A/N: Hey, guys! I know, I know, it's been a long time, but I've had a ton to do, with two jobs,

personal crisis's, and viruses nearly crashing my computer. But with any luck,

and my muses singing to me anew, I should have a new chapter up within two weeks.

I want to thank everyone whose stuck with this story and reviewed so far. You guys are great.

Mark my words, you will see an ending. And as always, if you guys feel

I'm missing something, please let me know. Your feedback makes this story improve.

Sorry if I've been killing you guys with the time, but remember, haste crap not worth five minutes of your reading time.

Now, on to the story!


Bring Me To Life – Part 11

Offering


"There's no way!"

Molly was holding steadfast in her refusal as she eyed the sea of creatures swarming about in the shallow gap between them and the other sewer link that separated them from their final destination.

Rats.

Swarms of rats.

Giant, nasty-looking rats.

Come on, Molly", Dawn cajoled her. "We're almost there."

The British girl looked between her friends and the gaping hole that separated them from a ladder leading up a sewer line. One that Connor was steadfast that would lead them right to 'Cordelia'. Which, would have been great…except for the fact that the gap between Molly and the others, who had already crossed over, was all but filled with rats.

And of all the animals on this green earth, rats were the one creature that Molly detested and feared the most. Ever since she was five, when a rat crawled into her playhouse and scurried about her makeshift tea table, frightening her little friends screaming away. She could barely stand to be within five feet of one rat, much less dozens upon dozens of them.

"Uh…I…is there s-some sort of…alternate route?", Molly asked with much trepidation. "O-or some…other dark, creepy sewer that we've overlooked, perhaps?"

"No", Connor said simply.

"You're sure?", Molly asked again, wincing as she saw the rats crawling and wriggling about.

"Moll!", Dawn snapped. "We're running out of time! Cordelia is running out of time! Hurry up and get your tiny little English ass over here, now!"

The British girl scowled, annoyed. "Didn't have to get that personal, you know. I'm not tiny. I'm petite."

"Molly?", Vi whined, exasperated. "Just hurry up and come on!"

Taking a deep breath, Molly steeled herself, took two large steps backwards, and, with a silent prayer, got a running start towards the ledge. She squealed as she hung mid-air after her leap, which was not nearly enough to make the clearing on the other side, as he felt herself falling towards the swarm of rats below…

…Fortunately, Connor's supernatural speed allowed him to grab her just in the nick of time, pulling her to safety, and before she realized what was happening, her feet were on solid ground, standing just between Vi and Dawn.

"Great Moses!", was all a stunned Molly could say.

"Wow. Super speed. Cool", Vi nodded.

"Come on", Connor said, as he began to climb a ladder leading to the nearest manhole cover above them, without as much as a look back.

Molly stared up after him. "Intense, isn't he?"

"Gee, ya think?", Dawn muttered sarcastically.

The others followed his lead. Soon, they were up at the surface. A back alley route sandwiched between two factory-like buildings. The smell of garbage and sewage drain was quite powerful, and it took all of Dawn's will to keep her from gagging at the stench. Whoever said being a hero was easy work clearly hadn't read the entire brochure.

"Where are we?", she asked allowed.

Connor whipped around, frowning. "Keep quiet!", he whispered, furiously. "This is the place."

"Which is where again, exactly?", Dawn whispered back, placing her hands on her hips, annoyed.

"Downtown. Meatpacking district", he answered, before moving cautiously. "Come on. I know a way in from here, but we need to keep quiet or-"

Suddenly, he grew quiet. He ticked his gaze to the left of him, where a large metal door stood.

Wigged by his behavior, Dawn asked, "Connor? What is it?"

He turned his eyes back to them. "Someone's coming. We gotta move. Go!"

Not three seconds after he warned them, the large metal door swung open. For a moment, nothing was there.

And then, from the darkness of the doorway, out stepped a scowling 'Cordelia', one hand tucked on her pregnant stomach, the other hand hidden behind her back, clutching a meat cleaver.

In her paranoid state, she had thought she heard something outside. Could have been Angel, or the Slayer, or perhaps another virgin girl. In the last hour she had tried several times to lure some unsuspecting girl into the alleyway, but had failed at the last moment. She had tried to play the damsel-in-distress card, the pregnant-woman-in-distress card, or the weeping-woman-in-distress card. And she had come close to succeeding.

So close.

But to no avail. The girls she sought out were either accompanied by someone, ran off to get help, or were called back by someone at the last instant, leaving 'Cordelia' to forcibly retreat.

She suddenly winced, rubbing her free hand over her stomach. She felt the creature inside of her growing with every instant. She knew if she didn't find a virgin sacrifice quickly, then the First would have her head on a stick. But she couldn't risk such open exposure now, especially with such powerful enemies hunting her at every corner. She slowly closed the steel door, disappearing back inside the darkness…

…unaware that just above her, hanging on a fire escape ladder, stood Connor and three determined teenage girls, plotting her downfall.

"That was close", Vi noted, in awe of how fast Connor was able to grab them all and wisk them up the fire escape just as 'Cordelia' was coming out.

Connor frowned. "Too close. She's getting desperate. I could smell it."

"Then now's the time to trip her up", Dawn said. "While she's all screws loose."

"'Cordelia' doesn't make many mistakes", Connor warned. "So we have to make sure that we make none."

He looked up for a moment, up the ascending fire escape. "Come on, I know an entrance up on the roof. It should get us up somewhere we won't be detected, for now."

He was moving just as quickly as he was talking, forcing the girls to try to catch up. Dawn noticed that Connor had become rapidly more stone-faced as they drew nearer to 'Cordelia' with each passing minute. Part of her rationed that it was some sort of inherited Angel-trait, the white knight routine he'd play whenever he and Buffy drew closer to trouble, the need to protect her, so she read in Buffy's diary the nights she stayed out late slaying. But from the narrowing of his eyes, the tension in his otherwise stealthy stalk, she knew that there was more than meets the eye about this. Something told her that Connor was holding something back from her that involved 'Cordelia'. Something big, but she didn't know what.

Not yet.

Connor led them to a small shaft up on the rooftop. With a burst of inhuman strength, Connor pulled the bolted-shut lid right off the ground. "We should make it through this way. I'll go first, scout ahead."

Dawn was hesitant. "I don't know if that's such a good-"

But he already disappeared down the shaft.

"…Idea. But hey, what do I know? I'm no superkid, why should my opinion matter?", Dawn huffed.

"Maybe it's a…guy thing", Vi suggested.

"Or a super-guy thing", Molly ventured.

"Whatever", Dawn muttered. "Come on, Prancer and Vixen, Santa's going to need our help."

Dawn then slid down the shaft, followed by Molly. Vi took in a deep breath, as she stared uncertainly down the dark shaft.

"Ho-ho-ho", she sighed, and then she slipped down the shaft.

She resisted the urge to scream as she found herself propelling downwards rapidly through the metal-encased tunnel, like riding 'The Hulk' at Universal Studios, only minus the roller-coaster, and the safety rail, and the dozens of others people on the ride…and the brakes for that matter.

She let out a startled cry as she shot out of the shaft's end, only to find Connor waiting there, catching her swiftly to break her fall. Vi stared up at the handsome teenager, moony-eyed , as she was held in his arms.

"I gotcha", he said as he gently lowered her to the ground.

"Bet you say that to all the girls", Vi smiled teasingly.

Ever so eloquently, Connor replied, "Um, I…"

Dawn wasn't sure why, but she didn't like the way that was going. At all. "Hey, come on and focus, will you? Faux Cordy's lurking around here, and we have to find her. Stop hanging all over each other already, it's gross."

"I wasn't hanging off anything", Connor defensively replied.

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that", Dawn snarked.

"What, telling myself the truth?", Connor shot back.

"Shh! You guys, look!", Molly diverted their attention over to a railing.

Reluctantly, the two stopped sniping at each other long enough for them to see what Molly was talking about. There below, stalking about like a caged animal, was a dark-clad Cordelia, weapon-wielding and menacing.

"Is that her?", Vi asked.

Connor nodded, sullenly. "Yeah. It's her, alright."

Dawn gazed intently at the woman who just barely resembled the Cordelia that she remembered.

Gone was the long, flowing raven hair, replaced by a short, wavy bob, which was quite becoming of the former May Queen. The same, however, could not be said for her choice in wardrobe, a rather gross-looking, in Dawn's eyes, black dress that resembled a prostitute's idea of a moo-moo. Her once-sleek figure was now quite heavily pregnant, although one wouldn't be able to guess from the way 'Cordelia' slinked about, almost as if she was stalking wounded prey. She could see a meat-cleaver held tightly in her grip, her body language almost screaming for an excuse to use it.

But what caught Dawn most were her eyes.

Dawn remembered that Cordy used to have such a fiery, lively spark in her hazel eyes, a look that she often remembered seeing the debutant-ish cyclical member of the Scooby Gang use to burn holes right through Xander whenever they were fighting. It was a little known fact that those same hazel orbs could also make one feel comforted, relaxed. Dawn knew this, however. In the summer that Buffy had ran off after the Angelus debacle, Dawn had been very alone. Her now-late mother grieved over Buffy's disappearance and the Scoobies had taken to defend the town while dealing with their leader's absence in their own ways. Mostly, except for the attentions of her mother, who often required more attention herself at the time, Dawn was all but forgotten, left for herself to deal with the desertion of her sister.

Needless to say, Dawn was flabbergasted when the first one to actually make time and tend to her, make time for just her, was neither her wonderful Xander, nor sweet Willow, nor the fatherly Giles or empathic Oz, but rather the least likely, the vain, often self-absorbed Cordelia Chase. In the weeks that followed, when Cordy wasn't out fighting alongside her fellow Scoobies, she was right alongside Dawn. She would actually take time out of her busy schedule of shopping, Bronze-ing, and even cancelled a few dates with Xander, much to both their chagrins, to spend time with the youngest Summers. She would braid the younger girl's hair, shop with her, watch rental movies, and talk about boys (mostly how to get them to do anything they wanted), or sometimes, just talk about what Dawn was feeling, the sorrow she felt at having lost her sister. Cordy would even see Dawn off to bed, sometimes even staying late until she was certain Dawn was steadfast asleep. Her shiftless absentee sister, as it would be. And even though deep down, Dawn knew that none of this had…actually…happened, she could no shake the memories of Cordelia's surprising kindness. Such was the impression Cordelia left on Dawn that, for a little while, shortly after Buffy's return, she began singing praises of Cordelia constantly, much to Buffy's dismay. When Buffy had died the second time two years ago, Cordelia was the first of the Fang Gang to embrace her upon their arrival at Buffy's wake, offering condolences and rocking the young girl as they cried together. Dawn never forgot her kindness. Which was why the look in those eyes sent a chill up Dawn's spine. No longer where those eyes filled with vibrancy and spirit, but with malice, suspicion, cruelty. Not warmth, but icy calculation. Not empathy and comfort, but something black, foul to the core. All it took was one look and Dawn knew that this thing, whatever it was masquerading in her friend's skin…was not the Cordelia she knew.

"Yeah", Dawn said quietly, somberly. "Sure it is."

"So, what now?", Vi whispered.

Molly drew out her crossbow, locking it and cocking the arrow. "I could get in a direct shot from here. No sweat."

"No!", Connor hissed, pushing the weapon down. "You don't shoot until your time comes. We wait for everything to be in position, then we act."

"I was just musing", Molly said, frowning. "I wasn't gonna really do it."

"Keep your shorts on, William Tell", Dawn said calmly as she eyed Cordelia's movements carefully. "You might get your shot yet."

Connor took a sweeping glance at the bottom surroundings, carefully perusing every inch of the factory below.

"There", he uttered simply.

" 'There' where?", Dawn asked.

"Near the doors. By the right side", Connor motioned towards a large stock-pile of wooden crates, about 30 feet away from 'Cordelia'. "That looks like a good setup spot."

"Isn't that a little…close?", Vi asked apprehensively.

"That's the idea, Vi", Dawn replied. "I don't see any way they can get down there without being seen."

"There's a scaffold just up ahead", Connor said. "You two have to be as quiet as possible getting there. Stay low to the ground, and don't make a sound. Once you get there, climb down the ladder. There should be enough crates to avoid being seen. Once there, set up at whatever spot you feel is good enough to get in good aim or react quickly."

"Got it", Molly said, picking up her bag of weapons. "With this handy bag o' tricks, shouldn't be too hard to find a good shot."

"And guys, remember, if anything goes wrong, don't try to be heroes. The exit is just to the left. Run for help, and get to Angel's. They'll know what to do", Dawn instructed them.

"B-but…nothing's going to go wrong", Vi said, trying to cover her anxiety with cheery optimism. "We know exactly what we're doing and everything's going to come up roses. Sunshine and roses, even."

Molly looked at her, a wry smile on her pretty face. "Feel better?"

"No, but I think someone had to be 'Glass-Half-Full' Girl", Vi shrugged.

"Well, it beats 'We're-so-horribly-doomed', any day", Dawn smiled sardonically.

"Hurry, we don't have much time", Connor said sternly. "And don't act until you get the signal."

"What's the signal?", Molly asked.

"When something goes wrong", Connor vaguely replied.

"How do we know when something goes wrong?", Vi now inquired.

"I'm thinking if you see either of us screaming, dying, bleeding or getting something cut off, there's reason for concern", Dawn answered. "Now get going. And good luck, guys."

"You, too", Vi replied sincerely. She glanced at Molly. "Ready?"

"No, but I'm going, anyway", Molly said, turning back to Dawn and Connor.

"Stay safe."

"You, too", Dawn nodded.

And with that, the two young Potentials crept away, staying low to the ground of the scaffold, as they headed towards the crates below.

Both Dawn and Connor watched as they slowly made their way down the stairs, sighing with relief as they made it to the crates, apparently undetected.

That left Dawn and Connor.

Alone.

Dawn was suddenly self-conscious of the boy's presence. Not like she was some wallflower, but…well, just look at him! He was all tall, and cute, and handsome and all demon-fighty braveness. Well, okay, so cute and handsome were pretty much the same thing, but that was besides the point. A girl couldn't help but get all dreamy-eyed looking at him.

Connor's stoic gaze kept focused on Molly and Vi setting up, observing Cordelia's movements as well. He hadn't spoken since they left.

Dawn suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Which had roughly about the same probability as Giles computer -cataloging all his musty books like a normal, twenty-first century librarian. She couldn't help but to feel a little flustered, suddenly. Why was it so hard now to start talking to Connor? Okay, so she knew that there were more pressing issues to attend to, like, say, making sure that Molly and Vi didn't get frapped by evil doppelganger Cordy. But would it kill him to say two words? A syllable? Anything?

Dawn, fumbling for something to break the unnerving silence between them, blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

"So", she chuckled. "Exciting, isn't it?"

Connor, incredulous, turned to look at her with a peculiar glance.

Her face flushed red, she looked at the ground. "Or not."


"Spell?", Angel asked, puzzled. "What kind of spell?"

Everyone was hanging on every word from Wesley.

"It appears…that there is a very powerful counter-spell that can be used", Wesley explained, as he began flipping though the next few pages of the Codex. "I've never seen anything quite like this before."

Now Willow's interest was piqued. "Really? Is it that powerful?"

"Well, yes", Wesley replied as he continued skimming the words written in the dead language of Latin. "And also very…unconventional."

"Let me see", Giles insisted as he made his way over to Wesley, leaning in to read what he was reading.

"Giles? What's it say?", Buffy asked, getting slightly annoyed that she wasn't on the 'in' at whatever the two former Watchers were reading.

"Good God." Giles's eyebrows flew up as he realized what Wesley was so in awe over.

"That's a good 'Good God', right?", Fred asked, hopefully.

"Heh, good 'Good God'", Willow chuckled dorkishly, until she realized that everyone was staring at her. "Um…sorry, silly Willow moment. Go on."

"Apparently…there is a-a spell here, designed for a being to actually be able to enter into a possessed body via the means of a telepathic link." He cleared his throat before continuing, "There are a few specifics within the next few pages, but a-apparently, it seems that by using three beings, one as the infiltrator, one as a conduit and the other as a recipient, one can actually reach into a possessed being's inner most mental facilities, and, within a certain, undetermined time frame, it is possible to retrieve the recipient's true self, their soul, from within the invading body's workings."

"Is there an English translation to that?", Xander shook his head, confused. "Not English-English. Regular English."

Giles looked up at Xander, his face deadpanned, before simplifying. "It means that we can use two other people to get Cordelia's soul back."

"Oh…well, that's great!", Xander said, optimistically. Then he realized that this was usually the part where the big Catch-22 was revealed. "It is great, right?"

"Huh? Oh, well, yes, of course", Giles nodded. "But there is a drawback."

Xander sighed. "And it begins."

"The spell itself is very radical", Giles explained. "The powers and forces needed to invoke the spell are…ancient. Highly potent. And, potentially, very dangerous."

"How much mojo are we talkin' here?", Kennedy asked, concerned. She knew that if it involved magick, odds were 2-to-1 that it would involve Willow.

"It…appears to be a very good deal of it", Wesley said, his eyes still trained on the book. "But I'm sure it's nothing that Willow couldn't handle."

Willow looked a little apprehensive as Wesley's calm gaze eyed her.

"Me?", she all but squeaked.

Although her confidence in the use of magicks was starting to slowly and steadily return to her, the little redhead was still quite unsure of her limits. Or rather, how far she could exceed the line between her true self and her evil, black-haired, blue-veiny self. The last thing this apocalypse needed was for one of the most powerful witches alive to plunge off the deep end again.

Buffy spoke up for her friend. "Whoa, whoa, back up a couple, Wes. If this spell is as strong as you say it is, then Willow might not be able to handle it."

Wesley eyed Buffy curiously. "Willow's skills with sorcery are renowned throughout the world. If anyone should be able to handle this, among us, it should be Willow."

"I hear that", Gunn said, beaming a smile at Willow. "From what I seen, Big Red can put a whuppin' on anybody with those skills. I heard she took on Evil Cordy and went toe-to-toe with her, no sweat."

"Yeah", Fred chirped up as she walked over and patted Willow on the back. "Willow can do anything."

Willow offered a faint smile at her friend's naive enthusiasm.

Giles cautiously stepped in. "Well, you see…Willow is, um, recovering from a very powerful…addiction to, um, m-magicks."

"Addiction? As in, fried egg, 'This-is-you-brain-on-drugs' addiction?", Lorne asked.

"Will went over the edge last summer", Xander explained. "Got hopped up on black magicks, people…died, and, long story short, she nearly made the world go 'ka-boom!', only without the cutesy cartoon cloud and add in gruesome, horrible death."

"Oh", Fred blinked in astonishment. She never would have thought of Willow as the 'Bringer-of-Death' type, she was so sweet and good. But the tiny Texan knew that the redhead was also incredibly powerful.

"So, uh…what stopped you from making the world go 'kablooey!' ?", Fred asked, curious.

"Yellow crayons", she said with a knowing smile, directed towards Xander, who grinned back at his lifelong best friend at the memory. Off Fred's confused glance, Willow replied, "Long story."

Angel turned to Buffy, his dark eyes asking silently is what he heard was true. With a sad, but simple nod, Buffy confirmed what he was hearing.

"Did this involve the…'flaying' incident?", Wesley asked Willow, referring to their conversation the last time she was in L.A., restoring Angel's soul.

Willow nodded meekly, the word 'flaying' bringing back the horrifying memory of Tara's killer, Warren, and his last moments before his skin ripped completely off his body, his agony unbearable, his death instant.

At Willow's hands.

Though a few traces of sympathy passed through his eyes, the ex-Watcher quickly hardened them, putting the present issue to the forefront. "Unfortunately, we don't have time to wait about for another alternative. Willow has the most power out of any of us here. She might be our only hope to get Cordelia back."

Buffy shook her head. "No, I'm not risking Will over a spell you're not sure of how powerful it is, or even sure will work-"

"It will work", Wesley said, his voice taking a more steadfast stance. "We don't have a choice. It has to be Willow."

"Don't you dare tell me about what choices I can or can't make", Buffy said, her voice low like thunder, a dangerous threat lingering in her voice. "I want Cordy back as much as the rest of you, but I'm not jeopardizing one of my family on some spell you found brewing in some…old magick cookbook!"

"This 'cookbook', as you so disdainfully put it", Wesley countered, ", is one of the most potent sources of magick known to mankind. This is war, Buffy. And in a war, chances have to be taken to win the day. The hard decisions, sacrifices, have to be made, whether we like them or not."

"Not with my people!", Buffy snapped.

"With all people", Wesley retorted, his voice cold, hardened. "It doesn't make a difference whom they belong to."

"It does to me! If you're so amped about this spell, why don't you do it?", Buffy challenged, her green eyes glowing with a stroking fire. "Come on, I've heard about your skills with magick. I'm sure you remember that much from the Council."

"I would do it if I could", Wesley explained, patiently attempting to keep the snappishness out of his tone. "But if this spell does what it's supposed to, then I won't be of much use. It needs a powerful conduit. And Willow is far more powerful, even in a weakened state, than I could be if I had half of what she knows at my disposal."

"So you'll just…throw her to the wolves?", Buffy exclaimed, sputtering to try to find the right words. "What if that spell doesn't work? What if the side effects hurt her, or worse, what if they end up killing her? What if they change her back into the Big Nasty she was when she nearly deep-fried the world? Have you thought about that?"

"It won't come to that", Wesley firmly replied.

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you", Wesley returned, still determined. "And unless you can come up with a better plan-"

"Oh, right", Buffy laughed bitterly. "You're just the 'Big Plan Guy', aren't you, Wesley?"

Wesley's eyes narrowed at her tone, his body stiffening slightly, a defensive reflex. "Meaning?"

"Meaning that you just put anyone and everyone you can up for the slaughter", Buffy snapped. "You just…put everyone else up for grabs, you don't give a damn who gets hurt!"

"That's not true!", Fred protested indignantly.

As if she didn't hear her, Buffy went on. "You haven't changed at all, have you? It's just like back in Sunnydale, when the Mayor kidnapped Willow, and wanted to trade her for that box. You were just willing to let Willow take the hit so you could hold on to that stupid thing."

"Thousands of lives were in the balance, just like they are now", Wesley retorted. "Granted, I was different back then, but I did what I thought I had to, because you couldn't. It's what I do."

"Just like you thought you had to remove Angel's soul and bring back Mr. Happy-Go-Killing-Spree?", Buffy shot back, rage starting to slowly bubble over at his attitude. "Or better yet, just like you had to steal Angel's son, and lose him to the psycho who raised him in hell and made him hate his own father? Yeah, nice job there, Wes, because those ideas worked out great, didn't they?"

She regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

Even more so as she saw the hardened façade of coolness that Wesley bore crack, his face etched in shock, his eyes reflecting a long-brewing remorse as he briefly cast his icy blue eyes to the floor.

Wesley had long tortured himself over the latter decision. Granted, he realized now how hasty the former choice was to remove Angel's soul in the midst of the 'permanent midnight' catastrophe. He had never forgotten how Angelus systematically played upon his vulnerabilities, his issues with his now-late father, his grievous shortcomings, his attraction to Fred, his struggles for acceptance and credibility. Or how the monster bearing his friend's face hadn't hesitated for an instant to fire a loaded shotgun at Faith, or nearly strangle Fred from within his own cage. And the image of Angelus, blood-caked mouth and all, feeding from Lilah's limp, dead body was an image forever seared in his mind. But that he had ultimately dismissed, with what Angelus having discovered about the Beastmaster proving pivotal in their discovery of 'Cordelia's involvement.

The latter, however, was something he could find no excuse for. He remembered the brave front he used when Angelus had mocked him over the loss of Connor to Quor'toth: 'He survived.' But that was all it was, a front. The pain that he had caused an innocent child, to Angel and those around him, those Wesley once considered…those he was closest to, was shoved back into far corners of his heart, but not so far as to bury them completely. For he chose to live with his guilt, his pain. To atone for what had done. For despite his own anger, his hardness and bitterness that had all but consumed him these last few months, there was a part of himself that believed that he had deserved everything that had happened to him, that he deserved to pay. Deserved to suffer. Ironically, he had begun to understand but a piece of what Angel himself had to endure all the days of his immortal life. Wesley would only have to endure his suffering until the end of his mortal one.

At the look on his face, Darla instinctively moved to him, offering a gentle hand on his arm. But Wesley, lost in his own thoughts, barely even noticed.

In the midst of the uncomfortable silence that filled the hotel, Xander looked perplexed at all of this. "Um, Stupid Question Guy with permission to speak…what the hell is she talking about?"

Lorne gave him a cautious glance. "Long, tragic story, Slim. One that best not be rehashed here, or now. Or ever, actually."

Angel felt a part of him want to say something, speak up on behalf of his old friend. But another part, a bigger part, held back, and, God help him…was actually satisfied with Wesley's guilt. He had tried long and hard to move past that, mend a gradual bridge of trust back between them, but every time he saw Wesley, he would think of Connor, both as a small, tiny infant and as a confused, troubled teenager. Whatever was left in the middle was lost, something that he would never see. Because of what Holtz did. And part of that, however noble the intentions were, was Wesley's fault. Because of his betrayal, Angel lost his son's childhood. Connor lost his chance at a normal childhood. And a part of Angel could simply not trust Wesley again, nor forgive him for that. Perhaps the latter never would come.

Buffy stood in shock, amazed at the words that had flown from her mouth. She hadn't meant for it to come out that way. She just wanted to make her point, look after her friend. She hadn't intended to lash out at Wesley for something that she knew wasn't totally his fault. Angel had told her about the false prophecy that Sahjahn had planted. Wesley was only trying to protect Angel's son, not hurt him. But he did. And she knew by the look on his face now that it was something he was still coping with.

Still paying for.

"Oh, God", she breathed, regretfully. "Wes, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Yes, you did", Wesley cut her off, the hardness returning to his eyes, the traces of raw human emotion vanishing almost at will, slipping behind a mask of emotionless detachment, hardness, logic. His second skin. "But, regardless of my previous...track record...I stand firmly by my belief. Willow is the key. Without her, we are lost." He paused. "Cordelia is lost."

At that, Willow's bright green eyes glinted with resolve. "Then give me everything I need. I'll do it."

Buffy turned to her best friend, concerned. "Will, I don't know-"

"Willow. No", Kennedy said harshly. She didn't like the idea at all.

"I'll be fine, don't worry", the witch assured her. "I'm about 95 percent sure I can handle it."

Anya wasn't so convinced. "And, what, 5 percent sure that you'll go evil brunette and start flaying people?"

"I won't", Willow replied, firmly.

"We don't know that! You don't know that!", Kennedy exclaimed.

"She's right, Will", Xander said, standing up. "You're still recovering, we don't want you to regress back. The last thing we need is 'Dark Phoenix'-you to make a return visit. There might not be any coming back from that."

"Well, actually, Dark Phoenix's powers are more sun-based", Andrew started to go into geek mode. "In X-Men edition 258, Professor Xavier discovered that she was a more photosynthetic-derivating being, whereas Willow-"

"I swear to God if you don't zip it, Andrew, I'm going to shove edition 258 so far up your 90-pound ass, you'll be sneezing word bubbles for the next week and a half!", Buffy snapped, her patience running thin with the goofy nerd.

Andrew gulped, sitting back down. "Got it. Shutting up now."

"Look, you guys, I'll be fine", Willow insisted. "I-I know you're all worried, but I'm getting stronger now, really. I mean, hey, who teleported everybody 200 miles out here?"

"Well, yeah, sure, but it took a lot outta you, Red", Faith pointed out, not exactly crazy about the idea, herself. "You're not in shape yet. You sure you're up for this?"

"I guess I'll have to be", was her reply.

"But this spell could be dangerous", Buffy argued. "It's too risky."

"She's right, Willow", Angel said, his eyes focused on Willow. "You're not just Buffy's friend, you're my friend, too. I'm not risking anyone else I care about on something we're not sure will work…even if it is to help Cordy."

"That's exactly why I have to do it", Willow insisted. "Because it's Cordy."

"As strange as it is to admit it, I'll have to go with Dead Boy on this one", Xander sighed. "Will, it's bad enough we may have lost Cordy, we can't lose you, too-"

"Okay, just shut up and listen to me, okay?", Willow said, her usually soft voice suddenly tight with determination. "Xander, think about it. This is Cordelia. The girl we grew up with in kindergarten, the same girl we founded the 'We-Hate-Cordelia-Chase-Fan-Club' over when we were 7, the same girl who risked her neck, even gave up her social life to help us out in junior and senior year of high school, even when she didn't have to, even when she knew it would probably get her killed." Her eyes grew wistful. "The same girl we both hurt that night in the factory…"

Xander, despite himself, flinched at the memory of that fateful night, when Oz and a horror-struck Cordy found Willow and Xander in each other's arms in Spike's lair. He could still remember the look of horror, and pain on her face, of betrayal. And the terror he felt when she fell, impaled herself on that spike, how the light in her tear-stung eyes faded, as she passed out that night, seemingly dying…He shook the thoughts from his head, focusing back on Willow.

"We owe her this, Xander", Willow said, adamantly. "I owe her this. And I know that we didn't all end on good terms, but Xan…" she faltered slightly. "It's…Cordy."

Considering her words, Xander gave it one moment…and nodded. "If you think you can handle it…do it."

"Thanks", she smiled at him with soulful green eyes.

Angel watched in amazement. He had known that the Scoobies were traditionally protective of their own but he hadn't anticipated the fierceness and loyalty that they were showing for Cordelia. That Willow, recovering addict from dark magicks, would throw her own personal well being aside to help her old friend, their friend, that Xander, the poster boy for steadfast stubbornness, would actually consent to this plan, knowing the risks to his best friend, to everyone else around her, casting aside his old grudges, his reservations…it brought a warm reassurance to Angel. He wasn't alone. He had help. He had friends. Friends who cared about Cordy as much as his family did. And friends who would do anything to save her.

"Um, hate to break up the warm-and-fuzzies, but what if she's wrong?", Spike chimed in. "What if Red looses it and starts goin' Susan Atkins on the lot of us?"

Willow turned her gaze directly towards Wesley. "Then I'm trusting you to do what…needs to be done."

Wesley stared at the little redhead, the veiled implication not lost on him, before nodding slowly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that", the Watcher replied.

"Does it really matter?", Skip snorted. "You people have no idea what's taken over Cordelia. You think some 'Speak-and-Spell' magick trick is gonna make a difference?"

Faith regarded the demon curiously. "Funny, Mr. Roboto, but if I didn't know better, I'd say you're startin' to sweat some serious nuts over there."

Skip glared at Faith, to which Faith responded with her trademark cocky grin.

"Oh, please", Skip scoffed. "Are you people actually serious? There's no way! Nothing has the kind of power you need to save your friend. Heck, the only thing that would contain even a remote possibility of juicing that kind of power would be in the Bysilline Codex! And that book is long go-"

The demon's words hung unfinished as Wesley and Giles, coolly regarding the demon, flipped the book's cover over so the demon could see the blood red book with the golden stag emblazoned on the cover.

And the demon's sentence turned into a dismayed, "Aw, crud."

"Great", said a suddenly chipper Spike. "So, we got our spell. That means all we got to do is get Red over there to do the 'bippety' and the 'boppety', then 'boo' the Nameless Wonder out of Cordelia, mission accomplished, world saved, and we're out of this miserable town, right?"

Giles eyed the vampire warily before continuing. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Spike."

Spike smirked wryly. "No, of course not. Silly me for thinkin' it. Wherever there's the pouf, there's bound to be a hidden clause or two. Of course, given your little Gypsy soul problem, you'd know about complications, wouldn't you, Broody Pants?"

Angel glared contemptuously at the younger vampire, fighting every instinct to reach for the stake tucked into his pocket. "I imagine you would, too, given that you cause most of them wherever you go, Spike."

"Now I know you two aren't starting your little 'My-Fangs-Are Bigger-Than-Your-Fangs' pissing contest when Cordy's life, not to mention my sister's and Connor's, are in the balance!", Buffy warned.

Both vampires warily glanced at the blonde Slayer, hands on hips, her beautiful face hardened into a cold glare. The reluctantly backed off, but shot each other dagger-like glares as they did.

"So, what's the holdup?", Xander anxiously said. "We have Willow do the spell, Cordy comes, Big Bad goes, hurrah for us, right?"

"I'm afraid it's a little more…difficult than that", Darla said, swiftly avoiding using the word 'complication' for fear of igniting Round Two of the 'Angel v.s. Spike' series. "In order to perform the spell, we're going to actually need Cordelia, or whatever that thing is walking around like her, to be present."

"So, we find your friend, drag her here and do the spell", Wood shrugged. "I don't see the problem."

"Except for the part where she's hiding in a city with a good 6 million people and tons of buildings, sewers, and other spots that she can hide in", Gunn chimed in. "Nice suggestion, bro, but not gonna be easy."

"Plus", Faith added. "Not meaning to be the bearer of doom and gloom, that's Spare Parts Boy's job", her eyes ticked to Skip. "But if 'Cordy' is really that hard on about hatching her nest egg, what's to say that she won't kill herself before we have the chance to take it away for her, taking the real Cordelia with her?"

"It won't come to that", Xander said emphatically.

"Oh, no?", Anya challenged, her eyebrows raised. "Think about it. This thing had no qualms about killing thousands of people just to get to well into her third trimester. Raging hormones aside, what's to stop her from turning that homicidal energy into suicidal if we come in and go all 'Operation Sting' on her?"

"Anya's right", Buffy said. "So we can't let it come to that. We have to find her, and fast. Odds are, the sooner we find 'Cordelia', the sooner we find Connor and my soon-to-be-grounded-forever sister."

Angel whirled to Skip. "How do we find her?"

Skip stayed silent for a moment, hesitating. They're getting close…

"How?", Angel repeated tersely.

Skip shrugged, careless. "Well, I'd go with a Bu'shundi ritual but you're going to need a sacred Hutamin paw for that, and-"

"Got it!", Lorne piqued up as he leapt to his feet and made his way to the office area.

Skip was in total disbelief. "What?"

Lorne explained, "Cordy— the real Cordy— kept one in her desk drawer."

He walked over to Cordelia's desk and began rooting through the drawers. Lucky him that Cordelia was too busy being outside (and evil) to notice, or else he would've been in a mess of trouble.

Skip scoffed. "Probably a knock-off. It's not some trinket you throw in a desk draw-"

But his smug expression turned to one of shock and dismay when Lorne pulled up the Hutamin paw, a tiny furry hand with claws, from the drawers.

Lorne allowed himself a brief chuckle. "She thought it was a back scratcher."

Buffy, Willow and Xander shared a look between them, small smiles thinking back to when they knew her in Sunnydale High. Typical Cordy, was the thought they shared between themselves. Funny how the more a person changes, or was heard to change, the more they remained the same. In some ways, given the circumstances, that was a comforting thought.

Angel, having smiled briefly in relief, turned to Wesley and Giles. "Get started. Lorne, give them a hand. Willow-"

"—will also lend her hands. On it, Big Guy", Willow breezily smiled.

"Darla?", Wesley turned a questioning, and almost hopeful, gaze to the blonde ex-vampire.

"Of course", Darla smiled and nodded. "I'll be glad to help."

Buffy frowned as she folded her arms across her chest, appearing reluctant. "I dunno…you guys sure you can trust her?"

"She was, ah, actually quite helpful in our last round of research", Giles offered. "Perhaps it would behoove us to have her presence near."

"And she is quite human, I can assure you", Wesley said, his voice working to keep the strain out. He was getting weary over Buffy's concerns against Darla.

Sighing, Buffy relented. "Fine. Just go, see if you can finish your game of 'Where's Cordy?' quickly as you can."

"No problem, Buff. Besides, I remember when I was 9, I used to be really good at that game", Willow chuckled, before adding. "Oh, wait…that was 'Where's Waldo?', I forgot."

Lorne smiled. "Well, come on, Berrylicious, let's see if we can find the needle in the L.A. haystack."

And with that, the group began their way back into Wesley's study.

Buffy nodded. She looked up at Angel. "Good. Then we should saddle up, get a rescue team together."

"Great minds", he smirked.

"Guess so", she smiled back at him. "Spike, you and Faith keep an eye on the Tin Can Man over there. I want muscle here in case he gets loose."

"Always up for a little violence", Faith practically purred.

"Same here", Gunn smiled down at Faith. "I'll stick around, too, help babysit Rust-Face. Fred?"

"Sure, why not?", Fred shrugged. "S'not like he's goin anywhere, anyways." Gunn was a little off-put by her non-chalant behavior, but opted wisely to say nothing.

"What can I do?", Wood asked.

"Stay here with the rest of the gang", Buffy said. "If you can, round up the girls, take them somewhere they can, I dunno, train or something. But with quick access exits."

"You should use the downstairs hall on the left", Angel jumped in. "Plenty of side doors, should lead them right out in case trouble happens."

"I'm on it", Wood replied casually.

"Me, too", Kennedy jumped up, turning a smug glance at Buffy. "I'm always up for training the others."

Buffy fought back the urge to snap at Kennedy, who was so obviously using this as a way to undermine Buffy's authority. But the Slayer had other issues to attend to that were far more critical than a pretentious Slayer-wannabe trying to stick it to her.

Buffy nodded. "Good. Andrew?"

Andrew looked up at her with wide, hopeful eyes that he may be entrusted with some sacred, important duty.

"Kitchen", she instructed. "Cook…something." She was mostly hoping to keep him busy and occupied so as to get him out of the team's hair.

"Oh", he said, deflated. "I…can do that." He looked at Angel. "Got any Flan?"

Angel looked at the boy strangely, before murmuring quietly, "Top left kitchen cabinet. Behind the brown sugar."

"Thanks", Andrew smiled excitedly before hurrying off to the kitchen.

Off Buffy's odd glance, Angel shrugged. "What? I like…Flan."

"Could this get any weirder?", Xander deadpanned.

"We better get started", Buffy said, shaking the image of a Flan-eating Angel out of her head. She had enough craziness to deal with already.

"Wait a tick, love", Spike protested. "I oughta be in on this whole search-and-rescue, shouldn' I? And I'm already familiar with L'il Bit's and the Pouf's kid's scents. Vamp senses would help track the bird faster."

"That's why I'm here", Angel said brusquely. "You're better off staying here in case Skip busts loose."

"Maybe you'd be better off here, Peaches", Spike tartly retorted. "This is your bloody house."

"But I know L.A.'s sub routes by heart. You don't. You're staying", Angel reminded him, his voice patronizing, but firm. Commanding.

"You think I'm gonna let you tell me what to do?", Spike shot back, refusing to back down. " This ain't like old times, I'm not one of your flunkies you can just order about, you ponce!"

"Who you callin' a flunkie, Popcorn Head?", Gunn growled.

"Was I even talkin to you?", Spike scowled at Gunn.

A glowering Gunn was up and in the slightly smaller Spike's face. "You're talkin' to me now, and unless you want to be spendin' quality time in the inside of a dustpan, you'll be apologizing to me now."

"Charles…", Fred tentatively tried to keep the peace, placing a hand on her ex's bicept.

"Little uppity, ain'cha, mate?", Spike smugly taunted. "Angel, haven't you housebroken 'im yet?"

"Hey, hey, hey, come on", Faith said cautiously as she inched closer to the two men. "Let's be all civilized here-"

"Wanna say that again, Snagglefang?", Gunn challenged, his rage flaring as he bumped his chest hard into Spike, who growled before he balled his fist and sent it flying.

His fist stopped short of Gunn's face as Buffy's cast-iron grip held fast.

"Spike", she started tersely. "This isn't up for discussion. You're staying here with Faith and the others. And you're going to play nice with everyone else! Is that understood?"

Spike's hurt gaze looked between Buffy and Angel, before he scowled, shaking loose his fist from her grip. "Oh, I see how it is", he said. "You leave me here watchin' the Metal Mouth while you go off makin' time with your Dark Prince of Ponces, then? Give him all the credit for being the big strappin' hero while I'm stuck here being an over glorified babysitter?"

"I need you here", Buffy responded, her voice slightly gentler. "You're one of the strongest we have and you might be the only one who can protect the others in case Skip gets out. I'm counting on you."

Although her words mollified him slightly, one look at Angel standing just behind his darling Buffy and Spike felt the jealousy clench his muscles.

"Fine. I'll stay", he sighed loudly. "If he gets out, I'll just visualize Angel's face on his body, then."

"Good. Pretend. That'd be the closest you'd ever come to beating me up, Spike", Angel sniped.

Spike seethed. "Listen, you-"

"Hey." Faith came up and tapped Spike on the shoulder. "Come on, Bloody. Just chill and sit with me while we watch Steel Toe over there. We can trade stories, swap cigs…it'll be fun."

Spike thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, suddenly the prospect of guarding Skip in the hotel sounding quite appealing. "Well, then, hope you got a full carton on ya, luv", Spike sighed, managing a faint grin at her. "I'm suddenly got the urge to light a few out like a chimney."

"You know me", Faith grinned mischievously. "I'm always fully stacked."

"Don't have to tell me twice", Spike waggled one of his eyebrows, drawing a small chuckle from Faith.

Buffy looked uncomfortably at the interaction between the blonde-haired vampire and the dark-haired Slayer. She leaned into Angel, and whispered, "Am I the only one here who's extremely wigged out here?"

"Oh, good, I thought I was the only one for a minute", Angel said in a hushed tone.

"I want to come", Xander called out abruptly.

His outburst stunned all of them . Buffy was shaking her head. "Xander, I don't-"

"Buff, hear me out", Xander cut her off. This was something he had to say. "Look, I…I know Cordy. Grew up with her. And okay, granted, maybe we don't exactly have the best personal history together, I still know her. There's still the chance that somewhere in there, that same 5-year old girl who chased me around the kindergarten swings trying to kiss me, that same girl I spent time trading insults, and jibes, and…eventually spit. The point is…she's in there somewhere. You guys don't know that side of her, 'cause you didn't grow up with her. I did. I was able to reach Willow back when she went all apocalyptic, remember? Who knows…maybe I can…"

"Get sliced and diced like a piece of Mozzarella cheese?", Anya blurted out incredulously. "Xander, whatever's in her now, make no mistake about it. She's not the girl you dated, and cheated on, and who dumped you…she's evil. Pure, unadulterated. Evil. What can you do?"

Xander's eyes flashed for a moment as he turned back to his ex-fiancée. "Ahn! Not being helpful."

Anya glared back, her arms folded petulantly across her chest, her tone dripping with sarcasm and, hinting, a little bit of jealousy. "No. Just being practical. One of those things you claimed to love about me."

Buffy laid a hand on Xander's shoulder, meeting his eyes sympathetically. "It's very sweet, Xander. But I can't risk putting you or anyone else in danger. Maybe…maybe you're right, maybe the real Cordy is in there somewhere…but no one's been able to reach her. For now, we're just going to have to assume that she's gone. For now, anyways."

Xander opened his mouth to protest, but Buffy held up her hand, gently. "We'll get her back. I promise."

Sighing, the young man hesitantly nodded. He had trusted Buffy for years, and her word was almost golden. If she said she was going to get back Cordelia, then he knew that not even Hell itself would be able to stand in her way.

"Okey-dokey", Xander whistled. "I, uh…I guess I'll just go help the future Slayers Corps of America get settled in."

"Good", Buffy nodded. She looked back at Angel, trying hard to keep the softness out of her business-like stare. "Conference? Plan out our strategy?"

"Sure", Angel nodded in agreement, before turning back to the rest of the group. "The rest of you, you know your assignments", he briefly informed them. "Let's get started."

And with that, they departed into Angel's private study together.

Skip, suddenly extremely nervous, began to excitedly call out to the departing heroes, "Uh, wait! Did I say Bu-shundi? I meant...Ru-shundi. It's-it's a whole different…"

But he saw that no one was buying it. And as he turned to see Spike smirking wickedly at him, Faith glaring at him coldly, Gunn burning a hole through him, arms folded across his chest, Fred staring icily, Wood regarding him oddly with one raised eyebrow, Kennedy scowling at him, Xander letting out a distasteful 'tch' and Anya shaking her head in disgust, he could only think of one word to sum up his current state of conditions.

"Crap."


Molly sat coiled in a corner, only a faint shaft of light entering from a hole no bigger than her fist.

Hidden well from sight, Molly had chosen this spot for its obscurity from site, its proximity to 'Cordelia', and the closeness to the exit. She was the portrait of concentration. Eyes locked on her target. Crouched on one knee, holding steady. Crossbow firmly in hand.

And wincing as she glanced over to her rather jumpy partner-in-crime.

"Would you please stop biting your fingernails? That's disgusting", Molly quietly scolded Vi, without so much as looking up.

"I don't understand how you can be so calm at a time like this", Vi whispered. "She's standing right there, not a few feet away, with a meat cleaver, and you've gone all 'Focus Girl' on me."

"Hush, will you? We'll be fine", Molly said, her level eyes keeping trained on 'Cordelia', her fingers steadily holding the crossbow. "Just make sure you're ready to go if you have to."

"You mean…if you miss", Vi snarked. She couldn't help it. She knew that Molly took a great deal of pride in her bowmanship.

Molly shot her an icy glare. "I. Don't. Miss."

"O-kay", Vi sing-songed, just to get under her skin. Sometimes, it was just too easy.

The British girl sighed impatiently. "I think I preferred you when you were feasting away on your cuticles."

"Oh, come on, Moll, humor me", Vi cajoled her. "Besides, for all we know these might be our last moments on Earth together."

"Don't talk like that", Molly sternly said. "We'll be fine. Everything is going to work."

"Sure", Vi said, unconvinced. "Because it's not like we haven't done this before, right?"

"Dawn and Connor will handle it", she reassured her. "I'm certain they have everything under control."

"Molly, they're just as new at this as we are", Vi countered. "For all we know they're probably getting carved up into little bity pieces right now."

"Vi, just stop getting your knickers in a twist", Molly argued. "Dawn's got a…decent plan so far. You have to take stock in the fact that Buffy, a Slayer, is her sister. And Connor's quite powerful. They know what they're doing."

"Looks like you got quite a bit of faith in those two", Vi observed.

"They've let us this far", Molly said, turning to glance at her friend. "And they've kept us safe. I'm sure that whatever happens from now, they'll be ready for it."


"Are you sure you're ready for this?", Connor asked her, one more time, his own nerves starting to jump.

Dawn nodded. "Uh-huh." Though she was quite more afraid than her looks would betray.

"I'll protect you, I swear", Connor said gently. "I won't let her hurt you."

Their eyes met, and Dawn felt a bit more calm. She didn't know why, but she trusted him…and somehow she knew that he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

"Okay", she said softly.

Nodding, Connor tugged on the ropes binding her wrists. "Keep your head down", he instructed.

He pulled her down the hallway, into the meat-packing building's center floor. Dawn made a good show of struggling and whimpering as she was led down into the room.

She peaked through her long hair, kept down to the floor, to see Connor stop about a good six feet in front of a figure dressed in black.

"How DARE you show your face around here again, you little bastard!", she recognized Cordelia's voice hiss. She winced at the venom laced in her voice, the hatred.

"I…made a mistake…", Connor began, his voice slightly wavering. "You were right…about everything…my mother's a liar…she hates me, you, our baby…she wants to kill it. But I won't let her. I won't let anyone. I'll make it up to you, Cordy, I promise."

"Really?", 'Cordelia' snorted. "And what makes you think I'll just take you back in, boy? Why shouldn't I just kill you right where you stand?"

At that, he shoved Dawn hard to the ground between them, the girl letting loose a frightened cry as she hit the floor, face-first.

Connor flashed an evil sneer. "Because I've brought an offering."

'Cordelia's' shock melted away into a cold, sinister smile.


To Be Continued…

Next chapter: Time's ticking away as Cordelia's life hangs in the balance. Can our heroes stave off the peril long enough to survive? Will Buffy and Angel arrive in time? As they grow closer to LA, how will Linsdey, Oz, and Whistler's arrival shake things up?

Next chapter: Time's ticking away as Cordelia's life hangs in the balance. Can our heroes stave off the peril long enough to survive? Will Buffy and Angel arrive in time? As they grow closer to LA, how will Lindsey, Oz, and Whistler's arrival shake things up?

BTW, Lindsey fans/Oz Fans / Whistler fans, sorry, I was gonna add them in this chapter, but I thought that their scene would make more sense later on. But next chapter, guaranteed, Lindsey, Oz and Whistler will be there! Do not despair!

See ya,

Jean-theGuardian