A/N: Hey, all! Sorry 'bout the long delay, but things have been getting chaotic in my life, and I'm working full time at two jobs now (growing up's a bitch, ain't it :)) But my commitment to this story is unwavering and steadfast. Mark my words, you will see an ending. And this story's only begun to unravel. Special shout-out's to: Allan Pitt, The Great One, lelegurl9, Edgechick816, JessicaC, Shahid (I have a few differing opinions about your review, but still, thanks for your feedback), CF, tariq, ShawThang (love your writing), MandyMouse, trina-k, and Angelfirenze, Trixie-GO-Boom, and Imzadi for your reviews.
You Guys Rock!
Now that Angel and the Buffy-verse are basically over (sniff…BIG sob) I guess it falls to us to keep the story of Joss's blonde Slayer and the vampire(s)-with-soul alive. BTW, I still haven't seen the finale of Angel yet, so NOBODY spoil it for me, okay? I don't wanna know until I give you guys the all-clear that I've watched it, alright? Thanks, love you guys :)
The next few chapters will be updated sporadically during this summer, so keep your eyes peeled. In the meantime, on to the story!
Without further ado, I present to you, the next chapter of….
Bring Me To Life - A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event
Part 10 - Die First, Ask Questions Later
Sewers - Los Angeles, CA
Now
"This way," Connor instructed the group as they maneuvered down a sewer tunnel, one of the many they'd passed through in the last half-hour since their hit-and-run escape from the hotel.
"Did you really have to hit Lorne that hard?" Dawn scolded him. "You realize the first thing he'll do, once he wakes up, is tell your dad and my sister what happened. My more-powerful-than-a-locomotive Slayer sister."
"I…kind of panicked," Connor flushed. "Seemed like the thing to do at the time."
"Hit first and ask questions later," Dawn smirked as she stepped over a puddle of rather gross-looking fluid at her feet. "You really are just like Angel…and maybe a little of Spike."
"That vampire with the English accent?" Connor turned up his nose in disgust. "I think I almost prefer you comparing me to my father than to that trash."
"Suit yourself, Junior," Dawn rolled her eyes at him. He turned to scowl at her, but one look at her impish grin staring back at him, and Connor's intimidating glare faltered, and finally melted into an almost shy smile.
"Are you guys sure this is a good idea?" Molly asked as she crept along behind them, Vi bringing up the rear.
"Chill, Molly," Dawn sighed. "We've got a plan…sort of…so, what's with the butterflies in your stomach?"
"We're just a few moderately trained young people about to take on possibly, from what you've told us, the most dangerous person walking the face of the Earth right now. You'll have to excuse me if I get a li'l skittish," Molly replied, a little sarcasm creeping into her voice.
"No lie," Vi spoke up, looking up cautiously at her surroundings. "Plus, do we even know where we're going? All I keep seeing is smelly sewer after smelly sewer."
"This is the way," Connor insisted as the group crept closely along the walls of the tunnel. "I scanned the tunnel routes myself. I pretty much know how to get anywhere in this city from here."
Molly spotted an enormous rat, which looked like it had gnawed on steroids, waddling slowly along the other side of the tunnel. "You live a charmed life, huh?" she muttered, revolted.
"You have no idea," Connor said, a note of distaste and regret in his voice. He didn't like knowing all the things he knew sometimes, living the life he was living, but it was all he'd known for so long. What else could he do but live it?
The group went some time without speaking, as they continued to make their way through the labyrinth maze of sewer tunnels. The smell of the sewers was enough to make them nauseous, and the only shafts of light came from the occasional water drain up in the streets, but they pressed on.
The four teens had a mission to accomplish. Granted, it was a self-appointed, risky mission, but it was theirs nonetheless. And the longer they walked, the more determined they became to reach their destination.
"So, what exactly is the plan again?" Vi asked.
Dawn rolled her eyes. "How many times have we been over this? Connor and I will provide the distraction, and we wait for Cordy to drop her guard. Once she does, we'll have the opportunity to knock her out and grab her. If anything goes wrong, that's where you guys come in. Vi, you come in from behind. Molly, I'm counting on your skills with that crossbow in this scenario."
"Shouldn't be too hard," Molly beamed, proudly, patting her crossbow. "With all my target practice lately, I'm becoming quite the crack shot."
"No killing!" Dawn and Connor managed to simultaneously blurb out.
"Well, of course not," Molly shrank a little, a bit hurt that they were skeptical of her skills as a bowman…er, bowperson. "I can aim just as well for a kneecap or a shoulder blade as I could a direct hit to the heart or the head."
Connor fought off the urge to cringe at the thought of further injury to Cordelia…even if she was currently possessed and evil.
"Oh, well, that's good." Dawn had a moment to consider her friend's words. "And also…a little disturbing."
"Glad I'm not the only one that thinks so," Connor smirked.
Dawn giggled a bit at Connor's unwitting joke. At the sound of her lovely voice lighting up with a hint of laughter, it drew the boy's eyes to hers, two twin sets of blue eyes meeting their respective gazes.
Dawn had to avert her gaze, so that she could keep Connor from seeing the lovely pink tinge coming to her cheeks, just as Connor had to feign checking on his shirt's cuff, suddenly finding it fascinating, than to let Dawn watch as he, the Destroyer, started to blush.
"So, um…h-how much longer do you think we should be from the factory you said 'Cordy' is hiding at?" Dawn abruptly switched gears.
"Not much longer," Connor said, scouting up ahead with his hawk-like vision. "We should be there soon, no problem."
"I wouldn't count on that, pretty boy," a menacing growl came from behind the group.
The teens whirled around to find a small contingent of vampires, sporting ripped leather jackets and heavy chains dragging from their hands.
Molly held up her crossbow defensively, her eyes widening in surprise, before they narrowed into slits, steeling herself as best she could to take aim at the demons. Vi reached for her stake, her hands trembling fiercely as she struggled for a good grip with it. And Dawn, feeling a little naked without a weapon, suddenly began to wonder if this little underground odyssey was such a good idea, after all.
Connor, however, was not intimidated. In fact, his thin, handsome face bared a calm yet feral smile, even as he instinctively stepped up, brushing Dawn safely behind him, placing himself as the lone barrier between the girls and the pack of murderous demons. Ever the alpha male.
Ever the warrior.
Connor's voice was like smooth, cold steel. "Hello, Cage. Been a while."
He addressed the head vamp, a bald-shaven, stubbly, thickset soulless demon, bearing brass knuckles on each hand, ripped jeans, leather biker vest underneath a bloodstained white undershirt. Every bit the stereotypical biker. Well, except for the bloodstain in place of the beer stain.
"Well, well, well," the vampire sneered. "Lookie here, boys. If it isn't the SuperPunk himself. I've been just dyin' to see you again."
"Thought you were already dead. Though that's something I can help you with," Connor glared, but that predatory smile never left his face.
Dawn wasn't sure whether she felt comforted by it, or just plain creeped out. But given the choice between him and the scary vamp chain gang, she was with Connor all the way.
"And still with that smart mouth of yours," Cage flashed a wicked grin, showing off his stained yellow and slightly red-pinkish teeth. No need for the girls to wonder where a vampire would get the reddish color from. "Maybe I'll keep it as a prize on my boots after I rip out your throat."
"Connor, you know this guy?" Dawn whispered up to him.
"We've had our run-ins," Connor briefly explained, but keeping his eyes on Cage the whole time. "I first met him back when the Beast blocked out the sun. I killed most of his crew, but he got away. Slimy bastard kept turning up with new gang members each time I saw him, and every time, he ends up leaving as a one-man gang."
"You've gotten lucky," Cage scoffed.
"Five times in a row?" Connor cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Beginner's luck," Cage growled. "I would've had southern LA all wrapped up by now, but your pissant daddy - the big, bad Angelus - had to go and drop the Big Stone and bring back that nasty sun. The undead community's just a little pissed about that."
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure Angel and his gang are peeing in their pants," Dawn snarked, surprising herself, and her friends even more so. "I mean, given that what they do for a living is hunt and kill demons and vampires, I'm sure they're just petrified at the thought of a couple of sorry demon imitation Hell's Angels being annoyed with them."
The vampire cocked his head to look at Dawn, incredulously, before his demonic face began to leer at her, creeping Dawn out to the max.
"Hey, Junior, who's the jail bait you got there?" Cage taunted. "Not that I mind you bringing along a couple of extra rounds for me and my boys, in all senses of the word…" The rest of the demons began to laugh darkly.
Dawn, Molly and Vi collectively shuddered. The innuendo was not lost on them.
Connor's dark smile began to twist into a cold, hard battle glower. "Your dust will be blowing in the wind before you touch any of them."
"Is that right?" Cage snarled. "Do you really think you can beat us down here? Daddy and his playmates aren't here to save you this time, freak."
"They weren't there the last couple of times I whipped your asses, either," Connor retorted, an evil gleam in his eyes as he took a small step forward towards his opponent.
"Yeah, but you were by yourself that time," Cage reminded him, turning a hungry gaze behind Connor towards the two nervous Potentials and Dawn. "Didn't have to worry about protecting a bunch of scared little girls."
A light bulb went up in Dawn's brain at his words.
"You're the one that should be worrying, Platelet Breath," Dawn puffed up, mustering her bravest stare.
"Oh, is that so?" Cage asked patronizingly.
"Yeah, that's so," Dawn evenly shot back, summoning bravado she had no idea she had. "Or maybe you haven't heard the term…" Here goes nothing… "Vampire Slayer?"
Cage's grin fell off his face at hearing those words.
Connor's eyes turned to her, the boy staring at Dawn in disbelief.
Murmurs of "Slayer?" "Another one?" and "No way!" ran like wildfire though the stunned and suddenly very wary vampire gang.
Molly and Vi were staring at Dawn in shock. Molly said to Dawn in a low hiss, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
"Yeah. I'd like to know that myself," Connor cut in, glaring hard at Dawn. Just what was this girl thinking? If she was even thinking at all!
"Saving our asses, maybe, so shut up and get ready," Dawn whispered through clenched teeth, hoping that the vampires didn't hear them.
Cage composed himself and scoffed. "Nice try, sweetheart. But I've seen the Slayer during the sun-go-bye period here. She's taller, wears a ton of leather and has black hair. You don't even come close to that description. You're no Slayer. Just a tasty bite-sized appetizer waiting to happen."
Time to play my trump card, Dawn thought.
"You saw Faith, the other Vampire Slayer," Dawn smiled knowingly, drawing herself up to her full height, which was about an inch taller than her sister. "The one that came after me."
Cage raised an eyebrow, confused. "After you?"
Vi got the idea suddenly of what Dawn was about to do. And she was hoping to God that she was wrong. But, then again, given Dawn's increasingly zany plans, she knew that the odds were such that she wasn't wrong, that the Key was about to do something real stupid.
"That's right," Dawn mustered up a cocky grin. "Allow me to introduce myself. Maybe you've heard of me." She took in a deep breath, her hands rested on her hips, her best superheroine pose. Please let this work, please let this work…
"I'm Buffy Summers. The Vampire Slayer."
Back at the Hyperion Hotel
"I don't care if you're the construction foreman of the freakin' millennium, you're not getting this room!"
Anya stood unwavering, her hands placed on either one of both perfectly sculpted hips. Her pixie-ish features were hardened into a merciless scowl, as she laid down the law to her former fiancé.
Xander, not one to be intimidated easily - not by his ex, anyway - glared back. "I put my bags in there first, Ahn! First come, first served. You oughta know that, what with being in the retail business for two years and change."
"Wanna know what else I learned about during my time in the Magic Box?" Anya retorted as she stormed back into the room, only to emerge not five seconds later, Xander's luggage in hand. "Right to refusal!" she snapped, as she disdainfully threw down his luggage at his feet.
All the while, Fred and Gunn stood by, watching the entire display between the ex-almost-newlyweds; and, as anyone would seeing the dynamic between the two, they watched amazed.
"Well, that's just great, isn't it?" Xander snapped. "You think you can just do whatever you want? Queen Anya just snaps her fingers and 'hey presto!', we all bow down to her infallible will! After all, who are we lowly non-ex-vengeance-demon types to question her?"
"Listen, Harris," she began warningly. "If you think -"
"There's another room just like it!" Fred blurted out.
All three heads swiveled to the petite Texan, making her blush somewhat at all the attention. She wasn't accustomed to having so much attention - or any attention, really - thrown her way.
"What other room?" Xander asked.
"Yeah, what other room?" Gunn frowned.
Fred rolled her eyes as she glanced at her ex-boyfriend. "This is a hotel, Charles. Or it's s'pposed to be, anyway. What about the room upstairs, directly above us?"
"The one with the balcony view?" Gunn asked.
Xander considered it. "How good of a view is -"
"There's a view?" Anya asked abruptly, her hazel eyes wide.
"Well, sure there is, yeah," Fred nodded. "You should see it during the sunrise, the way the sunlight bounces off the city skyline is just…"
"Wonderful!" Anya brightened, picking up her valises. "I'll take it. And you can show me where it is, so I can sleep there first. Before Xander." She turned to her ex-fiancé with a triumphant smile.
Xander thrust his hands into his pockets, attempting to keep himself civil. "You know, Anya, this whole 'I-get-it-before-you-do' phase might be interpreted by someone as kind of sad, if not outright pathetic." Key word, attempting.
Anya smirked. "Well, gee, now, that hurts real bad, Xander." She feigned a sigh. "I guess I'll just go up to my giant, spacious balcony room and cry, cry and cry away, and watch as the tears sparkle…as I'm greeted by a majestic sunrise, with a balcony to tan and eat a wonderful breakfast to bask in the glow of the city."
She patted him with mock affection on the arm. "Oh, but don't worry, I'm sure you'll see them. That is, if you can stick your head out of the small, cramped little windows in the room, or squeeze it past the air conditioner lodged in the biggest window in the room. You shouldn't miss it."
She turned back to Fred. "My room, please?" she smiled with abundant enthusiasm.
Fred managed to suppress her laughter and nodded, showing her up the stairs.
Xander gritted his teeth, calling back resentfully, "Well…fine! Go, and….enjoy your stupid room! Who needs a balcony view, anyway? All that…fresh air, and….sunbathing, and…view?"
Gunn smirked. "Uh, yeah…'cause then she might get a really nice tan. Who wants that?"
Xander sighed, deflating. "Have I mentioned how much my life completely sucks, lately?"
Gunn patted the other young man sympathetically on the shoulder. "Welcome to the club, bro."
"I hate this club," Xander muttered. "Been a member of it ever since I was born. I don't see any fringe benefits with my membership yet."
"All the misery and donuts you can possibly stomach?" Gunn offered, grinning.
His offbeat joke drew a small chuckle from Xander. Finally, someone with a sense of humor around here!
"Sorry, didn't mean to sound off with the whining," Xander smiled faintly. "God knows I didn't need to add my own flaming hoop to the circus of angst and drama around here. Gunn, right?" he asked as he extended his hand.
"One and only," Gunn nodded, shaking Xander's hand.
"That's a mighty cool name. Strikes fear in the hearts of bad guys," Xander said, approvingly, before wistfully adding, "The only thing my name would ever evoke is the reminder that the shingles need repair."
"I dunno 'bout that," Gunn said thoughtfully. "Xander's a…different name. Maybe if you just kept the 'X' and dropped the 'ander'?"
"Right," Xander snorted, before adding dramatically, "Fear me, evil demons! For I am 'X'! Mister X. Scourge of the darkness, seedy underbelly of the underworld!" Then he thought about it.
Really thought about it. "Well, actually, now that you mention it…"
Gunn laughed. He was starting to like this guy. "Come on, Scourge Boy, let me show you 'round the joint."
After grabbing his bags and entering the room, Xander looked appreciatively at his surroundings as he basked in the room's décor. Wow, he thought, no wonder why Ahn was so mad-on for this room. This place is bitchin'!
"You know what the sad part of all this is?" Xander mused as he ran his hand appreciatively across the shiny polished wood of a hand-built coffee table, set aside a giant, cushy cedar brown leather chair. "This whole room is probably worth more than the cost of my entire apartment."
"Try seeing this place when you've been living on the streets for a few years," Gunn smiled nostalgically, thinking back to the first time he actually came to settle down in Angel's hotel.
Xander whipped his head around at Gunn after hearing that last comment. "Whoa, hang on…you were homeless?"
"Not exactly homeless in the traditional case," Charles said. "Only in the not having a real house, crashing with your crew in an abandoned warehouse basement sense…so, yeah, I guess you could say that."
Xander frowned, confused. "And I'll take a side order of 'huh?' with that 'what?', please?"
"I used to run my own demon hunting operation back in the day," Gunn explained, and Xander nodded, remembering that little tidbit from earlier on. "We were more in the wagin' war stage than looking at 'Good Housekeeping'. We never had homes, only a base for backup and support to keep fightin' the vamps in LA. After my folks died, I guess I never cared much for the whole white-picket-fence deal, you know?"
Wow, and I thought I had it rough when I had to sleep in the basement while paying rent, Xander thought sympathetically.
"Yeah. Harsh," he managed to say.
Gunn waved it away. "Ah, no big deal, I got over it. Besides, got a whole room up here to myself now."
"Yeah, well," Xander said as took another appreciative look around the room. "Let it never be said that Dead Boy never treated his pals well."
"Mmm, true," Gunn chuckled, idly picking up a framed picture on the dresser. "Cordy really loved coming in here a lot."
Xander looked up for a moment, a little unsure why those words spoken so casually made his gut wrench a little. "Oh," he said, working to make it sound as casual as possible. "She did, huh?"
"All the time," Gunn said as he began to lean on the cabinet behind him. "It got to the point where we just told her, 'Girl, either you move on in here or' -"
His sentence was cut off, when a box suddenly fell on him from the top of the cabinet.
"Ow! Damn, what the…" Gunn complained, rubbing his head.
The box had spilled most of its contents out onto the carpeted floor. Gunn grumbled as he bent down to pick up the items, "Man, I told Cordy once I told her a thousand times, not to leave her stuff lyin' 'round the damn room. But does she listen?"
"As I recall, listening isn't historically one of Cordelia's strong points," Xander smiled knowingly as he crouched down to lend a hand. Most of it was work-related stuff; invoices, client transaction numbers, and the typical office minutia that came with running a business.
Had this been four years ago, Xander would have burst out laughing at the thought of Cordelia Chase doing office work for anyone. Even when they were dating, he had always expected her to go somewhere important or exotic after Graduation, leaving Sunnydale behind in her dust faster than Buffy could stake a fledgling vamp.
Working for Buffy's ex-boyfriend as a secretary in an LA detective agency had never even made the radar. Funny how life works out, sometimes.
Xander paused when he took notice of something out of the past that caught his eye. Lying face up, amidst the debris of papers and folders, was a bright red book, engraved in gold letters. 'Sunnydale Class of 1999', the book read. It was her high school yearbook.
Harris could scarcely believe that Cordy had held onto it. He had assumed that she would have wanted to purge any proof or memory that she'd ever attended Hellmouth High, given her experiences there - including several obsessed high school enemies and crushes trying to kill her, the constant mayhem that included being a member of the Scooby Gang, and, lest we forget, the painful and ill-fated breakup between himself and her.
And yet, there it was. Plain as day, the book of her high school memories was right there, not a few inches from him. Before he could stop himself, Xander's hands gravitated towards the book, lifting it up from the clutter.
"Oh, hey, I haven't seen that in a while," Gunn mused, as he caught sight of the book in Xander's hands.
"Yeah, uh…" Xander was struggling with his words for a moment. "I just…I figured she would've gotten rid of this by now. High school wasn't exactly a paragon of fun for Cordy."
"She used to mention that place a lot…at first," Gunn said, absently shoving more documents into the box. "Before…all of this started to happen. Sometimes, I'd walk in here to call her down for a meeting we'd be having, and I'd catch her laughing or crying or something touchy-feely over some of the pictures in there."
As he spoke, Xander cracked open the book. As expected, there was a cramming of signatures up to infinity there. He was sure that everyone who'd been anyone back in Sunnydale would have signed the yearbook of Queen C, their 'It Girl'. He wasn't disappointed.
Pretty much the entire football team, all of the Dingoes, the cheerleaders and the long list of admirers and hangers-on (see the 'Cordettes') had all but filled it up to the brim. Xander grimaced as he passed over Harmony's signature and her lame yearbook message, when a few photos came sliding down the page. He caught them, and the images burned into the paper blasted him right back to his past.
In those pictures he and Cordelia were sitting, side-by-side, practically in each other's laps, basking in the warm glow of a bright summer day, behind them the carnival-like festivities of the Sunnydale Pier, on 'Town Appreciation Day', back in their senior year of high school.
The perfect picture of young love...before it had all gone so horribly wrong.
Yet another one, this time with a giddy, smiling Cordy piggy-back riding on top of a laughing Xander, her arms affectionately wrapped around his neck. He remembered that one pretty well. Harris remembered that he had made some Xander-esque comment about her weight, after she went on about how she couldn't eat the cotton candy for fear of going over her five-ounce daily limit of sweets.
Though visibly displeased, she'd quickly distracted him by pointing over to where she claimed some scantily-clad blonde was falling out of her top. As predicted, he turned around to look for some free action. Unpredictably, however, a playful Cordy took the opening and pounced right on top of him, surprising him to no end. He hadn't pegged Cordy as the playful, fun-loving type, and yet there she was, pranking him and having fun with him.
The girl had actually managed to topple him to the ground, landing right on top of him as the two erupted into a fit of laughter and a few soft kisses. But not before a smiling Oz had managed to snap the photo, a grinning Willow in the background, watching them.
Xander hadn't admitted it to anyone else yet, but it was at that moment when he officially saw her as more than just his girlfriend. She was one of them. A Scooby Gang member. At that moment, he'd felt completely blessed that she was his, and he was hers.
It had been one of the best days of his life, during high school.
But Xander honestly hadn't anticipated she would have treasured those photos. Or have shown them to anyone. Until one day, when he was trying to cajole her into celebrating the Scoobies' success in the SAT scores with a double date concerning bowling, which Cordy was firmly against, until some smooth talking from Xander had finally made her cave, no easy feat. And then something hanging in her locker door had caught his eyes…
Flashback - Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale
November 24th, 1998
"Hey, those are from the pier," Xander noted as he looked up at the collection of photos of he, her and their friends having fun at the pier over that summer.
Cordelia shrugged. "Yeah, I just got them developed. Why?"
Xander was astonished. "There's pictures. Of me. In your locker."
"So?" Cordelia shut the locker door, suddenly feeling a little defensive about her choice to display her boyfriend's face in her locker for all eyes to see. "I put them there because I wanted to see your face between classes, get it? So thinking about us together makes me…I don't know…HAPPY, okay? Is that such a big deal?"
Xander could tell that this was a bit hard for Cordy. She was trying to maintain her rational explanation, but the fluster and sincerity in her voice and the slight vulnerability flickering in her beautiful hazel eyes gave her away. It was very moving, seeing this girl, whose reputation had been lofted higher by her unflappable, breezy façade suddenly struggling for words, showing a little glimpse of her heart to him. Just him. Only him. He almost felt unworthy of such an honor, and yet, this was one of those things that she, in his relationship with her, had simply surprised him with yet again.
Smiling gently, Xander took her soft hand into his. "It is to me. I never knew I was locker door material."
They stared into each other's eyes, as if they were the only two people in the world, he with understanding and warmth in his eyes, she with unbridled adoration. Things that neither one of them were accustomed to. Until now.
Of course, she had to return to form.
"Well, just barely. Besides…I look really cute in those pictures," Cordelia sighed, but linking her arm in his as they walked down the hallway to meet their friends…
"Yeah, those are her favorite," Gunn said with a small chuckle as he finally finished putting away all of Cordelia's things. "If I had a nickel for every time I caught her looking at those photos, man…"
Xander kept looking at the pictures. "Yeah…I…I just…I thought that the last thing she'd have lying around are pictures of me. Well, of us. She told me she'd burned everything after we…stopped seeing each other."
Gunn looked at him, confused. "Why would she want to do that? Unless you were…" Suddenly, the black man's eyes lit up with understanding. "Holy shit. You're him, aren't you?"
"Him? 'Him' who?" Xander asked, a little puzzled.
Gunn snapped his fingers, trying to recollect a name on the tip of his tongue. "Harry…Harlis…Harris! Xander Harris, right?"
Now, Xander's wig radar had gone completely blinky. She had mentioned him? Gunn knew his whole name?
"Uh…I guess," he replied cautiously.
"Man!" Gunn laughed. "I can't believe this! You're the guy that had her wound up in knots in high school?"
Xander shrugged. "Well, yeah, but…" He paused, slightly smiling. "Huh. Did she say I had her wound up in knots?"
"Damn, dog!" Gunn slapped his knee. "She used to go on and on about you when she'd look in this book."
"Really?" Xander couldn't help but to grin. Cordy had talked about him? Cordelia? Still talked about him? About them?
"Yeah, there was a whole mess o' names she called you," Gunn snickered. "Let's see, there was 'Noodle Boy', 'Zeppo Boy', 'Wal-Mart Boy', 'Fish Boy', 'King-of-Monster-Love-Boy', 'Lame Boy', a whole lotta other 'boys' too."
Xander felt his jaw drop and his little balloon of hope for…something…deflate. So, even after all these years, Cordy still had that bite to go with her bark. Even though their verbal repartee, which was legend in Scooby lore, was something he had actually looked forward to - deep down, he couldn't deny that her scathing remarks were something that actually hurt.
His mistake was often underestimating her intelligence, which Cordelia had kept well-hidden under her cool, brusque façade, so often that Xander sometimes forgot himself. And because they knew each other so well, she knew exactly where the Achilles heel to his ego was, and she never hesitated to lash out whenever she was pushed or inclined.
"Well, that's Cordelia for you," Xander replied, slightly tart, slightly reflectively. "Sugar and spice and everything bile-y."
Strangely enough, one of the things I've missed about her, he thought.
"Yeah," Gunn said, his laughter dying down. "But you know, you really did hurt her back then, man. I could tell."
Guilt crept up Xander's insides at his words. Of all the things he had ever regretted doing in his life, one of the worst was his moment of weakness when he fell into Willow's embrace the night that Spike had kidnapped them - hurting one of the people he cared most for in this world, Cordelia, when she and Oz had risked their lives to actually come to save them.
"She told me 'bout what went down between you two. How you two went out for a while, then you cheated on her with Red. Girl wasn't the same after that," Gunn said, frankly. "She trusted you. Even though she wouldn't admit it, Cordy probably still carried a little bit of a torch for you. So, yeah, she was burned real bad."
Xander sighed heavily, looking down at his shoes. What was he supposed to say to that?
"I'm not proud of what I did," he finally said aloud. "It was stupid, it was a mistake, and it was incredibly selfish. Believe me, I tried to make it up to her, but she wouldn't have it. Cordy wouldn't even look at me after we broke up."
"Well, put yourself in her shoes," Gunn answered tartly. "Would you?"
Xander thought about it for a moment. "No, probably not," he relented.
"Forgiving somebody you love after they break your trust like that, that's harder than you could possibly imagine."
Xander's mind suddenly flashed with the revolting images of Anya in the throes of passion with Spike on the table within the Magic Box, their own hangout spot. He felt something die a little within him, forcing away those memories.
"Believe me," Gunn snorted bitterly. "I know."
"Yeah?" Xander's interest suddenly piqued up. "Care to share?"
Gunn's dark eyes peered back up at him. "You know that girl who just took your ex upstairs?"
Xander's eyes widened, abruptly recalling that part of the recent conversation downstairs. "Fred? Well, kudos to you, buddy. She's a real cutie."
"Yeah," Gunn sighed. "We were together for quite a few months…until recently. I mean, we were having some problems before, complicated stuff…" Charles could still hear the 'crack' of Professor Seidel's neck breaking before he'd shoved his corpse into the swirling vortex. "…but I thought we could work through them. Didn't count on Wes stepping into the picture," he ended up bitterly.
Xander was taken aback. "Wesley? Bookworm Wesley? 'I-Myself-Faced-A-Vampire-Once' Wesley?" he exclaimed.
"I guess you're talkin' 'bout the old version of English," Gunn said, brushing that aside. "Giant glasses, iron-pressed shirts and whatnot?"
"Pretty much," Xander said. It was word association to him. He always associated Wesley with the stuffy, Pierce Brosnan-y looking suit from back during the old Hellmouth High days.
"That Wes couldn't have stolen a chick from a nest," Gunn said, shaking his head. "Did you get a look at the new version downstairs, though?"
Xander considered that for a moment. "Actually…now I can see your problem," he nodded. After all, Wes had finally hit puberty, so talk about steep competition.
Gunn scowled briefly for a moment. "Tell me about it. That's the thing. The whole time, I knew he was makin' eyes at Fred. I saw the way he was looking at her, I saw what he was thinking. But still…I never saw it coming."
"You mean…Wes and Fred…?"
"I walked in on 'em during a research party a few weeks back," Gunn recalled. "They had that awkward 'Uh-Oh-Hand's-In-the-Cookie-Jar' look on their faces. You know, faces flushed, that guilty look, glancing everywhere but at you? Anyway…that's when I knew Fred had started lookin' at other fish in the sea."
"Ouch," Xander winced in sympathy, he knew that look well. "How'd you deal?"
The ex-gang leader shrugged. "Wes and I threw down, I accidentally hit Fred in the process, and we broke up a few hours later."
"Huh," was all that Xander could reply. That sounded way nasty, even compared to his and Cordelia's disastrous break-up.
Xander knew the feeling that Gunn was talking about. That horrid, ripping sensation when you know that the person you love had just ripped out your heart, thrown it in the mulcher, and fertilized the lawn with it. He remembered with vivid pain how he, in a fit of jealous rage, had nearly killed Spike that night that he'd seen Anya and him having sex. The fury, the betrayal, the hurt and anguish and pain…
And, oh dear God, Harris suddenly thought with remorse. That's how Cordelia felt when she saw me kissing Willow.
"You, uh…you think you've still got a shot with her?" Xander asked. Off Gunn's stare, he clarified, "Fred, I mean. Not that it's any of my business, of course; just wonderin'."
Gunn paused, thinking pensively. He hadn't actually considered that. Since their breakup, he had often thought, even dared to hope that maybe, somehow, some way, he and the beautiful physicist could finally patch things up. That Fred would tell him that she only had eyes for him now, that Wesley was only a passing phase of temporary insanity, that they would end up together under the covers making sweet love again, be together like he knew somewhere deep in his heart that they should be.
"Don't know," Gunn sighed honestly. "I don't know what's gonna happen, I don't even know if I'll be breathin' long enough to figure it out."
"Well, I'm no Dr. Phil or anything," Xander ventured. "'Cause you could tell by the way I've still got hair, but…knowing what's going down, what may go down, knowing what you just told me…isn't that all the more reason to tell her how you feel?"
"No disrespect, bro," Gunn said practically, but not mean-spiritedly. "But if you're so sure about that, isn't it about time you start applyin' that to your own life? Practice what you preach with your own ex?"
Xander wanted to say something, but he could not. Gunn was right. What could he really say? And how could he practice what he preached, when he wasn't even sure what he wanted? Assuming that Anya and he didn't get killed anytime soon...
The discussion was abruptly halted, however, when the door swung open fast to reveal Lorne's bruised face.
"Hey, guys, sorry about the raid entrance," the Host said rapidly. "But we've got trouble."
There was an audible gasp, or as much as vampires could gasp without breath.
Molly's eyes looked like they were about to explode out of their sockets, Vi's mouth hung agape, and Connor was staring at Dawn as if she had two heads.
And, much to Dawn's and everyone's surprise, the demons actually took a few steps back.
A few fearful steps.
Their murmurs were heard loud and clear:
"Buffy Summers?" one vampire asked, disbelievingly.
"Buffy freakin' Summers? The Vampire Slayer? She's here?" another exclaimed, panicked.
"I heard she defeated a god!"
"I heard she killed the Master, choke-slammed him right on a stake!" yet another said. "She even ground his bones into dust with a sledgehammer!"
"I heard she took down the Order of Taraka's finest!"
"I heard that she sent Angelus to Hell one time!"
"I heard she actually dated Angelus! Turned him into a good guy, even got him to stake Darla, his own sire!"
"I heard she kicked William the Bloody's ass like a bad habit! Got so bad that he actually changed sides to fight with her to save his own life!" another chimed in, awed. "They say she has some sort of witchcraft on the really badass vampires!"
"Yeah? I heard she killed Dracula! Twice!"
"I heard she blew up a pure demon! During an Ascension!"
"She's crazy, man! She blew up two school buildings with people inside just to get rid of all the demons!"
"They say she doesn't die...that she came back from the dead twice!" one vampire uttered. "I heard tell that she's actually an immortal!"
"She's the greatest Slayer who ever lived! She's killed thousands of us!"
Dawn felt a little swell of family pride lit up in her. To think that her big sister was the main source of fear for the demons that bumped in the dark, for the evil that lurked everywhere, and that her deeds were so fabled, well…this had to be cool. She actually started to feel goose bumps, enjoying the feeling of being the center of attention, the most feared person in the room…or sewer.
Wow, all I did was say her name - and these guys are practically wetting themselves, Dawn thought, amazed. Is this what it feels like? Is this what it feels like to be Buffy? To be a hero?
Connor himself was taken aback. Sure, he was used to spreading fear among the demon populace himself. After all, one didn't get the title of 'The Destroyer' by playing nice. But while he was feared in Quor-toth, even he had never inspired such fear within the demons in LA as to make them panic with the mere mention of his name.
But all Dawn had to do was mention that girl's name, Buffy, and the vampires went into full panic mode, something even he hadn't been able to do. This increased his curiosity towards the blonde woman whom he'd fought with earlier at the hotel, and strangely enough, even more towards her sister. Perhaps there was something that Buffy had taught Dawn that made her look so amazing, in his eyes. So willful and daring.
So…special.
"Cage, man, this is nuts! I ain't goin' anywhere near those chicks if Buffy the Vampire Slayer is backing them up!"
"She'll kill us. She'll kill all of us!" one of the vamps closest to Cage whimpered.
Cage, silent until then, responded by backhanding the underling, hard. "Shut up, you pathetic worm! You're making us look bad!"
"And, what, before you were all cover candidates for GQ or YM? As if!" Dawn scoffed. I think that's what Buffy would say, she thought apprehensively to herself, before straightening up, emboldened. Yeah, that's so a Buffy line!
Cage took a beat, measuring his words carefully. This new development was unexpected. He had anticipated a tough but victorious fight with Connor, the child of two of the most feared vampires of all time. But he had not anticipated an encounter, here, in his territory, with a living legend. With the greatest single Slayer in history.
He'd heard all the stories about this girl, this…Buffy Summers. Her reputation was nearly mythic. She had beaten some of the most feared and revered demons, even gods, who'd ever lived. Now he was having serious second, third and all the way down to eighth thoughts about messing with these kids if one of them was the legendary Slayer with the blonde hair who had...
Blonde? Cage's head started to put two and two together. Wait a minute -
He took another leering look at Dawn, who fought back the instinctive urge to cringe, as he let out a small chuckle.
"Hah! Nice try, sweet thing," Cage smiled evilly as he sauntered forward. "You almost had me there for a second. But you see…Buffy," he spat sarcastically. "When one builds up a rep like you have, people tend to remember the little things. Like that the infamous Buffy Summers is a small, but powerful, unbeatable…blonde Slayer. Not a small, powerful unbeatable brunette."
Uh-oh! Busted!
Dawn's mind started its segue between panic and quick thinking. Damn it, why couldn't Buffy have inherited Dad's hair color instead of Mom's? Come on, think, Dawn, THINK!
Luckily, she quickly came up with an answer. "Ever heard of hair dye, Fang Face? Girls use it, you know. Oh, wait," she paused, looking over Cage's balding head. "I guess you wouldn't, huh?"
Hair dye? Oh, my God, that was sooo lame, Dawn mentally winced.
Hair dye? How lame was that? Molly thought.
Cage let out an angry growl, moving to advance, which drew Connor to step further in front of Dawn. But one of the vampires held him back.
"That's gotta be Buffy Summers, man!" he said. "They say she toys with her victims before she…" he drew a finger across his throat. "She's like a big cat playing with mice -"
"The only mouse here I see is you, Charlie," Cage snapped as he grabbed a fistful of the vamp's jacket and held him closer with one hand. "Now, shut up and let me do the talking, unless you want me to stake you myself - got it?"
The fledgling only nodded dumbly as Cage shoved him away, not taking his eyes off the youths.
"He's not buying it," Vi muttered in a small singsong voice to Dawn.
"Let's wait 'til we know that," Dawn sing-songed back.
Cage sauntered forward, a confident look playing across his demonic visage. "What do you think, that I was born yesterday? Well, my 79th birthday actually was yesterday, but that's besides the point…nothing about you screams 'Slayer', little girl. If you really were the infamous Buffy Summers, the Slayer of a Thousand Vampires, you'd be a lot more confident than what you are right now. I can smell your fear, sweetie. It's like a big, wafting perfume. Nothing that a Slayer would have," he grinned nastily. "Besides, look at you. You don't even have a -"
Without warning, Dawn reached behind a surprised Connor's waistband and was suddenly armed with the Slayer's traditional weapon of choice.
"...stake," Cage suddenly swallowed, caught off-guard.
With a silent prayer that this next move would work, Dawn kept her eyes on the vampires, her eyes on Cage, while she twirled the stake readily in her hands, her fingers working frantically to keep the balance of the wood between them as it twirled rapidly.
She was only going from what she'd seen Buffy do a thousand times in training, playing with the wooden weapon in her hands like it was a piece of yarn, effortlessly speeding and spinning back and forth between the Slayer's hands. Buffy had only given Dawn a quick crash course in the technique one time earlier during the summer, while training her little sister.
Dawn was only paying half-assed attention to it that night, though, something she was partially kicking herself for mentally right now. But she did remember one bit of advice from her famous big sister:
The key to the stake, like with fighting, is balance. Lose your balance, lose your weapon…lose your life.
Never had that statement held more weight than in this very moment. Where her life, and Connor's, and the lives of her friends were relying on whether she could do tricks with a piece of wood, like her sister, the world-renowned Buffy Summers.
Please, oh, please, oh, please, don't slip, Dawn silently pleaded with the stake. Or fly loose, or, or…just don't, okay?
For a while, it worked perfectly. She spun the stake, seemingly effortlessly, up and around. Frontways and sideways. To the left and to the right. Round and round. Back and f -
- flying.
Away. As in, out of her hands.
Dawn panicked. Oh, NO!
Vi and Molly gasped loudly, and Connor tensed himself for battle as they watched the stake soaring through the air -
- and slamming home in the chest of one of the vampires just to Cage's right.
Bull's eye.
Dawn's eyes widened in shock as the vampire looked up, dumfounded before he exploded into dust, the undead skeleton appearing for a mere fraction of a second.
Cries of awe and fear spread like fire though the vampires as they looked wildly between Cage, the dusted remains of their companion, and the infamous 'Buffy'.
Molly, wide-eyed, shook her head in amazement. "Wow! You never told me you could do that, Da - uh, Buffy!" she caught herself just barely, remembering about vampires' super-enhanced hearing.
"Holy crap!" Vi said with wonder, trading glances between Dawn and the suddenly terrified vampires. "You just dropped that vamp like a bad habit! That was so cool!"
Dawn, still in shock, barely acknowledged their enthusiasm. "Uh…thanks?"
Connor looked at her intently. She felt a little self-conscious under the handsome boy's scrutinizing gaze. Finally, he gave a faint smile and nodded. "Not bad."
Dawn's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yeah…" He looked back at the pile of dust. "For 'Buffy Summers', anyway."
The Slayer's sister smiled back sheepishly at him. "Yeah, well…that'll be our little secret, 'kay?"
Cage stared back up at this young girl, who had just staked one of his gang in the blink of an eye. If he wasn't a believer before, well, there was his proof, in the form of vampire dust at his feet.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said, a touch of awe in his voice.
"Already are," Connor retorted.
He stared at Dawn. "You really are her, huh? Buffy Summers. The Buffy Summers. Living legend."
Dawn squared her shoulders and straightened her posture, a gleam coming to her eyes, the confidence shooting right back into her. "Told ya." She looked at the vampires, who were suddenly quaking in fear. In her best cocky voice, "I'm Buffy Summers. The Vampire Slayer. Scourge of the Underworld. Slayer of gods and demons…"
My God, could I sound any more like a bad episode of Xena? Dawn rolled her eyes inwardly, before summoning a cold smile at the demons. "Now…who else wants to play?"
"Screw this, man, I'm getting out of here!" one of them shouted as he headed for the exit.
Cage whipped out a stake of his own, and, without looking, let the stake fly, hitting the minion square in the back, piercing the heart. The vampire groaned just before he exploded in a cloud of dust.
"Cage, have you lost it?" another one cried. "He was one of us!"
"No one turns chicken and runs out in my gang," Cage retorted angrily.
Dawn stared in shock at the head vampire. Without hesitation, he had just staked one of his own kind. Clearly, this bloodsucker was particularly vicious.
"Besides," Cage said, his malicious grin growing wider as he took two steps toward Dawn. "A thought just occurred to me. Not only do I have Mr. Souled Vamp's kid right in front of me, ripe for the pickin'," he said as his eyes ticked between Connor and back to Dawn.
"But now, I'm being graced by the presence of Buffy Summers, the Slayer. The Legend, the greatest and biggest and baddest of them all. Now, imagine how it'll look on my resume…if I can say that I snuffed out the great Buffy Summers with my own hands."
Cage's demonic yellow eyes glowed with glee as he dreamily anticipated his future. "My rep will be set up for life. Everywhere I go, in whatever town, in whatever bar, I'll be known as 'Cage, The One that Killed the Greatest Slayer Ever'. They'll be flocking in drones to join my gang. I'll have demons linin' up from Tinseltown to Tallahassee beggin' me to let them in, hell, I'll have to become exclusive - only the baddest, only the toughest. Forget about LA, I'll be respected and feared throughout the whole world. And the women..." he licked his chops at the thought, "I'm talkin' chicks up the wazoo, sweetie…and all I have to do, is wrap my hands around your pretty little throat and make you just a bad memory."
Dawn felt a chill go up her spine. SOO not the way I hoped this would go!
"Oh, that's great," Molly muttered. "Now, he's even more determined to kill us!"
Although becoming increasingly terrified, Dawn kept up her bravado. "Okay, first off: 'The One that Killed the Greatest Slayer Ever?' Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. Second: you really think it's that easy, huh? You just kill me, walk around with another notch on your belt? I've been killing vampires for years, Chrome Dome. The baddest of them. Hell, I even killed a god! You can't even beat Connor over here, so how the hell do you expect to take me on?"
"Hey!" Connor protested, annoyed.
"No offense," Dawn added quickly.
Remembering that it was all a part of her ruse, the boy nodded, although slightly miffed. "None taken…I guess."
Dawn returned her gaze at Cage. "Here's the deal. You're going to let me and my friends get to where we need to go. After that, you're going to leave. And take your skuzzy little Lost Boys-wannabes with you. You leave LA and never, ever show your faces around here again. And in return, I'll be nice enough not to slowly, systematically and painfully kill each and every last one of you. Starting with you. And believe me, when I say that I am not joking…I'm the Slayer. Death Incarnate. I have the power here. Not you. Me."
For extra punch, Dawn scowled, threateningly. "You want to throw down? Try me."
As she uttered those words, as her glaring blue eyes radiated strength, she seemed so powerful, so convincing in her confidence in her own strength, that for a moment, even her friends, who knew the truth, believed that she, Dawn Summers, was indeed this urban legend of the feared Slayer.
The vampires seemed to fearfully retreat into themselves a little more, while Cage stared at her intensely, mulling over her words. Considering his choices.
The teens stood fast, watching his reactions carefully, all the while bracing themselves for battle. Connor had another stake in his pocket with Cage's name on it. Molly had her crossbow aimed at one of the vampires on the left and Vi was tensed for a fight…or flight. Dawn held her breath, awaiting the vampire's decision.
Finally…he nodded.
"Step aside, boys," Cage ordered the rest of his gang as he stepped to the side.
Dawn blinked, astonished. The others exchanged baffled, confused glances amongst each other. That was it? Was it really that simple? Had this vampire decided to simply let them off the hook at the threat of Buffy Summers looming over their heads?
"Really? Just like that?" Vi asked, hesitant, but awed.
"Just like that, Carrot Top," Cage responded with an all-too-phony smile. "Hey, I'm a badass, but I know my limits. After all," he shrugged as he ticked his amber eyes back to Dawn. "You're right. I'm just a lowly vampire. Who am I to argue with the great Buffy Summers, huh?"
"You'll step aside?" Dawn asked, suspiciously.
"Yeah," Cage said simply.
"You're…letting us go?" Molly inquired, still dumbfounded.
"Mm-hmm."
"And you'll leave town? Never come back here again?" Connor asked as he glared at Cage with steely eyes.
Cage nodded. "Guess so."
Dawn glanced at Connor, her eyes asking him for his opinion. Though the hesitancy and reluctance reflected in the taller boy's eyes, he shrugged, apparently agreeing.
"Well…good," Dawn said. "You've made a smart decision."
Cage's toothy smile flashed again. "Well, better hurry up, Slayer. Time's a-wastin'."
Connor took a moment to glance back at the other girls. "We move together. As a unit. If one of them decides to try anything, we can start fighting back a lot faster."
"So, what, you want us to, like, hold hands or something?" Vi raised an eyebrow.
"Vi, get in the center, Molly, get in the back, 'Buffy' will cover you," Connor told them. "I'll take the front."
"W-wait a minute, the back?" Molly protested, reluctant. "What if they grab me or something?"
"That's kinda why you have the crossbow, Moll," Dawn reminded her. "Use it."
The group moved slowly across the sewer.
Well, this is…good, Dawn mentally sighed as she and the others inched closer to the exit past the vampires, towards the factory. No tell-tale signs of any -
Cage's hand whipped out at lightning speed, grabbing a startled Dawn by the throat and pulling her face-to-face with the demon.
TROUBLE!
"Dawn!" Vi cried out as she whipped out her stake, but one of the demons roughly grabbed her, while two others cornered Molly, who shakily struggled to get a grip on her crossbow, while another knocked Connor down to the floor, hard.
"Come on, sweetie," Cage laughed cruelly as he held a frightened, struggling Dawn fast in his grip. "You didn't really think I was gonna let an opportunity like this just pass me by, did ya?"
"Mmph! Let…go…creep!" Dawn gritted out, squirming in his grasp.
"Sorry, Summers," Cage smirked as he licked his lips. "But after everything I've heard about Slayer blood…I just gotta have me a taste -"
A steely grip suddenly shot up and caught Cage by the throat, stopping the stunned vampire's words in his mouth.
"Cage," Connor glowered as he stood up, his hand gripped firmly on his enemy's neck. "She's not on the menu."
With only one arm, the male teen then threw the vampire gang leader across the sewer, slamming him right into the opposite wall. One of the other vampires ran to strike him, but Connor's lightning fast reflexes evaded the demon's blow, while his hand shot out and struck him hard across the face. After a quick kick to the kneecap, Connor grabbed the vampire and tossed him over to the one holding Vi.
The two demons collided into each other, and tumbled to the ground. Vi, thinking quickly, used the opportunity to wrench herself free, driving a stake into the one that held her. The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust. The other one got up quickly and lunged for her, but the redheaded Potential ducked quickly under his grasp, kicking him quickly and backing up to join Connor and Dawn.
"You okay?" Connor asked the Slayer's sister quickly.
Dawn only nodded dumbly, before her eyes widened. "Connor, behind you!"
Cage charged hard into Connor, who went sprawling on his back. The vampire pounced on the boy, pinning his wrists on opposite sides of him, but the cunning young warrior head-butted Cage hard. As the vampire recoiled in pain, Connor used Cage's backward momentum to his advantage, shoving him off hard, before capitalizing with a hard kick to the face.
"Help Molly! I'll take care of Cage!" Connor called out to Dawn and Vi.
Dawn pried her wide eyes off Connor's battle long enough to spot Molly in a corner, two vampires closing the gap between them fast.
"Come on!" she said to Vi before the two girls sprung into action.
Molly aimed her crossbow at the vampire on the right, but the one on the left batted it away from her, grabbing the British Potential by the scruff of her neck. Molly let out a slight whimper as the vampire growled, lowering his face to her neck. Just then, a pair of hands sent the vampire spinning away, revealing Vi standing protectively in front of her friend.
"Thanks," Molly managed, slightly clutching her throat.
"Don't mention it," Vi replied, patting her lightly on the back.
"Guys! A little help here!" Dawn cried out as she narrowly ducked under the other vampire's grasp.
"Coming, Dawnie, just a tick!" Molly shouted as she raced over to Dawn, Vi hot on her heels. The two Potentials tackled the vampire to the ground, hard. Dawn took the opportunity to help as she pounced on the vampire, all three girls now attempting to hold down the pissed-off soulless demon.
By now, Cage and Connor had made it to their feet, the vampire leering predatorily at the young warrior, who only had eyes for him.
"So, that's your backup, huh, freak?" Cage scoffed as he and Connor circled each other, testing the other's movements. "A couple of scared little girls you grabbed down here and a Slayer to do your job for you?"
He let a flying kick loose at Connor, who ducked under it and backhanded the vampire. "Not everything is about you, Cage. We've got more important things to be doing right now than play with you."
Connor lashed out with a hard right hook, but the wily Cage blocked it, grabbing the arm and twisting it behind Connor's back, hard enough to make even the super-strong male teen wince in pain.
"Playtime's over, Junior," the vampire snarled. "You won't live long enough to humiliate me again."
He shoved Connor hard to the ground, pouncing on the boy and punching him hard in the face, drawing blood.
Cage began rambling. "Every time I've come up with a new gang…"
He punched Connor again.
"Every new guy I've had to sire…"
Another blow.
"And you've always come around with your super-powers…"
And another blow.
"And your stupid stake…"
The next punch nearly knocked Connor senseless.
Cage snarled between punches. "And you keep. On. Making. Me. Look. Stupid…"
Connor's hand shot up, gripping tightly around Cage's neck, before he tossed him away. The young man quickly sprung to his feet, wiping the trickle of blood from his mouth, scowling menacingly. He hated it when he bled.
"I don't make you look stupid, Cage," Connor spat as he readied himself. "Your stupidity makes you look stupid…well, that and that lame-ass jacket you're wearing."
Cage let out an angry roar as he lunged at the boy, but Connor ducked under the vampire's grasp, punching him hard in the face, and then connecting with a crushing kick to the demon's kneecap. Judging from the sickening 'crack' sound, he knew that he had broken it. As Cage doubled over in pain, Connor followed up with a hard elbow to the face, then kicked him hard in the gut, then grabbed the vampire by the collar and sent him spinning away, slamming hard against the wall.
Meanwhile, the girls were having their hands full with their pair of vampires. By now, one of them had recovered and grabbed Dawn, hauling her away from his companion, tossing her carelessly to the ground.
Dawn back away, her warm palms stiffening at the cold, damp ground beneath her, eyes wide in fear as the chain gang vampire closed in on her, licking his chops like a cat toying with a mouse. Just as the vampire reached for her, she shot her leg out, kicking him square in the groin, doubling him over in pain. Thinking quickly, Dawn used her other leg to sweep his legs out from under him, knocking him down.
Molly and Vi tried to regain control of their vampire, but he tossed Molly backwards while he grabbed a startled Vi by her slender throat and slammed her so hard against the wall that the pretty Potential was seeing stars.
"End of the line, little girl," the vampire growled as he lowered his fangs to a gasping Vi's neck -
SCHUCK!
The vampire pulled away suddenly, looking awed at the arrow tip protruding from his chest, an instant before he burst into a cloud of dust.
Vi looked in surprise, clutching her throat, to see her savior.
"Told you I was a crack-shot," Molly smiled self-assuredly, her crossbow held firmly in her hands.
"Huh," was all Vi could muster.
Loud grunting sounds and Dawn's high-pitched squeals directed their attention towards their de-facto leader, and the girls ran towards the Key. The petite brunette was having her hands full with the vampire, the sneering demon managing to get on hand on Dawn's throat, when suddenly, Dawn scowled, elbowing the demon's arm loose, then poking him in the eyes, blinding him for a moment.
Dawn then used the opening to pull out her small black knife from her pocket. The vampire lunged for her again, but Dawn tuck-and-rolled swiftly under the vampire, plunging the knife into the demon's leg. Gotcha!
Molly and Vi looked on, impressed, before realizing that their standing about while Dawn was fighting for her life was probably likely to result in her losing of said life. With that, they bum-rushed the vampire, tackling him hard to the ground.
"Grab his legs!" Molly shouted to Vi, while the demon flailed about in their grasp.
"I'm trying!" Vi ground out. "If you could just hold his arms down, maybe he'd stop trying to punch me long enough for me to do it!"
"Molly! Stake!" Dawn called out. Sparing a quick, moment, Molly reached in her pocket and found her trusty stake, tossing it to Dawn. However, in that brief instant, the vampire batted Molly aside and pounced on Vi, who let out a startled cry. The vampire snarled as he leaned in for the kill. Completely ignoring Dawn.
That turned out to be a fatal mistake.
Dawn let out a small grunt as she raised the stake high above her head with both hands, before she plunged it into the vampire's back, who shot up in pain before he exploded into a cloud of ashes.
Vi stared up at Dawn, thunderstruck. The Slayer's sister, the one with no extraordinary powers save her incredible courage, had just saved her life.
"You okay?" Dawn asked, offering her a hand.
Vi took it, dusting herself off as she got to her feet. "I'm good. Thanks."
Molly, now standing, looked behind them at the battle between Connor and Cage. "Shouldn't we go lend Connor a hand?"
The trio watched as Connor skillfully began to dissect the vampire, ducking, dodging, striking, kicking, parrying, blocking, and punching so fluidly, so rapidly, it was almost like watching him dance.
"I think it'd almost be unfair," Dawn said as she raised her eyebrows in awe.
Cage landed hard on his back, wheezing and coughing, his blood-soaked teeth curled in a snarl. This had not gone well at all. He never got a shot at the Slayer, and this kid was kicking his butt all over the place…again. Luckily for him, he knew when to cut his losses.
"Screw this," Cage coughed, waving his hand dismissively. "You got lucky again, freak, this time. But next time, when the Slayer's not around to save your ass, you'll find me."
He scrambled up to retreat, when Connor's voice stopped him cold: "Hey, Cage!"
Stupidly, he turned around. "What?"
Connor's right hand stayed hidden for a moment -
"You forgot something."
…and then the stake came flying through the air…
…burying itself into Cage's chest. The vampire had only one second to say one last thing:
"Oh, son of a bi -"
…and then Cage disintegrated, all that remained of him scattered on the floor, the dust almost completely covering the stake that had ended his immortal life.
Connor stared at the remains of the vampire, nodding in grim satisfaction. Almost immediately, the others rushed over to him, eager to check on him.
"Connor, are you okay?" Dawn asked, anxiously.
"Fine," he briefly replied, dusting himself off.
"But you're bleeding," Dawn said, as she reached up and gently touched a cut on his lip, split from one of Cage's punches.
Though through her soft touch, Connor felt a strange sense of comfort ease through him, a small shiver up his spine - something in him, some dark, dreading thing, made him want to jump back.
"Leave it, I'm fine," Connor said, gruffer than he intended to, swatting her hand away.
Dawn stepped back slightly, feeling oddly hurt by Connor's sudden change in demeanor.
When he caught the wounded look in her big blue eyes, something in the boy tightened up and felt ashamed. He hadn't meant for it to come out like that, but he was simply not used to someone tending to his wounds after a battle. He had always mended himself. Looked after himself.
The only time Connor could remember otherwise was when 'Cordelia' had nursed him after the Beast's arrival, which had resulted in several of Connor's ribs being broken, the first time he had ever been hurt so badly by anything…physically, anyway.
"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" Connor began, his sharp blue eyes filled with apology.
"Guys, not meaning to break up the fun-filled tension and all," Vi broke in, looking over her shoulder. "But, shouldn't we get a move on? Who knows how many more vampires or…whatevers, are down here?"
Sighing, Dawn checked her watch. Already an hour had passed since they had left the Hyperion, and they still weren't where 'Cordelia' was. Time was rapidly becoming an issue.
"We'd better get a move on," the Key said, moving to the front of the group. "Who knows how much time we have before fake Cordy decides to go Norman Bates on some other girl?"
"By the way, Connor, that was amazing," Molly gushed at the boy. "I've never seen anyone fight like that before."
"No kidding," Vi nodded in agreement. "You went all 'Jackie Chan' on that vampire. That was wicked awesome!"
Connor couldn't help but to manage a faint grin. "Well, I do stuff like that a lot, but…the stake thing was kinda cool, huh?"
"Ah, Buffy does that all the time," Dawn shrugged, nonchalantly.
Connor frowned, slightly miffed that Dawn wasn't quite in such awe over his skill.
"Is your sister really as good as they said she is?" Connor wondered aloud. Ever since the vampires began their hysterical ramblings about the girl whom Connor fought in the hotel, he had become curious about her. Now was his chance to find out.
"Even more," Dawn replied, proudly. "She's the baddest Slayer who ever carried a stake."
"Well, she seemed pretty strong," Connor mused. "Still…I think I could take her."
Dawn snorted, regarding the boy strangely. "Nuh-uh! That fighting thing you did back there was cool and all, but Buffy would've been done with them and be halfway home to watch 'American Idol' in half the time."
"No, she couldn't," Connor said defensively.
Dawn rolled her eyes at the boy. "She sooo could."
"Could not."
"Could, too."
"Could, not," Connor said, but now with a grin.
Dawn caught his gaze and, despite herself, smiled mischievously. "Could, too."
"Could not."
"Could, too."
"Could not."
"Could, too."
And on and on they went as they walked down the sewers, neither of them noticing Molly and Vi exchanging knowing smiles and giggles between them.
Ah, to see one's selves, as others would see them…
Back at the Hyperion Hotel…
"Alright, start talking and make it fast!" Buffy glowered menacingly at Skip, standing directly in front of the red prism trapping him.
"I'd suggest you listen to the lady," Angel glared at the mercenary demon, standing to Buffy's right, just a pace or two away. "You wouldn't like to see her get cranky."
The entire roster for both groups had convened in the lobby within moments of Lorne's distress call to Angel's room. The Potentials were still getting settled in, and had been told to stay in their rooms until further notice; something most of them had no problems with, the nightmare of the Bringers still fresh in their minds.
But Gunn, Fred and Lorne were present, each sitting or standing alongside each other, Wesley and Darla shoulder to shoulder, along with Willow and Kennedy (who was still glowing from her late afternoon roll in the sack with the redhead), Spike and Andrew flanking Faith, Principal Wood just to the left of the dark-haired Slayer, Anya just behind Xander, and Giles standing just behind the two Chosen warriors.
An impressive collection of heroes amassed in one room. Intimidating, even to an arrogant smart-ass like Skip.
"You guys are just wasting your time," the silver demon snorted, feigning fearlessness. "Nothing I tell you, or told you already, is gonna make one lick of difference."
"Cut the doom and gloom, Metallo," Buffy snapped. "I want to hear everything you know. Right now."
"Points for the DC comic book reference," Andrew nodded, pleased.
Spike and Faith exchanged a small glance with each other, and the vampire nodded, smacking the blonde geek hard upside the head. "Shut up and pay attention, you git!" Spike kept his voice to a low growl.
"Geez! Just saying," Andrew murmured, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.
"What's taken over Cordy? The truth," Angel asked, his voice icy with demand.
"Gosh, what's with the rush, you guys?" Skip smirked knowingly. "It wouldn't happen to be 'cause those wacky, crazy kids of yours went off rushing out of the hotel looking like they were off to stop Armageddon itself, now, is it?"
Buffy's chest felt tightened at his words. "You saw them leave? Dawn and Connor?"
"Well, yeah," the demon casually replied. "That little monitor system over there on the desk has pretty good feed on the entire hotel." He glanced smugly at Lorne. "Saw the little sprout nail you a good one. Heh, definitely got a kick out of that."
Lorne's red eyes narrowed and he stood up, menacingly, but Fred stayed him with a soft look and shaking her head. Reluctantly, the green-skinned demon sat back down, shooting death glares at Skip.
"Funny you find pain so amusing," Buffy smiled sweetly. "Now, unless you find your own excruciating torment to be a laugh riot, my suggestion? Less evil banter, more intel."
"I'll ask again: what's taken over Cordy?" Angel said, his patience reaching its limits.
"Something beyond your comprehension," Skip sneered. "To give it voice…would be to rend your feeble brains to a quivering mass of…"
"Willow?" Angel snapped, effectively bored with Skip's posturing. "Infinite Agony."
The witch had a small, dark glimmer in her eyes that made Skip more than a little nervous. "Way ahead of you, Big Guy," she smirked as she raised her finger at Skip.
"OKAY!" Skip jumped back, staring in horror at Willow as if she had a loaded gun aimed at his face. Which, essentially, she did. "You got me, fine. It doesn't even have a name."
"Oh, come on - everything has to have a name," Xander snorted. "Even the First Evil has a name. The First, see? Come on, it doesn't have a cute cuddly nickname all the girls at the 'U of Evil' called it back in the old days?"
"Xander, do be quiet," Giles said reflexively.
"Well, if it doesn't have a name, then what the hell do you call it?" Gunn gruffly asked the demon.
"Just master, or…'hey'," Skip shrugged.
After a beat, Faith snorted. "Anyone ever tell you that you're really pathetic?"
Lorne winced. "Unspeakable horror. For real this time."
Angel began to sort this out, mentally retracing what had happened to Cordy over the summer. "No, it doesn't make sense. Cordy was made a higher being because she'd proved herself to the Powers by bearing their visions. This thing couldn't have -"
"Unless - it maneuvered her to inherit the visions in the first place," surmised Wesley, appearing to suddenly have an epiphany.
"Uh-oh. Better step on it. The rubes are catching up," Skip muttered wryly.
Giles began to analyze the situation. "Perhaps…it wasn't just her a-ascension."
"Oh, yeah," Skip said. "Better get to Mr. Peabody and the Way-Back Machine. Think back to when she first inherited the gift of the visions."
Angel swallowed hard as he remembered. "Doyle."
Buffy knew that name. She remembered a guy - nice-looking, Irish, kind of a weary look in his eyes - she'd met in Angel's office when she came to LA to see Angel four years ago, after the Thanksgiving from hell.
They had only spoken once or twice during that time, but she remembered him to be really nice. And she'd known even without seeing the pained glance in Angel's dark eyes that his death four years ago had touched Angel deeply, even to this day.
"Who's Doyle?" Faith asked, puzzled.
"One of the first members of Angel Investigations," Wesley explained, solemnly. "He was the one who originally received the visions, but he passed them on to Cordelia just before he died saving Angel's life."
"Oh, yeah," Spike tactlessly recalled. "That little poncy-lookin' Mick with the bad hair and crappy dress sense. I remember him."
Angel whirled on the younger vampire, his dark eyes flashing. "Never talk that way about Doyle in my presence again, boy."
Spike was about to retort, when Buffy intervened. "Spike…don't make this any harder than it already is, okay?"
Spike scowled, but said nothing further.
Kennedy raised her eyebrows as she saw the two ensouled vampires stare each other down. "Whoa, check out the undead testosterone levels."
Robin took a moment to think about that. "The undead have testosterone levels?"
"Okay, getting back on track," Willow drew their attention. "What did this Doyle guy have to do with Cordelia's whole evil make-over?"
"Wasn't just dumb luck that that girl came into his life," Skip continued, turning his gaze to Angel. "See, the Big Cheese knew that your little friend was gonna be all noble and take one for the team. But if he'd have passed on the visions to you, well, that would've mucked up the whole plan."
"So Cordelia was placed there to inherit the visions in his place," Buffy realized.
"Right on the nose, blondie," Skip nodded. "In order for this thing to have gone down like it has, the visions had to be inherited by someone of the fairer sex. A member of the Y-chromosome club wasn't gonna cut it."
Angel frowned as he began to understand, with sickening realization, what Skip was trying to say. "Everything that's happened to Cordy in the past few years, all of it…was planned."
"You really think it stops with her, amigo?" Skip sneered, waving his hand around. "Do you have any concept of how many lines of destiny have to intersect in order for a thing like this to play out properly? How many events have to be nudged in just the right direction?"
His eyes ticked to Lorne. "Leaving Pylea."
Lorne's gaze narrowed, his thoughts traveling back to his native home world, Pylea, the day he'd left all those years ago. He remembered his wistful, yet relieved smile as he took one last look at his home, where his bearded mother stood glowering disapprovingly at him, his brother Numfar gyrating along to the ridiculous Dance of Joy, as he'd left home for what would be the (next to) last time before that bright spiralling portal suddenly opened up in the middle of the forest and sucked him out of the music-less Pylea, setting him down on Earth.
The place where he'd used his demon powers at the now-defunct nightclub Caritas to read auras and destinies, offer drinks and guide those who were lost onto their rightful path. A path that had led him directly into the lives of a heroic, but guilt-ridden vampire-with-a-soul with a storied, but dark past behind him and a great big destiny before him, a brave ex-Watcher, a feisty Seer, a brash young street thug/vampire killer, and a bashful physics genius/inventor.
Those who would lead him, the disgraced Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan, into adventures and perils he'd only dared to dream of, or watch on rental from Blockbuster. Those who would become more his family than those in Pylea could ever be.
Then Skip turned to Gunn. "Your sister."
Gunn's scowl masked the flash of inner grief as he thought of his dear little sister, Alonna, screaming in terror, crying out desperately for him as she was dragged away in that van, being bitten fiercely by those vampires. His only living link to his blood family ripped away from him, becoming even more final as he unwillingly flashed back to the stake in his hand, squishing, breaking through skin and bone, as he ended the un-life of his newly-sired sister, an experience that had left him feeling more empty and alone than he had felt since his parents were killed all those years ago.
Also by vampires.
Ironic how it was a vampire, with a soul, who'd helped to give the former leader of the vampire-hunting Venice Boulevard Crew a new family, a new place, and a new mission in his otherwise chaotic life.
Skip turned to Fred. "Opening the wrong book."
Fred's eyes widened in horror as she recalled that fateful night in that public library seven years ago, remembered innocently uttering strange words without vowels from an old book, one recommended to her by her trusted Professor Seidel.
Remembered that swirling vortex of light opening from out of nowhere in the middle of the black-and-white tiled floor, which - while liberating Lorne from his oppressive home - had sucked her away from her comfy life on Earth as an brilliant up-and-coming undergraduate physics student at UCLA, and into a five-year sentence of hard labor, torment, and near-insanity as a slave, a 'cow' in the strange alien world of Pylea.
Until Angel and his friends had rescued her and brought her back to LA, took her in, slowly helped her re-assimilate into the world and made her one of their own.
Skip swiveled towards Wesley. "Sleeping with the enemy."
Wesley's stern blue eyes reflected his astonishment. He ruefully remembered his lost Lilah, and their twisted tryst, the perverted kinks and love-hate sexual chemistry they had shared with each other.
Wes also remembered the oddly-placed, but beautiful little spark of joy in Lilah's eyes when he'd confirmed their relationship by his use of the R-word, after one of their many nights of passion. He had often wondered, with no loss of guilt, whether or not he'd helped to make her weaker. Softened her guard, lowered her defenses long enough for Lilah Morgan - the coldest, most ruthless lawyer in the nest of vipers that was Wolfram & Hart - to walk into the disasters that befell her, ultimately leading to her untimely death at the hands of 'Cordelia'.
Skip glanced at Darla. "Failing the Trials."
Darla's beautiful features tightened in surprise as her mind took her back to the Great Hall where the Trials had taken place. She could still see Angel, bruised, suffering, but fighting relentlessly…for her. For her life. Which was fading fast, thanks to Wolfram & Hart's resurrection of her human body in a terminally ill state.
Darla could still recall the deep breath, the sigh of relief, as Angel had emerged, alive and well, victorious. And she could vividly remember the look of loss, of grief, of utter dejection in her would-be savior's face as he'd furiously smashed everything in sight, after he'd discovered that for all his efforts, for all he'd risked, Darla's life could not be saved after all.
Skip's revelations had truly stunned them all. He smiled, well pleased with himself. "Gosh, I love a story with scope."
"So, what, you're saying that the Big Bad squatting inside Cordy has been playing puppet master with Angel and his crew for the last four years?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. "That seems pretty unlikely to me. Nothing can just…twist fate."
Skip let out a harsh chuckle as he turned his eyes towards the Slayer. "Oh, is that right, Most Blonde One? Come on. You don't think that the Monkey Boy and the rest of his chimps are the only ones who got played like fiddles, do you?"
Giles stiffened. "What are you saying?" he asked, in his even, almost deadly quiet manner.
"Yeah, Bucket O'Rusty, what are you sayin'?" Spike called up to him, perturbed. This slow burn interrogation was really starting to piss him off. He'd much rather have let the demon out of his invisible cage and just beat the info out of his shiny chrome head any day.
But no, that ponce Angel had to be all methodical, Spike thought derisively. Stupid git.
"Oh, come ON, people!" Skip groaned, astounded by the short-sightedness of this human-demon mix. "All these years you've known each other, and not once did you question the oddity of the events that unfolded? How the outcomes of your lives, your biggest battles, your darkest moments have tipped the scales so that we're all here sitting cozy right now?"
Skip slid his eyes onto Willow. "Your first major spell."
Willow's eyes widened at the reference. The Orb of Thesulah. Junior year. The spell she'd used to re-ensoul Angel, the first time he'd reverted into Angelus back in Sunnydale.
She could still remember Cordelia's firm, reassuring grip on her trembling hands, the look of fear and concern on Oz's face as she'd weakly attempted, from a hospital bed, to perform the ancient gypsy spell left behind by Jenny Calendar's final act.
Willow still remembered the unearthly jolt of power she'd felt, only moments after nearly passing out from the strain on her injured body, that suddenly overtook her and allowed her to finish the spell, restoring Angel's soul once more. One of many successful spells the redhead would end up doing over the years on the way to becoming the deadliest Wicca in the Western Hemisphere, and one of the most dangerous and powerful magic practitioners on this plane of existence.
Skip turned to Giles. "Getting picked to be a certain Slayer's personal Watcher."
Giles barely repressed a gasp as he remembered the late Quentin Travers's passive face, as the man had calmly handed him that bulky manila envelope at the Watchers Council HQ in London all those years ago with two red emboldened words that had impacted his life, and the lives of others, in more ways than he could imagine.
Two words that would bring Rupert Giles, lifelong bachelor, reckless rebel, and the formerly infamous Ripper, into the lives of an extraordinary young Slayer he would love like a daughter, and an ever-changing group of brave children he would love as family and watch blossom into heroes as they saved the world on too many occasions to count: 'Assignment: Sunnydale.'
Skip then sneered openly at Anya. "Losing your amulet."
The beautiful ex-vengeance demon vividly recalled the Wish-verse Giles smashing her precious amulet all those years ago, which had left her, the reputed and feared 1,100-year old Anyanka, trapped in the body of an 18-year-old human girl.
And leaving the door open for adventures and experiences, some good, some bad, all amazing, that she could have barely conceived even in her wildest dreams, alongside a Slayer, a witch, a Watcher, a vampire, a teenager/Key and a brave, handsome young man named Xander Harris.
Skip turned to Faith. "Waking up from your coma."
Faith's jaw dropped as she remembered the night she'd awoken after eight months of darkness and nightmares, the result of Buffy's knife buried deep in her gut all those years ago that had put her in a coma she was never supposed to awaken from.
The dark-haired young woman could still call to mind the chills in her body, the jarring nightmares, the cold sweat dripping down her face, her heart hammering in her chest, the lightning crackling and thunder rolling outside her hospital window, a nightmarish greeting to her return from her own personal hell. A second chance given to her that would later allow the former rogue Slayer to redeem herself for the bloody sins of her own treacherous past.
Skip glanced at Spike. "Getting your soul back."
Spike's blue eyes scrunched in pain as flashes of the painful, nearly fatal Trials he'd endured in the heart of Dark Africa raced through his mind. Fists of fire slamming into him, burning him, searing him...scarabs, thousands of them, crawling out from the darkness of the enchanted cave, pouring into him, crawling, devouring, engulfing him whole.
All that had paled in comparison to the ungodly agony he'd felt when his prize was given to him, though: his soul, his human conscience...and the mind-shattering torment from the remorse he'd felt for his century of evil deeds as the sadistic William the Bloody.
Skip looked towards Robin. "Your mother."
Just like that, Robin Wood was four years old again. In his mind's eye he could see his mother, his beautiful, brave mother, caressing him with soft, sweet words of love and a tender embrace before running off into that New York City subway.
Running off to meet head-on with her soon-to-be murderer, Spike. Running off to die. And leave him alone in the world, the only memory of her carried on by her Watcher, Bernard Crowley, who would raise him and train him the same way he'd trained Nikki Wood, the ways of the Slayer - his mother's legacy - in the wake of her brutal death.
Skip's words caused waves of shock to reverberate through all the Sunnydale group, Scooby and non-Scooby alike, each of them turning to one another, stunned into absolute silence. The most important events of their lives were just…manipulated? Like pieces on a chessboard?
Skip saved the best shock, however, for the least likely member of the group.
Xander.
"With you, though, funny thing how it's actually a tie…" Skip drawled lazily, even arrogantly.
"What?" Xander choked out. "What…tie?"
"Dating Cordelia Chase…and the Big Lie."
Xander's mouth was agape in horror. "Wait, wait, wait…you're saying that Cordy and I dating in high school…that was planned?"
Skip snorted. "Oh, please. You honestly think that in her right mind, a girl like that would've wanted anything to do with a guy like you? Now that's really sad!"
Xander clenched his fists hard, that last comment irking him more than he'd thought possible.
Granted, even though his relationship with Cordelia had ended on very bad terms, he'd always thought that they'd had a connection back then. He remembered all too well the passionate make-out sessions in the closets of Sunnydale High School, the times they had held each other in comfortable silence, the sweet words only they alone, when no one else was around, had shared. Harris recalled his words to her years back, when their relationship had first become public knowledge:
'Maybe something in you…sees something special inside me. And vice-versa.'
Xander truly did believe that. That maybe something, somewhere, deep in the heart of the self-proclaimed 'Nastiest Girl in Sunnydale', had seen something worthy about Alexander Lavelle Harris…something that had made him want to be a better person. A better man.
That couldn't have been fake, Xander thought tentatively. Could it?
Buffy furrowed her brow in thought. "Wait, hold on a sec - big lie? What big lie?"
Skip smirked maliciously at her. "Oh, that's right. This chump-nut never told you, did he? Think back, blondie. Junior year of high school. Fight to the death with your ex-boyfriend over there…three words that were vital to be heard. 'Kick his ass.' Ring any bells?"
Buffy frowned, before her eyes widened in horror, her mind replaying a moment with Xander from one of the worst days of her entire life...the day she'd sent Angel, the man she loved, into the depths of Hell.
Willow...she told me to tell you...
Tell me what?
...kick his ass.
Buffy's disbelieving eyes slid towards Xander, who met her gaze, almost steadily, nonchalantly, at least for a moment - before averting his gaze toward the floor.
"What Willow said for you to tell me…the day I fought Angelus…" Buffy said, realization dawning on her. "That's not…"
"What I said? No, it wasn't," Willow said, frowning at Xander.
Fred looked at Angel curiously. "What are they talking about?"
Angel remained silent, looking on at the unfolding drama intently.
"No, it wasn't, was it, Red?" Skip chuckled. "You told the overevolved orang-utan over there to tell blondie about your little re-souling spell being ready to go on Angelus, so that she could get her boyfriend back. But that's not what Messenger Boy told her, was it? No, no. 'Kick his ass'."
Skip turned to face Buffy. "And, well, you did. All the way to Hell…and back again."
Xander looked back up at Buffy, his gaze dead serious; one of the rare moments he did that. "It's true. I did what I had to do, at the time."
"What? Lie to me?" Buffy asked, both incredulous and furious at his gall. "Betray my trust?"
"No," Angel said, stunning both of them. "He got you focused. Buffy…Xander did the right thing."
Xander could only stare at the ensouled vampire, agape in awe. Never in a million years would he have expected Angel, of all people, to say those words.
Buffy stared at him, completely shocked. "What? Angel, how can you say that? If Xander hadn't lied to me, if he had told me about Willow's spell -"
"Then you would've risked getting killed and having six billion people ending up in Hell," Angel cut in, his eyes solemn, his tone somewhat gentle, but losing none of its practicality. "Think about it, Buffy. If you had gone into the mansion that day thinking that there was any hope of bringing me back, even one chance in a billion, would you have fought as hard as you did?"
"Yes," Buffy said automatically, although her heart was wavering on that short affirmation.
Angel knowingly shook his head. "No, you wouldn't have. You would have held back. Tried to buy time. Gone softer on your attack. All Angelus would've needed is just one split second, one moment where you let your guard down, one moment where you left a hole in your defense, one tiny instant where you weren't at your very best…and you would've been dead."
"And sent the whole world to Hell in the process," Anya added.
"You're wrong," Buffy ground out, flooded with fresh pain from an old wound in her heart that had never truly healed.
"No. He's right," Darla threw in. "Believe me, I taught Angelus to always go for the jugular. Both metaphorically and literally. I taught him how to use any opening he could find, exploit any weakness, find any hole no matter how small, and to twist it, and bend it, and expand and manipulate it until it became an advantage. If you'd have known about the spell…he would have killed you that day. In effect, Xander's lie saved your life."
"And condemned Angel to suffer for a hundred years in a hell dimension!" Buffy retorted, the image of Angel's stunned face, sword protruding from his heart, his hand stretched out to her pleadingly as he was sent to Hell burning brightly in her memory. "Not to mention made me skip town for three months to deal with the fact that I'd killed the only person in the world that I…" She broke off, her emotions starting to get the better of her.
Buffy's eyes met Angel's, both of them awash in memories of the past. "I killed you."
"I came back, didn't I?" Angel said, gently. "I always do."
The small smile Buffy offered Angel spoke more than words could say.
"What about me?" Andrew wondered aloud. "I have to have fit in there somewhere!" He puffed up like a fish, trying to seem important. "I mean, I used to be an…evil genius."
Skip looked at the guy like he had two heads. "You? Actually, you weren't planned on at all. You just sorta Forrest Gump'ed your way into this story. Who the hell are you, again?"
"Um…Andrew Wells," the geek offered timidly. "So…nothing? I wasn't…manipulated into anything? Not Jonathan's murder, or joining with Warren and the Trio…summoning the flying monkeys to attack my high school, anything? I'm…not a player in this story?"
"Could've told you that myself, Spanky," Spike snorted. "Now siddown and shut yer gob, you're not letting the nice minion talk."
Deflated, Andrew slumped back down in his seat.
Buffy shook her head firmly. She refused to believe that her life - all the hell she'd been through, literally - had been prearranged by some asshole demon sitting around somewhere and laughing at her plight. "No…I don't believe you. We control our own fate, not the other way around. Proof being, there's a prophecy or twenty that I've stopped, time and again."
Skip laughed contemptuously at her, making the petite Slayer even madder.
"Please, Goldilocks, you? You couldn't even comprehend how many times your life script's been edited just so all this could all take place. You think it was sheer coincidence that you ended up moving to a town which contained the Hellmouth as its main tourist attraction? Or that Tall, Dark and Clueless over there," he pointed at Angel, "just happened to cross your path? Or how those monks sent you, of all people, the Key - one of the most powerful mystical forces in the known universe - in the form of your closest living blood kin?"
"Dawn," Buffy whispered, suddenly horror-struck.
"You think it was just a clumsy CPR attempt and cheap magic tricks that let Unrequited-Crush Boy and Puking-Out-Snakes Girl bring you back twice, from beyond the grave?"
"Hey!" Willow and Xander exclaimed simultaneously, offended.
Ignoring them, Skip went on. "You really believe it was all just dumb luck how you've met all the people you've met, befriended all the beings you've befriended, or made enemies of all the fiends you've fought time and again? Hey! Wake up, Little Miss Blonde Concepts, if it wasn't for the boss's actions - you'd have been a forgotten pile of bleached bones for the last six years. Just like that inevitable prophecy said, way back when."
"But, see, here's the part where I'm kinda getting lost," Faith scrunched up her eyebrows, pondering. "If the Big Bad With No Name was the one doing all this shit right from the start, then what part does the First have in any of this?"
All eyes shot to Faith in surprise at her astuteness.
"What?" Faith shrugged, a little peeved. "Contrary to popular opinion, there is gray matter behind this pretty face."
"Actually, that's a good question," Buffy mused, her eyes looking back to Skip for the answer. "Well?"
"Dunno," the mercenary demon shrugged. "Only said that it wanted, no, needed that thing to be born. But why the First Evil wanted it…he, it, whatever…was really keeping that on the down-low. Real hush-hush. Only told 'Cordy' what the bun in the oven was really all about."
"So…you're saying, that the First Evil is the real brains behind this whole thing," Angel said.
"Could be," Skip shrugged. "Or, it could be in cahoots with the Beastmaster. That whole bit, it's a little hazy. But, either way, one of those two has been making you puppets dance to their tune for the last few…centuries."
Gunn wasn't buying it. "No way. We make our own choices."
"Yeah, sure. A cheese sandwich here, when to floss there…" Skip feigned his agreement. "But the big stuff," he leered at Angel, "like two vampires squeezing out a kid?"
If Angel's heart could beat, it would have frozen at that moment. His eyes flew to Darla's as they simultaneously uttered one name: "Connor."
A light dawned in Wesley's eyes as he suddenly got it. "An impossible birth, to make one possible."
Skip nodded, "That's what the kid was designed for."
"What, to sleep with Mother Love?" Lorne skeptically wondered.
"Yeah…to create a vessel," Angel realized.
Skip snorted. "Whoa, look out, the monkey's thinking again."
After giving the demon a glare, a thought occurred to Buffy. "Being inside a human…that makes it vulnerable, doesn't it?"
"P-perhaps that's why it had to stay hidden," Giles said contemplatively. "It needed to create something stronger to, ah, pour itself into."
"And what better way to stay hidden from its closest threats than to pose as one of their own?" Anya elaborated. "So it used Cordelia's body as camouflage, until the right time where it could manifest itself into a more powerful shell. Something less…break-y."
Gunn frowned in confusion. "Wait, so the big nasty inside of Cordy is going to give birth…to itself?"
Skip smirked. "Circle of life. It's a beautiful thing."
"Drop the melodramatic, Simba," Spike snapped. "Just get to the part where you tell us how we stop the chit."
"Well, that's the easy part, Billy Idol," Skip shrugged. "All you gotta do is find Cordelia…and chop her head off."
The silence that filled the room was almost deafening. Looks of horror and disbelief passed through nearly all the faces of each of the members of both Sunnydale and LA groups. Especially those who had known Cordelia well.
This was something that they didn't plan or dream of hearing...that in order to save the world, Cordelia Chase, their long-time friend...
...would have to die.
"No," Buffy said in a small voice. "No, that can't be the only way…" Not again. I can't lose another friend. I can't lose anyone else I care about again.
Angel shook his head, refusing to believe what he just heard. He'd already lost too many people he cared about. He couldn't lose Cordy, too. Not after all they'd gone through. Not after what she had given up to fight side-by-side with him, with his frie…no, family.
"Has to be another way," the Champion said quietly, his voice tight with fear and a small dash of hope.
"There's got to be!" Xander exclaimed, a cold shiver suddenly passing up his spine at the image.
Skip, taking no pity in their grief, delightedly elaborated. "Sure. Stab her in the heart, kidney…a couple of pokes in the lung, maybe she'll drown in her own blood -"
"A way that won't kill Cordy in the process!" Angel snapped, his patience with the callous demon at an end.
"Ha! Forget it, pal. It takes a whole lotta crammin' to get that much sweetness into a human," Skip sneered. "It's in every hair, every cell, every molecule of Cordelia's body, and it ain't letting go until it's got a brand new bag."
"What happens to Cordy, then?" Fred asked tentatively. She could scarcely believe that this was happening to brave, sweet Cordelia, her friend.
"Drained of her life force during labor. Those contractions are a real bitch," Skip said nonchalantly.
Xander paled at the demon's words. "It'll kill her?"
"Or, she'll end up a head of cabbage. Doesn't really matter either way, though, does it?"
In shock, Xander dropped back down to sit on the steps, horrified. No, no, no…
Gunn ran his hand across his face in disbelief. Fred looked close to tears. Willow's jaw dropped in utter dismay. Lorne turned away, visibly upset. Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes in sadness. Faith sat stunned, while even Spike's eyes widened, knocked for six by the news.
Buffy could feel the familiar pain of loss creeping up inside of her. Cordelia had never been a close friend, but she was a friend nonetheless. Someone close to her world. Like her mother was. And Tara. And Jenny. And Kendra. The thought of losing another friend to this endless madness made her throat constrict painfully.
But if it hurt like this for her, she could only imagine what it must have felt like for Angel. Cordelia was after all, his seer, perhaps his best friend. As she saw Angel's dark, yet soulful eyes cloud with grief as a forlorn look fell over his handsome visage - a look that spoke of deep, soul-shaking pain - Buffy knew all she needed to know about what was going on in the mind of one of the dearest people in her life.
In shock, Wesley dropped the Codex he held on the floor at the words. He'd known Cordelia since Sunnydale. He'd courted her, then befriended her, and argued time and time again with her. She was the little sister he'd never been blessed enough to have.
And now, it looked like they might lose her. Not like in Pylea, where she had been lost, then found. This time, it was for keeps. This time, she would remain lost. Forever. The thought made the hardened Englishman suddenly sick with horror at the thought.
The Codex remained lying there, landing open on a few pages that almost seemed to turn at will. In the wake of the news of Connor and Dawn's departure, Wesley, Darla and Giles had barely gotten started on the research needed to find an answer for Cordelia's condition.
Darla, a little wigged by the occurrence that no one else seemed to notice, curiously skimmed a few of the pages. For she, too, having been born over four hundred years ago, was also familiar with Latin. She kept reading on at the two open pages…and her eyes widened at what she read.
Skip gave a pointed look at both Angel and Buffy. "And as if that isn't enough, there's still the little problem of whether or not you can stop her before your idiot kids get there."
"Oh, God," Buffy muttered. "Dawn."
"And Connor," Angel added with a groan.
"Hate to break it to you," Skip chuckled sadistically. "Oh, who am I kidding? I love breaking it to you! But your little super-brats, if they busted out of here to make a run at Cordelia, and odds are, given they've inherited your lack of brains, they did…they're in big trouble, with a capital O-U-B-L-E."
Buffy and Angel exchanged mutual looks of concern. Now they were really worried. Given the Beastmaster's penchant for killing, sending an under-trained teenage girl, her under-prepared Potential Slayer friends, and an unpredictable, super-powered, possibly mentally unstable, hormonally rampaging boy against someone as clever and as deadly as 'Cordelia' was a guaranteed way for those kids to end up tragic headlines in the Los Angeles Times in the morning.
Faith looked at the two of them, gauging their reactions. "So…what do you guys want to do?"
Skip answered gleefully for them. "The only thing they can do. Kill her old friend from high school…" his eyes slid to Buffy, before finding Angel, "…and one of the few women he gives a damn about, to save those kids…and the world." He smirked cruelly at the two crestfallen warriors. "Times like this, really gotta suck being you."
"Maybe…but then again, maybe not," Darla said.
All eyes turned to her at once.
Wesley looked at her, suspicious. "Darla? What do you mean by that?"
"I mean…" the blonde said as she turned the book to him. "…that it looks like there might be more than one way to skin a parasite. And that this demon has very carefully avoided mentioning something we already knew - how there are two entities within Cordelia."
Skip glowered and Wesley frowned as he took the book, skimming a few pages of it. The others watched the younger ex-Watcher carefully, watched as his keen eyes narrowed while he read quickly through the pages of the mystical book…and then widen as he saw something.
"Wes?" Angel asked cautiously. "You find anything?"
"Pryce?" Giles asked, curiously. "What have you found?"
Wesley took a few moments before he looked back up at the group.
"Wesley?" Buffy asked, her nerves working up on ends. "Come on, the suspense is killing me…and Cordelia, and maybe about six billion other people, too."
Wesley looked at Darla, who only gave a faint nod, before he looked back up at them.
"There might be a way."
TBC…
Next chapter: As a plan comes together to save Cordelia's soul, Dawn and Connor make their way towards the Beastmaster's hideout. But will they live long enough to buy our heroes time to act? Or will their inexperience and the evil of 'Cordelia' prove their undoing?
How close are Oz, Lindsey and Whistler?
And what are the plans of the First Evil?
Stay tuned and find out!
Happy Reading and Please Review!
Bye now,
Jean-theGuardian
