Chapter 15
Taco Run: The Crispy Shell
At first he had been so relieved that someone else was willing to shoulder some of the responsibility for keeping their working lives bearable. Then, after two nights of sleeping on Fred’s idea, all the old fears ingrained in Wesley from years of Watcher’s training began to itch at the back of his eyeballs.
Angelus. Death. Destruction. Pain. Fire. Blood.
And next to those night terrors flashed a fresh hell never envisioned nor prepared for by any Watcher since the Council began.
Cordy. Claws. Bitch. Rip. Bitch. Snip. Snap. Snark. Bitchbitchbitchbitchbitchbitch.
Wesley woke up swimming in sweat and knew without any doubt that Angelus would seem like a choirboy compared to the next decade in the same office with a frustrated Cordelia.
But even that hadn’t been what had convinced him to participate in Taco Run. It was his honor. He could no longer consider himself an honorable man if he allowed two people he had come to care for so deeply to suffer as long as he had means to ease their suffering. He couldn’t allow them to live the rest of their lives ignorant of the truth. That’s not what families do. Not real families. Not this family.
Of course the fight that Cordy and Angel had dragged him into this morning had nothing to do with his determination to finally end his…their…torture. His contemplation of what he was about to do was interrupted, as had all his recent attempts at quiet reflection, by one of the lovebirds. This time it was Tweety.
“I said I would take care of it and I will!”
Wesley mumbled a quiet, “Dear Lord,” at the sound of Cordy’s shrill, indignant voice and the rapid gunfire of her heels ricocheting across the lobby. He had no doubt Daffy’s rebuttal would not be far behind. He was, sadly, not disappointed.
“Then why are you still telling me about it instead of doing it?” Angel did not sound any more calm.
“If you don’t back off right now, I swear I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Raise your voice to an even higher decibel? Vampire stamina, remember? Bring it on, Chase!”
Wesley believed Angel would be able to stand whatever Cordy could come up with, but he knew he could not. I am but a mortal man.
“Angel! Cordelia! Please come here. I need to speak with you.”
The grenades being lobbed in the outer office suddenly burst through the walls of his inner sanctum. Neither Angel nor Cordy missed a beat in their argument and, as if on cue, both took a break in their volleys to turn to Wesley and yell, “What?”
Wesley’s palms slammed on the desk as he rose. The sudden noise and aggressive posturing startled both enemy combatants and they momentarily stared at him as if sizing up a new player in the game.
Gesturing to the two guest chairs and taking a breath, Wesley tried to keep the agitation from his words as he said, “Please take a seat you two. We have a new case to discuss. I would appreciate it if you both would hold all questions and comments until I have finished my summary.”
Surprisingly to Wesley, they both sat without arguing. Perhaps they were just tired and needed an excuse to stop fighting for a moment, but he wasn’t about to dispute his good fortune. Clearing his throat he began his pace which always helped him focus his thoughts prior to speaking.
“Well, then. I was contacted two nights ago from a family in Beverly Hills…”
“Finally,” Cordy interrupted. “I can actually wear something decent on a case and not worry about coming back covered in rat poo.”
“Cordelia,” Wesley said, the warning obvious in his tone.
“What? It’s about time we got a rich client besides David.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what we need. More clients just like David.” Angel didn’t even try to hide how he felt on the subject.
“Says the poor vampire with every dime he has locked up in this money pit of a hotel.”
“Children!” Wesley’s stern voice brought their eyes off of each other and back on him. “I believe I asked you to hold all comments until I was finished?”
When they both merely sneered at each other but remained silent, Wesley continued.
“As I was saying, this family – Jonathan and Melissa Martin and their son, Alexander – have recently been plagued by a most pernicious demon known as a Phloghoghubo demon…”
“A flog hog what ho?” Cordy asked. “Is it a piggy demon? ‘Cause how cute would that be unless it’s like a greased pig in which case I’ll have to rethink my whole wardrobe. Again.”
Cordy sighed and slumped back in her chair, a sign that all hope of having a fashionable Beverly Hills stakeout was shot. Her features pinched in disgust as if she was imagining axel grease covered silk.
Angel rolled his eyes. “It’s not a pig demon and could you for once forget about your clothes. If anybody should be worried about that, it’s me since I end up paying for cleaning or replacing them all anyway.”
Cordy shot up from her seat. “I beg your pardon. Since when do you…”
Angel was content to sit and merely smirk, his eyes twinkling from beneath his skewed brow. Bringing his fingers to steeple over his stomach, he had the cocky air usually sported by Wesley when he was about to deliver the coup de grâce.
“Since you charmed Hank at the laundry into giving you phony receipts for weapons repairs,” he said air quoting that last part, “or ‘evil waste disposal’ and putting them on your expense reports…”
“I did no such thing…”
Angel ignored her interruption. His satisfied grin got wider and his voice a little more firm as he continued to talk over her attempted denial.
“…not to mention the not-as-subtle splurges at Loehmann’s charged to my credit card. As you so often like to remind me, I am old and, therefore, was not born yesterday. I am also not so culturally deficient to believe your story that Loehmann’s is a Jewish magic shop.”
Cordy was momentarily stunned into gaspy lip flapping.
Only the sound of Wesley’s inappropriately loud chortle and embarrassed “ahem” ceased the pair’s dueling glares toward each other and brought them back onto the third wheel in the room.
To Wesley’s credit, he didn’t flinch by the sudden attention awarded him. He did find it difficult to wipe off the pursed smile that had formed when Angel described Cordy’s creative accounting.
“Yes, well, while this is certainly a topic worthy of discussing further if what Angel is saying is true, we shall temper all discussion of your unauthorized clothing allowance until later. For now Angel is quite correct that the Phloghoghubo is not a piggy demon.”
“Wesley, I did not pad my expense report,” Cordy was about to further expound on her innocence when Wesley held a palm up to stop her.
“Later.” Seeing Cordy momentarily back down and resume her seat, Wesley felt comfortable continuing. “Now…”
Cordy turned her head quickly to the left and stuck her tongue out at Angel and immediately returned her attention to Wesley and smiled innocently.
“As I was saying,” Wesley began again and tried to cower Cordelia with his most disapproving schoolmarm expression but wasn’t able to sustain it in the wake of her disarming grin. With lips itching to laugh, he forged ahead, “The Phloghoghubo is not particularly difficult to kill, but it is notoriously tricky to trap. It can appear and disappear at will and is basically a prankster demon. It sprays a fine mist on its victims compelling them to converse freely and honestly.”
When he noticed Cordy’s eyebrow lift and a soft “pfft” leave her mouth, he couldn’t deny how lame the threat sounded. “Certainly not life threatening, of course, but annoying for the Martins whose marriage is scarcely hanging on after weeks of such uninhibited speech.”
Angel mumbled, “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
Wesley ignored his comment and Cordy’s equally muffled humph. “The only way we will be able to capture and kill it is to occupy the house thus luring it inside, and once the demon shows itself, we will perform a spell from the outside to keep it contained.”
Sensing Cordelia was about to ask the obvious, Wesley interrupted. “And, yes, this spell will also keep you both contained within the confines of the mansion walls, so once the cleansing is complete, we will have to do another spell to let you out.”
Cordy’s bottom lip protruded ever so slightly as her disappointment at not being able to outthink Wesley was made evident.
Satisfied he had correctly anticipated her concern and smiling softly at the pouting woman before him, Wesley continued. “One person will act as bait to distract the demon and keep it from vanishing, while the other throws a mystical powder on it that will effectively cause it to disintegrate but will not be harmful to any of us. I want both of you on the inside to act as decoys and to destroy the demon with the powder.”
Angel was the first to speak up. “Wait a second, why me and Cordy? Why not me and Gunn?”
“What’s wrong with me on the inside?” Cordy asked clearly offended.
“You’re not fully recovered yet. There’s no reason to put you in that kind of danger when Gunn and I can handle it.”
Wesley anticipated this reaction and already had his defense worked out. “Frankly, Angel, the danger is minimal. The most that will happen is that Cordy will talk incessantly and really how different would that be?”
“What are you saying, Wes? Are you implying that I talk too much?” Cordy’s dare was evident in her voice and crossed-armed stance.
“He didn’t imply anything. He said it straight out. And let’s be honest; he’s not wrong.”
Wesley could tell Angel was very pleased to be able to actually score two points in the space of mere minutes. He did it so rarely.
The infrequency of it even shocked Cordy into another open-mouthed silence.
“It’s pointless to argue because I will need everyone else outside the house. Each Phloghoghubo travels with several nasty little parasitic creatures called Krpo that can be more dangerous than their host. They won’t be able to enter the house as the Phloghoghubo enters a home by decorporealizing and the Krpo cannot do so. They will remain outside until the demon has finished its business.
Once we contain it inside, the parasites will most likely become very agitated and deadly. I will need Gunn there to deal with them, and I will need Fred with me to prepare and perform the containment spell. That leaves both of you for the inside work.”
“What about Lorne?” Cordy asked.
Both Wesley and Angel looked at her as if she were freshly hatched.
“Okay, can we forget I said that? Carry on with the boring but totally necessary explaining thing you were doing.”
“Thank you,” Wesley said. And he did continue. For another fifteen minutes. Which could have been only three and a half had not both Cordy and Angel taken every opportunity to fling insult, innuendo and outright name calling during Wesley’s necessary but unfortunate pauses to breathe.
When at last he finished with the plans for the evening, he was relieved to hear Cordy express her need to go home and change into appropriate Beverly Hills demon killing attire with only the softest “please do” emanating from Angel’s corner of the ring. Whether it was because she was excited to wear something expensive for a change or just anxious to leave Angel’s presence, she didn’t bother replying and was soon out the front door.
A moment of blissful quiet descended as Angel stared at the closed doors still vibrating from Cordy’s slamming. Wesley observed the man’s shoulders slump and heard a disappointed sigh leave his lips as his head drooped forward.
“Amazing,” Wesley softly said shaking his head in wonder at the vampire’s immediate reaction to Cordy’s absence. He was even more astounded by Angel’s response, misconstrued as it was.
“Isn’t she?”
***
Taco Run: The Crumbly Meat Filling
“She’s what?” Gunn asked, although why he was surprised Fred wasn’t sure. He’d known Cordy longer than she had and even she knew Cordy would be decked to the nines given the chance to visit a posh mansion in Beverly Hills. Even if it was to kill a demon and not indulge in crackers and caviar.
“Charles, don’t say anything. She doesn’t get to dress up very often and she looks very pretty. Besides, if everything goes as we hope, it’ll be good she looks nice. It won’t hurt for Angel to think she’s gorgeous.”
“Then she’d be better off not wearin’ anything.”
“Charles!” Fred slapped his bicep.
He rubbed the spot wincing. “Girl, you need to stop studying at the Cordy love tap school. Because truth? They hurt.”
Fred stepped into him on her toes and hugged his neck. “Aw, did the weak little cow hurt the big bad bear?”
“Whoa, lambykins,” Lorne covered his eyes as he stepped onto the cobbled patio. “Save the love vibes until we get the Princess and her pea-brained champion into position. Then you can shower the celestial planes with all the sexual fireworks you’ve got because those two? Well, once they find out what we’re up to, there will be no line, thin or otherwise, between love and hate.”
Lorne put the rich brown alligator covered case he was carrying on the table and flipped open the latch.
“They won’t be that mad, will they?” Fred left Gunn’s side and leaned one-handed on the table watching Lorne unpack while she twirled a long strand of hair around her index finger. “I mean we’re just tryin’ to help. They can’t really…ya know…hate us for that, can they?”
“This is your idea, Fred,” Gunn said. “You didn’t think we could manipulate, lie, kidnap, lock up, and basically strip them naked and walk away with just a slap on the wrist and cup of hot cocoa?”
“Well…”
“That’s okay, my little matchmaker.” Lorne tweaked her chin and continued screwing together the microphone stand. “I’ve booked us all on a cruise to Jamaica. We’ll be sunning and sinning a thousand miles away by the time Wesley mouths the last syllable of that freedom spell.”
“Aw, man, how cool is that?” Gunn gave Lorne a quick fist to his arm before grabbing Fred from behind and pulling her snugly against his chest. “See? Nothing to worry about. Cordy and Angel get to let off all that frustration and we get an overdue vacation.”
Lorne rubbed his upper arm where Gunn placed his manly love pat and said, “And if things don’t work out as planned, I’ve already got a buddy of mine checking out prime karaoke real estate in Montego Bay. We won’t even have to step foot in LA again. If, ya know, this all blows up in our faces like a cheap bottle of ten-day old Champagne.”
“It won’t. I worked out every detail mathematically. It can’t go wrong. Unless…”
“Please,” Lorne begged. He plugged the cord into the mike and set it into its cradle on the stand without looking. “I really don’t want to know how little it would take to mess this up. Let me have the fantasy just a little bit longer.”
A sneaky-footed Wesley rounded the corner staring suspiciously at the bougainvilleas and jerked in surprise when a bird of paradise tapped his butt. “Ack! That’s a silly place for a plant.”
“I’d say it’s been there far longer than your tip-toeing self. What’s up with the clandestine routine, maestro?” Lorne asked and quickly hushed his voice as a thought occurred to him. “Has the program for the evening been busted? Should we be running for the nearest cave?”
“No, no. Everything’s going as planned. Angel and Cordelia are currently inspecting the house, making sure all the windows are shut, and getting a feel for the layout I believe he said. I’m just a little nervous. Aren’t you?”
Wesley looked at his three cohorts, all looking blank-faced and calm.
“Oh, let’s be honest, shall we? When has one of our complicated endeavors such as this ever come to fruition without one of us almost getting killed or maimed in the process?”
Gunn, Fred and Lorne pondered Wesley’s question, each momentarily seeking an answer in the other’s eyes. Without a warning intake of oxygen, they all spoke at once.
“Toastin’ that vamp in the Wolfram & Hart lobby went without a hitch…”
“We didn’t turn into a four-headed circus freak jumping into Pylea …”
“We beat up that old man and got Angel back without a scratch…”
Wesley put up his hand to shut them up. “Fine. We’ve had some successes but not without a lot of effort and near misses in the process.”
“Wesley,” Fred said as she approached him. “Everything will be fine. I’ve worked this out to the tiniest detail. Nothing….”
“Don’t say it!” Wesley tut-tutted her. “I’ve worked with magic, curses and, God help us, fate long enough to know you don’t dare any of them if you want to live to see tomorrow. Let’s just keep constant vigil so that if something does go wrong, we can at least guarantee those of us left standing that we did our best.”
Fred shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever you say, boss. I think you’re all being overly melodramatic about this. It’s just a simple spell, but we’ll be extra careful. Won’t we guys?”
“Not a problem for me…”
“Careful is my sixth name, sugarplum…”
Fred smiled at her backup and then turned her best coy expression on Wesley. “See? Everything’s under control. Lorne’s got the microphone ready, and we’ll have the light board set up in five minutes. I think that’s your cue to get Angel and Cordy in position, so why don’t you scoot back in there.”
She finished with a skillful bat of her eyelashes and soft push on his shoulders. The last thing Wesley saw as he turned the corner was Fred, head tilted, smile flashing and right hand doing that cutesy but dismissive goodbye wave girls are so good at.
As he reluctantly plodded toward the front entrance, he knew he’d just been played. He was just shocked at how good innocent Fred had become at doing it. She really must spend less time with Cordelia if I am to survive working with the two of them.
***
Angel was staring at Cordy’s ass for the hundredth time since she showed up in that dress – pitch black and as tight as the darkest night feels around your throat. There was no denying that his woman epitomized the term “booty call.”
They had toured the mansion from first floor to attic, checking all the doors and windows, and were now back in the living room that was so cavernous it could have been featured in every home decorating magazine published and still not been shown in its entirety. The rest of the house was just as ostentatious with opulent fabrics adorning every stick of furniture, original paintings from the masters on the walls, and matching gold and/or silver doorknobs and drapery tiebacks.
If it weren’t for the occasional out-of-place electronic game or the ugly big-screen television in the main rooms, he would have thought no one had ever lived here. It looked like a show home and a museum for antiques and fine art.
Cordy hadn’t stopped “ewwing” and “ahhing” since they stepped inside. It was as if she’d never known riches herself or maybe it was just so nostalgic for her she couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. He might have enjoyed her expressions of glee at every detail she noticed – and he had at first – but then he had decided to let her lead the way on the tour and had gotten totally distracted by the view of her body from behind.
The way the muscles in her calves and thighs contracted beneath her smooth, tanned skin as she walked up the stairs. The way her shoulder blade poked out, stretching its glossy wrapper until her spine rippled beneath it as she reached to stroke another texture or straighten a crooked Picasso. He was so grateful to the marvels of modern dress construction that would allow him to view so much leg and back but still keep the best parts tantalizingly covered.
Then there were the high heels. How anything so flimsy looking with only thin straps crisscrossed around such elegant ankles could hold anyone up was a glorious mystery. But more importantly, her foot was arched impossibly high and her hips were forced to sway just to keep her from falling down.
All of which brought him to the wonder of her ass again – firm, round and the perfect size for his hands to hang on to. Two glorious mounds that dimpled and relaxed with every step but never bounced. Amazingly tight and defying all laws of gravity, he ached to grab those miraculous curves and rub his threatening erection between her buff cheeks to feel all that hot tension suck him dry.
**If you don’t start humping that soon, I’m going to start prancing this body around with the limpest wrist in West Hollywood. At least we’d match your wardrobe.**
Angel sighed at his demon’s interruption of his fantasy.
My wardrobe is not gay! You’re the one with the leather fetish.
**Got me there. But I didn’t do that to our hair. That spike shit just screams “there’s more gel where that comes from boyths.”**
Oh, and that long-haired mess you had was the essence of manliness. Just admit it. We both like to be pretty, and we can’t help it if more than one gender finds us hot.
**That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said. Too bad it makes you even more of a homo. **
“Angel, are you even listening to me?”
Cordy’s irritation with him wasn’t new, but the high-pitch of her voice did manage to break his concentration.
“Huh? Of course I’m listening. You said something about the…uh…the couch. How it’s to die for or something.”
“Uh-huh. Something just like that. Except I was saying I was hungry and wished we’d ordered pizza before I die from starvation. Nice how your vamp hearing picked up on the “die” part but not the part about me doing it soon.”
Angel didn’t notice the wince and mental talking to Cordy did as she turned her head away from him.
“Fine, so I wasn’t listening. I don’t always hang on your every word, Cordelia. I have other things to think about.”
“Oh, like how much gel it takes to keep that hair standing up like that or if that leather coat looks cooler from the back than the duster?”
**Sometimes this woman freaks me out. And that’s saying something considering who I am.**
You and me both.
Both he and his demon shivered.
Not giving her an inch, Angel lied. “No, I was not thinking of those things. I was thinking I wonder where Wesley is because I can’t wait to get this over with.”
“Ask and ye shall receive,” Wesley said as he came up behind them.
“Wes, don’t spew out bible passages around the vampire,” Cordy said as she slid between Angel and the back of the satin-covered sofa running her finger down his leather coat as she passed. “We don’t want him to burst into flames. At least not until we get rid of this infestation and then he’s on his own.”
Angel had felt his blood begin its migration south as Cordy touched him and his eyes traveled down the incredibly long “V” of her dress which exposed the plump edges of her almost cleavage and the taut, silky skin between. Then he heard her flippant remark and his blood pooled in his stomach causing the vampire version of acid reflux.
Luckily Wesley interrupted his planned rejoinder.
“Thank you for that advice, Cordelia. We certainly do not want Angel bursting into flames or disappearing in any manner. He’s far too valuable to the mission as I am sure you would agree.”
“Pfft, when he feels like it,” Cordy mumbled.
Angel ground his molars and rolled his fingers into deadly ball-peen hammers, his soul the only thing stopping him from using them on her mouth.
Wesley didn’t have to look at Angel to know what that remark was doing to him. The air instantly stopped moving and the hairs on his neck prickled from the waves of hostility hitting his back.
“All right then,” he said hoping to avoid yet another verbal blood bath. “It seems as if we’re ready to begin. Angel, if you’ll take a position in front of the fireplace.”
Angel slowly backed up still staring at Cordy but finally turned as he reached the end of the couch and walked to the place Wesley pointed to.
“Yes, that’s it, right there. And, Cordy, you stand just about here.”
Wesley positioned her behind the sofa in the placed he’d been standing.
“Yes, that should do it. Now…”
“Wes, why do we have to stand like this?” Cordy asked.
“Because based on the previous infestation events, the area between you and Angel is approximately where the demon has entered on almost every occasion. The few other times were in different rooms, so the odds are in our favor here. If it manifests elsewhere, well I trust you will find that out and adjust accordingly.”
“Hooo-kay. You could’ve just said because I say so,” Cordy said.
Angel didn’t bother with a “pfft” but actually laughed instead. “Like that ever works on you.”
“It does coming from Wesley. I just don’t happen to believe a word you say.”
“Both of you stop it right now.” Wesley said afraid his last nerve was going to snap if he had to listen to one more argument. “This shouldn’t take too long if everything works as we hope. Therefore, I would greatly appreciate it – no, I order you two to shut up and do your job.”
Angel and Cordy stared at Wesley, both momentarily taken aback at his tone. Then, as usual, Cordy was about to reply when Wesley raised his hand to stop her.
“Not. Another. Word. I mean it.”
Neither spoke but each let their displeasure show when Cordy folded her arms across her chest and arched one brow into a sharp point and Angel did the same accompanied by a low growl. With quivering bowels, Wesley continued.
“Thank you. I will now leave the house, lock the front door and Fred and I will begin the incantation to summon the demon. I don’t know how long it will take for the demon to appear, but it shouldn’t be any longer than 5 or 10 minutes. If it hasn’t appeared by that time, you should start a search of the dwelling in case it shows up in another room. In the meantime, silence is imperative. We don’t want to telegraph our presence any sooner than necessary.”
He began his journey to the exit when he turned and said, “Oh, remember once the demon is inside we will be performing the containment spell and no one will be able to leave the house until we reverse it.”
Both demon fighters nodded their heads acknowledging their understanding of the instructions and Wesley finished his trek to the door and out of the tension laced atmosphere.
He had tried to keep his shoulders back, spine stiff and chin up during his instructions. He was quite successful until the moment he finally left the house and locked the door behind him. Then his body collapsed and, sagging, he made his way to the back of the house where the preparations for the spell were taking place.
Seeing Lorne, Fred and Gunn lounging around the patio table sipping their Slurpees did not boost his confidence.
Oh, God, if this doesn’t work, please let Angel kill me first.
***
Taco Run: The Cheesy Toppings
It had been at least 7 minutes before Angel felt something – a change of polarity that made him dizzy for a second. He reached into his pants pocket for the pouch – well, actually it was a sandwich baggy – of magic powder Wesley had provided.
Seeing Cordy staring at her nails without a care in the world, he hissed and waved his bag at her. Taking the hint, she opened her much too small clutch and pulled out an identical clear plastic container tossing her purse on the couch when she was done.
Both unzipped their plastic baggies and clutched a palm’s worth of the royal blue dust with flecks of silver mixed in.
Then the fun started.
***
Taco Run Headquarters: The Patio
Wesley and Fred had just finished the preamble of the truth spell. To complete it, they needed to repeat two more lines after the subjects were exposed to a dusting of the powder. It was up to Lorne and Gunn to make that happen.
Wesley turned and pointed. “Hit it, Lorne.”
The Pylean’s fingers flipped the switch on the light board and slowly pushed up faders one, two and three simultaneously. From the small monitor next to him on the table, he could see perfectly inside the mansion, the lens trained on the area Wesley had instructed Angel and Cordelia to stand.
Next to Lorne, Gunn sat with a high-end sound board with at least fifty tracks and its own set of faders. The moment Lorne moved past the three on the fader scale, Gunn turned on the recording and began his own smooth rise of sound effect that roared forth from the speaker sitting in front of the table.
The mission team could see and hear everything that happened as long as Cordy and Angel stayed where they were supposed to.
That was the “unless” Fred had alluded to earlier. The one thing nobody wanted to know about. The one thing that could go wrong. But what were the odds that Cordy and Angel wouldn’t do what they were told?
***
The targets: Inside the Mansion
Except for that initial shift in solidity of air and earth, Angel sensed nothing when the Phloghoghubo finally appeared. No portal-like suction, no lightening, not even a simple snap, crackle, pop. It was as if someone just flipped a switch and there it was: all floppy-jowled, flat-nosed, flipper-handed eight feet of pinky gray cuteness. Once it opened its mouth the look was complete.
“Ah, it is a piggy demon. It even oinks. Here piggy, piggy, piggy.” Cordy held out a palm full of the powder as if it was the demon’s ideal food and perfect lure.
“Be careful,” Angel whispered even though he didn’t feel threatened by the Phloghoghubo. It just stood there looking around the room with its wimpy swine-like growl not even acknowledging their presence.
“Does it look familiar to you?” Cordy squinted at the demon and tilted her head checking it out from all angles.
“Just because I am a demon doesn’t mean I know them all. Hell’s a big place.” Angel kept poised ready to jump the instant the intruder even snarled at Cordy, but so far it was just standing there like a tourist in line at Disneyland.
Cordy’s fingers snapped and the unexpected sound made Angel jump. “I know! It looks like one of those alien whatchamacallits in that bar scene in Star Wars. You know the one I’m talking about, right?”
“I never saw Star Wars. All that space stuff seems pretty unrealistic to me.”
“Well that’s pretty judgmental coming from a vampire with a soul. Besides, what does that have to do with seeing a cool movie? Movies are supposed to be unrealistic. Who wants to pay to see their own boring lives 100 feet high in Technicolor with THX?”
Angel was getting impatient. This demon was acting very undemonlike and that meant unpredictable. And unpredictable meant dangerous especially for Cordy.
“You’re right and I’m wrong. Now let’s just kill this thing and go home.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s kind of cute and so far it hasn’t done anything. It looks lost.”
“Then it should thank us for sending it to hell where it belongs. Keep it busy.”
“Fine. Have it your way and kill the nice piggy demon.” Cordy channeled her inner bait and began waving her arms. “Hey, Mr. Hog Hobo. Look at me! Why don’t you see if you can make me talk a lot?”
***
Gunn leaned toward Lorne whispering from the corner of his mouth. “We got that on tape?”
“That we do, my ebony lamb.”
“Good. At least we can prove she asked for it.”
“Charles! Lorne! What are ya doin’ tapin’ ‘em? Do ya have a death wish?” Fred moved to see what they were up to but Wesley gently pulled her shoulder back returning her to his side.
“We can’t worry about that now. It’s time.”
He put the matchbox in her hand and pointed to the urn on the pedestal in front of Fred. “Light it now.”
On the monitor, Wesley watched Angel’s arm stretch high and his hand open wide to send silver and blue sparkles in an arc the end of which headed straight for Cordelia. The night birds hushed with the swoosh of flame, their instincts telling them something more powerful than their songs was about to join the garden fragrances of earth with the mysteries of the lunar lit sky.
***
“Are you insane?” Cordy spit out magic dust while her eyelids flapped furiously to clear her eyes.
“What? I did what I was supposed to do. I didn’t tell it to disappear before the powder hit it.”
**I dare you to tell her about her blue hair.**
You’re mistaking me for someone who enjoys being beheaded.
**Stop mooning me with your pussy ass. You’re blinding me.**
Cordy hacked out one more puff of silvery blue mist interrupting Angel’s mental battle. “Yeah, well, you couldn’t have aimed for its knees? Nobody said you had to cover it from head to toe.”
**For fuck’s sake! Do you need the invitation stapled to your balls? Show her what being covered from head to toe is really like.**
“You can shut up any time now.”
**Yep, gotta love it when you say that shit out loud. I’ll just be over here in the corner saying goodbye to our dick while our tongue is still attached.”
Angel’s eyes stretched and focused on the fire-filled gaze of the woman he…was extremely afraid of at the moment.
“You did not just tell me to shut up.” Cordy’s palms clasped her waist and Angel would have sworn her salon nail job was going to shred the dress and her skin at any moment.
As she inched toward him, he could feel her chainsaw eyes flaying his skin. He shivered and backed away, slowly moving further into the room and away from the spot Wesley had designated for him to stand.
“Would you believe I wasn’t talking to you?” he asked, ending with a pathetic chuckle that begged her for sympathy and forgiveness.
“I know you’re clueless and insensitive, but I never pegged you for suicidal. But, hey! You want to die a quick but painful death, I’m your girl!”
Before she drilled one of those perfect nails into his squishy left eyeball, Cordy decided he deserved to be just as blue and itchy as she was. Grabbing a fist full of magic powder, she flung it as hard as she could at the retreating coward’s big fat head.
The room flashed bright white before her fingernail drew blood.
***
“No!” Fred screamed.
The last syllable of the truth spell curled off Wesley’s lips and clashed midair with her panicked wail.
“Stop! Oh, God, no! He…Angel…you can’t…. Wesley, stop!”
In the blink of an eye, the blackboard gray patio was bleached by magical lightening streaking through space and beveled glass. All four instinctively raised palms and arms to shield their senses from the overload.
As loudly brilliant as it was, so was the deafening silence. The air was thick and heavy like Bourbon Street in August. Because it was a truth spell, perhaps it required the complete washing away of all falsehoods. Any remaining waves of lies that might be left on the wind were squashed and buried under the weight.
The light show was over in seconds but the air crackled for minutes afterward. Lorne felt the change immediately. It was very subtle, but to one as sensitive to auras as he it was obvious that there was magic afoot.
Looking around at the astonished faces of the other conspirators, Lorne savored the tingle in the air as it crept up his body and raced to his fingertips. He shivered and then shook his body like a dog after a bath.
Clapping twice, he said, “Well, well, fellow Slytherins, magic has left the building and is doing the cha cha on my medulla oblongata as we both hoped and feared. I suggest we finish with a real toe tapper and head for the South Seas.”
The blast must have untied Fred’s tongue because she finally managed to speak a complete sentence.
“Wait, we have to stop. We have to undo it or redo it. Fast!” Her eyes wide and hands flailing at nothing and everything, Fred appeared ready to pop.
Gunn managed to reach her even on seriously wobbly legs and catch her flying hands in his own. The simple touch immediately calmed her body, but her eyes still reflected the breakneck speed at which her mind was working. “Fred, just take it slow and tell us what’s wrong in as few words as possible.”
“Angel moved.”
They all waited expectantly for more, but it was obvious Fred thought that told the whole story.
“And,” Gunn urged.
“And nothing. He moved!” Fred said stomping her foot.
Gunn shrugged. “I get that he moved. I’m just not getting why that calls for a do-over. Anybody else feeling as dumb as me right now?”
“I am feeling like I’m sitting on the special ed side of the room,” Lorne said, “but then I usually do around all of you except Angelkins. When it’s just him and me, I feel like the scarecrow with a fresh brain.”
“Argh! Don’t you get it?” Fred jerked her hands free from Gunn’s not able to emphasize properly without them. “The one thing that could go wrong that no one wanted to talk about earlier? The one thing that might mean all of us hidin’ out in a cave for, I dunno, an eternity so that Angel doesn’t find us and suck us dry startin’ with our entrails and workin’ his way out through our nostrils?”
Gunn blinked and then his jaw dropped. “Angel moving was the thing? This whole spell depended on Angel
not moving?” He hung his head and shook it slowly. “Oh, man, we were screwed before we began. I know this really deep cave in Death Valley…”
***
“What the hell was that?” Cordy asked the still blinking vampire.
She had been lucky enough to have her arms up in attack position and was able to block out most of the spell’s brilliant blast quickly. Angel, however, was not as lucky since he’d been on the defensive and had needed his eyes wide open to scout for an escape route.
“I hope it was the dust kicking in to get rid of the demon,” Angel said in between blinks, spitting out magic dust, and shaking his head to free his spikes from being permanently tinted blue.
“Well that just seemed overly dramatic for that pathetic pig demon, dontcha think? I mean first the dust then the light show and then whatever crawled up my spine there at the end.” She shivered and did a little shimmy in the hope of making whatever it was that snaked up her back leave quickly.
“You felt that, too? Damn, I hope Wes was right about that magic dust not harming us. Do you feel like you’re disappearing?”
“Oh, no, do not even suggest that. I like Wesley and I really don’t want to have to kill him. At least not until he figures out how to keep
me from dying first.” Cordy’s eyes instantly doubled in size and her palm clamped over her treasonous lips.
The air in the room, which moments ago was swimming with energy and the scent of ozone, instantly stilled and became crushingly heavy on Angel’s chest. He stood frozen with specks of silver and blue on his lips and tips of his eyelashes. Inside he could feel the roar of his demon but his head was deathly quiet.
“What did you say?”
Before Cordy could remove her hand from her mouth and answer, the sound of Lorne’s chipper voice bounced off the walls all around them.
***
Meanwhile, back at headquarters…
“Fred, Fred calm down,” Wesley said. In her panic Fred was picking weeds from the garden to replace the already burnt herbs in order to recast the spell.
“No, don’t you see. It’s all wrong. Everything’s wrong. Angel and Cordy…they won’t…it can’t…and then they’ll yell and be sad…and it’s all my fault. We’ve got to do it again. Dandelion stems should work just as well as regalius root in theory.”
Wesley wrapped the woman’s trembling hands in his and spoke softly but firmly, his gaze latching onto her frightened eyes and hanging on until the dread there turned into curiosity.
“We haven’t done anything wrong.
You haven’t done anything wrong. The spell went just as planned.”
“But, he moved. He left the area of optimum effectiveness and…and…he moved!”
“Yes, he moved, just as I imagined he would, and I adjusted the spell to account for it. You did once call me the brains of the operation, and I don’t take that responsibility lightly. It’s okay. Trust me.” Wesley smiled at Fred’s still befuddled expression, but he could feel the anxiety slowly leaving her body as her hands relaxed inside his.
Gunn came up behind her and asked, “So does that mean I can call Rondell back and tell him to stop packing up the track with water and sunscreen?”
Wesley felt Fred had calmed down enough to break eye contact. “Yes, Gunn, I believe we can cancel our permanent sabbatical to the desert. At least until we see how well they react to finding out they actually do love each other.”
“Praise the Lord. I know I’ve already got a good tan base, but I wasn’t looking forward to turning this ebony silk into dried up leather.”
“And we can all be grateful we didn’t have to see that. Not that green looks any better with saddle soap and in the shape of a catcher’s mitt,” Lorne said. “So, then, are we ready for the big reveal, kids?”
Having been released from Wesley’s grip and then scooped up in the embrace of Gunn’s arms, Fred smiled and sighed contented in the knowledge that they weren’t all going to die because she had messed up.
“Yeah, I think it’s way past time. Let’s do it so we can go home, and I can faint on the comfort of my own bed.”
Wesley knew the feeling. He wanted desperately to pass out and not wake up for a week. As confident as he seemed while convincing Fred everything had worked perfectly, he still had doubts. Mainly that Angel and Cordy, even if it worked well, would thank them for interfering. He anticipated many angry conversations and quite a few penetrating stares in the months to come. But all in all, he felt it would be worth it, and he was truly proud of what they had accomplished as a team. He puffed his chest out as the feelings of success and satisfaction that had eluded him in the past few months returned. Glancing about him at the expectant faces of his friends, he smiled and gave the words they’d waited forever to hear.
“Everyone, the Taco has landed.”
***
Angel was reluctant to take his eyes off of Cordy’s face as he breathed in and out to calm the rage building inside. The fear that they were about to vanish in a puff of blue mist had been replaced by the complete insanity consuming him at the thought that what Cordy had said could be true.
But as Lorne’s words began to disrupt his concentration, he became even more baffled and moved his eyes toward the source of the interruption – the Bose speakers of the surround sound system.
“Boin soir, mes enfants.” Lorne’s voice boomed and in the background they could hear Gunn asking if he should turn it down and Lorne’s reply in the negative. Lorne then continued.
“As I was saying, welcome to the all truth, all-the-time network brought to you by your friends at Angel Investigations where “we help the helpless” isn’t just our motto but our mission. And right now, Angel and Cordelia, you’re about as helpless as they get. Really. Pathetic. So sit back and enjoy being saved because this is your last shot.
And, yes, Cordelia, lover of all things Lucas, that was indeed a character from the Star War’s bar. That special effect, this home and all its high tech gadgets are provided courtesy of our favorite billionaire, David the super-sleuthing wannabe Nabbit, bless his romantic, pea-pickin’ heart.”
At the sound of Nabbit’s name, Angel couldn’t help but growl.
“Lorne, what the hell is going on?” Cordy shouted at the ceiling.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what exactly is going on,” Lorne said, “because truly the clue train just isn’t passing anywhere near your station, is it? Well, your friends are tired of trying to get it to switch tracks so we built the station right in its path. Yay us”.
“Now, let me introduce to you your friends who want to say a few words before we sign off for the evening.”
Inside the house, the loud but muffled sound of a microphone being passed from one person to another was heard. Angel and Cordy looked at each other but Cordy quickly turned away seeing the anger and question he’d asked earlier still clear in his eyes.
“Hi, Angel and Cordy. This is Fred. Hope you’re not too angry with us. We just want you to be happy. Cordy, I left something special for you in the master bedroom in the top left drawer. Actually, it might be more for Angel but,” Fred’s embarrassed giggle was heard before she continued. “Anyway, once you two get everything straightened out, I want to hear all about it. Remember, sisters tell each other everything…”
“Give me that,” Gunn could be heard despite the noise of the fumbling of the microphone. “Yo you two. This wasn’t my idea but I’m glad we did it. You two being miserable just wasn’t cool. Not to mention the hell you were putting the rest of us through. So, hey, if this works, more power to you and us. If it don’t, then don’t be coming at me for any payback because you brought it on yourselves. I’m just saying.”
“Thank you, Gunn, for the fine print, disclaimer portion of the announcement,” Wesley said after, from the sound of it, he jerked the mike from Gunn’s hand. “Angel, Cordelia, normally you know I’m not in favor of interfering in the natural course of events. However, the two of you are beyond redemption. Not in the Angel is seeking redemption sort of redemption, but in the too-stubborn and noble for your own good manner. Good Lord, I think I just channeled Fred for a moment. In any case, whether or not this works, just know we all love you both and only wish for you happiness and love. Lorne, I believe you wanted to add something.”
“Right you are leader of the pack vroom-vroom. By this time, you may both be feeling a little strange. Not in the sense of getting some. At least not yet. But as if you just want to talk. And talk you shall of all things bright and beautiful. All truths great and small. Because that powder you both so generously threw on each other is a mystical truth recipe. Isn’t it yummy? Don’t lie. Hah. You can’t, can you?”
Cordy suddenly darted from the room and disappeared down the hallway. Angel was still trying to process what Lorne, in his colorful but not quite direct manner, was trying to say. When it finally clicked what their friends had done, Angel realized that the words Cordy had blurted out earlier weren’t a mistake. She had just confessed a truth she had obviously been hiding. A truth he needed to make into a lie as soon as possible because in no way was Cordy going to die. Not now, not ever. He would not allow it.
**Damn straight. That bitch is mine forever and she will not die until I decide to kill her. Now go find her and fix this, asshole.**
Angel didn’t need any encouragement from Angelus. He was already heading in the same direction Cordy had taken.
In his wake, Lorne’s story continued oblivious to the one unfolding within the mansion.
“I know what you’re thinking, my little doves, but you’re not going to be able to sit there like your normal mule-headed selves and just not talk. There is a little extra added attraction to that magical dust that will keep you yapping for many hours to come. Oh, I just love that word. Come. Remind you of anything? Okay, Wesley, I’m signing off now. Off. Get it? You soon will I hope. Tootles for now and a lovalicious evening to all.”
There were a few seconds of the sound system powering down and then the living room was silent.
Angel didn’t have to go far to find Cordelia. From the hall he heard the sound of drawers being slammed and mumbled curses. Then he heard a, “Thank God,” something that sounded like material ripping and then silence.
He saw a light further down on the right side and realized she was in the kitchen. He ran the rest of the way and stopped short at the sight in front of him. If he weren’t so angry and worried, he would have laughed.
Surrounded by half-opened drawers, the contents of which were strewn on the counters and floor all around her, stood Cordy with silver duct tape securely glued across her mouth. Her eyebrows raised questioningly as she lifted the roll of tape toward Angel.
When Angel just looked at her in that way that clearly said, “Huh?” she ripped off the tape and yelped in pain.
“Here. Take some and tape up your mouth.”
“Why? I’ve got a lot to say and so do you.”
“Exactly, dumbass. Do you really want me to know all of your dark, dirty little secrets because I’m guessing there are a few things you would prefer I never, ever know. Say, for example, what your demon really thinks of me? I think the last time he shared his opinion, you ended up chained to a bed for a week.”
Angel considered exactly one point three seconds and that was point eight seconds longer than he needed.
Stretching out his hand toward Cordy, he said, “Give me the damn tape.”