 |
 Thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review… it warms my heart that
everyone is still sticking with this story… :) Author Note of fair warning – First of all, I’m in the
middle of a transition. This jobless graduate just got a job. And
it’s 300-some miles from where I currently reside. It may take a while
for the next post due to lack of computer time and lack of Internet
availability (which I hope to remedy ASAP!)… which also leads me to apologize
for the long time between this post and the last one. I’m horrible,
aren’t I? I beg for everyone’s forgiveness… Whew… okay, second…, so I
also got that Pirates of the ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “I didn’t want to say anything until I had a better grasp on what may be
happening,” Wes started as he set the text he was holding down onto the coffee
table. Everyone – with the exception of a pacing vampire - had either sat
down or inched closer to Wes in order to get the anticipated explanation. “Well, enough with the suspense, Sherlock. What may be happening?”
Lorne asked. Wes’ eyes caught Cordelia’s again before he began. “I didn’t begin to suspect anything concerning memory tampering until after
Cordelia had returned. Little things began to make themselves known -
minute things that lay just on the edge of my brain. I couldn’t place my
finger on them or anything and I couldn’t tell you now what they are. But
I realized, as I tried to think back to certain situations of the past, that I
had anomalies in my memories. Cranial black holes almost. I
remember odd things, snippets that seem to be missing something. It’s
like déjà vu - except, of course, it isn’t. And when Spike relayed his
vision to me with the child and then with us, it made a little more
sense. There’s obviously a connection to us and the child, but I don’t
know what…” Wesley finished. There was silence for a few moments. “You know,” Fred finally said softly. “I think Wes is right. I
feel those black holes too, now that I’m actually working at remembering.
I don’t feel right.” Gunn frowned as he searched his own memory. “Okay - so, when will the memory man be coming back?? Cuz I’ve got
other memories I’d like to forget…” the black man said. Fred gave him a
look. “Not a time for jokes, Charles,” she told him. Gunn looked around the
room to see everyone else looking at him the same way. He cleared his
throat. “I’m sensing that,” he said as he scooted lower in his chair. Fred pat
his thigh before she turned to Lorne. “This is all fine and good, but what about you? What’s your excuse?”
she asked, pointing at the green demon. Lorne pointed to himself and
mouthed ‘who me?’. Fred nodded. With a roll of his red eyes, Lorne
stood up. “Oh yes, let’s pick the most illogical choice of all and blame it all on the
green, horned demon. Let’s be rational here, folks - and unfolks. What would
little old moi have to gain by erasing memories? Hmmmm?” he asked.
Fred shook her head. “That’s not what I meant, Lorne. I’m just sayin’ - you’re this
soul-reading mojo guy. Why couldn’t you tell that something was wrong, or
missing?” she asked. Lorne shrugged. “My memory must have been tampered with as well, sugarplum. I only
read soul meters, not ‘oh my good gosh the world’s in grave danger’ meters,” he
said. There was low laughter coming from the unusually silent ghost. “Oh come off it. Leave Jolly Green alone. You’re way off mark,
mates…” Spike said as he leaned back in one of Angel’s chairs looking
bored. “The only thing you’re remotely in the ball park about is that
there is a ‘who’ involved.” Wes turned to Spike. “What exactly do you know, Spike?” he asked. Spike just shrugged. “I know what I need to know, mate. But then, there are others in this
room who know more than they bloody well should,” the ghost said, his eyes
going to Cordelia, and then to Angel. It wasn’t missed by the rest of the
group. “Yes,” Wes said in a drawn out manner as he turned to Angel. “You have
been uncharacteristically silent during all of this deliberation, Angel.”
The vampire straightened from where he leaned against his desk. He paced
a few times before stopping and putting his hands on his waist. “What do you want me to say?” he asked, looking directly at Wes and then to
Cordelia. “That I’m behind all of this?” Lorne raised his hand as
he cleared his throat. “Actually, big guy, we were hoping for the negatory so we wouldn’t have to -
you know -” the demon said while making a stabbing motion. “- stake you
-” There was silence as Angel turned to look at him. Lorne closed
his eyes after a second of seeing the vampire’s aura. “I didn’t want to see that, Angelcakes,” the green demon said, resigned and
disappointed as he sat in a nearby chair. Fred looked to the demon and
then to where Wes stood. The ex-Watcher also held a disappointed look on
his face. “See what?” she asked missing the significance of Lorne’s words. Wes
shifted and stepped closer to the vampire. “May I be so bold as to inquire as to what, precisely, you tampered with?”
the Englishman asked. Cordelia crossed to where the vampire was standing
and stood next to him in support. Angel looked gratefully to her and she
smiled softly in response. Still, he was silent, not really knowing where
to start. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Cordelia prompted, laying a hand
on Angel’s shoulder. There was a snort from one of the room’s occupants. “A handy place to start, mate. . .” Spike said, causing Cordelia and Angel
to both glare at him. Spike caught Cordelia’s eye. “Right, right. Play by play and all that hubbub -” he said while
making a zipping motion over his lips. Wes cleared his throat to bring
attention back to the matter at hand. “Angel, at the moment, I’m finding it difficult not jump to
conclusions. It would be safer for us all if you would tell us what
happened,” he told the vampire. Angel shifted uncomfortably for a second
or two before he finally went and sat behind his desk. He indulged
himself a moment as he put his face in his hands and ran them roughly over his
face. How he was going to begin the story, he had no idea. The
Powers give him strength . . . the thought ran through his head as he watched
Gunn pick up a stake and toss it carelessly between his hands. There was
going to be a fight over that simple piece of wood when he got through.
With a heavy swallow, Angel finally looked up to the awaiting faces. “Fine, I’ll tell you what happened . . . but it isn’t pretty, by any
means,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “Well, considering what it led you to do - to your friends, boyo - I
wouldn’t have guessed any less,” Lorne replied. With that being said,
Angel took an unneeded breath and started the horrific task of catching his
friends up to a forgotten reality. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Somewhere in Europe… “Whew. . . You are one hard lady to track down,” a man’s voice said
from behind her. Buffy Summers turned her head to watch a good-looking
man approach her bench. She was sitting in a park in downtown Biarritz,
France enjoying the sun, a good book, and the time away from her father and
sister. Dawn had badgered their father into going shopping and Buffy had
politely declined in favor of alone time. The blond repressed a shudder
at the thought of butchering her already grotesque French skills in
conversation with any of the locals. “Who are you?” she asked as the man sat down next to her. A suspicious
frown graced the Slayer’s delicate features. The man just smiled. “You could call me a friend,” he said, sitting back and resting his steepled
fingers across his midsection. Buffy propped the sunglasses shielding her
eyes from the sun atop her head as she carefully looked him over. “I know my friends . . . and you aren’t one of them,” she said. The
man laughed at this. “Are you so sure?” he asked. Buffy rose, her book forgotten and her
hands fisted. “I wouldn’t get so smart-assy if I were you,” she warned. The man held
up his hands. “Relax, Sport. I know who you are and all about your - situation,” he
said. The frown that had crossed her face earlier was back. “Oh? My situation? And how would you know about something like
that?” she asked. The man smiled. “Allow me to introduce myself. . . Lindsey McDonald,” he said, holding
out a hand to her. She looked at it and then crossed her hands over her
chest. “Yeah? And who are you to me?” she asked dryly. Lindsey chuckled
as he dropped his hand. “Let’s just say that I know of a predicament that will soon need your -
expertise,” he said. “You know I’m the Slayer,” the blond stated more than asked. Lindsey
smiled a small smile. “I used to work for Wolfram & Hart. I know more than most,” he
said. Buffy shifted her weight to her other foot and apprised him again. “Wolfram & Hart, hmmmm? I’ve heard the name. Attorneys of
the underworld and stuff. Come to think of it, I think I’ve heard your
name in passing. . . Weren’t you some big, to-do, evil lawyer?” she
asked. Lindsey chuckled again. “I may have been at one time or another. But I, like others in this
sick, twisted world, am trying to find my atonement,” he said. Buffy
snorted disbelievingly. “Right. . . I’ve heard that line before,” she said. Lindsey
smirked. “More than once, I’m told,” he said, but he waved a dismissing hand at her
angry retort. “But that’s neither here nor there, really. But along
the same vein . . . your boyfriend could end up in some serious trouble.
He could probably end up using a bit of your know-how.” Buffy sucked in a
painful breath. “An - Angel?” she asked. Lindsey put on a look of mock surprise. “Oh? Yes, I forget that you’ve had a couple under the undead category.
But I suppose you could include both in my previous statement, then -” he
said. Buffy’s eyes widened as two and two put themselves together. “Spike? Spike’s - dead,” she said, no inflection in her voice to give
whatever feelings the name conjured away. Lindsey stood up and stood in
front of the Slayer. “Oh, I guess I could say he is - in a literal sense - but I could also say
it’s open for debate,” the ex-lawyer said. Buffy watched him
thoughtfully. “What exactly are you trying to get at here?” she asked. “Angel and
Spike are in trouble?” she asked, her heart hammering so hard in her chest that
she was sure the man in front of her could hear it. “Well, not at the moment, but there are some circumstances later on that
could get quite ugly. They’ll need all the muscle they can get,” Lindsey
said, still evading the blunt and to-the-point approach. Buffy held up a
hand to stop the man from saying anything more. “Wait, wait, wait . . . are you telling me that they are in trouble together?
As in working together?” she asked, incredulous. “What alternate
dimension are you living in?” Lindsey laughed slightly. “At this point, Ms. Summers, they have no choice whatsoever other than to
work together - let’s call it a convergent battle for divergent purposes…” he
said. “Well, that’s vague, don’t you think?” she asked. Lindsey gave her a
humorless smile. “Isn’t it always, Ms. Summers?” he asked in a rhetorical sort of way before
he started to walk away. “Hey!” she called after him. He stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“When’s this so-called trouble happening?” The ex-lawyer looked over his
shoulder. “I don’t have all the answers,” was all he said as he continued
walking. Buffy watched him disappear with narrowed eyes. “Bullshit . . .” she said suspiciously. But after the suspicion and
wariness melted away, an ache took over her heart. Spike was alive - or
closer to it than he had been for the past few months, according to studly
lawyer man. And he was with Angel. She found her bench again
and sat down. It would be a double whammy to her newly healed psyche to
see the two of them again. But maybe with all the shiny new psyche-ness,
she’d finally be able to put a few things behind her. . . And that
would be worth the trip. “Buffy!” Dawn’s voice cried. The Slayer lifted her head to see her
little sister bounding in her direction, their father ambling after her with an
amused look on his face. The smile that crossed Buffy’s face was genuine
despite the unease that coiled in her gut. “Dawnie! Did you buy out France?” she asked. Dawn laughed. “I couldn’t do that even if I tried!” she answered her sister. “What
have you been doing?” Buffy just chuckled as she picked up the book she’d
discarded and handed it to the willowy girl. “Enjoying a good story. . .” she said, fully aware of the irony her words
held as she thought of the mysterious lawyer. Dawn’s smile disappeared as
she assessed the Slayer. “Uh oh - you’ve got that look,” she said. Buffy looked surprised. “What look?” she asked. Dawn stepped closer to her sister as their
father sat wearily on the bench next to them. “The look that says there’s more going on in your head than enjoying a good
story…” the teenager commented. Buffy smiled. “Actually . . . there kind of is . . . ummm . . . listen Dawnie,” she
started as she took her sister’s arm and led them both to the bench Mr. Summers
sat on. “I’ve got to go back to the States for a little bit to finish
some things up.” Dawn frowned. “We’ll be back there in little over a month,” she pointed out. Buffy
nodded. “I know, but this needs to be taken care of as soon as possible. It
shouldn’t take too long - but if it does, you and Dad’ll just have to meet me
back there, okay?” the older girl said. Buffy hated having to do
this. After everything, the last thing she wanted was to be separated
from her sister. But duty was obviously calling. And there was no
way in Hell she was going to include Dawn in the world-ending mess. A
look to her father told Buffy that he understood and accepted the sudden change
of plans more than he ever would have before. He sat forward and placed a
hand on his younger daughter’s back. “I’ll get things squared away here in Europe and we’ll get heading back to
L.A. . . if you have to meet us there, you’ll meet us there,” he said
lightly. Buffy smiled gratefully. “Thanks,” she said. Dawn had a slightly hurt look on her face, but
nodded as well. “You’ll call me when you get there? To tell me everything’s all
right?” she asked, taking Buffy’s hand and expressing that she knew what everything
really involved. The Slayer gently squeezed her sister’s hand back and
stood up. “You know I will. Now, I’d better go get packing and calling the
airport, and I’m certainly going to need help with my already hopeless attempt
at packing,” she said grinning at Dawn. Dawn nodded and the Summers
troupe took themselves off. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Back at Wolfram & Hart… There were equally as many stunned faces as there were those that were
not. Lorne, Fred and Gunn all sat wide-eyed as they processed what Angel
had told them. Cordelia, Angel and Spike all watched their reactions with
knowing looks. Wes was the sole stoic face in the room. There
wasn’t much anyone could say at the moment due to the large amount of
information that had just been relayed. And Angel was right when he’d
said it wasn’t pretty. Wes ran a hand over his neck where that woman,
Justine, had left an unbearable but unknown scar. The ex-Watcher’s eyes
went to Cordelia, who was watching him back. Thankfully, there was no
pity in her eyes at the news of his betrayal. But then, she’d
known. And all of a sudden, the torn, miserable, sobbing young woman that
he’d held in his arms made sense. She’d come to him for understanding,
for forgiveness. And at the time, he’d been unknowingly unable to give
it. Yet, at this point, would he want to give it now? Wes
shook the thought out of his head. It was a morbid, bitter thought - and
he’d like to think himself better than that . . . for himself, for Cordelia,
for everyone. Then, the Englishman cleared his throat. “This is certainly news,” he said in a manner that in any other situation
would have been called light. Gunn, Lorne and Fred all looked at the man
incredulously. “That’s all you gotta say, man?” Gunn asked almost angrily as he stood
up. Wes shrugged his shoulders. “What more should I say, Gunn, since you seem to have my emotions plotted
out for me?” he asked. Gunn frowned and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, man, but I expected a little more than a ‘this is certainly
news’. . .” Gunn said. “You’ve been put in the bad guy shoes, man.”
Cordelia stepped forward with her hands raised. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” she cried. Putting her hands on her hips she
glared at Gunn. “Hold off the firing squad bucko. This is a lot of
news, okay? Don’t go jumping down throats before everyone’s had a chance
to really think it over.” Gunn glared back at her. “You knew and you didn’t say anything - didn’t do a damned thing -
you were too busy hiding out!” he said. Cordelia backed up a step at the
anger that floated over her. Again she held up her hands. “Excuse me?!” she asked coldly. “If I remember correctly I was
hijacked to another realm, brought back to wreak havoc with an evil being inside
of me, gave birth to said evil being, and went to sleepy-time land for
however long it was only to come back and find all of you holed up in Evil
Central. I don’t recall there being much I could do.” Gunn
let out a huff, but remained silent. He knew that he shouldn’t be angry
with Wes, or Cordelia - or even Angel, really. If it’d been someone he
loved in a situation like that - if it had been Alana - then he would
have altered reality too. But it would take a bigger man than him to
actually say it. So, instead of saying anything, Gunn just sat down
again, his anger spent. Wes watched the black man struggle with himself
and knew that he wasn’t the only one. Instead of dwelling on it now, Wes
decided to move the subject along. “You said that Lindsey knew of Conner. . .” he directed to Angel. The
vampire looked up, his eyes troubled for a second before he focused on the
issue. “Yes. He does, which I don’t understand. If reality was altered,
then no one should know. Cordy, I can understand. She wasn’t in
the reality that was altered. So her knowing doesn’t raise any warning
flags. But Lindsey - that’s a different story…” Angel said. Wes
nodded. “I agree. . .” he said. Angel looked to Wes, a remorseful look on his
face. “Wes, I. . .” he started, but Wes held up a hand. “Stop, Angel. We’ve got bigger things to worry about than to point
fingers and to throw out apologizes. I realize that we’ve all made
mistakes here… some of them bigger than others, but in this, there doesn’t seem
to be one of us that’s blameless. If anyone is uncomfortable working with
another person in this room then the door is over there. We don’t have
time to squabble or to let grudges mar our judgment. What’s done is done
and now we have to do our best to fix it,” he said. He didn’t meet
anyone’s eyes as he said it, but when he looked up Wes noticed that everyone
else had the same problem. “I agree with Wesley,” Cordelia said, her eyes roaming over ever stitch of
the shoes she wore. After a moment, there were agreeing mumbles from
everyone else in the room. “Well . . . that was bloody fun. Better than a bleedin’ Ali
twelve-rounder,” Spike said as he stood up. Angel growled at him. “Shut up, Spike,” he said. Spike just grinned. “Why would I do that? I just love rubbin’ the salt into the - oh,
bloody hell. . .” he cut off as he put a hand to his forehead. The kid, Conner, walking around what looked to be a university.
People in black attacking him. Men in robes in front of an altar.
The book and . . . Buffy? When Spike looked up again both
Cordelia and Angel were standing directly in front of him. “What did you see?” Angel asked. Spike looked between the two, and
then back to Wesley. “We don’t have much time. . . we have to get to the kid. . .” he said, his
eyes going back to Angel. “The rest, we’ll worry about later. . .”
Gunn and Fred stood from where they were sitting and threw concerned looks at
each other. Lorne also stood up. “Well, then, kiddies, what are we waiting for? Places to go… people
that we don’t know, but should know, to save - expensive silk suits to ruin - I
can feel the excitement, can you?” the green demon asked as he straightened
said suit. “And after, we can all come back here and get drunker than
skunks - well, most of us can, anyway.” Cordelia smirked sadly. “By the time the night is over, I’m sure all of us will want to be – if not
close to – running for mayor of Boozeville,” she said before she went to
Angel’s wall o’ weapons and took down an axe. “I believe this is your choice of weapon, Gunn…” she said before she threw
it to him. He caught it and looked at it for a second. “Damn straight,” he said. She then took down another axe for
Wes. She smiled at him quickly before she threw it to him. There
was a crossbow for Fred and a sword for Angel. Lorne held up his hands
when Cordelia looked at him. “I’m a non-violent demon. . . I carry a song in my heart and happiness on my
shoulders… there’s nothing in my genetic makeup that says ‘sword in hand’. . .”
he said. Cordelia just shook her head with a smile as she tucked the
sword under her arm for herself. “Let’s go kick some baddie ass, then,” she said before following Angel out,
everyone else trailing slightly behind. “Ahhh…” Lorne muttered. “The good ol’ days - except I wasn’t nearly so
involved. . .” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Whadya think?? Ending note (nothing important, just a simple ramble from yours
truly) - Okay, so I watched the 100th episode after all of the ‘Cordy’s back’
hoopla… I was so excited that there would be a wonderful reunion or a complete
closure… I was sorely disappointed on both ends. The hug, slight
conversation and parting kiss by no means satisfied my Cordy-fan-forever heart
and my Angel/Cordelia-forever state of mind (they kept avoiding the topic of
loving one another!). Joss should have given her more… a two-parter, at
least, to close her love for Angel and her relationships with everyone
else. And those ‘parting words’ to Wes? Cheeeeeap. He deserved
more too… Lindsey also deserved a better story line and a better
exit. They brought back so many big names that the plot got short-sighted
because of it. Cordy and Lindsey were the draws to the audience, and that
was all, it seems, the writers depended on. This could have been a
milestone in the Angel series if it had been done right. Now, it’s only a
pebble. Some 100th, grrrr, arrrg… Oh well… As of now, all I can
hope is that there will be enough fan ‘bring Cordy back’ brigades to at least
get her a recurring role to keep everyone thinking of her. I can’t think
of this as the last time we’ll see her. It would make me cry more than I
did in that last scene… She brought the show back to life and Angel back
to his loveable, bumbling idiot self he seems to be around her… the energy that
has been sorely missing since she went ‘bad’ was back for that one shining hour
in time. For that, and only that, I’m thankful… And despite all of
my gripes, it was still a decent show. Mind you… ‘decent’… :P And
the reason I put all of my thoughts here is because the WB official site
wouldn’t let me post what I thought of the episode due to some technical error
on the site. Riiiiight… ;) So, thanks for listening… |
