A/N: Hey, whatever happened to that Buffy Fan person who used to give me such a hard time years ago? It's like the dude/ette just poofed and vanished…oh, well. Thanks to supernatural-fan18, Trendy-Vamp1991, BloodyTink & angelplusbuffyequals4ever for your reviews. You guys RULE!
Hope you guys enjoy - and please review and comment on - the next chapter of:
Bring Me To Life - A BtVS/Angel Crossover Event
Part 14 - Guess Who's Comin' to Armageddon
Catholic monastery - Gilroy, CA
One Night Later
Night time always brought a peaceful quiet to this particular place of worship. A place where men of the cloth could find the solace, peace and tranquility needed to worship, to pray, to do God's work.
Yes, Tobias did love what the night brought to this humble monastery. After he had finished his chores, he had retreated to his own private quarters for a round of private meditation. However, even for the most patient of men, tapping into the subtle and rewarding ways of enlightenment can grow…wearisome.
Therefore, Tobias thought it would behoove him to indulge himself with a walk through the garden. The monastery, while simple in nature and structure, did host a most stunning display of trees and rare flowers, gathered from virtually every corner of the world by the order's diverse membership.
The chimes of the bells in the tower drew his attention. They were being graced by a visitor this evening.
Eventually, Tobias reached the door, along with several of his brethren. When the door swung open, it revealed a tall man, bearing clerical clothing.
"Evenin', gents," the man drawled. "I don't suppose I could trouble y'all for a place to spend the night?"
"No, no trouble at all. We would welcome any within our humble home, especially a fellow man of the cloth."
The so-called preacher smiled. "Well, isn't that swell." He let himself in, taking an appreciative look around the modest hallway, decorated with various religious icons. "By the way, Caleb's the name. And, I must say, it just warms me to the bone, all this hospitality for a guy who drove halfway across the country non-stop."
"Surely, then, you must be tired from such a journey. While we don't have much, we have more than enough to provide you with nourishment after your travels -"
"Padre," Caleb raised his hand. "While I'm sure you probably serve the best corn meal slop this side of Knoxville, that's not exactly what I'm a-cravin'."
Tobias wasn't sure why, but there was something in the pit of his stomach that was telling him not to trust this man. Something that told him how, clerical collar or otherwise, there was something wrong about Caleb.
But being the ever-pious monk that he was, he could not bring himself to turn his back on an exhausted traveler. Although the man seemed nowhere near as tired as such a described journey would make a man… "Oh. Well, then, what is it that we can -"
But Caleb kept on walking until he reached a statue of the Virgin Mary. "You know, there's an expression. 'Behind every good man, lies a better woman'." He chuckled disdainfully. "Now, I reckon I can't be so dog-gone sure 'bout that, but it always made me wonder…'if that's true, then what lies behind the woman?'"
With that, Caleb gave a hard one-handed push on the statue. The alarmed monks were startled, but noticed that the statue, rather than fall, instead swung open to reveal something unknown to them all.
"Something even better," Caleb smirked, pleased with the sight.
He entered the hidden room, and the monks followed, either through distrust or curiosity. It was a poorly lit room, but Caleb was prepared for that, grabbing a nearby candle sconce and lighting it with his pocket lighter.
"Betcha silly little book types like you didn't even think to look here, did ya?" His eyes scanned the room, searching for something only he seemed to know was there. "Don't fault you none, though. Destiny has a way of revealing itself piece by piece, brick by brick. After all, the Lord does work in mysterious ways. But don't you worry none. After all…"
Caleb broke off momentarily as something caught his eye. An old painting, hung plainly on the wall to the left of him. He approached it and casually tossed the painting to the side…revealing a mysterious message, Greek characters inscribed on the wall, delivering a message in Latin.
Caleb smiled, his dark eyes glittering with excitement. "…the light eventually reveals all. So, boys, take a gander. See the light…that will herald the coming of the Lord. The true Lord."
Caleb's eyes eagerly scanned the message. Being a clergyman once upon a lifetime ago, he was quite familiar with the dead language.
He whispered the translation, "Non tibi est. Ei solae…"
Immediately, Caleb's eyes widened, and his smile faded. A black rage engulfed his eyes - literally, as his eyeballs actually morphed into large opaque pools - as he spun around to face the monks. Seeing Tobias as the closest in his range, Caleb reached out and grabbed the frightened monk by the throat, squeezing hard.
"Where is it?" he whispered, his voice a deadly hiss.
Tobias was immediately panicked. "I-I don't know what you're -"
"Don't play stupid with me, boy!" Caleb bit out, his fingers tightening like a vise. "You little sack-wearing trolls spend every dad-gum day and night inside this little shack, and you mean to tell me you don't know where it is? I want answers, boy, and I want 'em ten seconds ago, lest you make me…ornery."
"P-p-p-please," Tobias stammered, staring in awe at the man's inhuman black eyes. It was like looking into an endless, lifeless void. "I don't understand what you…we knew nothing of what lay in here. You -"
The monk found himself suddenly airborne as he was flung effortlessly into the air, colliding headfirst into the brick wall behind him. Dazed, Tobias could only stare in horror as this horrifying man - this supposed man of the cloth - jerked him up by the scruff of his neck.
"I don't recommend you boys try anything, now," Caleb addressed the stunned clergymen behind him, still maintaining his iron grip on Tobias's throat. "Wouldn't want this l'il fella here to go all to pieces, now, would ya?"
Caleb leaned in menacingly towards his petrified quarry, his enraged black eyes promising a thousand painful deaths. "Now, I reckon I'm about to lose it, padre. So, I'm gonna give you one last shot at giving me what I want. After that?" The force by which he squeezed the man's throat caused the trembling Tobias to gurgle sickeningly. "I reckon I lose it. And maybe you'll lose something, too."
"Mercy…I beg…of you," the terrified monk gurgled as Caleb let him go enough to talk, as he felt the heat of the nearby torch on the wall. "I-I don't know…w-what it is…that you seek…but we have…nothing -"
His words were cut off as Caleb violently slammed him against the wall. The 'priest' regarded Tobias intensely, staring at him as if his deranged gaze could somehow jar loose the secret he desired from the smaller man. After several intense moments, Caleb pulled back slightly, and laughed in arid fashion.
"Well, I'll be…you really don't know where it is, do you?" Caleb chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "Well, ain't that a right peach? A man drives all the way up to this God-forsaken state looking for something, and he can't even get any good customer service."
As he spoke, Caleb stuck his free hand - actually, a ring with a strange symbol on it - into the torch's flames, watching as the ring glowed a hot orange color.
Caleb smiled as he felt the benign monk tremble in his grasp, all the while holding the blazing ring close to his victim's face. "Well, now…doesn't look like you can give me what I came for, does it? But like the song goes…you can't always get what you want, but sometimes -"
With that, Caleb suddenly jammed the burning-hot ring into Tobias's face. The searing pain was instantaneous as the monk screamed in agony, the audible sizzling of his own flesh crackling in his ears as he was branded like an animal.
"You get what you need," the man in black hissed, his eyes glazed over in sadistic pleasure.
Finally, one of the monks could take no more and rushed to pull the false clergyman off of his brethren. Caleb, a look of annoyance on his face, dropped Tobias, turned and simply swatted the holy man away, sending him flying headfirst into a nearby wall…
…which was followed by a loud and sobering 'CRACK!' sound made by his neck snapping.
The monk lay still. Dead.
The gasps of horror by the on-looking monks only made Caleb's chilling smile widen.
"Gentlemen," the servant of the First Evil said, an eerie sense of vicious delight betraying the gentle tone in his Southern drawl. "I do believe it's time you said your prayers."
Tobias could only watch in numb shock as the 'preacher' began crushing skulls, breaking necks and spilling the blood of his brothers...all with incredible ease. All with a murderous smile on his face.
Dear God, what kind of demon have you let into Your house tonight? he silently prayed.
Survival instinct kicked in as Tobias suddenly scrambled up to run, clutching the scarred flesh of his cheek as he hurtled through the secret entrance and then fled down the stone corridor.
Behind him, the screams of death and terror plagued his footsteps as Caleb massacred the rest of the monks with a song in his heart.
Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles
Now
It had been an hour since Angel and Buffy had disappeared off into the night to do their Shining-White-Knights routine and save the missing teens and Cordelia…well, the latter probably not as likely, given their depressing pre-slay pep talk.
Faith and Spike sat on the steps of the staircase leading to the first floor, while a solemn Gunn leaned against one of the pillars to the left of them, while an equally glum Fred sat on the steps to his right, soft brown eyes downcast. Xander leaned against one of the red loveseats in the lobby, a cloud of gloom hovering over him. One that Lorne, standing to the left of the so-called 'Heart of the Scooby Gang', could feel the pea soup thickness of with ease.
Faith couldn't help but to sigh uneasily. She wasn't going to lie - she'd never thought much of Cordelia. She'd always thought of the ex-cheerleader as little more than a snooty, lippy clotheshorse - even before the Beastmaster had given her that wintry greeting when she'd arrived at the hotel, to take on the Beast and Angelus - so, truthfully, Faith couldn't say her impending death would be a heartbreaker.
Not that she wished ill on the brunette seer; hell, she might actually say a prayer for her, if she still bothered to do the monotheistic thing. But if Cordelia died, Faith knew she'd be able to survive it.
It didn't look to her like Spike was too broken up about Cordelia's plight, either. There was a serious, but not grieving look on that good-looking face of his…
Faith took a moment to shake that thought out of her head, that strange vibe she was getting from the flaxen-haired vampire rearing its not-so-ugly head again. With what Spike had told her earlier about him and Buffy, it was obvious there was some unresolved tension of the wriggly variety still there, and after her play at Angel - and that body-swap boink with that ex-commando beefcake a few years back - the last thing the dark-haired Slayer wanted to do was chase another one of Buffy's boy-toys.
It just might get Buffy rethinking her 'no-killing-Faith' policy that she was probably still getting used to. Besides, she wasn't so much into Buffy's leftovers anymore…although she might make an exception in this case…
Faith did feel bad for everyone else, though. Fred looked like she was going to cry at any minute. Gunn looked out of it, too, and Lorne looked down in the dumps, himself. And Xander?
The way he was slouching, Harris looked like someone had shot his puppy right in front of him.
Faith suddenly had a sinking feeling that her old boy-toy still held a torch for the ex-cheerleader, even though he'd apparently almost married that other chick - Tanya, or whatever - and Faith didn't know if that was legit warm fuzzies he was feeling, or part of that weird James Bond-wannabe complex the dude seemed to have of being in lust with all the women in his life. Still, the way he looked, all beaten down and mope-y, it almost made her want to give Xander a hug…that is, if that wouldn't be mad awkward on the count of her being his first lay…and, y'know, trying to kill him and his friends a couple of times…
"So," Xander breathed heavily, taking a look at his company. "Anyone else feel like they're waiting in the doctor's office for those oh-so-happy 'positive' results?"
Gunn shook his head. "I know what you mean, man. I just…I'm not even sure I want to think about what's happening right now."
"Right there with you, sunshine," Lorne sighed, morosely. "I mean, God, it's…poor Cordy-kins."
"This can't be happening," Fred murmured quietly. "How could Angel just…decide - just like that - that he has to kill Cordy?"
Faith shrugged. "Well, I'm reasonably sure Buffy had a hand in that chain of thought."
Gunn eyed her questioningly. "What?"
"Hey!" Xander called out, defensively, pointing his finger at Faith. "You don't know that. You can't just throw around accusations like -"
"Oh, come on, Lassie, spare me the loyalty spiel," Faith dismissively waived him off. "Look, Xander, I don't mean anything personal by it; I mean, I get it. Big picture, gotta save all the shiny happys from the wicked scarys. But, c'mon - you know as well as I do that B's made that left turn down Kill-Your-Friends Lane a few times too many, now."
A shrug. "And I'm not talking about when she tried to gut me before Graduation Day…technically, I was pretty much a mortal enemy back then. Look at what happened with Angel and Acathla a few years back. She went and punched his ticket to Hell pretty easily, from what I heard."
"That was different," Xander shot back. "That was…partly my fault."
"Like it was your fault when B decided to whack your ex-fiancée for getting her demon mojo risin' a few months ago?" Faith retorted. Off Xander's shocked face, she replied, "Yeah, Xander, Willow told me about that in the car drive up to Sunny-D. As well as what happened, when you tried to stop it."
Xander's left eye twitched, as the heat of emotion rose in him at the mention of that particular night. "Hey, here's an idea, Faith - how about you keep your mouth shut about stuff you don't know anything about?"
"Oy…watch it, whelp," Spike bit out, blue eyes flashing with sudden warning, finding the way this walking man-child was talking to the curvy Slayer aside him...upsetting.
A surprised Faith fought to suppress a smile that tugged at her lips at Spike's unexpected defense. Decent of him, I gotta say...
"And why don't you just stay out of this, okay, Evil Undead?" Xander shot back at Spike.
The platinum-haired vampire finally had enough, shooting up to his feet. He'd had his fill of this little git for years, enduring the useless whelp's insults as a daily ritual all due to the fact that he couldn't lay a finger on Harris because of that stupid chip blasting his synapses with searing pain…which was no longer an issue now.
"Newsflash, Bob the bloody Builder - but in case you 'aven't heard, Buffy had those Initiative bastards take that blasted chip out of my noggin. Which means I can hit you now…and then some," Spike scowled as he slowly approached the taller, but all-too-mortal Xander…who cursed himself for swallowing nervously at the deadly vampire's approach. "So, how 'bout you go slouching back in your box before the Evil Undead makes you a paler shade of DEAD-dead?"
Instinctively, Gunn - who'd already had more than his share of Spike from earlier - propelled himself forward from his spot, the vampire hunter in him going automatically on full alert.
"I'd like to see you try, Bleach Brain," Charles growled, as he moved to back up his new friend.
Xander chuckled - despite the overwhelming urge to lose all bladder control - as he shook his head. "Didn't take long, did it Spike? Should've known it was just a matter of time before you got up to your old tricks again, once the muzzle was gone. Soul, chip, it doesn't matter…deep down, you're still nothing but a monster."
Spike flashed the mortal an evil smile, despite the fear that if he tore Xander's throat out like he so badly wanted to do - Buffy would think the exact same thing. "Keep talkin', Harris, that's all you're ever good for. Though that'll be hard for you to do after I rip your tongue out of your throat hole, tie it around your neck and make you wear it."
Feeling the simmering tensions about to reach a boiling point, Lorne attempted to defuse the situation. "Whoa there, cats and kittens; let's take a timeout, shall we?"
"How 'bout you quit threatening the humans around here, Blood Breath, before you piss me off?" Gunn menaced.
"Charles, don't," an anxious Fred pleaded.
"How 'bout you just piss off, mate, and go find another one of Angel's boots to tongue-polish?" an annoyed Spike retorted.
Gunn's already-short fuse finally ignited. "That's it! This vamp's pasty ass is toast. Fred, toss me my axe!"
Upon hearing that, Faith interjected herself between the increasingly angry trio, trying her best to play Referee Girl.
"Guys, please - cut it out, seriously!" Faith yelled, but to no avail as the three males shouted and cursed at each other, fully intending to shed some blood, while Lorne, Fred and Faith loudly called for peace above the angry voices with little success…
All the while, an amused Skip smirked as he watched these so-called heroes about to tear each other apart. "Gosh, what I wouldn't give for a Slurpee and some Sno Caps right about now..."
Click-click-BANG! BANG! BANG!
The loud gunshots coming out of a semi-automatic pistol made everyone in the room jump, effectively bringing the heated confrontation to a stop.
All eyes turned to the entrance of Angel's office, where Wesley - an eerily impassive look on his five o'clock-shadowed face - stood, smoking gun up high in the air for all to see.
Darla, Giles and Willow all quickly followed from the office, alarmed by the gunshots. Everyone just gaped at the ex-Watcher, as he stared back around at the shocked faces in the room.
Slowly, he lowered the pistol, then spoke. Calmly. Softly. Yet with an edge that plainly screamed 'screw-with-me-and-I'll-put-one-in-each-kneecap'. Wesley said:
"Now, then…what seems to be the problem?"
Lorne raised his hand to speak, when Wesley abruptly silenced him. "The question was purely rhetorical, Lorne, as I actually couldn't give a damn what the problem is."
The green-skinned anagogic demon almost cringed as he lowered his hand. Slowly, Wesley turned his attention to the squabbling heroes.
"You're tense," Wesley began.
"Look who's talking," Skip murmured, before the Englishman's icy glare made him clam up.
"We're all tense," Pryce said, continuing to address the group. "A good friend of ours…a long-time friend…is in terrible peril right now. Some of us have an old history together that's not exactly pleasant. Some of us have new history which might be worse. We're trapped in a hotel with a chrome-based sycophantic demon -"
"Hey!" Skip protested on instinct.
"And a swarm of young, impressionable, and unapologetically loud teenage girls being hunted down because of a power they may or may not live long enough to inherit, and the danger is growing with each passing minute."
Having surmised the situation, Wesley paused for a moment, allowing the gathered group to soak in the scope of the chaotic state of affairs.
"Get the hell over it," he said quietly, bluntly.
Darla blinked in astonishment at his words.
Off the surprise etched in their raised brows, Wesley continued, "We're dealing with, at best, two apocalypses closing in on us from both fronts, and at worst, with something so big and massive that it may actually devour us whole. Now's not the time for petty squabbles, personality clashes or sordid love triangles. If that's your cup of tea, MTV Studios is only twenty minutes away by car, so I suggest you go there now…before I reload and take aim at the next person who tries to start something.
"Angel and Buffy need our help. Perhaps more than ever, now. If any of you care for either one of them, then cease this pointless prattle, stop moping about and get back on the same damn page. People are depending on us and for better or worse, right now, we are all they've got. I think they deserve a little better from us than pointless in-fighting, don't you?"
Off the harsh, clipped tone of the ex-Watcher's voice, the bickering heroes had the grace to look shamed (albeit reluctantly) realizing just how far off track they were getting.
Impressed - and somewhat mortally terrified - Willow leaned over to Darla and whispered, "Looks like someone's a grumpy monkey."
"A little bit," Darla replied quietly, although her blue-green eyes, wide in impressed awe, never left Wesley.
Giles smirked as he shook his head in amazement. It astounded him to think that this confident, no-nonsense man with a gun in his hand - who had just silenced a group that included a former rogue Slayer, a legendary vampire, an aggressive vampire hunter and the ever-garrulous Xander Harris - was the same sniveling little twerp who'd screamed in terror when both of them were at the mercy of the repulsive, obese and deadly demon Balthazar four years ago.
Skip grew worried as he saw his enemies start to look a little more together. So, as usual, he tried to stir things up. "Nice speech, there, Old Chap. Not exactly 'Win One for the Gipper'-quality, but hey, points for effort."
"Ah, Skip," Wesley sighed in boredom. "I'd almost forgotten you were still here, though I was rather hoping either Faith or Spike would have killed you by now."
"You wish," the demon snorted.
"I know I do," Fred smiled sarcastically.
"Your wish is my command, pet," the platinum-haired vampire grinned nastily at the entrapped demon. "Just give me two minutes alone with this metal moron, and I'll have him screamin' for his mum's uncle."
"I'd pay to see that on Pay-Per-View," Faith nodded.
"Here, here," Lorne agreed, shooting Skip a scornful glare.
"Oh, please," Skip scoffed, his red eyes delivering a sweeping sneer to his audience. "Who're you guys fooling? You're trying to fight pure, ultimate evil - when you spend more time fighting each other? Sure, you can stop the bickering now, but sooner or later, it'll start up again. And again. And again. You'll be too busy trying to punch the other guy's lights out because he's stepping on your toes, that you won't even see us coming. 'Cause here's the thing about evil - it's got no ego. It doesn't matter to us who's sleeping with who, or who hates who or who took the last Oreo outta the box. Why? Because the goal's still the same - taking this world back and the complete annihilation of your pitiful species and anyone else who doesn't get with the program."
Off their venomous glares, Skip laughed, "Oh, don't give me that look! Deep down, you know it, too. 'Cause we have drive. We have purpose. Hell, we have dental! You? You guys go through your existential crises, and soul-searching and all that touchy-feely nonsense, too busy wallowing in your own crap to realize Rome's burning around you. You guys have nothing going for you! We've got all the pieces falling in place, whereas you guys can't even find a cause to rally around, not a single thing you can agree on, not one reason why you can all put your grievances aside and say, 'Hey, let's work together because -'"
"We've got a live one, people!" Buffy's loud voice barked out as the Slayer practically kicked open the lobby's front doors. Behind her, Angel swept in, cradling a limp, unconscious 'Cordelia' in his arms, with Dawn, Connor, Molly and Vi in tow.
Skip paled in sheer horror. "Oh, monkey poop."
"Oh my God," Xander breathed, as he saw the seemingly-lifeless body of his ex-girlfriend in Angel's arms.
"You found her," Gunn stated, though he was surprised himself.
"Cordelia!" Fred gasped in shock.
Willow eyed the taller vampire anxiously. "Angel, is she -"
"She's fine," Angel reassured her, although his eyes darted around. "Unconscious - but fine. We need to get her set up. Now."
Lorne started towards the stairs. "Right. Uh, there are some blankets upstairs -"
"Blankets?" Angel shook his head. "No. We need chains."
Fred stared at him, flabbergasted. "What? Chains?"
Buffy nodded. "Magic ones. Something that'll keep her contained, even with magic or super-strength or whatever."
"I have just the thing for the job," Wesley said, as he went back into the office, presumably to get that item.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on," Xander called out. "Why're we chaining Cordelia up?"
"That would be on account of her trying to kill me and Connor with black magic…and a really sharp meat cleaver," Dawn provided the answer to him. "Cordelia's possessed, remember? She's pure evil right now!"
Ignoring the shock on most people's faces, Buffy pressed on. "And we need something to free her from the possession thing..." She turned to Willow. "Will, did you get everything you need for that spell?"
"What? Oh, uh, yeah, I think we're set to go, we just finished the translation a few minutes ago," Willow supplied helpfully.
"And it appears we have all the materials necessary to begin," Giles said.
"But the spell can only be done when she's unconscious," Darla added. "If she resists before the spell grants the infiltrators passage into her mind, the psychic backlash could render them catatonic…or worse."
Buffy paused for a moment. "Fine. Get everything ready. But only after we're done."
Willow frowned. "Done with what?"
"Interrogating her," Angel answered for her. "Whatever this thing is, the Beastmaster knows how to get Cordy back, and it knows whatever it is the First wants from it and her. Gunn, Fred, get the tilt table from downstairs. We need to strap her down on it."
"Uh, Angel, that thing weighs a few hundred pounds," Gunn pointed out.
"Faith, give them a hand," Buffy directed the brunette. "Spike, keep an eye on Skip, and my God, how weird does that sentence sound coming out of my mouth?"
Faith rolled her eyes. "I'm on it, B."
In the midst of the whirlwind of activity, Darla's eyes found her son's. Instinctively, she went to him, wrapping her arms around him. Caught off-guard, Connor hesitantly hugged her back.
She pulled back, examining his face with all the doting concern of a mother. "Are you all right? Did she hurt you?"
"I'm fine, Mom," Connor said, appearing flustered.
Seeing her confused glance, his eyes subtly slid over towards Dawn, who was staring at their interaction with keen interest. Darla's eyebrows rose ever-so-slightly, understanding now what had gotten her son so bashful all of a sudden. She didn't want his mom cramping his style. At least, not in front of a pretty girl.
"Okay. We'll talk about it later…" Darla said simply, cocking one perfect golden eyebrow. "…along with why you felt it necessary to sneak out of the hotel on a dangerous mission without telling me or anyone else."
Molly and Vi couldn't help but to giggle as the male teen suddenly grimaced.
Off of Connor's wince, Dawn's brow rose. Wow, Darla the evil vampire showing a motherly side…go figure.
Buffy caught sight of Angel tenderly holding his seer's unresponsive hand, and felt another surge of jealous insecurity spike through her. But she forced it down and tried to smother it - even as the words 'She's more than that' kept echoing in her brain - as the Slayer attempted to gain a suddenly morose Angel's attention.
"Angel," Buffy said softly, before giving his shoulder a small shake. "Angel, snap out of it. We need you."
Reluctantly, the dark-haired vampire nodded. "I know. It's just…it's Cordy."
A relenting sigh escaped Buffy's lips, before she returned his nod, sympathetically. "Yeah…I know."
Xander peered fretfully over his best friend's shoulder towards the sleeping raven-locked beauty on the floor. "Do you really think we can get her back, Buff?"
"I don't know, Xander." Her eyes suddenly hardened. "But we're sure as hell gonna try. I lost Merrick, we lost Mom, and Jenny, and Kendra and Tara…I'll be damned if we're going to lose another one. We will not. Lose. Cordy."
Angel felt his resolve strengthen as he saw the determination smoldering in the blonde Slayer's blue-green eyes. "Damn right we won't," he said, softly but fiercely.
Off his gritty reply, Buffy gave him a small grin. "Now there's the Angel I know."
His signature half-smile was her reward for her encouragement, and for a moment, it was just them again, the world briefly fading out as the former lovers locked their longing eyes on one another…
Lorne raised an eyebrow at the interaction between everybody's favorite Angel and the petite blonde Slayer, his demon senses picking up the intense, stunningly natural chemistry between them. If this wasn't moira - the Pylean word for gut physical attraction - then he wasn't green. And from the way he caught the pair of ex-lovers looking at each other even before they had returned with Cordy in arms, there was definitely some major kye-rumption going on, maybe even more so than he had seen between Angel and Cordelia.
Catching their stare, Xander rolled his eyes. He'd thought the Buffy/Angel cow-eyes crap had been left behind in the '90s where it belonged, along with Hootie and the Blowfish and Hanson's Mmm-Bop song.
He couldn't think of anything more irritating than his co-best friend and the broody vampire staring longingly at each other…
"Okay, everyone!" Andrew called out before he emerged from the kitchen, fully adorned with an apron that said 'Smooch the Cook', holding a silver tray that held several cups of flan. "I-iiiiiit's FLAAN TIME!"
Upon gazing upon the nerd's food and then the former Trio member himself, everyone in the room only offered him a blank stare.
But, then again, there's always Andrew, Xander relented unhappily.
As the fog of unconsciousness began to fade and clear, the first thing 'Cordelia' felt was a sharp pain on her face…no doubt courtesy of that Connor brat's fist.
The Beastmaster shook off the cobwebs, dimly aware that time was still running out, and with the sacrifice most likely no longer present, things were getting to the point where it couldn't possibly get any worse…
"Rise and shine, 'Cordy'," a familiar female voice chirped.
'Cordelia' opened her eyes and stared wide-eyed into the grim faces of the two people she had dreaded seeing the most - Angel and Buffy Summers.
She instinctively tried to flee, only to find her wrists and hands chained firmly to some contraption restraining her, but keeping her vertical to the audience of heroes in front of her. The chains were enchanted, too, she could instantly tell.
The Beastmaster could recognize the faces of the so-called Scooby Gang mixed with Angel's crew, with that bitch Darla and that little rat Connor among the mix - along with that brat Dawn, who'd nearly broken her nose earlier.
Opting to mask her fear, 'Cordelia' chuckled sardonically. "Well, well…gang's all here. What happened, Angel? Couldn't handle it all by your lonesome, so you decided to call in the Sunnydale chapter of the Little Rascals?"
Willow frowned. "Well, it kinda sounds like Cordy."
"But we all know it's not," Angel icily replied.
A smug smile adorned the Beastmaster's face. "Aww…more wishful thinking there, hero?"
Buffy sighed as she walked towards the bad guy. "Okay, you know what? I can see where this is going. We make quips, you make quips, we banter, we threaten, yadda-yadda-yadda. But I'm kinda in a rush, so let's just cut to the chase here."
She stared at the thing possessing the body of her friend. "First off, the real Cordy would never be caught dead in that weird muumuu outfit. I mean, what were you going for, this spring's 'evil pregnant slut' look?"
"Beats what you're wearing, Slayer," 'Cordelia' snarked. "Where'd you get that top, the Bulgarian chapter of Sears?"
Buffy was impressed, to a degree. That sounded exactly like something the Cordy she knew would say.
"Well, at least I don't have cankles, unlike some people currently chained up," Buffy smirked, cutting off the offended Beastmaster before she could spit out another remark. "Now where's Cordelia? The real one?"
"I'm right here," the pregnant woman replied, innocently.
"Cut the crap," Buffy said, her eyes hardening with menace. "We want our friend back. Release her, and we promise we won't destroy you in the process. But we want her back. Right now."
'Cordelia' sneered. "Say pretty plea -"
She suddenly found herself gasping for air, wide-eyed in fear, as the Slayer's hand shot out and squeezed her windpipe, hard.
Buffy offered a sweet grin, contrasted by the deadly gleam visible in her eyes. "Please. Pretty," she ground out through the smile.
"Buffy," Angel said, the tone in his voice asking her to back down.
Yet the blonde Slayer held fast, her eyes deadlocked with the hazel orbs of her possessed friend.
"That's…right…mngh…Slayer," the gasping brunette taunted with a conceited smirk. "Go ahead…kill me…but, then your friend…dies…with me. Can't see…Angel…forgiving you…after you…strangle… the new love…of his life..."
The words cut into Buffy more than she would admit, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to squeeze hard enough to pop the brunette woman's eyes out of her head. However, she took a deep breath, calming herself, and reluctantly released her vice-like grip on the villainess's throat.
'Cordelia' coughed and wheezed for breath, all the while smirking at the frustrated blonde. "Whoo! Boy, looks like someone needs a visit from the decaf fairy."
For his part, Xander could barely believe that this was Cordy…well, okay, actually she had the classic Cordelia Chase 'tude down to a pretty good imitation. Although the real Cordy could put a little more sting in her barbs. Not good, not good…
Having officially had enough, Angel strode to Buffy, standing side by side with her. "No more games. We don't know who you are, but we know what your game is. We know you're in league with The First."
Despite the surprise at Angel's statement, 'Cordelia' kept it cool. "The first what?"
"Evil," Buffy cut in. "You know, the thing that knocked you up and made you a baby factory?"
The pregnant woman's shrill laugh gave Buffy a major case of the wiggins. "HA! Poor, stupid, Buffy. Out of the loop on Angel's life these days, as always."
Ignoring the sting of those words, Buffy stood her ground. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's just more mind games. Don't let her get to you," Angel quickly spoke up.
'Cordelia' gave the vampire a reprimanding 'tsk-tsk.' "Naughty-naughty, Angel…keeping secrets in the closet? Not very Champion-like."
Buffy turned her inquiring gaze to Angel. "Angel, what's she talking about?"
Angel hesitated, not sure if this was the place or time to get into this.
"Oh, come on, Angel - tell her," 'Cordelia' taunted, resting her cruel eyes on Buffy. "Tell your little Slayer tramp all about how your son - the fruit of your loins from your illicit roll in the hay with your evil-bitch sire, Darla - planted his seed inside of the new apple of your eye, moi, and dropped us all right at the doorstep to the end of the world as you know it."
All eyes turned in shock both to Angel and to a suddenly self-conscious Connor, who felt annoyed if not intimidated by these strangers staring at him with their judgmental eyes.
Dawn, from her place alongside Connor, stared at the boy, confused…and hurt. "Connor, what's she saying?"
The boy opened his mouth, to try to say something, anything to the pretty girl who smelled like candy beside him that would sound halfway decent, only to be cut off by another snide remark from the fake Cordelia.
"What - are all the women in the Summers family this dumb, or did you just totally skip high school biology class? Connor. Is. The. Father. That simple enough for you, ya dumbass brat?"
"Dawn, I..." Connor clumsily started, but the wounded stare in Dawn's eyes made him falter.
'Cordelia' snickered. "Oh, wait a second…don't tell me you and Miracle Man-child over there had a thing going on? Ha! Wow, guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it, lover?" She gave the youngest Summers woman a heartless sneer. "Guess Junior never bothered to tell you about that, did he, Dawnie? I could understand why, though. I mean, a deadbeat dad? Not much of a turn-on. Looks like you inherited that classic Summers taste in men. Really know how the pick the winners, don't you?"
Buffy, offended as an older sister, a grieving daughter and as a young woman, moved threateningly towards 'Cordelia' - only to have Angel lay a restraining hand on her arm.
"Don't let her get to you," he repeated softly. "That's not Cordy."
"I'm not really sure I care, right now," Buffy said through gritted teeth.
Dawn, feeling her lip quivering, could no longer bear to look at Connor, or stand to hear the cutting words from the Beastmaster. Without explanation, she found herself pushing through the small crowd as she hurriedly ascended the stairs.
A panicked Connor went to follow. "Dawn, wait, please! Just let me…"
But Molly and Vi reached him first, Molly grabbing his arm and saying, "Connor, don't. She's…she looks pretty upset. And when Dawn gets upset, she never talks to anybody. It's like talking to a wall…that's behind another wall."
"We'll go talk to her, okay?" Vi offered.
Connor felt his mother's hand gently rest on his shoulders. "Maybe you should heed their advice, honey," Darla gently suggested.
Connor's shoulders sagged, nodding dejectedly at the two girls, who gave him pitying smiles as they ran up the stairs after a despondent Dawn. Just his luck - he finally meets a beautiful, brave, funny, non-evil girl and he ruins it before it could even begin. Story of the suck-fest that was his life…
Seeing the heartbroken look on Connor's face, Darla turned angry blue-green eyes towards 'Cordelia', who was on the receiving end of murderous stares from an irate Buffy, a furious Angel and the angry glares of everyone in the room.
"What? Was it something I said?" was the Beastmaster's falsely naïve reply, shrugging casually.
Buffy growled, her heart hammering in rage as she resisted the urge to blast this bitch's teeth down her throat. Just one more snide remark…
"Oh, Satan's balls - will somebody get this bint talking already, or do I gotta do it myself?" Spike threw up his hands.
"Spike, not now," Willow hushed him.
A glowering Angel shot Spike a dirty look before he closed in on 'Cordelia', slamming his powerful hands hard against both sides of the metal contraption.
"Okay, now I'm getting bored," he hissed, cold dark eyes boring into the captive woman. "You're skating on real thin ice right at the moment, so why don't you just tell us what it is that you know…before I make you?"
Buffy's tone was filled with demand, her eyes gleaming with promised pain as she said, "What's your connection to The First? What the hell is that thing growing inside you? And where's the real Cordelia? Answers. Now!"
'Cordelia' laughed haughtily at the two warriors. "What are you gonna do? Kill me? You can't even touch me, not while I'm in this body. Can't risk hurting your worthless little Cordelia in the process. And even if you could, whatever you brain trusts do to me is nothing compared to what'll happen if the First Evil doesn't get its…"
Her eyes widened, as 'Cordelia' realized she might have said too much.
"Oh, crap," Skip muttered in dismay, evidently realizing it too.
Angel's eyes narrowed. "Its what?"
"Nothing," the brunette quickly stonewalled, the evil smirk returning in short order.
Buffy, folding her arms across her chest, didn't buy it. "The baby. Or…whatever it is that's inside your oven…that's what the First wants, isn't it?" She turned to Angel. "It makes sense. That's what all of this is about."
"But what doesn't make sense is why there's more than one being in there," Wesley interjected.
Connor turned to him, surprised. "What?"
Giles explained, "Darla told us that there are two entities currently residing within Cordelia's body."
A puzzled Connor looked at his mother. "How do you know that?"
"Fragments of memories, sweetie," Darla clarified, turning from Connor to Angel and Buffy. "Whatever she did to tie me to this world again is still clouding that knowledge, but I remember the Powers telling me about there being at least two entities present inside of her."
"One is probably serving as either a distraction, or protection, for the other one, although it's unclear which is which," Wesley added, his hawk-like eyes appraising a scowling 'Cordelia.'
"You're just grasping at straws," the Beastmaster countered, although Angel could hear her heartbeat beginning to ever-so-slightly pick up the pace, his nose peppered by the stench of her fear.
"My guess is, you're probably the distraction," Angel surmised. "I mean, why put the fragile cargo on the outside?"
"So, this thing talking to us," Buffy pointed at the Beastmaster, "is just the wrapping for the real surprise toy in the cereal box?"
"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Angel looked to Buffy. "The First declares war. War's like a chess game. The pawns always go first."
'Cordelia' glared. "Who're you calling a pawn, Soul Boy?"
"Back rank checkmate," Giles realized.
Gunn was confused. "Back what-now?"
Willow's eyes lit up with understanding. "Yeah! You're right. W-when the queen moves along the back row on the chessboard."
"While the king is boxed in by its own pawns," Wesley mused.
Fred got it now. "And Cordelia's the queen. Or Fake Cordy is, anyway."
"Uh, can you translate that for us less brainy types? 'Cause I still have trouble mastering the time-honored art of 'Connect 4'," an annoyed Xander pointed out.
"As much as I hate to say this, I've gotta go with Xander on this one," Faith spoke up.
"It means, while everyone's been chasing their tails over the First Evil, Possessed Girl over there's been the real flag we shoulda been lookin' to capture," Spike replied with a small grin.
Lorne's green brow creased in a frown. "So, if we know what the Red Herring is…"
"Then what's the Golden Goose?" Anya asked.
"Whatever's there along for the ride with her," Buffy answered, turning to glare at the pregnant woman. "Isn't it? Cordy's still inside you. My guess is, you've worked some kind of mojo to bind her soul down in some dark corner so she can't surface and tell us herself."
'Cordelia' glared at her, but said nothing.
"Mojo it is, then," Angel smirked.
"As if it matters?" the Beastmaster spat out, glaring at its enemies. "You think you're scratching the surface, when you haven't so much as smudged the varnish. You think all these little assumptions and your little 'Clue' games are going to be the key to getting your seer slut back?"
Angel and Xander's jaws both clenched at the crass reference to Cordy, while Buffy fought to keep herself from throttling the arrogant 'mother-to-be'.
"Well, it's not gonna happen," the Beastmaster snarled. "I've kept my end of the bargain, and I'm not leaving until I get what I want. The Cordelia Chase you know is gone. She's mine, now. Body and soul. And you can't risk getting rid of me, capisce? Because you don't have any answers for why this is all happening, no prophecy guiding you along, and no floating Oracles to riddle-you-this-and-that -"
"So what about a time travel spell? You think you could cope with that, Little Miss Body Thief?" Xander suddenly asked, a mean and angry look unexpectedly appearing in his eyes.
Everyone stared at him, as 'Cordelia' sneered to try to cover up her sudden anxiety. "Who gave you permission to speak while the grown-ups are talking, Zeppo Boy? Now why don't you go fetch some doughnuts, seeing how that's all you're good for -"
"Pretty weak insult; even Spike could do better than that. Hell, the real Cordy could have done better when she was six years old," Xander cut her off. He gestured with his head at Skip, who was still trapped and impotent within his prison. "I've been thinking about it, ever since Metal Head over there said that Cordelia dating me in high school was all part of the plan. Part of the manipulation. And I guess that actually makes sense, if you stop and think about it."
"Meaning?" 'Cordelia' sneered.
"Xander, this isn't the time..." Angel started to say impatiently.
"Let him talk," Buffy cut him off, as the ensouled vampire stared at her in surprise. Despite the annoyance over the 'Kick his ass' thing, she still wanted to hear what Xander had to say.
Xander didn't seem to notice the interruption. "Thing is I've thought about it, on and off, for a long time. See, Cordy and I were happy together - all right, we fought like cats and dogs most days, but we'd been together for about a year before the…thing between Willow and me happened one night."
The red-haired witch closed her eyes for a moment, recalling that evening with a stab of pain. The desire, the guilt, and the excitement of finally making out with her life-long crush had made Willow alternately completely scared and utterly thrilled back then...
"For six weeks, Willow and I were into the whole 'illicit smoochies' deal. Then when Cordy and Oz finally found out - at the worst possible time, granted - it was all over between me and my girlfriend. Not saying I didn't deserve it -" Xander continued to expound on his theme.
"You sure did," Skip chuckled, then he shut himself up as the gang turned to look at him. "Oh, don't mind me - please, keep going!"
"Oh my Goddess," Willow whispered in horror, staring at the silver mercenary demon as she suddenly realized something. "You were there?"
"OH! I get it," Spike chuckled, he was familiar with this story as he'd played a role in Cordelia getting impaled by the rebar that night. He said to Skip, "You cast a bloody lust spell on Red and the whelp back then, didn't ya? Bloody hell…"
"Oh, Goddess…no wonder after we were discovered, it was all over. Just like that. Like someone had simply flipped off a switch or something," Willow choked out, suddenly feeling violated - just like Tara had felt, after that forgetting spell Willow had performed on her last year.
"Look, getting back on topic - that whole thing between me and Cordy was planned, like Skippy here said. Both the unlikely start and the bad ending. After all, if she'd never dated me - odds are that at least one of her rich friends would have helped her out somehow, after Cordy's family lost all of its money. Probably Aura," Xander resumed his analysis. He stared at the Beastmaster and said, "So you needed Cordelia broke and on the outs with everyone after high school, in order to end up Angel's Vision Girl - which is where I came in. And...to make sure I stayed out of the picture completely once my job was done, you arranged for me to meet Anya?"
"Is there a point to all this Xander-babble, loser?" 'Cordelia' asked playfully, even though her furious hazel eyes told a different story.
"Yeah, like I said. A good old-fashioned time travel spell. As in, Willow does her mojo in order to reach out and touch someone - namely, me. Change what happened in the past that day with Norman the Bug Man, during junior year. Because if I'd never gotten involved with Cordelia, then none of this would have ever happened to her, right?" Xander asked cuttingly. "Whoever or whatever you are, you wouldn't even be here right now."
The young man's words unleashed a virtual storm within everyone's minds.
Angel regarded Xander - the powerless one, the annoying one, yet the only person who could have made Angelus back off in the hospital that night - like a venomous snake that had somehow appeared out of nowhere. Because what the kid had said just now definitely made sense, in a horribly painful and completely repulsive way. Angel had never forgotten Cordelia's descriptions of the Birthday-verse; the life Skip had shown the seer that she could have had, the one where she would have been a rich and famous actress - and where he would have been the insane Vision Boy after Doyle had passed his gift onto the wrong successor, with Wesley and Gunn the somewhat cynical and world-weary demon fighters.
Wesley and Giles exchanged glances, wondering if Xander was right - and if he was, what would be the implications of his unorthodox and highly dangerous plan. Assuming, of course, that such a thing was even possible.
Darla looked stunned, staring at Connor. The son she and Angel had created together. The son she had borne after Wolfram & Hart had brought her back as a human, and then brought Drusilla in to turn her into a vampire. If they did this, and everything happened differently - would that mean that Connor would never be born? That she herself would never be resurrected in the first place?
Anya was looking alternately frightened and interested. If - and that was a big if - the plan her ex had just proposed was realistic, creating a whole new timescape like that would have direct implications for her. After all, the only reason she had become mortal in the first place was because Xander had been caught cheating on Cordelia. If that had never happened…then Anya knew she would have never even met the guy. Never would have lost her powers. Never would have fallen in love with him. Never would have gotten her heart broken by him. Never would have rediscovered all the joys of being human, that life as a demon automatically precluded.
Fred and Gunn stared at each other. The female physicist didn't know much about Cordelia's dating history in Sunnydale - but the black man certainly did, as evidenced by the talk he and Xander had shared in Cordelia's old room a while ago. Charles didn't know what surprised him more - the fact that his new friend was willing to entirely forego the happiness from a relationship that had ended so badly, or that he hadn't decided to make sure that the 'fluke' never took place instead.
Faith and Spike likewise sought out each other's eyes. They didn't know what effect Xander's plan would have on them, if he attempted to rewrite the history books all the way back to 1997 - but they were instinctively against the idea, as they were sure that Xander would screw it up somehow.
Buffy, however, noticed Willow quietly freaking out upon hearing Xander's words. "Will? Are you okay?"
"NO! I'm not okay!" Willow yelped, grabbing Harris by the arm in order to face her. "Xander, do you have any idea what it is you want me to do?"
"Well, obviously the answer's no. What else could you expect from a guy who almost married a freakin' demon?" the Beastmaster said cheerfully, even as Anya glared daggers at 'Cordelia' for that insult.
"Shut up, you," Buffy ordered 'Cordy' roughly. Then she turned to her pseudo-father figure. "Giles? Xander's plan. Is something like that a feasible option?"
"Well - it's, it's an extraordinarily dangerous one," Giles said, instinctively reaching to polish his glasses. "I-I-I mean, playing around with the timeline that way..."
"...is a plan of ultimate last resort. Because Cordelia's been a vital member of Angel's group, right from the beginning. She's played a pivotal role in events over the past four years; including one or two apocalypses," Wesley frowned.
"She's been more than 'vital', Wes. I wouldn't have made it this far, if not for her. Cordelia herself, I mean, and not a seer for the Powers," Angel remarked, sharing a look with Darla. Reminding her of their conversation a few hours ago, when they'd talked about the women in his un-life. Not to mention reminding Buffy of why she didn't like Cordelia all that much right now.
"I remember the night when Cordelia - the real one - told me she was half-demon. Then when I tried to stab her, she…she did that weird light show thing, after she grabbed my arm," Connor spoke up musingly. "I wouldn't be the person I am today, if not for her."
"Ditto. Don't like the sound of my never knowing Cordy if you go and change that, man," Gunn said to Xander with a shrug.
Gahhhh, sod this… Spike thought to himself grouchily; but before he could say anything, the Beastmaster burst out laughing.
"Oh, this is just too much! My God, how is it possible that out of all the so-called men around here, the dork is the only one who actually has a set of balls?" 'Cordelia' said, both sneeringly and challengingly. "Listen to you all! Oooh, 'what if' this, 'what if' that - some champions for the forces of light you are! If any of you ever actually manages to grow a pair, then I'm the Queen of England!"
"Be quiet, whatever the hell you are!" Buffy ordered. Then she turned her attention back to her red-haired best friend. "Willow?"
The redhead instantly shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, but that's not an option." She looked at Xander, "I'm really sorry, Xander, but it just isn't."
"You can't do it?" Faith finally spoke up, staring at Willow curiously.
Ignoring Xander's chagrined look, Willow shook her head silently. She knew that even though the End of Days was at hand, something like that was not the answer. Even putting aside all the dangers associated with altering history, to borrow a phrase - the cure might be worse than the disease, when she went all black-eyed badass again after tapping into so much dark magic to try to pull off a Marty McFly in the past.
"Aw, too bad. 'Cause I was actually shaking in my boots for a moment," the Beastmaster said laughingly. "Now, where were we before the doofus distracted us all with his pointless little plan?"
That grating self-satisfied smirk returned. "Oh, yeah! You people don't have any answers as for why all this is happening. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Looks to me like I'm the only one with the answer key for the big Final Exam, and you kids haven't even brought a book."
Buffy and Angel would never admit it, but even as she spoke those gloating words, they knew 'Cordelia' was right.
"Then how about we bring a few cheat sheets in to fill in the blanks?"
All eyes turned to the front doors at the sound of that broad Queens accent…
…where Whistler, Oz and Lindsey McDonald stood at the entrance to the hotel.
The shocked look on everyone's faces told the story better than words ever could.
"Whistler?" Buffy and Angel simultaneously blurted out, both warriors stunned at his appearance.
"Rat Breath. Slayer," the balance demon jovially greeted the pair. "The years have been good to you. Well, guess the years are always good for an immortal vamp, but still…lookin' good."
Willow's amazed green eyes rested on the form of her first and only boyfriend. "Oz?" she gasped, bewildered.
The twenty-something werewolf gave her a soft grin. "Hey, Willow," he greeted her, tenderly.
Angel's eyes were not so warm when he spotted the third man. "Lindsey," his icy voice whispered gratingly.
Lindsey offered the vampire a sardonic salute and a cocky smirk…
"Howdy, champ. How's it goin'?"
…which faded into a softer glance as his eyes found the one thing he'd driven all this way here for.
"Darla."
He croaked out her name as his eyes swept disbelievingly, reverently over the angelic, flawless features of the female face that haunted his dreams every night.
Darla's perfect, pinkish-red lips parted in surprise. "Lindsey?"
Off the way the former lawyer stared at the ex-vampire, Wesley's brow almost immediately furrowed into a scowl towards Lindsey. He was not sure of what was going on…and even less sure he liked it.
In hand, Whistler held a medium-sized black duffel bag. Seeing all the confusion directed towards him and his comrades, Whistler did what he did best during confusing and stress-filled moments…
"Okay, so…did anybody order an apocalypse?"
…make stupid jokes.
"Yeesh, you'd think somebody died in here," he grumbled in the face of the tough audience.
TBC…
A/N : Next chapter - Oz and Willow reunite, with Whistler bearing gifts…and warnings…for our heroes. And what will happen when Lindsey and Darla finally get up close and personal? (And what will Wesley think of that?) Meanwhile, Cordelia's soul still hangs in the balance, and to save it, Buffy and an unexpected traveling partner will have to risk their lives in a deadly ritual to save her.
You are curious, yeeessss?
Gotta run, and remember - friends don't let friends not leave feedback. Later!
Jean-theGuardian
