by Warduke » Wed Jun 13, 2001 5:41 pm
by Ginner » Wed Jun 13, 2001 7:46 pm
Can't wait for then next part,i bet that'll be uh, wow too 
by Rane » Wed Jun 13, 2001 8:31 pm
this rocks!!!!! cannot wait, but i guess i'll have to huh? luv ya, fell!by Arwen » Wed Jun 20, 2001 6:44 pm
------------------
"Back off, polygrip. You think you're bad?
All mean and haunty and picking on poor
pathetic Cordy? Well get ready to haul your
wrinkly translucent ass out of this place,
'cause lady, the bitch is back."
Cordelia - "Room w/a Vu"
by Rane » Wed Jun 20, 2001 6:46 pm
by Arwen » Thu Jun 21, 2001 7:44 pm
quote:
Originally posted by Rane:
hehe... fell's been naughty. chilling out on her porch, drinking, fanning the heat away...
I guess I can't grumble then.....(hiding my grumbles behind my hand) I could offer an air conditioner though! *g*
------------------
"Back off, polygrip. You think you're bad?
All mean and haunty and picking on poor
pathetic Cordy? Well get ready to haul your
wrinkly translucent ass out of this place,
'cause lady, the bitch is back."
Cordelia - "Room w/a Vu"
by moegirl1 » Fri Dec 28, 2001 12:07 pm
by LeatherQueen » Fri Dec 28, 2001 2:05 pm
------------------
"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory
by fell » Sat Dec 29, 2001 6:20 am
My apologies for the confusion. Here's what happened: This fic was continued a few days later, but in a new thread. Something didn't feel quite right in the way i'd written the Willow/Faith interaction so i decided to change it. Before posting the next section, i went back and re-wrote some of section 4.
Above is the rewritten section 4 and the next part is posted below. I have 22 more pages written which i will repost over the next day or so, as soon as i give them a quick once-over for continuity.
This fic, however, is not quite complete because over time my feelings about the direction of the story changed and i decided i needed a different ending than the one i had planned. Meanwhile, i got busy with other projects.
My plan was to finish this fic and post it at Extra Flamey. However, if anyone is just dying to find out how it all turns out, (i know i am) i'll continue the story and post it here in pieces, in the usual fashion.
[This message has been edited by fell (edited December 29, 2001).]
by 'lucy' moore » Sat Dec 29, 2001 6:43 am
------------------
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
by fell » Sat Dec 29, 2001 10:54 am
Part Five. Wherein Angelus continues his wild walkabout and Faith suffers some serious angst.
* * * *
Angelus found the keys right where Billy had dropped them. The crime scene was deserted except for a couple cops in a patrol car parked behind the Lexus, waiting for a tow truck and the coroner. He slid Billy's corpse off his shoulder and dropped him on the picnic table. "Now don't you be going anywhere, Billy-me-boy. I'm feeling a bit peckish."
He appeared silently at the side of the police car and leaned in the window. "Hey, how ya doin'?"
The startled cop gasped, dropping a ketchup-laden french-fry on his blue serge shirt. "What the hell do you want?"
"I'm lookin' for a bite to eat."
"Dunkin Donuts two blocks down. Now move along."
"Actually, I'm in the mood for takeout." The cop looked at him strangely.
"Sorry, lame joke, couldn't resist." Without warning he dragged the cop halfway out the car window and tore into his throat with his fangs. His partner tried desperately to pull him back in, bellowing with outrage as they played tug-of-war with his partner's corpse. When Angelus disappeared into the bushes he scrambled out of the car to follow. He actually managed to get one round off before his neck was snapped, though he missed his target. The stray bullet took off the top of Billy's right ear and lodged in his brain. Needless to say, being even deader than the vampire who'd killed him, he didn't feel a thing.
"I got plans for you, Billyboy, but hauling you around like a sack of spuds ain't part of it.” Angelus said, dumping Billy's battered body into the trunk of the Lexus. “Now that I'm feeling like my old self again, I'd like to introduce you to some friends of mine."
* * * *
The shaking had stopped and Faith heaved the couch to the side. The metal frame of the chandelier landed with a crash and rolled noisily across the floor. "Is everyone alright?"
Gunn, coughing and wearing the same gray coating of plaster dust as everyone else, waved a hand and slowly stood. It was difficult to breath through the clouds of dust.
“Damn, girl!” He raised his eyebrows at the young Slayer, impressed, then tugged on Wesley's arm to help him up. He remained curled in a ball on the floor, his hands clutched over his head.
Tara raised herself on one arm and whispered hoarsely:
"Tropo, Strato, Aero, Exo,
Elements are brought to bear.
Earth and Fire, spread upon the Waters,
Let the air be cleansed."
With a sweep of her arm a cool breeze swept through the room, precipitating the dust and immediately clearing the air. Willow moaned weakly and tried to rise, then collapsed on her side. Tara pulled her onto her lap and wiped the dust from her face. "Honey, are you okay?"
Gunn looked at Tara. "How'd you do that?" but she was too concerned with Willow to answer. He turned his attention back to Wesley. "Yo, Wes, it's over. You can come out now."
"She seems to be getting weaker." Tara looked up at the others, worried. "She must have been trying to do some kind of protection spell. We have to do something." Her tone was desperate, but no one knew what to do.
Wesley finally raised his head and looked around. Everyone but Faith seemed shaken by their near brush with death. The lights in the office were still on and everything seemed quiet. He let Gunn help him to his feet then lunged forward to wrap Faith in a smothering hug. “We owe you our lives,” he bleated, his voice breaking with emotion.
She held her arms out, clearly uncomfortable but resisting the impulse to shove him away, them squirmed out of the embrace. “Uh, yeah, whatever.” She shuddered at a sudden memory of her former Watcher screaming as she'd sliced into his shoulder with a shard of glass. She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut against the memory.
Wesley looked nervously at the ceiling. "If everyone is intact, perhaps we should move outside until we're sure the building is safe. There may be aftershocks."
Willow swayed on her feet and clutched at Tara. "Sweetie, can you walk?"
Faith held her hands out, and with a nod from Tara she scooped the unsteady girl up in her arms and strode out into the garden. She avoided looking down, afraid of what she might see in Willow’s eyes.
Outside in the garden they sank wearily onto stone benches, feeling stunned. Faith gently laid Willow down with her head on Tara's lap, then took off her coat and spread it over her. Underneath she wore a faded blue denim prison shirt with a number stenciled above the left pocket. Tara took hold of the young slayer’s arm. “Um, Faith? What you did in there? That was really...brave.”
Faith met her eyes for a moment, then, embarrassed by the sincerity she saw there, shrugged and turned away. “Hey, no sweat. It’s my job.”
Wesley sank down onto a bench opposite the girls, still shaking in reaction to his first major earthquake.
Gunn smacked a fist into his palm. Wesley whooped and jumped to his feet, then sank back down onto the bench sheepishly. "Oh, sorry Wes, but I almost forgot about Fred. Why don't y'all just chill here and I'll go check on her."
"I'll come with," Faith volunteered.
"Wait!" Everyone turned to her as Tara spoke up. "Listen." They all looked at her expectantly but she just sat there with her head cocked to the side.
Gunn snapped his fingers. "Damn, you're right."
"What?" Wesley glanced around warily, anticipating the next disaster.
Gunn nodded at the quiet West Hollywood street. "You grow up in LA you kinda get used to it, the earthquake thing. There should be, like, car alarms, sirens." The neighborhood was completely still. "It’s too quiet.”
"You're saying this wasn't a natural occurrence."
"Not even a little bit."
Faith turned and headed for the doors, Gunn following her inside. "We need to find out what's going on here."
She paused at the top of the stairs to look down into the darkened lobby. "This place looks like some kind of old movie set. Sort of creeps me out."
"You should have seen it before we got rid of the Thesulac Demon. Nasty bugger, all bad vibes and tentacles." He shuddered. "I'll look in on Fred while you take a look around, check for damage, or..."
"Yeah, I know. Creature features."
All the damage seemed to be confined to the center of the room where the chandelier and parts of the plaster ceiling had come down right on top of them. The rest of the room was almost completely undamaged. Two more identical ceiling fixtures at the far ends of the lobby hung undisturbed. As she looked around the mezzanine she saw that, aside from the layer of plaster dust, there was almost no sign of what had felt like a 6.0 earthquake downstairs. ‘Either this place is built like a brick shithouse or we’ve got some deeply weird weirdness going down here. This is way beyond coincidence, like all those so-called “accidents” that kept happening the last few months in jail.’
Being in prison sucked. It was boring, demeaning and brutal but in a strange way it made things easier. The senseless sameness of everything, they unvarying routine, removed the distraction of living in the world and let her focus on herself. Of course, being virtually invulnerable helped. It didn't take long for word to get around that messing with her could be very bad for your health.
She began studying the books Angel brought her. That had been hard, too, stopping every other sentence to refer to a dictionary. But she'd kept at it, even getting some unexpected help from a sweet old ex-minister whose Doctorate of Divinity degree hadn't stopped her from poisoning two husbands.
Besides the reading, she'd spent a lot of time thinking about the lessons her Watcher, Sister Theresa, had tried so hard to teach her. Lessons about the hidden talents that were as much a part of a slayer's legacy as superhuman strength and speed. She'd been a lousy student, though, too impatient to wrestle with the impenetrable jargon and flowery language of the compendiums and histories in her Watcher's library. She liked the fighting part, though; her Watcher had some pretty cool moves for a nun.
After her workouts she'd buy Faith dinner and talk nonstop while she ate. Some of it had sunk in, but what was the point? Why learn all that stuff if the Watcher already knew it? She'd never imagined being without her. Without her Watcher what was she? Just a kid, a messed up kid with no idea of what to do or how to go on. Alone.
‘Why, Terry? Why didn't you stop me? We never should of gone in there. I was so stupid, rushing in like that, thinking I could take him. Then watching while he- seeing what happened... Damn! Damn damn damn damn damn!’ She gripped the balcony railing so hard the polished oak began to creak and splinter. Her breathing became ragged and shallow as the memories rose up out of the darkness. ‘And then that fucking bastard Kakistos, dogging my ass for weeks, chasing me all over the country, running, hiding, no food, no sleep, fighting for my life. How many times did I wake up sweating over some sound in the dark, afraid that he'd found me? Afraid, and hoping that it was over.’
She paced rapidly back and forth in the hallway, now fully in the grip of those terrible, painful events. No matter how she tried to suppress the memory, she couldn't stop from seeing it in her dreams, night after night. Seeing the woman she loved horribly murdered by a monster she couldn't fight. By the time she got to Sunnyvale, she had completely shut down, emotionally. Nothing got in, nothing got out. If she'd learned one thing from Theresa it was that caring got you hurt. Like losing someone you love; it leaves you with a pain that never goes away. You just have to live with it. Or not. Losing everyone you ever loved, everything i ever cared about... once, okay, i can deal. I'm still standing. But twice? You make a hole that big in someone, you take that much away, there's just nothing left.'
That left a girl with two options: death or distraction. And there was no better drug to numb the pain than full-tilt violence and mayhem. She learned to take real pleasure in dancing on the edge of the precipice, flirting with death. On some level she knew her life had become a kamikaze mission, and she didn’t cared. Death could be a powerful ally, if you didn’t care about dying. Even the undead feared death. But she didn’t. Not any more...not since that night.
It was still impossible to think about what happened to Theresa. She'd never been able to talk to anyone about it. Except Buffy. ‘Buffy. God, if only I hadn't been such a stone cold bitch. You even talked your Mom into offering me a room and instead I insisted on staying in that fleabag motel. I wanted- I needed you to understand. I needed you. And I hated you for making me feel.’ She pounded her hand on the railing as a sob escaped her lips, then another. She tipped her head back, biting her lip, eyes squeezed shut as the tears leaked out.
She remembered how it was when she and Buffy were hunting together, sharing a purpose, an instinct. It was like having a sister, a twin almost. She remembered the unspoken communication, the way they would move together like a dancer and her reflection, every motion synchronized, flawless, deadly, invincible. And she remembered when she started feeling more than one ever would for a sister. Thought of Tara and Willow crossed her mind, and for a second she felt a heart-deep stab of jealousy at what they shared.
‘You were the best, B., like my missing half. Together we were perfect. Face it, girl: you had it bad, and you got scared. That’s when it all went to hell, wasn’t it? You could never understand, B. You, with all your perfect friends, your perfect family, your perfect life, to lose the only one you ever had, the only one that mattered. You could never understand. No one could stand it, getting hurt like that again. I don't know how I survived the first time. Maybe I didn’t. Not really. Maybe I died that night when I- when Terry did, and everything since is just what flashes behind your eyes in that second between the blow that kills you and the realization that you’re already dead.’
‘When I got to Sunnydale it was like I was in a dream, where none of it ever happened. Whatever I was doing, it wasn’t living. Part of me died when I lost her, and from then on I was just spinning my wheels, waiting for the rest of me to catch up. And you didn’t disappoint, girlfriend. When the time came you were there for me. You did your level best. It isn’t your fault I didn’t die. And now you're gone. Who would ever have thought you'd check out before me? God must really hate my guts, you know?
Down the hallway Gunn stepped out of a room, closing the door softly behind him. She kept her back to him as he approached, not wanting him to see her face. "She’s sleeping like a baby. I don't see any point in waking her up, since everything looks okay up here."
"Look, I'm going to check around the other side." Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. She headed toward the shadows at the end of the hall then stopped. She still didn't turn around. She wasn't about to let any guy see her crying.
"Downstairs it looks like a bomb went off, and up here, nothing. Maybe the floor's just weak down there or something." He didn't sound like he believed it.
"Yeah, or something."
"Well, I'm going to tell them it's safe to come back inside. They're all just about asleep on their feet."
"Yeah. I'll patrol. I mean, I'll just check things out."
He noted the huskiness of her voice, the way she kept her face averted. "You sure you're okay?"
"Five by five." As she moved down the dimly lit hallway, she could feel a sort of heaviness in the air. It felt like a tugging at her insides, like when a vampire was near, only not quite. It was the feeling of powerful magical forces at work, that much was for sure. ‘It could just be that spell that Willow did earlier, but there's something...’
She headed toward the other wing of the building, not sure what she was looking for. She didn't want to admit it, but she was scared. ‘Now I'm just being paranoid. Angel's got plenty of real enemies, like that pack of lawyers that hired me to kill him. I don't need to go blaming all this on my bad luck. Or karma. Whatever.’
She looked up and down the long, deserted hallway. Apparently this wing wasn't used at all. "Damn, it's quiet in here. Too quiet."
From the garden outside there sounded a piercing shriek of absolute terror.
* * * *
End Part Five
by 'lucy' moore » Sat Dec 29, 2001 11:34 am
------------------
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
by fell » Sat Dec 29, 2001 12:53 pm
He slammed the transmission into second gear, not bothering with the clutch, and headed east. Vampire strength and reaction times more than made up for his lack of experience with standard transmissions.
A few blocks ahead a pair of patrol cars, their lights flashing, blocked the road. “Well, well, what have we here...” He roared down the street straight at them, at the last second swerving the car across the curb and onto the sidewalk, sending an LA Times box crashing through the window of a TCBY shop. One of the cops tried to back his car up but Angelus rammed the Lexus into the rear of the Caprice, ripping off its bumper and ramming it back into the road. The two cops emptied their pistols at him as he sped off but all they managed to do was put four more copper jacketed slugs into Billy Tobin’s bruised and battered corpse bouncing heavily in the Lexus' trunk.
A few blocks later Angelus tore around a corner and pulled the car into a 24 hour Thrifty gas station, side-swiping the cashier’s booth. The white-turbaned Sikh attendant gaped at him in astonishment as he stuck a running hose in through the Lexus’ window and hauled the body out of the trunk. “Almost there, Billy. You’re gonna love this. First a little puzzle for you to solve, just to make sure you’re worthy of the honor.” He tossed Billy’s lighter into the car and jumped back as a huge yellow fireball erupted with a loud WHUMP, blowing out all the car’s windows. “Oh, yeah! I just love a good bonfire. Nothing brings out a crowd like a fire.”
The station attendant ran into the street, beating at the embers in his beard and crying, "All men dead! All men dead!"
Down the block and across the street Angelus kicked in the door of an apartment building and rode the elevator to the 5th floor, all the while singing a drinking song no one had heard in over 150 years to the corpse he carried over his shoulder.
"My Thunder, no fear on’t, shall soon do it's Errand,
“and, dam'me! I'll swing the Ringleaders, I warrant,”
At the top of the stairs to the roof he opened the steel fire door and dumped the body onto the graveled surface. Down the street the sounds of explosions and breaking glass accompanied the lurid orange light reflecting off the buildings. “You see, Billy, we can’t just be letting any old rabble into the club. First ye must be provin' yer worth.” He stuck a card in Billy’s open mouth then forced his jaw closed. “Sleep tight, boyo, and don’t let she sunshine bite.” He broke the outside doorknob off and tossed it out onto the roof. The door locked itself behind him with a soft ‘click’ as he sang his way down the stairs, tunelessly bellowing out the end of the verse:
"I'll trim the young dogs, for daring to twine
"The Myrtle of Venus with Baccus’s Vine.”
Down on the third floor Angelus knocked on the door of apartment C. A few minutes later the door swung open. “Angel, what are you doing here at this hour?” Her voice was barely a whisper, husky with sleep.
“Katy, me darling! I thought it was time we got a bit better acquainted.”
* * * *
Willow had finally found the energy to sit up. She leaned against her lover's shoulder, her eyes closed. A drop of blood trailed from her nose.
Wesley frowned at her, worried. "Do you think she'll be alright?" he asked.
"I-I think so. She needs to get some sleep. I hope it's safe...to can go back inside, I mean." Tara realized that Willow might not be his only concern.
"You're worried about her. About Faith I mean." Tara could tell by his expression that her guess was on the mark. "You think she might still be, like, dangerous?"
"I don't know. She's certainly changed. It's as if she's aged a decade in a year. The problem is- has always been, I suppose, I don't understand what's going on inside her head. She’s always been impulsive, unpredictable."
"She’s definitely different from last year. Saner. But she's still so full of pain. It's like she doesn't know what to do with it, where to go with it."
Gunn came back out into the garden. "Everything inside looks copacetic; Faith is still checking upstairs, but I think it's safe to go back in." He bent to feel Willow's forehead. "How's she doin'?"
Willow's eyes fluttered and opened slightly. She gave him a weak grin and he smiled back. "You had enough excitement for one night, Red? Balls o' fire, earthquakes. What's next, rain of frogs?"
"Toads..." Wesley corrected him. "Rain of toads, I believe, is the traditional..."
His voice died away as Willow suddenly sat bolt upright, her eyes in a fixed stare and her face expressionless.
Gunn backed away until the bench opposite caught him behind the knees and he sat down, hard, next to Wesley. "Oh, shit," he mouthed silently as the witch's eyes glazed black.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?”
Willow didn’t reply, just stared straight ahead, her lips moving silently.
Wesley leaned close to look at her, then gasped as he, too, saw that her eyes had gone completely black. "Willow? What are you-"
R-R-RUBBIK!
He was interrupted by a loud croak from the bushes.
R-RIBBIT! Another sounded. Then another.
Tara yelped as a big, green bullfrog landed with a SPLAT on the bench right next to her. R-RIB- she swept her hand at it and it leapt away. There was a pattering sound like raindrops falling in the bushes around them, accompanied by assorted croaking and cheeping noises, then frogs of all sorts and sizes, from tiny spring peepers to giant Texas bullfrogs, began to fall from the sky. They all leapt to their feet as dozens, then hundreds of the hopping, croaking, slimy creatures rained down in an appalling, horrifying deluge.
Tara grabbed Willow's arm and tried to pull her up, but she was completely rigid. A green tree frog landed on Willow's head, then a fat bullfrog landed in her lap and sprang up at her face, snapping her out of her trance in time to snatch the frog right out of the air. She stared at it just long enough to gasp in terror then let out an ear-piercing shriek that was somehow magickly enhanced to the decibel level of a jet engine. The frog she held burst like a stomped-on grape and the windows in the facing wall exploded in a glittering storm. Light fixtures and floodlights popped like flashbulbs, plunging the garden into darkness. Shards of stucco spalled from the walls and ricocheted about like shrapnel.
Finally Willow ran out of breath and the deafening scream ended. She leapt to her feet and yelled, “Discede!” throwing her arms wide. Everything within a radius of ten feet instantly became airborne as it was blasted away from her. A barrage of frogs splattered against the garden walls like buckshot. Tara, Gunn and Wesley were thrown backwards into the flattened bushes along with the hordes of suddenly-silent amphibians.
Faith burst out of the front doors and into the garden as a few frogs timidly resumed their chorus, leaping forward to catch Willow as she collapsed. The others scrambled out of the bushes, frantically brushing off the tiny peepers and sucker-toed tree frogs clinging to their clothes and hair. Tara and Gunn were okay, but Wesley staggered drunkenly, his hands clutching his head in pain. He had been right in front of Willow when she screamed.
Faith again scooped up the insensible witch and they all rushed back inside to escape the mob of frogs. In the office Faith laid Willow on the couch. Tara knelt next to her, wiping bits of frog innards off Willow’s hands and face as she mumbled, tossing her head from side to side as if lost in some disturbing nightmare. The powerful magicks she had invoked had drained her energy to a dangerous degree.
Gunn led Wesley to a chair. "I think we’re all pretty clear on who’s working all this mojo,” he whispered. “What I want to know is, why? It don’t seem like she’s doing it on purpose.”
“I THINK WE NEED TO DISCOVER-” Wesley shouted.
“Sh-h!” Gunn held a finger to his lips then reached to pluck a small green tree frog from Wesley’s collar. He added it to the one in his pocket.
“Sorry, sorry. My ears are still ringing. Though I must say, that was one of the most impressive displays of magickal...”
Gunn put his hand over Wesley’s mouth and dragged him away from the office, then motioned for Faith and Tara to join them. “Don’t even think it. We’re in some serious trouble here. The redhead is...”
“Willow,” Tara broke in. “She’s W-Willow and she would never hurt anyone, not on purpose. And especially not with magick.” She looked over at her love, pain and worry plain in her eyes. “Besides, this is hurting her more than anyone.”
Wesley smiled slightly, reassuring. “Of course. I think this is another attack on Angel, possibly at the instigation of Wolfram and Hart. Willow’s being used or manipulated somehow. Have you any ideas about how to stop it? A warding spell perhaps?”
“Um, maybe. I mean, yes. I think so. Do you have herbs? Valerian root, skullcap, chamomile?”
Wesley nodded. “Of course, anything you need. You're looking to concoct a sleeping draught?”
“If she stays asleep, and I cast a protection spell around the room, that should make it impossible for anyone outside to influence her.”
“I can brew some tea up straight away, though you'll have to do the incantation.”
“Thanks. Faith, could you help me get her upstairs?”
“Lead the way.” The Slayer gently gathered Willow in her arms and followed Tara to their room.
Wesley watched them go, captivated by the sway of Tara’s hips as she ascended the stairs. He swallowed with difficulty. “My word...” he whispered, unaware that his mouth was hanging open.
Gunn poked him, chuckling, “Yo, Wes. Give it up. I don’t see her switching sides anytime soon.”
“No! No, of course not. I didn’t mean...it’s just, there’s something about her. She has that classic sort of beauty, like a film noir actress from the 1940’s. Like Ingrid Bergman perhaps, or Lauren Bacall, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yep, that Willow’s one lucky gal.”
Wesley nattered on as if he hadn’t heard. “There’s a certain ethereal quality about her, both innocent and seductive at the same time. It’s the eyes, I think. Or the mouth, yes, definitely her mouth. Those lips are quite, ah...or maybe it’s the voice.”
“Damn, English. Trust you lose it over a gay chick.”
He did a double take and looked at Gunn, completely flustered. “Me? Why, I...I just got a bit carried away, that’s all.”
“Yeah, so I noticed. Look, shouldn’t you be getting busy with that tea?”
“Oh yes, I...” He looked up as Faith came racing down the stairs, then sagged with exhaustion. “Oh dear lord, what is it now?”
“Why didn’t someone tell me that Angel just found out about Buffy?” Her dark eyes were filled with worry. “Tara said they just got here today. Well, yesterday, whatever. Just before you came to see me. Did anyone talk to him since he took off?” The two men looked at each other and shrugged.
“Jeez, guys, don’t you get it?” They answered her with blank stares. “Men,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“You think Angel's the cause of all this?” Wesley sounded skeptical.
“No, I’m worried about what he might do to himself.” She paced nervously back and forth, biting her lip, then spun to face them. “You can’t imagine what it does to you, losing the one person you can’t afford to lose. Nothing makes sense anymore, inside or out. It can turn you into someone you don’t even recognize.”
Gunn winced at the memory of his sister, killed by vampires right around the time he’d met these people. “I know a little about that. You got any idea how to find him?”
“You’ve got wheels, right?” she asked.
“My truck is right outside.”
“Let’s go. Wesley, you should get that tea up to Tara.”
“Yes, of course. Is there anything else I can do?”
She shrugged. “You might as well get some rest. You might want to sleep with a stake under your pillow, though.”
* * * *
End Part 6
Next: Reunion.
Someone gets what they've got coming.
[This message has been edited by fell (edited December 30, 2001).]
by 'lucy' moore » Sat Dec 29, 2001 1:38 pm
------------------
fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
by fell » Sat Dec 29, 2001 2:03 pm
***
Gunn ducked into the office and grabbed the tranquilizer rifle then led Faith around the corner to where his truck was parked. “I hope you ain’t counting on me to lead you to Angel. Dude could be anywhere.”
She stopped at the corner and pulled a length of thread from her pocket. A small twig with a tiny green leaf at one end and a button tied to the other hung from it. “Demon compass, according to Tara.”
“Lemme guess. That button from one of Angel’s shirts?”
She just nodded and held the thread up as the twig spun slowly, then stopped, pointing southeast, towards central LA. “When we get close I’ll be able to sense him.”
“Huh. So tell me something: how’d you manage to get yourself out of jail?” He got in the truck and unlocked the passenger side door for her.
“Doesn’t matter. If you can’t jump over a twelve foot fence it wouldn’t do you any good. The hard part was convincing them I was headed for Mexico. I had to let them see me without getting caught.”
“Yeah, so?” Gunn started the truck and headed around the block, rolling slowly up the alley behind the hotel.
Faith rolled down her window and tilted her head back, breathing in the cool night air. “So I stole a truck, used it to block three lanes of I-5, then jumped off an overpass. Lots of witnesses, nobody followed.”
“What about helicopters, dogs?” Gunn pulled out onto the avenue and headed south past the front of the hotel.
“If what you really want to know is, did I kill anybody breaking out, the answer is no. Right after I jumped off the highway a city bus pulled up and I just hopped on. Lucky break, I guess. I’m sure the cops are combing the back streets of Tijuana right- Hey!”
Gunn grabbed her shoulder and shoved her down on the seat. Flashing blue and red lights filled the cab of the truck as they drove past the hotel. Three unmarked police cars had just pulled up out front.
The brakes squealed loudly as Gunn stopped the truck at the corner. “Well, Miss Clean Getaway, this don’t look like Tijuana to me. Maybe you want to hop out and tell them rollers they’re in the wrong city. That way you won’t have to explain to Angel about you bringing the heat down on him.”
Faith slid off the seat and looked at him. “It isn’t all my fault. The only person who’s been to visit me is Angel. That’s the only reason they’d come here.”
He gunned the engine and headed on down the road. “I’m sure he’ll take comfort in that thought when he’s in front of some judge explaining what’s up with all that medieval weaponry.”
“Yeah, well, if he’s turned back into a psychotic killer it won’t really be an issue, will it?”
He didn’t reply, just scowled angrily as he drove down the street. Ten minutes later he was still wearing the same expression. Faith checked Tara’s magickal compass. “At some point we’re going to have to head east. Not yet, though.”
Gunn continued driving in silence. She looked at his stony countenance. “Are you still pissed about the cops showing up, or what?”
“All right, seein’ as how you asked, I think you’re trouble. Not just cause of the people you killed. Maybe they needed killing, I don’t know. But from what I hear, anyone who gets close to you ends up with more trouble than they need.”
She bit back an angry reply. ‘It didn’t take him long to forget that I just saved his life.’
She let the little twig hang between her feet, out of the wind. It spun slowly then stopped, pointing left. “Turn East, first chance you get.” As the truck accelerated down the deserted street the demon compass slowly pointed more and more to the south again. “Go right. We’re getting close.”
“Damn,” Gunn swore. Faith looked up as he slammed on the brakes. A sawhorse barricade blocked the street. Down the block fire trucks and police cars lit the night with flashing red lights. A cop walked toward the driver’s side of the truck with his hand raised. She tugged her coat closed over her prison-issue shirt and tilted her head down so her hair partly covered her face.
“Road’s closed ahead,” the cop said, shining his flashlight in their faces. “There’s been a fire. You’ll have to go around. Which way are you...hold on.” He stepped back and listened to the radio at his shoulder, then spoke into it, placing his hand on his holstered weapon. “Please step out of the vehicle.”
Faith tensed, her mind racing. She knew she could get away, but that would mean getting Gunn arrested. Another cop had gotten out of the car parked beyond the barricade. This did not look good. She looked over at Gunn but he just sat there, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. “Don’t say anything,” she whispered. “I’ll tell them you picked me up hitchhiking.” She reached for the door handle.
“Don’t you move,” Gunn said softly. “Don’t do nothing.”
“Step out of the vehicle now.” The cop sounded impatient.
“All right. No problemo,” Gunn said, climbing out of the truck.
“You’re Charles Gunn, aren’t you?” The cop quickly checked him for weapons.
“No, I’m Rodney King. You want my autograph?”
“Very funny. We want to ask you a few questions about your friend Rondell. Seems he’s gone missing. If you come along voluntarily it might not take too long. Or if you prefer, I can place you under arrest and this could turn into a very long day for you.”
“Hey, I got nothing better to do with my time than listen to a bunch of questions I don’t know the answers to. I ain't seen Rondell. Ask me all the questions you want, the answer's gonna be the same. I still ain't seen Rondell.”
Suddenly another flashlight came on, shining directly in Faith’s eyes. “What’s your name, miss?” the other cop asked.
“What you wanna be buggin’ her for? Her name is Cordelia Chase and she don’t even know Rondell.”
The flashlight beam searched around the cab, then pointed down at the closed fist in her lap. “What’s that in your hand?” he asked. She slowly opened her fingers, revealing the small twig and it’s tied-on button. He stepped back. “Looks clean,” he called out to his partner.
Gunn looked in the window, trying to act casual. “Yo, Cordy, why don’t you take the truck to work and I’ll hook up with you later on?” He mouthed silently to her: Find Angel.
She looked him in the eye and nodded, then slid over into the driver’s seat and carefully backed the truck away. As she drove around the block she started shaking. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a confrontation with the police that hadn’t ended in a brawl and with her running away.
As she drove a wide circle around the roadblocks, she realized the emergency vehicles were converging from every direction on the same place she was trying to get to. Finally she parked the truck and started working her way through the crowd gathered on the sidewalks, using them for cover from the police. She definitely didn’t want to have to try to explain the tranquilizer gun she carried in its case.
It didn’t take long to find both the building Angel was in and the kicked-in back door. The burning gas station at the corner was too close by to be a coincidence. Now she was worried. If Angel had turned she’d have to kill him, and she honestly didn’t know if she could do it. But if he was responsible for that disaster down the street, no one he knew was safe until he was dead. It wasn’t until she got to the fifth floor that she realized there was more than one vampire in the building and that one of them was on the roof.
She consulted Tara’s charm, again. Angel was somewhere below. Ducking into the stairwell, she quickly assembled the rifle and headed down the stairs.
***
Tara tucked Willow in after a quick shower. She had just finished pouring a ring of Sand of Thebes around the bed when Wesley knocked on the door. He was carrying a tray with the tea she’d requested.
In the hall he handed her a slender, calf-bound volume. “I don’t yet know what, exactly, is causing these phenomena, but the spell I’ve marked should help negate any further attempts at outside influence.”
“Thanks, Wesley. You should get some sleep. You look really tired.”
“Oh, no need to worry about me. Much to do, yet. Research and preparation, that’s the key. Probably be at it all night.” He puffed out his chest, giving her a self-satisfied smile. “Well, ah, I’d best be getting to it then,” he said, but still he didn’t move, just rocked back and forth on his feet, looking at her.
Tara was starting to feel a little self-conscious. “W-was there something else?” she asked finally. The tea tray was starting to get heavy.
“Well, since you ask, I don’t think there’s any cause for alarm, but it might be wise to ward your room against vampires. Fred’s, as well, if you’d be so kind..”
“Vampires? Here? In- in- in the....” She looked nervously up and down the hallway. “You mean a particular vampire, or...”
“Just as a precaution, you understand. I don’t think there’s any immediate danger.”
“I, um, don’t think you answered my question, exactly.”
“Well, ah... Angel.” He winced as he said it.
“Angel?” Now she was worried. A hundred questions ran through her mind, but he seemed reluctant to talk about it.
“Yes, well I, ah...goodnight.” He turned and almost ran down the hallway.
“Night, Wesley.”
‘What’s going on here?’ she wondered. ‘Faith went flying out of here like her tail was on fire, too. Maybe we should leave in the morning. Or at least find out exactly what’s going on.’
At first it looked like Willow was asleep, then she rolled over and blinked at Tara. ‘I’m not going to let anything happen to you, my love. No matter what.’
She sat down on the bed and poured a cup of tea for Willow. “Is it okay, honey?” she asked as Willow sipped the fragrant brew.
“Mmm, yes. Good sleepy tea.” She leaned her head against Tara’s shoulder, fingers gently stroking her arm.
“Do you need anything else, love?” She took the empty cup from Willow’s hand and set it aside.
“Just you, Tara,” she whispered. “Always.” She raised Tara’s hand to her lips and kissed it, then pressed it to her cheek as she snuggled against her.
Tara leaned down to kiss her lover’s forehead. She loved watching Willow fall asleep, the way her long, curved lashes dipped lower by degrees as the lids slowly hid her emerald eyes; the way the corners of her mouth curled up in a secret little smile, the way the years fell away until she looked as peaceful as a child.
When she was awake every facet of her complex personality was reflected in her face: the quirky and infectious sense of humor, the unfailing kindness and generosity, the insatiable curiosity and fierce intelligence, the unique mixture of breathless innocence and intense sensuousness that was both sexier and more deeply romantic than anything Tara had ever imagined possible. But as she fell asleep all these varied aspects seemed to melt into the background, leaving only the reflection of her innate sweetness on the calm surface, a picture of perfect and timeless beauty.
A drop of moisture appeared on the back of Tara’s hand, a tear, as her heart overflowed. ‘With all the terrible things that have happened, I still feel like the luckiest person alive.’
***
Part 8
Kate Lockley leaned out from behind the door and squinted at the vampire in the hallway.
“I’m really not in the mood, Angel. This might be tea time for vampires but for us humans it’s the middle of the night.”
Angelus lifted his hand to force the door open and immediately felt the presence of a mystical barrier. He'd been in her apartment before, but now his entry was barred. Unsure of what it implied, he fought down his impulse to explode into rage. This situation called for something more subtle. “I’m sorry, Kate. I wouldn’t be here at this hour if it wasn’t an emergency.”
“What is it? If it’s about the fire...”
“No. I should come in and explain.”
“Just tell me.” She wasn’t about to let him see that she was wearing nothing but the pale blue uniform shirt she’d just grabbed off the back of a chair. She was very conscious of the cool air from the hallway on her skin, and that only the long tails of her shirt hid the fact she wasn't wearing panties.
He did look good, though. He always looked good, in that sort of dark and dangerous way that made him feel like the kind of trouble to be avoided and, at the same time, the kind of trouble that a girl couldn't get enough of.It's been a long time since I've had any of that kind of trouble. Too long. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to ask him in, just to be polite.
"Are you going to tell me, Angel, or is it a secret?"
Angelus wracked his drug-clouded mind for a reasonable response. “Well, you see, it’s-” Then he saw her eyes go wide with alarm.
“Angel, get down!” Kate shouted. He spun around in time to see Faith pull the trigger of the tranquilizer rifle. The dart snagged in his coat and fell to the floor.
He dropped into a crouch. “Missed me, Slayer. My turn.” He charged, batting away the rifle butt she swung at him, slammed her into the wall then threw her sideways, following with a kick to the ribs that lifted her off the floor. She fell to her hands and knees then swept one leg out, knocking him down. Leaping on top of her he rained blows at her until she bucked him off and scrambled to her feet.
Kate ran for her cell phone then peeked out the door, trying to steady her hands enough to dial 911.
Angel was back on his feet. Faith connected with a solid roundhouse kick to the side of his head, then hit him left, right, and left again, staggering him. “I’m sorry Angel. I hate to have it end like this.” She pulled a stake out of her coat pocket.
He circled warily. “This can only end one way, Faith.” With a roar he went into vamp mode, baring his fangs.
“You got that right, vampire, and time’s on my side.” She shifted her eyes toward the lightening sky out the window.
“It isn’t over yet,” he growled, leaping forward to grab her arm. They spun together, fighting for control of the stake, first one then the other bouncing off the walls, shaking the building. Then Angel swung her around toward the door and let go, sending her crashing into Kate. Both women tumbled back into her apartment.
He leapt to the door. “Kate, invite me in!” he shouted. “She’s a killer.”
“No!” Faith screamed, lunging with both hands for Kate’s mouth.
But she was a split second too late. “Angel, help me!” Kate yelled.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, stepping through the door.
She grabbed her cell phone and crawled behind the couch as the two resumed their battle in her living room. The same “All lines are busy...” recording was still playing. ‘Every idiot within two blocks must be calling about the fire.’
Dashing into her bedroom, she grabbed the revolver from her nightstand and ran back out. She was just in time to see the girl smash her VCR over Angel’s head then follow with an uppercut that launched him completely off his feet to land on his back out in the hallway. She’d seen demons fight before, but never imagined that any human, especially a slender girl like this one, could pick up a two hundred pound vampire and toss him around like a stuffed animal.
Kate followed her out into the hallway and trained her gun on the girl standing over Angel. For the first time in her life, she seriously considered just shooting without any warning. Fortunately for Faith her training overrode her fear. “Freeze!” she yelled. “I have a gun pointed at the back of your head. If you so much as twitch, I’ll shoot.”
Faith stood with her hands out, motionless. “Please, just listen to me. Angel’s dangerous, you can’t turn your back on him.”
“Just how stupid do you think I am? I know you broke out of jail yesterday, and the first place you show up at is the arresting officer’s? If Angel hadn’t been here I’d probably be tied to a chair right now getting the same treatment you gave your friend Wesley.”
Angel pulled Faith’s coat down around her elbows, trapping her arms, then pushed her forward until she was against the hall window. “Keep an eye on her Katy, she’s a slippery one.”
“Look,” Faith cried desperately, “I’m the only one who can keep him from killing you. A gun won’t stop him. I’m the only chance you’ve got.”
“You got that right, Faith,” Angel chuckled, then leapt forward and slammed a foot into the middle of her back. She burst through the window, tumbling head over heels to the ground three stories below.
Kate screamed and leapt back, looking at Angel in horror. “What did you- you killed her!”
Suddenly he was standing beside her and the gun was in his hand. In full vamp face, he grinned at her. “She was right, you know.” With one backhanded blow he knocked her back into her apartment and onto the floor. “She was the only chance you had.” He closed the door behind him and locked it.
***
End Part 8
[This message has been edited by fell (edited December 30, 2001).]
by delany » Sat Dec 29, 2001 9:59 pm
by Lonewolf » Sun Dec 30, 2001 12:49 am
Lonewolf
by 'lucy' moore » Sun Dec 30, 2001 5:50 am
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fiat justitia,ruat caelum.
by willow_thebadasswitch » Sun Dec 30, 2001 9:11 am
... but because I'm intrigued, I'm eager to read the rest.
by fell » Sun Dec 30, 2001 5:22 pm
So something- or someone, has been sucking our energy- or drawing magickal energy through us. But why? It must have been drawing on Willow to activate those deadly spells earlier. Is it trying to keep us weak? Or maybe it’s feeding on our energy like some kind of psychic vampire. Now that’s a really creepy idea. But we don't even know anybody here. It must be an attack on Angel. And we're the weapon. Willow, especially, because she has more power than she could ever guess.
She looked over at the sleeping girl. Willow wore a look of blissful peace, despite being drained almost unconscious and attacked by, of all things, frogs. ‘She’s going to go completely postal in the morning when she remembers that,’ Tara thought ruefully. For now though, Tara knew what she was feeling: the physical euphoria that comes from working heavy magicks, coupled with an exhaustion that went beyond the physical.
The process of aligning your mind and body with the elements and reaching out to open yourself to the forces was a powerful experience; there were always consequences. If intent was pure and your connection was good, it could be pleasurable, even ecstatic, on many levels. But in a case like this with the energy being pulled through them unawares it could have dire consequences. She'd read accounts of powerful mages using apprentices like antennas or batteries or something. She wasn't sure of the right analogy exactly, but the result was they ended up mad or crippled or even dead.
Well, it wasn't hard to block them so they can't be too powerful. Whatever's behind it we'll figure it out in the morning. They have no idea who they're messing with. They couldn't know we have a Slayer on our side.
***
When Lilah Morgan had heard from an underworld contact that someone was trying to contract the services of a Khorshan Mage, her first reaction had been to laugh. Everyone at the office knew the story about the former Senior VP who had tried the same thing a few years ago. The joke was that he’d been transferred to accounting. The punch line was that he now lived in a terrarium and the data entry associates took turns catching bugs for him to eat. But when word came that a powerful wizard had appeared in response to a summoning, she decided it was time to take things into her own hands.
She rolled over and frowned at the man in her bed. There was barely enough light filtering through the loft windows to see him. He was snoring loudly, though that wasn’t what had awakened her. With all the exercise they’d gotten last night she should have been sleeping as soundly as he was, but her curiosity had gone from nagging to maddening and she was seriously considering a variety of extreme measures to get some answers out of him. He had been less than forthcoming so far.
‘Maybe I’ll take him for one more spin first, though. Whoever said those little blue pills don’t work on women was crazy; I feel as randy as a teenager. Of course, noting beats the thrill of sleeping with the enemy.
Andrew Collins, he said his name was. It had turned out to be true; or at least that was the name she’d found on his papers when she’d searched his clothes. He was English, no question about that. He carried more than a few scars, some of which looked like they'd been stitched up with a carpet needle and fishing line, and one of which looked to be from a small-caliber bullet. And he was uncircumcised, so definitely not Jewish, probably not American. It was also certain that his rugged good looks and considerable charm concealed a man who was capable, cunning and ruthless. But who he was, and what he was up to, were a mystery. Of course, she could call the office and have them send a team over to interrogate him, but that would take time. Worse, it would mean she’d have to share the information. And Lilah didn’t like to share.
‘This is making me crazy. I want answers and I want them now.’ She slid out of bed and walked into her study. From a drawer she took a small, specially-fitted 9mm automatic and a fat silencer, screwing it onto the barrel as she walked back into the bedroom.
She stood naked at the foot of the bed, back straight, feet wide apart, arms level and elbows locked, pointing the gun at the sleeping man’s head. “Andrew? Andrew darling, it’s time to wake up.”
He just mumbled and rolled over, so she fired a single shot into the pillow next to his head. Even with the silencer it made a pretty loud POP in the enclosed space. He was instantly awake and sitting upright. His mouth slowly closed as a crooked grin replaced his look of surprise. “Mornin’ luv.” He didn’t take his eyes off her as he slowly reached for a cigarette. “That’s a good look for you. Very Emma Peel.”
“Why, thank-you.” She smiled at the compliment, though her eyes held about as much warmth as a rattlesnake stalking a desert rat. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? First, I have a few questions. Then, depending on your answers, I’m either going to make coffee for one, or for two.”
“Fair enough, swee’pea. But depending on your questions, you either don’t need the gun, or it’ll be of no use.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. First, you’re the one who summoned the Khorshan Mage?”
“I think you already know the answer to that one.”
“Alright. Leaving aside for the moment how you managed to arrange his cooperation, who do you work for, and what’s their agenda?”
“Oh, I don’t mind telling you. Others made the arrangements, I’m just the errand boy. I delivered the Sword of Tamerlane to the Mage in exchange for his services. Had some sort of sentimental value, I gather. As for the other, I’m a private contractor, and my employers aren’t the sort to rely solely on my discretion to protect their identity.”
“I have access to mind readers who can quickly find out if you’re telling the truth.”
“My point exactly. Now, you are the one holding the gun, but seein’s how I’ve scratched your itch, how about you scratch mine? Which big dog are you attached to?”
She tossed her hair and lifted her chin. “I’m nobody’s hired piece of tail. I’m a Vice-President at Wolfram and Hart, one of the most powerful law firms in LA.”
“Lawyer, eh? Well, I didn’t figure you for some cheap trull. No offense,” he quickly added.
“None taken. Yet.”
“Considering who you work for, maybe we should both lay our cards on the table. I believe we share some common interests. And enemies.”
“Maybe. I’d like some more answers, first. For instance, what exactly are you and this Mage up to?”
“Oh, just your basic termination. A young woman named Faith.”
“Faith? The Vampire Slayer?”
“That’s the one. From what I hear your firm would welcome her cancellation.”
“Yes, that would be...helpful.” She lowered the gun, finally. “It won’t be easy.”
“It might be easier if we worked together. Are you aware that she’s in town?”
“She’s escaped from prison?” She didn't look happy about this bit of news.
“Yesterday. How about we discuss it over coffee? For two.”
“How about later.” She dropped the gun on the nightstand and knelt on the bed. “Right now I’ve got a better idea,” she purred, crawling over to straddle him. “I always find playing with guns so...stimulating.”
Some time later, while Lilah was in the shower, Collins took out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. “This is Collins.” He listened impatiently to the reply.
“Oh, bugger the password, just take a message. For Quentin Travers, right. ‘The quarry is flushed.’ That’s it.”
***
"Faith? You mean the young woman who, ah..." Wesley tried to look surprised. He'd been expecting this visit ever since Faith had shown up.
"Yeah, the one you had a 'personal' relationship with. I believe it involved corrective surgery." The woman, dressed in a long overcoat despite the warm night, had identified himself as a US Marshall then held up an 8X10 black and white prison photograph of Faith.
The two broad-shouldered men behind her peered about the darkened entryway suspiciously. All of them had that tired, slightly rumpled look of having worked around the clock. The first streaks of dawn had just begun to light the nearly cloudless sky above. Out in the street red and blue lights flashed atop their cars.
Subtle, that. If she'd been here she'd be long gone by now.
"No, of course I haven't seen her. Dear Lord, you don't think she'll show up here, do you?"
She ignored his question, looking around at all the broken glass . "Say, what happened here?"
"Oh, ah... earthquake. Didn't you feel it?"
"Earthquake, huh?" She didn't look like she believed him but she didn't seem to care, either. "You mind if we come in and take a look around?"
"Not at all. Please come in." He stepped back, swinging the door wide open.
The woman stared at him for a moment then held out a business card. "Nevermind. If you see her call this number immediately. There'll be a patrol car parked out front, just in case."
"Oh, good idea, yes. Thanks much." Well I'm in it now. If they catch her here it's off to Coventry for aiding a fugitive. Wonder if I could plead Stockholm Syndrome? He sighed resignedly as he closed the door. He'd had no luck in figuring out who, or what, might be using the powers of the visiting witches to launch these magical attacks. And whoever was behind it might have other means of attacking Angel, especially given the circumstances.
Well, I might as well get some rest. If this new foe doesn't come up with some even more lethal attack we may all end up being hauled off to prison anyway as soon as Faith gets back. If she even comes back. And if Angelus doesn't show up first to murder us all in our sleep. He switched off the lights and lay down on the office couch then jumped up to grab a crucifix out of the desk. Clutching it to his chest he lay back down, hoping for a few hours at least of uninterrupted sleep.
***
by emily 'first' » Wed Jan 02, 2002 11:37 am
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vive,valeque.
by Rane » Wed Jan 02, 2002 12:18 pm
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