Class of '99 Reunion
Sometimes Cordelia liked to imagine that her parents were dead.
Not all the time. Most of the time she preferred not to think about them at act like she came into being without the pesky assistance of birth. A blessing unto Earth in all her Gucci glory. But every once in a while, she would delve into the fantasy; during that oh so long drive from Sunnydale to LA; while she lived in that cockroach-infested hovel before Dennis; the first and hundredth time she was rejected after an audition; the last night she spent in her childhood home, alone with a future turning into an ever expanding black void. And now, as she sat in the back of Angel's beloved convertible.
"How long do ya think it'll take us to get there?" asked Fred who sat between Cordelia and Gunn, the latter of which definitely taking up more than his share of the back seat.
"Well", Wesley began, not removing his eyes from the large book that had bedded into his lap, "If L.A traffic is kind to us, it should not take us more than two hours".
"Two hours? That still counts as a road trip right? My parents and I used to go on them all the time before, ya know", the whole Pylea thing, "But they usually lasted at least five hours. After all, it takes over ten just to drive across Texas. Not accountin' for bathroom breaks or refills. Both of the gas and food variety. Can we stop somewhere to get some snacks? You can't have a road trip without snacks", Fred declared, leaning forward so she could direct the request to Angel, their driver for the evening.
He did not reply to her. Did not so much as shift his gaze from the road ahead. No surprise there. Since Willow's call, Angel had initiated his emotional and social shutdown mode. They would be lucky if he they heard a grunt from him for the rest of the evening.
Cordelia was totally going to block Willow's number after this.
"Don't worry, I've got you covered", Cordelia interjected before the silence could become awkward. She had already spent some of the night consoling a crying Fred and was not particularly interested in a repeat.
She extracted her purse from behind her feet and handed it to Fred who quickly pulled out various packets of chips, crackers and chocolate bars from its deceptively large interior.
"Damn, Barbie" said Gunn as he picked up a Snickers bar that had fallen onto his lap, "leave any candy for the rest of the kids in L.A.?"
"There are some protein bars in there too", Cordelia replied with mock indignation.
"Yeah", replied Gunn, "covered in chocolate". He tossed one such confectionary onto Wesley's book who managed to open and eat the bar without pausing in his reading, .
They continued on their journey, driving a little over the speed limit. Then when they were no longer within city lines, a lot over the speed limit. If Angel did not have the fastest reflexes in their team, she would have smacked the back of his head for being so reckless.
Wesley must have been of the same mind because he said, "I understand how anxious you are to get there, but none of us will be of any use as pieces scattered across the road".
"Yeah man, street racing is a lot better when there are other cars to race with", Gunn added.
Fred, who did not seem to notice their speed, asked Cordelia, "How does it feel? Goin' back? Because I think it would feel kinda strange. Goin' back to Texas I mean. Not you, me. Because you've never been to Texas, I remember you tellin' me that. Is it a good strange, or a bad strange?"
Cordelia tried not to give her patented 'what is this crazy girl saying?' stare while she considered the question. During her almost three years in L.A, she had not once made an effort to return to Sunnydale. It was not exactly a place that held a lot of good memories for her. It might have once, but they were buried under mounds of disappointment, heartbreak and pain. And so much had happened since her days in highschool. She might not have accomplished her dream of becoming rich and famous, but Cordelia actually liked who she was now. It no longer felt like the universe was punishing her for being such a terrible person when she was growing up.
Returning to Sunnydale felt like her period of repentance was starting all over again.
But Cordelia could not say this, so she stated the obvious, "It feels like we're driving towards a hellmouth".
Fred gave her a sympathetic smile, "Yeah, my hometown can sure feel like that too".
Gunn, who was trying to hide the death grip he had on the handle of the car, said, "Still a lil' confused on why we're all going there".
"You didn't have to come, ya know", Cordelia pointed out, watching Fred munch on yet another bag of chips.
"Hey! I wasn't going to be the only girl that doesn't get to go to prom", which he would have been. There was no question of Cordelia's and Angel's need to be there and Wesley was the new Bossman so he got the play chaperone. Then, when Fred showed an interest in going, they could not very well say no since it was the first real sign that she was opening up to the world again. Thus, it seemed a matter of course that Gunn would tag along too, "Especially if over-pay is involved".
Wesley ignored the pointed comment and asked Cordelia, "Did Willow not give you any details?".
"All I managed to get out of her was that she needed me for the spell before someone turned all caveman and stole the phone, pulling out a couple of hairs I might add".
Said caveman did not react to the jibe. He increased the car's speed to overtake an innocent hatchback that was cruising in front of them. There was not a car on that road that he did not eventually overtake.
"Angel?" Wesley asked. It was difficult to research for any potential threats with only the cliff notes version of the latest catastrophe they would have to face. He was not in the loop on what kind of magic Willow was using lately so he could only begin to guess at what spell she was referring to.
For a moment, it looked like Angel was not going to reply again. And if it were a year ago, he probably would not have, but Cordelia had to give it to him, he was getting better at the whole communication thing, "Right now, all we need to know is that the spell Willow found calls for a seer". Not a lot better, but definitely better.
"Unfortunately, I am of the mind that we should learn a little more than that. Does the spell simply require a seer's presence, or does it require a seer to be sacrificed under a blood moon?" Wesley questioned.
"I second the need to know thing", Cordelia proclaimed, raising her hand like the student she used to be not too long ago.
Angel finally took his eyes off the road to look at her through his rearview mirror, "Spells like that are used in Dark Magic. Willow's smart enough not to touch that stuff".
Cordelia was not too sure about that. She had seen first hand the fevered desperation people had when it came to the Slayer. Who knows what Willow was willing to do to bring Buffy back.
2.
It ended up taking them a little over an hour. The wind had wreaked havoc on Cordelia's hair, but at least she was still in one piece considering the speed in which Angel drove. The large, tacky yellow sign welcomed them to Sunnydale as they entered her borders. Enjoy your stay. Since then, Cordelia had been blanketed by an unpleasant sensation she could not name. It was a similar feeling to the one that warned her of an impending vision but with far more dread mixed in (Cordelia's hand automatically patted her left front pocket, making sure her small emergency pack of painkillers were still in place).
Instead of heading to the Summer's residence, they were apparently instructed to go to a magic shop of all places. It was the new Scooby HQ after they lost the library which, despite popular belief, they never actually owned since it belonged to their old school. Cordelia had vague recollections of it though she swore the shop bore a different name. It had not sold clothing or accessories so she had not paid much attention to it when she lived in Sunnydale. She would not have remembered it at all if it was not located right next to the place Cordelia used to work in when her life changed channels to a riches-to-rags show.
"A magic shop", Wesley marvelled as Angel parked the car outside the building, "What a novel idea. Perhaps we should consider opening such a business for ourselves. It would certainly make gathering supplies much easier if we already had them".
Gunn hopped out of the car, stretching his arms up and out, he was not made for sitting in cramped conditions for extended periods of time, "Yeah, give us more work to do, English. As if we needed it".
Cordelia sighed as she watched Angel practically leap out of the driver's seat and sprint into the shop. In some respects, Cordelia admired how determined he could be. It saved her bacon more than a time or two. But it also made him block everything else out except for whatever new goal he was chasing. The last time he was like this, it nearly broke him. Nearly broke them.
Unlike her colleagues, Cordelia elected to open the car door and step out of the car. Though she did follow Gunn's example and stretched the stiff ache out of her body. Added a quick rub of the neck too. Ran her fingers through her hair to tame it back into submission. Perhaps she should throw a few glares at her old place of work while she was at it. The people in it were not exactly sympathetic to her despite it being her first ever job. They often acted as if she purposefully made mistakes.
Procrastination at its finest.
Fred did not move to leave the car. Her eyes flickered across the street eyeing anyone who passed. It was relatively late but there were still people travelling to and fro. Mostly in cars since travelling on foot at night was asking for a premature death in Sunnydale. Fingers pulled at the bottom of her shirt. Cordelia knew what that gnaw on Fred's lower lip meant, had seen it every time they had attempted to coax her out of her self-imposed isolation during Angel's absence. It told her that they might have overestimated Fred's ability to venture too far away from the familiar. That, despite all the progress they had made, Fred was dangerously close to finding the nearest wall to scribble her hieroglyphs. Naturally, the boys left Cordelia to deal with it. As if being a woman made her automatically know how to deal with Fred's brand of crazy.
Cordelia let out another sigh and picked up her purse (the one not full of junk food wrappers) and leaned into the car with her hand reached out to Fred, "Come on, you'll feel better inside".
Fred looked at her sceptically, her irrational nerves telling her to question her friend. When Cordelia's eyes did not waver, did not show any sign of judgement or scorn, Fred eventually took the outstretched hand, wondering how one no bigger than her own could feel so much stronger.
As they walked towards the Magic Box, Cordelia let go of Fred's hand only for it to grip the back of her shirt. It was a compromise that they both silently came to. It allowed Fred to feel anchored to something that made her feel safe while preventing Cordelia from feeling embarrassed by such an odd display.
And it anchored her too.
"So Buffy is dead then" came Wesley's incredulous voice from within the Magic Box. Its interior made for quite the interesting site. The store was the kind people might call cute in a messy sort of way. From floor to ceiling, the Magic Box was chalk full of stuff. Past the shelves of charms and potion ingredients (some of which Cordelia refused to look too closely at) stood Angel and Wesley facing off Xander and Willow.
"Quick on the uptake isn't he?" Xander remarked, clearly unimpressed with Wesley's question. And Angel's presence.
"I thought you had discovered that she was sent to another dimension or something" Wesley said, turning to Angel.
"I never said that's what happened" Angel stated "You just assumed it did and-"
"And you let me believe it. You cannot possibly think that I will go along with bringing someone back from the dead, it goes against everything we know about the natural order. We live, we die, the end".
Willow stepped in with "It doesn't go against the natural order if Buffy died through mystical means, which, ya know, she did. There was nothing 'natural' about that giant swirling vortex". She spoke with a level of exasperation that showed that this was not the first, second, third or fourth time that she had made this argument.
Fred tightened her grip on Cordelia's shirt, practically ripping it off her. Cordelia reached around to give Fred's other hand a comforting pat. Why did Willow have to go and start talking about vortexes? Next she'll drop other taboo phrases like 'portal' and 'Pylea'.
"She's right, Wes", Angel said.
"For the love of God man", replied Wesley tossing his hands in the air, "have you already forgotten what happened the last time someone from your past came back from the dead? I never would have agreed to us coming here if I had known this is what you meant".
"This is why we didn't tell our Englishman, why did you have to tell yours?" came a voice from the far left. Behind a counter that held the store's cash register stood Anya, looking as unimpressed as Xander. They were matching, how cute. Behind her was another woman with blonde hair (because the Scoobies had apparently decided to start collecting them) , though she appeared less brazen than the first. She seemed content to fade into the background while the adults argued.
Fred's clinging did not decrease. Cordelia might have been too hasty when she claimed that it would be better inside.
"Wait, who came back from the dead?" asked Xander.
Cordelia stuck both her pointer fingers into her mouth to give a brief but very loud, very high pitched whistle. Startled, everyone stopped talking and turned to look at her, including Gunn who was playing around with a fragile looking glass sculpture. His trained reflexes were the only reason he had not dropped it at the sound.
With their attention now on her, Cordelia pasted on the smile that most screamed 'annoyed bitch', "Hello everyone, it's great to see that absolutely nothing has changed, but I've been standing here for almost two whole minutes and not a single person has offered me any refreshments. Is this how you treat all your customers?"
"Cordelia, we're leaving" Wesley said before any of the others could react.
"We're staying", Angel said, staring Wesley down despite talking to Cordelia. He forced the words to squeeze out between his teeth, a sure sign that he was not entirely in control of the part of himself that only wanted to act on instinct and desire rather than reason and sense.
Cordelia took a couple of steps into the room, Fred right behind her, and said, "Well since I'm the star of the show, I say I call the shots, and my call is that I am not going back into that car after all the hassle it took to get here, so you guys might as well explain what's going on over a cup of coffee". At everyone's blank stare, Cordelia asked, "You do still have coffee right?"
That seemed to kick start the unknown blonde's cognitive functions as she quickly stammered out, "Y-yes of-course. How do you like it? Creamer? Sugar? ".
"It's good to see that at least one of you still has manners", Cordelia said.
Xander made a long 'ugh' sound as he tilted back his head, questioning the heavens, "Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be you?"
Cordelia could only give him a sardonic smile.
Later, after stilted introductions were made and Cordelia and Fred went to the store's bathroom to 'freshen up' -an excuse to give Fred a moment away from the others as she settled her nerves-, they were seated at the table sipping on freshly brewed coffee. Well, Cordelia was sipping, the rest were either waiting to start another argument or bracing themselves to witness one.
Cordelia took a discreet glance at Fred and Gunn over her warm mug. The table was not the largest and being shoulder to shoulder with so many tension addicted people was too much for the cave dweller, so she chose to stand off to the side. Gunn, with only one shared look with Cordelia, moved to stand next to her, leaning on the counter giving his best 'devil may care' expression. Supporting Fred without anyone being the wiser.
"It's a resurrection spell", Willow began from across Cordelia, "which invokes the power of Osiris. We already have his urn".
"Found it on ebay", Anya interjected from Willow's left.
"Go figure", Xander finished from Willow's right.
And the cute just kept on getting cuter.
"All we need", Willow continued ignoring them, "is a few more bits and pieces, some candles, the Vino de Madre and… and a seer".
Cordelia wondered whether she was one of the bits or one of the pieces.
"To do what exactly?" Wesley asked. He had gone full boss mode, fighting for the rights of one of his employees. Honestly she was relieved. Cordelia could not trust herself to view the situation without any biases. There was too much emotion swirling in the room, too many memories of heartache and pain. And hopefully Wesley will get the Scoobies to agree to Hazard Pay.
"According to what we've read, the final step of the ritual can only be revealed to a seer. Through a vision", Willow clarified.
Cordelia put down her mug, "Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I can't just decide to have a vision. It doesn't work like that. I only see what the PTB wants me to see".
"We know, that's why part of the spell involves forcibly triggering one".
Cordelia went very still, "You mean like hijacking my link to the Powers?"
Confused at Cordelia's choice of phrasing, Willow replied, "Well sure. You could see it that way I guess."
Cordelia leaned back in her chair and glanced at Angel to her left. He did not appear happy at the news. It was the first time since Willow's call that he slowed his headlong sprint. He may be the type of man(pire) to, when faced with a wall blocking his path, bash his large brow into it until the bricks crumbled out of his way, but he was not completely without sense. Or at least Cordelia hoped he wasn't. When it came to Buffy, the concept of calm became as foreign to him as cellular devices.
Speaking of which, if he forgot his again, she'd kill him.
"How exactly do you mean to do this?" asked Wesley, "we have some experience with people forcing visions upon Cordelia. It did not go well".
"Why? What happened?" Xander asked, out of morbid curiosity or genuine concern, it was impossible to tell.
"The artificial visions manifested physically upon Cordy's person. The wounds-"
Cordelia interrupted his explanation with "Can we not re-hash that train wreck of a week? Every time I remember those boils I wanna barf. Can I get a yuck?". She in no way wanted the Scoobies to know what it was really like. She did not want them to know about the fear she felt when the claw marks cut into her body. About how disgusted she felt with herself when she looked in the mirror and saw nothing but large pus filled boils covering one side of her face. Or that she now knew what her own burning flesh smelled like. She did not want them to know that because of her, her family had to kill three innocents who fought for the side of good. That they had let loose an unknown monster who could be killing even more people as they sat there having their debate. All because Cordelia couldn't stop being such a damn coward.
The side of Angel's foot pressed flush against her own. A small, hidden form of contact that she liked to think had not been an accident. She drew comfort from it regardless.
"I'm guessing bad guys were the ones who hacked your line, right?" Willow asked, "It won't be like that this time, because we're the good guys. We'd never hurt Cordelia".
Intentionally.
"Be that as it may, side effects are still a possibility, if not very likely, when playing around with such powerful forces. The visions are already taxing enough on her as it is without throwing untried magic into the mix" Wesley said.
"It's not untried!", proclaimed the woman Cordelia now knew as Tara, Willow's girlfriend (so much for keeping each other up to date on all the gossip). Since getting Cordelia and Wesley their coffee -the others had declined- she had stayed behind the counter and seemed content to allow the conversation to run without her. The fact that she felt the need to chip in now was interesting "I-I mean, we've never done a resurrection spell before, but Willow is a great wiccan. The best I've ever seen. You'll be in good hands, Cor-Cordelia".
With that, all the Scoobies looked at her and she could see the desperation that linked them all; even Anya to some extent. They wore their exhaustion as easily as Cordelia wore her favourite pair of sweats. Afterall, they had lost someone they had cared deeply for. Had gone from coming to terms with the fact that they would likely never see Buffy again, to suddenly being gifted a chance at getting her back. No matter how dangerous or miniscule the likelihood of success, they had to hold onto it and not let go. Even if it ripped the palms of their hands to shreds they had to keep hold. They had to. They were hopeless to do otherwise. And wasn't it her job to help the hopeless?
"Do you have everything? All your other little 'bits and pieces'?" Cordelia asked Willow.
"Almost. I still need to get the Vino de Madre".
"How long will that take?"
"Does that mean you'll do it?" Willow did not bother to hide her excitement.
"How long?" Cordelia asked again.
"No more than a day- an evening. I was planning on getting it tonight".
"The making of Vino de Madre is dark magic" Wesley noted, signs of acquiesce nowhere to be seen.
"That's why I'm planning on getting it from the black market. A quick in and out", turning back to Cordelia before Wesley could ask any follow ups, Willow said, "Please, Cordelia. I know that things weren't always… the best between us", you could say that again, "but Buffy would have done the same for you. We really need you on this".
Cordelia looked to Angel, needing someone to tell her what to do. On the one hand, she wanted to do her part in saving the day. And despite the animosity between her and Buffy, she had never, ever wanted anything to happen to her. Not even when she made that stupid wish in highschool. On the other hand, something about this was triggering every warning bell her mind possessed. It made a cacophony of alarm that told her that the consequences of the ritual may not be ones she could handle.
So she looked to Angel for answers. She already knew what Wesley's would be -a decisive no- and Gunn and Fred would not care either way as long as they were all safe. Though even if none of that were the case, she still would have looked to Angel, needing to know what he thought of this most of all. Except no answer was forthcoming. Angel refused to meet her eyes, instead staring at the table top in front of him. He knew she wanted to catch his eye and yet still he denied her.
Guess this all falls down on her shoulders.
Stifling her third sigh of the evening, Cordelia said, "Okay, this is what we're going to do. You go get this Vino de Whatever while the guys and I crash somewhere. We'll all meet up tomorrow night and I'll give you my answer then".
"Give us your answer tomorrow?!" Xander repeated, his outrage almost lifting him off of his seat, "What, you need to think about it? We're talking about Buffy's life here, not which outfit you're going to wear to your next party. So what if your last little vision screwed up your skin care routine-"
"Little vision?" Cordelia seethed.
"-is it really so hard for you to think about anyone but yourself?-"
"Xander", cautioned Willow.
Throwing himself further into his chair, he covered the building stress on his face with his hands, "Seriously, why of all people did it have to be you?".
Cordelia shot up from her chair, both hands planted on the table and leaned in as far as she could, "I don't know, Xander, why does it have to be me? It's not like I'm the only seer on the planet. Why don't you go see if one of them is willing to sacrifice themselves at Buffy's altar".
Xander stood up too, ready to come in with his own punch for this boxing match. That was until Angel stood right after him, "Is the mansion still there?"
"Wha-What?" Xander asked, bewildered. All the fight petered out of him.
"On Crawford street", Angel clarified, "is it still there?"
"Well, yeah, it's not like it grew legs and walked off while you were away".
Angel made sure his expression showed how much of an idiot he thought Xander was. When it came to Sunnydale, it was foolish to assume that anything you left there was safe. He turned to Codelia, "Then let's go".
"Go?" Cordelia asked. Even she was finding it difficult to keep up with Angel's train of thought.
"To the mansion. You're tired right? We can finish this discussion tomorrow"
Oh, so that's it. Angel figured that Cordelia was on the cusp of calling the entire spell off just to spite Xander, so he was cutting the conversation off before she could. She was so insulted by the assumption that she almost wanted to prove him right.
Instead she said, "Yeah, you're right, I am tired. After all, only earlier this night, we were all running around L.A. trying to deal with a whole geriatric Freaky Friday situation. Because, and this might come as a shock to you all since we literally dropped everything to drive over here breaking every road law on the way, we do have lives that don't revolve around you and your beloved Slayer", before quickly leaving the Magic Box, barely missing Angel with her purse as she swung around.
Cordelia immediately felt better when she stepped outside and heard the front door close behind her. She had no idea she was suffocating in that room until she was finally breathing fresh air. It only took three deep breaths for the anger to turn into just another memory. In its place came guilt. She should never have spoken about Buffy like that. Not to them. Not in front of him. Cordelia should have gotten used to it by now, the devotion they had for Buffy. It was not like it was the first time she took second place in their world (who was she kidding? Fifth place was more accurate). This town really brought out the worst in her.
Hands on her hips, Cordelia blinked back the tears that she refused to let free. They were the byproduct of rapid increases and decreases of emotion. Nothing more. Soon, they would go to that mausoleum Angel once called home where she would take a couple of pills -or three with how much her persistent migraine was building- and everything would be better come morning.
The door behind her opened and shut. Since her eyes were still not quite dry enough, Cordelia did not turn to see who it was that followed her. "Where's everyone else?" Thankfully her voice did not waver.
"Still inside", came a muttered voice. So it was Fred then.
Cordelia's guilt only grew. She should not have left Fred in there like that. The poor woman was probably having a meltdown with all the negative energy bouncing around that room "Sorry-Sorry about all that arguing." she waved a flippant hand in the air "Pretty shitty road trip huh?"
Fred moved forward to stand next to Cordelia. The pair enjoyed the cooling breeze as they watched a Mom & Pop restaurant across the street close up for th night, "It ain't so bad. I haven't thrown up in anyone's hat yet so I can say I've had worse" her smile was genuine. Strong. Perhaps they had not overestimated Fred's ability to be in the outside world after all. Something good had to come out of this freak show.
After another moment of silent waiting, Cordelia said, "What the hells taking them so-" as she was turning back to the magic shop she stopped midway, catching sight of something she could not believe. "Is that-is that Spike?"
Sauntering down the street, leather jacket billowing behind him like one of those cheap capes kids buy for Halloween, was most definitely Spike. His fluorescent, bleached to infinity hair made Cordelia squint against its tacky glare. In a single, fluid motion, Cordelia pulled Fred to stand behind her with one hand and extracted the stake attached to her belt loop with the other. When she had duct taped it to her side in the Hyperion, she had almost taken it right back off again when Gunn made fun of her for it. He had accused her of being paranoid; 'How dangerous can a town called Sunnydale be?'. The stake looked less than threatening with pieces of duct tape hanging off it but she was never so happy to have followed her instincts.
Spike, upon reaching them, said, "Well if it isn't head Cheer-Bitch. Fancy seein' you back in our quaint lil' hellmouth. Is there a Class of '99 reunion nobody told me about?"
"Stay where you are, Spike", warned Cordelia, "I'm a lot handier with this than I was the last time you saw me". She lifted the stake higher to prove her point, ignoring the tape.
"Whoa there, love, didn't you get the memo, I'm-"
The only warning they got was the crash of the shop's door banging open before a large dark blur barrelled into Spike. When Angel wanted to move fast, he could move fast. By the time he slowed enough for Cordelia's eyes to catch up, Angel had Spike lying prone on the sidewalk with his hand to Spike's throat. Both vampires had their game faces on, "What do you think you're doing here, Spike?"
Not to be outdone, Spike brought up his leg and gave Angel one good kick, effectively dislodging the two, "Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing," he stood, fixing his coat, "Who the fuck let Captain forehead back in town?".
Angel was back on his feet by the time the rest of the Magic Box's occupants made it outside. Wesley quickly came to stand next to Cordelia, helping to block Fred from the fight. He was holding up a book she did not recognise -likely one detailing the resurrection spell- like a shield. Gunn on the other hand, joined Angel with one of his favourite axes up and on the ready. So much for Cordelia being paranoid (where was he keeping that this whole time?). "What's up with this crazy town, man?"
"You girls alright?" Wesley asked. He was looking at Fred but Cordelia replied in the affirmative that they were.
"Hey, hey, hey!", Xander jumped in, "As much as I would love to watch you two rip each other to shreds, and believe me, I would love that, but no vamp fights on the street".
"Besides, we're all on the same side", said Willow from the shop's entrance.
"We are?" asked Cordelia.
"I might have forgotten to mention", Willow said bashfully, "Spike's one of the good guys now", at Xander's pointed look, "sorta" she amended.
Letting his human face melt back into place, Spike said, "I take great offence to that, Red".
Angel, however, neither changed his face nor took his eyes off of Spike, "Do one of you mind telling me what the hell is going on?
"You want the long version or the short version" Spike asked.
"Short".
"Chip. Brain. Bye-bye fun", Spike said flippantly.
"What?"
"The military implanted a chip in his brain so now he cannot physically harm humans" Anya clarified.
"Like at all?" Gunn asked.
"Like, yeah", mocked Spike, "Now do you mind telling me what Forehead and his merry men are doing here? Not that I haven't missed you, Pops, but this isn't exactly your turf".
Cordelia had to resist the urge to rub her temple. This constant ebb and flow of chaos was doing wonders for her headache. "As much as we would love to catch up, we were actually just about to leave so you can save your questions for your new best friends". She looked to Wesley for backup.
"Indeed, it has been a long day. A night's sleep will do us good. Right Angel?".
Angel considered Wesley for a second, likely wanting to refute his claim. Nothing about the way he stood said he wanted to leave any time soon. But then he looked to Cordelia and eventually nodded his head "We can pick this up tomorrow".
Willow drew nearer to Cordelia, "You're not leaving, leaving, right?" It was odd for someone from Sunnydale to be so upset at her departure. Like seeing a demon going grocery shopping or visiting a hairdresser to remove a bad perm (she told him it wouldn't suit him). At one point, Cordelia might have welcomed the sight, but now she could only focus on the fact that it took them needing her for it to happen.
"No. I said that we'll talk more about it tomorrow and we will".
Willow's smile was so full of hope Cordelia almost agreed to the ritual right then and there. "Alright. Great! When I've got the Vino de Madre I'll call you".
"Sounds good. And while you're at it, maybe brush up on your gossiping skills", Cordelia said, indicating to Spike, then quietly added, "and your lying skills too".
...
So, what do you think?