowning as he focused his attention on the faint residual psychic vibrations still present.
Lilah started backing away in fear, when everyone started staring at her. "Hey, no, wait a minute-!"
BOOM! Linwood's bullet created a big red blotch in Lilah's throat, as the female attorney died instantly. Murrow had unfortunately jumped to conclusions and decided to mete out swift punishment for last night's killings.
"...a dark-haired vampire woman," Vernon finished up, as everyone stared at him.
"Oh. Oops. Well, never mind," Linwood remarked, shrugging as he put away his gun. "Someone call the clean-up crew back over here, to get rid of the remains."
"Yes, sir," both Lindsey and Lee said in unison, sparing their dead female colleague not even the slightest glance.
"Uh, Mr. Murrow – what now?" Knox spoke up timidly, terrified that he might be the next one to get shot by mistake.
"You haven't been able to find any trace of the virus or its host, right? What was his name, Harris?" Linwood asked Vernon, who just shook his head. Luckily for Xander, he was now safely invisible – and luckily for Cordelia, Vernon's range couldn't extend all the way to Sunnydale, so she was also temporarily safe from the evil law firm's clutches.
"Good. Well, then I guess that pretty much settles it – the virus is dead and gone, just like Holland recorded it was before he was killed. The psychics will eventually figure out who that female vampire was that stumbled onto our operation here, and our wet works teams will deal with her. Therefore, gentlemen, once I submit my final report, I'd say this project is officially terminated," Linwood said as he started to walk upstairs, his subordinates faithfully trailing after him.
Los Angeles Public Library, Los Angeles
March 5th, 1999
Xander was at a library – the same one, oddly enough, that Lilah had identified as a magical hotspot with enough psychic energy to hide the presence of the virus, even without the tattoos he was currently covered with. Xander briefly examined his rune-covered arms again, before returning to his attention to the computer screen.
After he had woken up from his six-month soaking, the Furies had told Harris what little they had learned from Drusilla. Xander wasn't sure how much of their story he was willing to believe, though. After all – he had woken up in the presence of three complete strangers, and for all he knew, the protective tattoos covering his body might be something else entirely and the sisters themselves black hats in disguise.
Thus, Xander hadn't stuck around for too long at the Furies' apartment. Not after he'd learned just how long he'd been missing in action before Drusilla, of all people, had shown up to rescue him. In his mind, it was first thing's first – and finding out what had happened after that terrible night in Sunnydale was at the top of his list.
Xander sought out electronic copies of the Sunnydale Press newspaper, after hitting one of the library's computer workstations. Once there, he then entered the name 'Harris' into the search engine and waited a few seconds.
The expression on Xander's face after learning that he had been stabbed through the heart and buried in Sunnydale ages ago, just like his parents, had to be seen to be believed. ( WHAT THE FU-? )
Xander quickly found and read the obituary Willow had posted last year, but that yielded no information on who had killed his parents and kidnapped him. Scrolling through the newspaper archives, Xander found – not exactly to his surprise – that less than a week after the funeral, the Harris family murders had never been mentioned by the paper again.
Xander thought to himself, ( Okay, so how do I find out who did this to me? The only person who might know is Drusilla, but how the hell do I track her down? And even if I did find her – odds are I'd get nothing but her loony double-talk, and she might or might not try to kill me afterwards. Wait a minute, what was it she said to the Furies? Oh, yeah, I have to 'talk to myself'. But how the hell do I do that? )
Unable to decide what to do, Xander decided to go back to the three sisters and ask them for help. Taking pity on him, the Furies took Xander to the karaoke bar called Caritas and the anagogic demon named Lorne.
"Oh, boy," Lorne groaned, treating himself to a stiff drink after hearing Xander sing and getting a feel for the human's destiny. "Stud muffin, thanks a lot for THOSE visuals!"
"What did you see?" Xander eyed the demon carefully. He'd figured that singing technically constituted talking to himself, and that Lorne might be able to give him some answers in Drusilla's place. But despite the reassurances from the Furies that this guy wasn't evil, Xander couldn't trust Lorne completely – hell, at this point in his life, he couldn't trust anyone completely.
"Trouble with a capital T, sugar pie," Lorne said in response to the question, putting his glass down on the counter. "Listen to me – you have to go home before you run into Wolfram & Hart again. They may think you're dead now after kidnapping you last year, but that concealment spell the Furies did won't be able to help you – not if one of their lawyers spots you on the street like that!"
"What? And who exactly is Wolfram & Hart?" Xander asked in bewilderment.
"A law firm staffed mostly by humans but run by a cabal of very old and very evil demons, my little strudel – the so-called Senior Partners. The Wolf, Ram and Hart. They're so entrenched in this and many other dimensions, they've got so much power and influence, that not even your Watchers Council can do anything about getting rid of them," Lorne replied. "From what I saw, the LA branch of the firm – they're the ones who decided to kidnap you. As well as murder your parents."
"Why?" Xander asked angrily; the question had been haunting him ever since he'd woken up. "And why do they think I'm dead now? And what was Drusilla talking about with regards to something 'awful' inside me?"
"I wish I knew – however, I can only tell you what I see. And that is, you hightailing it out of this city before Wolfram & Hart realizes the big mistake they've somehow made," Lorne said, having another big gulp of his drink and having failed to register the presence of the virus, for some reason.
"You mean, I'm supposed to just lie down and take all this? Let those people get away with murdering my mom and dad, as well as stealing six months of my life? Hey, screw that!" Xander yelled obstinately.
Lorne picked up a newspaper from under the bar counter, and tossed it to Xander. "Look in the obituary section, I'm pretty sure he'll be mentioned there somewhere."
Xander did so with a frown, until he came to a certain name. "This guy who worked for Wolfram & Hart, Holland Manners – he died last night from a heart attack?"
"Well, I'm sure that's what they want the world to think, anyway," Lorne shrugged. "Listen, pumpkin-"
"Will you stop calling me pastry names?" Xander interrupted irritatedly, as Lorne took the paper and examined Holland's obituary – which luckily included a picture of the dead man in question.
"Sorry," Lorne apologized before pointing at the picture. "Look, I saw this particular hombre feature quite a lot in your aura as you sang – I get me the distinct feeling that he was the head honcho on Operation Murderous-Deception-On-The-Hellmouth. You want to avenge your parents' deaths, I figure someone else has already done it for you-"
"Drusilla?" Xander interrupted again, wondering if that was even remotely likely.
"Maybe, maybe not. Most likely, we'll never know for certain. But my point is, you don't want to stay here in order to try to find out. If Wolfram & Hart finds you? It's good night, sweet prince, and may flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!"
The lounge demon saw Xander's expression and added, "Look, kiddo, what you decide to do is totally up to you – all I can do is point you in the right direction. Which in this case, means going home to your friends. Going home to her." Lorne looked his client right in the eye as he said that.
"Her? Who, her?" Harris asked in confusion. He had no idea who Lorne was talking about – because as far as Xander was concerned, the break with Cordelia, plus the whole 'Willow and Buffy not speaking to him anymore thanks to his lie about the soul curse', were all almost literally yesterday.
"You'll see when you get there," Lorne said, grabbing the paper and leaving the baffled male teen behind.
Downtowner Apartments, Sunnydale
March 6th, 1999
It was long past midnight and Faith Lehane was having a Slayer dream, as she tossed and turned in her bed within the dingy motel room she lived in.
She didn't have Slayer dreams very often, actually. That was more Buffy's department, the blonde having had more than her fair share over the years. But tonight, it was Faith's turn.
And what a doozy of a prophetic dream it promised to be.
In her dream, Faith was walking along through a park. It was a beautiful day – ideal picnic weather. The Slayer continued to walk, seeing people she knew scattered here and there on the ground around her. Then Faith stopped in surprise, as she saw Willow sitting at a picnic table with a blonde college-age girl.
To Faith's disbelief, the redhead and the blonde stranger then started making out, as Buffy and some tall, sandy-haired guy she didn't know joined them – and they started kissing, as well.
Then Faith noticed something even more surprising. Not far away, close to the trees she saw herself and a middle-aged man breaking bread together on a blanket spread out on the grass. She took one step towards them...
"I wouldn't go down that road, if I were you."
Whirling around, Faith saw Oz standing behind her. But he didn't look fully human – his eyes were completely black, his face was kinda furry and a set of canine incisors were extending out of his mouth. "Wolfie? You look different."
"Yeah. It's all about the inner me," the dream Oz said cryptically.
Faith cocked her head towards where her other self was having a picnic with Mayor Wilkins. "Mind telling me why I shouldn't go over there? Looks like that's where I'm supposed to be."
"Appearances can be deceiving." As Oz said this, a long, thin snake in the grass almost slithered over Faith's feet, causing her to jump backwards. He then cryptically added, "Guys are often like that."
Faith felt a little spooked now. "Am I dreaming?"
Oz shrugged. "I'm probably the wrong person to ask."
Faith again turned her attention to Willow, Buffy and the people she would one day know as Tara Maclay and Riley Finn. "What about them?"
Oz said nothing, as Faith's attention was suddenly drawn to a man walking towards her. From the upturned nose, not to mention the suit and tie, he was obviously a member of the Tweed Brigade.
"Looks like they're waiting for you to join them," Oz noted, as Faith saw the Watcher called Wesley Wyndam-Pryce join the quartet at the table and make 'come here' gestures towards her.
Miss Lehane took a step forward, but then something occurred to her. "Hey, where's Cordelia?"
She turned to face Oz, but he was no longer there. Instead – there was a bald guy with glasses, wearing cheese slices on his head.
"The cheese stands alone. You don't have to," the Cheese Man said, before he dipped his head forward and the suddenly-bloody cheese slices fell to the ground.
Faith looked down and then around, suddenly realizing that she was somewhere else. It was night time, and she was outside the Bronze – the heart of Sunnydale. She could hear noises inside the teen hangout, voices and music.
And yet, the exterior lights of the club weren't on. In fact, even the street lights weren't working; it was totally silent and dark outside. Feeling disturbed, Faith walked inside the Bronze – there was no bouncer on duty – and soon, another dark-haired guy whom the Slayer didn't recognize came up to her.
"You should have been my first. Guess that's why my neck isn't aching," the dream figure of Xander Harris said with a strange expression on his face.
That made no sense to Faith, as she watched Xander leave and meet up with Cordelia in another part of the club. The brunette Slayer raised an eyebrow as she saw the two hug and kiss. ( Okay, I wasn't expecting that... )
"Evening, ma'am," a male voice with an Oklahoma accent distracted Faith, as the dream version of Lindsey walked right past her – dressed not in his usual Armani suit and expensive shoes, but rather cheap clothes and shitkicker boots.
The Chosen One's attention was then drawn to Angel walking out of the Bronze, head bowed, before Faith saw Giles and Joyce laughing together not far away.
( Huh, G and Mrs. S sure seem to be enjoying themselves, ) Faith thought with a frown, watching the two older people carefully. ( Wonder what that's all about? )
A loud voice suddenly said through the Bronze's loudspeaker system, "Ladies and gentlemen, the demon has entered the building. Everyone, please run for your lives."
Instantly, the crowd began to stampede for the front doors of the club. Once she was alone, Faith saw the strangest creature she could imagine come out from behind the curtains of the stage – the head of a snake attached to a man's body. It took Faith a second to recognize the clothes as belonging to the older guy she'd seen herself having a picnic with, earlier on in the dream.
The Mayor-snake said to Faith, "This won't end well, firecracker."
At that moment a bright light burst into existence right next to the demon, which slowly cleared into a glowing, translucent, rotating double helix; something that tugged at the brunette Slayer's memory from before she'd dropped out of high school – a biology class textbook image of a DNA molecule.
This was, in fact, what the virus within Xander and Cordelia had originally been composed of.
The next moment, Faith's eyes flew open – as the latest incarnation of the Vampire Slayer started gasping for breath within her bed.
Oak Park Street, Sunnydale
Not long after three o'clock in the morning
Faith and Buffy were heading for Giles' condo, walking side by side. Buffy was looking annoyed as she said, "It's not so much I object to you waking me up in the middle of the night, by doing a Huck Finn impersonation and throwing rocks at my window. But Slayer strength, remember? My mom's gonna kill me in the morning, after she comes back from her overnight trip to LA!"
"C'mon, B, is it my fault I didn't know that the parental unit wasn't home? So I threw a little hard. I mean, if you didn't sleep so soundly..." Faith had a bit of a smirk on her face.
"Oh, so this is MY fault now?" Buffy demanded. "Why did you decide to drag me along for this, anyway? I mean, couldn't it have waited 'til morning?"
"Giles never answered his phone after I called him, and you're the one who's been nagging about the whole teamwork thing ever since I nearly screwed up with that Hellmouth demon a few nights ago. I figured you'd want in if the Tweed Guy's in danger, especially after that mondo-weird Slayer dream I had," Faith replied, as they finally arrived outside the ex-Watcher's place.
"Yeah, about that..." Buffy trailed off, not sure what to make of everything Faith had told her. "I mean, you definitely saw me kissing a guy who wasn't Angel? Why would I ever do that?"
"Don't look at me, I just work here. But if you think that was whacked, you shoulda seen Willow macking on a girl – and Oz looking like Wolverine!" Faith shook her head. "Not to mention that geek with the cheese, and the snake-headed guy..."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. We need to talk to the expert on weird about this," Buffy said firmly as she let herself into the apartment with the spare key Rupert had given her, and then the two young women quickly headed upstairs when they heard noises in the bedroom. "Giles? GILES!"
When they got to the bedroom, Buffy almost fainted at the sight of the British man in bed with her mother – with Joyce grabbing the covers and trying to cover herself up, as her daughter's jaw practically hit the floor. "MOM?"
"Buffy, what-what are you doing here?" Joyce squeaked, unable to look her daughter in the eye.
"What am I doing here? Mom, what are YOU doing here? And with, with GILES of all people?" Buffy shouted.
Granted, she could tell exactly what these two had been up to tonight as Rupert scrambled to put on some pyjama bottoms, but the blonde Slayer's mind simply couldn't cope with seeing first-hand evidence of her mother's sex life.
Faith, on the other hand, had no such problems.
"All right, Joyce!" she crowed cheerfully. "Glad to see you're finally getting some!"
"No! No, this is not happening!" a traumatised Buffy insisted, ignoring Faith's laughter as she pinched her arm repeatedly. "Wake up; wake up, damn it! This has gotta be a nightmare!"
"So, telling your daughter you were in LA, in order to screw Giles's brains out? Classic," Faith said to Joyce, grinning for all she was worth. By this point, she had gotten over the whole Cruciamentum thing back in January, and figured that if Buffy's mother wanted to get laid – well, Rupert was no worse a male specimen than any other to do the deed.
"No, it's not what you think – see, I, I finished up in Los Angeles rather earlier than I expected, and after I came back to Sunnydale I thought it'd be okay if I...um, that is, we-we just wanted to..." Joyce spluttered, looking horribly embarrassed.
"HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?" Buffy screamed, finally letting herself believe and glaring at Giles.
"Err, not all that long – and we, we've been meaning to tell you, but, um, the-the timing never seemed to be quite right," Giles stammered, not liking the look on his former charge's face.
"Okay, then what are your intentions towards my mother? And they had better be honourable ones, mister!" Buffy growled, she was very upset right now.
"Right, you wouldn't want an illegitimate brother or sister – even though your mom didn't look knocked up in my Slayer dream," Faith drawled, suddenly remembering that part of the dream where the two adults had seemed to be getting along well. ( Boy – I guess that was a bit of an understatement, huh? )
"Slayer dream, you say?" Giles suddenly looked interested.
"That's why we're here, after a certain somebody never heard his phone ringing!" Buffy hissed out.
"Well, in G's defence, all that-" Faith grunted while swinging her hips forward suggestively, "-does tend to make a guy not pay attention to what else may be happening around him. Personal experience talking here."
"Will you not – whose side are you on, anyway?" Buffy demanded of her sister Slayer.
"Giles? Are you home?" a strangely familiar male voice called out from downstairs, pre-empting Faith's reply. "The front door's open!"
A few seconds later Buffy Summers felt her jaw drop almost down to the floor, as she saw Xander Harris standing within the apartment's living room.
To Be Continued...