Act Five
Scene 1
The moth was taunting him. It buzzed and dove around his head, grazing cold skin covered in shadows but never lingering long. The need for the life-giving light and heat of the lamp was too strong. Scraping its hungry wings against it, the creature was repelled by the scorching warmth it yearned for and flung back into the icy depths of darkness where he stood. Over and over again, the sad dance of the moth to the flame was playing out in the corridor outside the apartment.
And here he was, the virtual human embodiment of that tragic tango. Mothman desperately winging his way to the light and heat of his flame praying he wouldn’t be burned this time. Trusting that this time the sun he flittered toward would welcome and consume him instead of thrusting him back into the black gloom.
He was prepared. Angel had asked the others if he could have some time alone with Cordy tonight. They had understood and perhaps were a little relieved, appearing worn to the bone after all the stress and carnage of the day. So he had taken Wesley back to the office for his car, picked up what he needed from his wall safe, and had just said goodnight to Lorne and Fred at her car. Now all he needed was to somehow get into this stranger’s apartment, and he hoped he had the answer in his hand.
He knocked. Nervously tapping his leg with his twitching hand, he waited but got no response. He knocked again, longer and louder. The eerie silence was broken by what sounded like glass shattering, a muffled scream and then someone stumbling toward him. The door flung inward and Angel was transfixed by the sight.
Before him stood, he assumed, the current tenant. To say the man was disheveled was too kind. He was a mess physically and by the wild, tormented look in his eyes, mentally as well. Angel had seen those eyes many times as the Scourge of Europe, so he recognized the fear in them as well as the smell of it oozing from his pores. If the rest of the image hadn’t been so comical he might have been growling and vamping out to enjoy the sensation fully. But he could only smile knowing what was obviously happening here.
The man’s arm had pierced a lampshade that was still attached to his bruised limb just above the elbow. There was a page of the LA Times stuck to the sweat of his neck. Covering his head and dripping down over his eyes was the entire contents of a very large mayonnaise jar. If the smell hadn’t confirmed it, the part of the jar with the Kraft label was perched on top of his head for easy identification. And what good is a condiment without the meaty goodness of bologna, chunks of which were sticking out of his ears and, oh god, his navel.
The rest of his body appeared to have been processed on the frappe setting. His pants and shirt were basically just shreds and his feet were tangled in several…well many…electrical cords, which explained the stumbling earlier. And Angel could pretty much guarantee part of that was also caused by the rest of that lamp that was attached to one of the cords he was currently dragging behind him.
And yet he somehow managed to be oblivious to his appearance. He held his head high and asked Angel in a civil tone, “Can I help you?”
Angel watched the coup de grâce when one of the moths from the hall landed in the mayonnaise and got stuck. He couldn’t help it, he giggled. When the man cleared his throat in impatience and displeasure at the laughter, Angel tried to regain his composure.
“Uh, yes, you can help me. I need to borrow your apartment for, oh say, forever.”
“And why on earth would I do that?” The man looked at him like he was crazy, and Angel thought it hilarious considering it was coming from the-crazy-on-the-other-foot man wanting to stay in this haunted torture chamber.
“Well, in addition to not dying, you might find $20,000 a good enough reason.” Angel opened the briefcase he was carrying to flash him the crisp packets. Angel saw ‘condo down payment’ flash behind the mayo drenched eyes.
The beleaguered former renter didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the case from Angel, said, “Welcome to your new home,” and exited running.
Angel cautiously crossed the threshold hoping Dennis would be kind to the new boarder and interloper in his dead life.
Scene 2
“See I told you he’d get rid of that idiot.”
Dennis pffted. “I was doing just fine. I had him on the ropes. He was just about to scream for his mommy.”
“Yeah, you’re the man, Dennis,” Cordy appeased.
“What man? Your man?” Dennis swirled around the room causing a slight tornado of debris in hopeful excitement.
The sudden whirl of papers, shards and sharp objects around Angel halted his advance into the living room. “Hi, Dennis. Nice work with the haunting. I’m betting a certain former cheerleader may have helped a little, huh?” Considering the state of the room before him, Angel thought it wise to sooth the pissed off spirit.
“Dennis, stop it. You’re scaring the vampire. And, no not my man. The man. Ya know. The big Kahuna. The real cool cat. The cat’s meow. Any of this workin’ for ya?”
“I suppose he’s your man. I still don’t think he’s good enough for you.” With that he launched a thankfully abridged Webster’s Dictionary at Angel’s head.
Angel put his arm up to deflect it. “Okay, Dennis. I get that you don’t like me very much. But I did help you with your tenant problem, so maybe you could help me a little? May I please talk to Cordelia?”
“Dennis. Stop showing off. I know you could dust him with one flick of a wooden spoon. But he’s really trying to be nice, and I need to talk to him.”Cordy imagined her head tilted forward, her eyes peaking out and her lower lip pushed out in her favorite pouting pose.
When there was no movement of any kind to his request, Angel upped the ante. “Dennis, if you help me talk to Cordy, I’ll make sure that no matter where Cordy wants to live we’ll find a way for you to be with her. In fact, if she wants to live at the hotel, you’ll even have friends. I know quite a few people had untimely deaths there.”
“See? I told you I wouldn’t leave you, and Angel’s got some pretty powerful people working for him now. He can do it. C’mon Dennis. Do it for me.”She consciously fluttered her eye lashes and flashed him the big smile.
Dennis humphed but relented. “Okay, I’ll do it for you. But I don’t trust him and if he tries anything funny, I’ll pull out the Ticonderogas and write his future in his dust.”
Angel felt something nudging his legs and turned to see one of the armchairs had been positioned behind him. He sat and the coffee table moved in front of him. A pad of paper and pen moved from the floor and landed on the table. Dennis began to write.
“Hi, Angel. It’s me. Birkenstocks? Who knew the key to bringing someone out of a coma was really ugly earth shoes?”
Angel laughed. She was really here. He felt a phantom pounding in his chest and his palms felt clammy. “Hi, Cordy. I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve missed you so much. How are you?” He suddenly felt pretty stupid talking to a pad of paper.
“I’m feeling pretty non-solid right now. Did you save the little girl? Are you hurt? Is everyone okay?”
“Whoa, slow down. We’ve got all night. The girl’s fine. Fred got a little slashed up, but she’ll be fine. I’m…well…I’ve had worse impalings. That time with Spike and the torture vamp springs to mind.”
“I miss bandaging you. Pretty silly, huh?”
Angel smiled and relaxed into the chair. The memories of her warm hands on his skin after a battle filled him with contentment. “Mmmm. I miss that, too. The Wolfram & Hart medics don’t have your soft touch.”
“Since you brought it up, how’s working for the enemy panning out? Is it everything you dreamed an evil law firm would be?”
He flinched and sighed. “Cordy, that’s a long conversation which I’d rather have with you face to face. Can we not do it now?”
“If you’d rather see my face and hear the tone of my voice when you try rationalizing this mess to me, then we can wait.”
“I get how this might be easier on me if we do it now, but I don’t want to fight with you. Please. I just want to be with you and talk about getting you back.”
“Fine. We’ll wait. But trust me it won’t be long mister. So how are we getting me back? Is a Ouija board involved because those things creep me out?”
The irony that a disembodied soul speaking through a ghost found Ouija boards creepy made Angel grin. He decided to ignore it and began filling her in on Fala and Wesley’s soul healing theory. The explanation didn’t sound as off-the-wall as he thought it might coming from his mouth, but he wasn’t sure she would buy it.
“My soul is cracked? I don’t feel broken. Is Wesley sure about this? Maybe Wesley’s cracked. What if it doesn’t work? Is there a plan B?”
Angel hadn’t even considered it wouldn’t work. Fala was obviously a powerful being of some sort and Wesley’s idea seemed logical considering all the crap that had happened to Cordelia in the past year. What if it didn’t work? Could any of them handle the aftermath if it didn’t? Imagining the disappointment and pain in all their faces and thinking of Cordy just nowhere forever made him just plain furious. “No! It will work. Failing is not an option, Cordelia, so just don’t even go there.”
“Fine, calm down, oh great and noble leader. I trust you. So…um…who’s the lucky Dr. of Soul? The plasterer of my cracked-up walls? The tab A to my slot C? The Abbott to….”
“Me. I would be Tab A.”
Angel waited. And waited. The pen didn’t budge.
“Cordy? You still there? Hellooooo. Dennis, where is she?”
The table vibrated and then his chair beneath him. More papers and knick knacks flew across the room. The wind picked up and garbage came at him from everywhere.
The pen skirted across the page and Angel bent down to read it. “Knife rack! What the…” He looked up just in time to duck and deflect the incoming paring and cleaving weapons. A nice serrated bread slicer lodged in the cushion between his thighs.
Suddenly it got deathly quiet.
“An oldie but a goody, Dennis. Thanks for the warning. Okay, Cordy, I’m sensing a little discomfort with this idea. Can we discuss it calmly?”
The pen became the storm as it attacked the paper.
“Sensing discomfort? Are you channeling Dr. Phil now or are you just insane? Have you all stepped through the looking glass into bizarro land? Did you shanshu or something, because the last I heard you were still a vampire with a pretty thin hold on that soul of yours, and we are not risking the big bad here. Not for me and not for anybody. You are not doing it. I’ll just go away before I let that happen, so just forget about it.”
God she was so infuriating. Even more so when he couldn’t grab onto her shoulders and shake some sense into her. The best he could do was stand and start pacing.
“I am going to do this and you will go along with it because it’s the only way, dammit! I want to do it. I need to do it! Why can’t you just let me be the strong one for once? Why can’t you just put a sock on that big pride parade you’ve got going and admit for once that you need me! Dammit, Cordelia. Why do you have to piss me off so much?
Angel heard the scratching of the pen and went back to the table. He was still fuming and in no way ready to sit.
“Because I can? And ‘put a sock on the big pride parade’? Can you say hanging around Lorne too much?”
“Funny, Cordy. But that’s not getting us anywhere.” He wasn’t about to let her joke her way out of this. “The healing can only take place between two souls that are emotionally bonded … intimately connected. You’re my seer. I’m your champion. It has to be me.” He wanted to say so much more. He wanted to say it had to be him because he loved her and she loved him, but saying that through Dennis was not going to happen. He’d waited this long he could wait a little while longer.
“Angel, I do need you. I’m sorry if I don’t…didn’t say that enough. And, yes, I am more connected to you than anyone else. But the risk is just too great. You said your soul had to be released to join with mine and we both know Angelus comes with that scenario. Besides I don’t feel that messed up, really. I’m sure joining with Wes or even Gunn…”
“No! Definitely not Gunn. He’s not…something’s not right…not Gunn. And not Wesley. He has to be here if something does go wrong. And don’t even think about Fred. Her wacky soul would probably just send you screaming back to the higher planes. And Lorne’s mystical connections can’t be tampered with. So that leaves me. Me first and me last. Got it?”
“But, what about Angelus?”
“Cordy, you said you trusted me. We’ve thought this through carefully. It’s really not a big deal. I’ll be chained up and drugged. There will be no unleashing of Angelus. And once our souls are separated, the re-ensouling is a snap. I mean how many times have we done this now? Twenty…thirty times?” He was calmer now and allowed himself the small attempt at humor.
“Only twice. Don’t be a smart ass. As Wes would say, twice is only a coincidence not a pattern. I swear if I wake up and have to stake you, I’m going to kill you.”
“I get that.” Ah, there it was. Cordy logic. Nothing sounded sweeter. Angel knew he could relax now so he sat back down to spend a quiet evening alone with a homicidal ghost and the most wonderful disembodied bitch he’d ever known.
Scene 3
It bothered him. She bothered him. He’d lost control for a few minutes and that wasn’t like him. It wasn’t at all the new and improved King Gunn. The weird ass kid had done something to him, and he didn’t like it. If he didn’t have control then what was he? Just Angel’s flunky. Lower than a demon.
But that girl. What did she do to me?
As soon as he’d reached the offices he’d gone straight to the White Room. He needed it. The charge that comes from stroked fur. The stature that comes from the long, lean, outstretched body. The clarity that comes from the cold black and white vision. The cleansing of doubt that comes from the rhythmic laving of the rough tongue.
As Gunn relaxed and recharged the purring, soothing voice filled his mind and reaffirmed his goal.
“Tomorrow. It is time. Tomorrow.”
The thought was thrilling. “Tomorrow. Yes. She’ll be back tomorrow and then I can face her. Then I can see the pain on his face when he knows she’s gone. Just before I kill him.”
“No. During the healing. Kill him while he sleeps. He will be gone and she won’t be able to return without him. Pounce when no one expects it.”
Something was nipping at him. A tickling itch at the base of his spine. “No, I must face them. They have to know it’s coming and that it’s coming from me.” He squirmed to scratch it.
“You are the king. You decide what is right. Is it not wiser to wait in shadows and watch? Does it not show strength to stalk and attack at the weakest link? That is how you survive.”
Damn. There it was again. Just the slightest irritation working it’s way up. “Yes, it is smart. But it’s…it’s….cowardly. They must know who is the master. Who has destroyed them” Now the itch was just below his shoulder blade. He couldn’t reach it.
“It is not important that the dead know anything. The living will know. They will be stunned by your cleverness. They will be afraid to challenge you. Their fear will make them follow.”
“The dead are not important.” Something whispered…prickled at his ear…Alana.
“The dead know nothing. The dead feel nothing. The dead will be nothing. Tomorrow.”
Then there was nothing.
“Tomorrow.”
Scene 4
Wesley had spoken to Angel at 9:20 and was off the phone with Fala’s mother by 9:32. It was arranged that the ritual would begin at 2:00, but that Wesley would meet them at the apartment at 1:00 to be schooled on the ritual. Fala had told him what he needed to gather and the general process, so he had plenty to keep him busy until then.
Cordelia didn’t want the healing to be performed at Wolfram and Hart. And she had insisted her body be moved to the apartment as well. She refused to wake up in evil town, as she’d put it. Or, rather, as Angel had informed him she’d put it. He hadn’t actually spoken to Cordelia yet. And though he was anxious to do so, there was far too much to be done.
So, he was in charge of arranging for medical personnel and the safe transport of Cordy’s corporeal form. Moving her worried him tremendously since she was already very fragile and such a trip could put an end to her barely functioning systems. But what Cordy wants… He smiled warmly at that thought. “It’s good to have you back.”
He was just picking up the phone to order the re-ensouling orbs from office supplies when Fred and Lorne knocked and then peaked in.
“Mornin’ Wes. We got your message. We just dropped by to see if there’s anything we can do to help with the healing.”
Wesley waved them in. “Ah, Fred…and Lorne…yes, come in. Have you seen Gunn yet?”
Lorne and Fred both shook their heads in the negative. “But I did see his truck in the garage, so he must be here. I can go find him if you want?” Fred was out of her chair and already leaving when Wesley stopped her.
“No, Fred, that’s fine. I’m sure he’s around some place. I just want to make sure he’s aware of the schedule. Fala said it was imperative that her closest family be in attendance for guidance and support.”
“Does that mean we’ll all be…I dunno…going on some psychedelic soul trip? Oh! Is there peyote involved? Because that stuff can really mess you up.” Fred’s eyes glistened slightly and the corners of her lips edged up into a hopeful grin. She saw Lorne and Wesley staring at her like she wasn’t speaking English. Fred’s smile faded and she fussed with the folds of her skirt. “Well, that’s what I’ve heard any way.”
Lorne patted her arm knowingly. “Fred, my little roach clip, I don’t think we’ll be riding that particular magic bus today, will we Wes?”
“Uh, no. You’re absolutely right, Lorne. No magic bus for us. As I understand it, our spirits are there to surround them and keep the two who are being joined centered. Apparently, without that support, they can get lost in each other and never return. So it is vital that we all be there.”
Lorne took a sip of his Bloody Mary. “Lord knows we don’t need those two getting any more lost in each other than they already are. So count us in, right sugar lumps?”
“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t miss it. This is just so excitin’. I mean the whole joinin’ and healin’ and then gettin’ Cordy back. It’s gonna be the best day of my life next to comin’ back from Pylea, of course.” Fred’s grin was infectious and both men caught it.
Then there was the uncomfortable silence. Lorne and Fred looked at each other and passed eye signals and twitches between them. Wes thought they might have something more to say, but when neither spoke, he felt the need to do so.
“All right, then. If you’ll excuse me, I have a million things to do to get ready…”
“Wesley, about the whole bein’ Angel’s dad thing…,” Fred piped up. “We were just wonderin’ how you were feelin’ about that. I mean it’s got to be really strange to wake up one day and find out you were your best friend’s dad. That kinda thing happens all the time in Texas, but I’m guessin’ not so much where you’re from. And then, on top of all that, your son is a 250 year-old vampire!”
“What tidbit is trying to say is we can see how this might be a little awkward and, well, we just want you to know that there’s no need to feel that way. I’ve always known you and Angel were connected at a deep level…”
“You knew?” Wesley asked amazed.
“No, not that specifically. I just read auras. I don’t pick up the souls-of-my-life channel. Strictly out of my range. I just mean I knew there was something very strong that you two had in common, so it doesn’t surprise me or any of us really.”
Fred tried to help. “Yeah, we all knew you two were a lot alike. All hero like, and you both can brood like nobody’s business, and how you both were attracted to Cordy…”
“In that respect, sweetums, we are all soul brothers.” Lorne thought it best to cut her off before she helped them out of jobs.
Wesley smiled and felt warmed by their concern. “I’ll admit when Fala first said that I had been Angel’s father, I was more than stunned. And that there was some awkwardness immediately thereafter goes without saying. But I’ve thought about it, and I find it neither troubling nor important. I am obviously not really Angel’s father. I have no memories of that life, so it’s not as if I must treat him as my son or apologize for anything his father may have done to him. I am Wesley Wyndham-Price and whatever lessons I’m destined to learn in this life I will do so as Wesley Wyndham-Price. Nothing has changed except another piece of the puzzle is in place.”
“So you’re not gonna ask Angel more about his father…uh…about what you were like back then?”
“I’m sure we’ll talk more on the matter at times. But just as I don’t see myself as his father, Angel doesn’t regard me as that either. Even if he did, what his father never gave him was approval and respect. He already has that from me. If that gives him some measure of peace, then I’m more than happy that it worked out this way.”<>
Scene 5
“So Wes is your dad? I’d better not find out that I was your sister, because that would just be ewwww.”
They had stayed up most of the night talking until finally Angel collapsed on the bed at about 4:30. He and Dennis were now cleaning up the results of yesterday’s hauntapalooza so the place would be conducive to the important ceremony to come in only little more than an hour.
Angel picked up a soaked roll of toilet paper and scrunched his face at the thought of where it might have gotten wet. “No, Fala’s mother was my sister. So you don’t have to worry about that. Maybe you were my mother.” He was so helpful.
“Okay, you realize you can never touch me again, and that whole leering hungrily at my breasts takes on a whole new meaning.”
He read the paper floating in front of him and laughed. “I didn’t think about that. And I don’t look at your breasts hungrily. I’m a leg and ass man.”
“You’re putting me to sleep with that fairy tale. You’re a boob man all the way. Ass is second and legs are third.”
Angel was shocked she had him pegged. But he wasn’t about to let her know she was right. He pulled the meat cleaver from the front door frame and prodded, “Just how do you know that?”
“Simple moron. You stare at my boobs coming and you stare at my ass going. And I’ve caught you more times than I can count looking at my cleavage instead of my eyes when I’m talking to you. Why do you think I wear all those low-cut shirts anyway? Because you like my teeth?”
He rolled up a ball of twine while he read. “That’s not proof of which I prefer. I never said I didn’t like breasts, just that they weren’t my first choice. And what sane man wouldn’t look at your cleavage if given the opportunity? Do you really wear that stuff for me?”
“If you want to keep pretending I’m wrong, fine. Whatever. But once I get back I’ll prove I’m right. And, I wear what I wear for me first and only secondly for whomever I feel deserves me.”
He stopped sweeping when he read that last line. “And that would be me? You feel I deserve you?” He heard pounding in his ears like the heartbeat he didn’t have. He waited and waited what seemed a lifetime for the next words to appear on the page.
“Are you going to answer the door, dufus? Or are you just going to stand there and drool some more?”
Scene 6
The atmosphere changed from the Angel and Soul Cordy flirt festival to one of a funeral home with the arrival of her body. When they rolled her in on the gurney, the apartment become suddenly very tiny. A horizontal person takes up so much more floor space than a vertical one.
They moved the dining room table into the kitchen so the portable bed and all the equipment could be set up in its place. Angel would be occupying the bedroom once it was time.
After the staff finished setting up and made sure her vitals were stable, Angel instructed them to leave but stay close by in case they were needed. Once they were gone, Angel watched as Dennis pulled a soft blanket from a closet and gently covered her, carefully tucking it under all the wires connected to her.
“Thank you, Dennis,” Angel said. He went to her side and picked up her hand. “Can you feel that, Cordy?”
The pad and pen appeared before him. “No. I’m not in there, Angel. But don’t stop. I can imagine how it feels.”
He held on and just looked at her. Even though he’d been talking to her soul out of this body for the last eight hours, he still couldn’t believe she wasn’t in there. Dennis created a light breeze to push a strand of hair from her forehead.
“Angel, did you tell someone to bring me some clothes? Because I really hate that cotton bag they’ve got me in right now and the first thing I’m going to want to do is take that off.”
“Oh, damn, I’m sorry. I forgot about clothes. I’ll call Fred right now.” He pulled out his cell and punched the speed dial for Fred just as the door opened and Wesley entered.
“Hello,” Wesley announced. Angel waved him in and the pad of paper sped to his face. Wesley was taken aback by its sudden appearance but watched curiously as Dennis scribbled.
“Congratulations daddy! Imagine the 250 years of Father’s Day presents you’ve missed out on.”
Wesley just frowned. “Love you too, Cordelia. Hello Dennis. Nice to see you again. I don’t suppose we could never mention this again, Cordy.”
“Not likely. And Dennis says hello and back atcha. Wesley, I just want to say thank you for doing this. Angel told me what happened. I’m glad you didn’t give up.”
“Yeah, Wes. Thanks for not giving up. I’m not sure I said that before.” Angel had put his cell back in his pocket and crossed to Wesley to relieve him of some of his packages when he saw Cordy’s message.
“You’re both welcome, although I did give up and I’m not proud of it. But, no matter, because Cordelia had a vision, Dennis gave us the message and the Powers That Be have seen fit to provide us with a small miracle. Said miracle should be here any moment, and I need to begin setting up.”
Wesley set his bag on the floor and stepped just outside the door while Angel carried his parcel into the kitchen. “Frank! Sam! Bring the rest of the equipment up. And don’t forget the heavy chains.”
That last part was yelled into the intrigued face of Angel’s neighbor, Scott, who’d just come home for lunch. He stared at Wesley as he passed and winked. Wesley just grinned uncomfortably and said, “Yes, that’s right. Chains. Perhaps you’d like to drop by later for a little test run.”
“Love to. And who should I oil my whip for?”
“Angel. Just ask for Angel.” Wesley went back into the apartment and closed the door. The message was in his face immediately.
“You are my hero. Dennis.”
“I doubt Scott or Angel will feel the same. I wish I could see it, though,” Wesley whispered.
“I’ll take notes.”
“Thank you, Dennis. You really are very thoughtful.”
“Who’s thoughtful?” Angel asked as came from the kitchen sipping from a cup of freshly warmed blood that Wesley had brought with him.
“Oh, Dennis is. He just offered to carry this bag into the kitchen for me.” The bag lifted and teetered in mid air and then floated gracefully out of sight.
“So are we set, Wes? Did you bring everything we need?”
“Yes, I believe so. The guys are bringing up the rest including the chains. How’s Cordy doing? Her body I mean.”
“She seems fine.” Angel was interrupted by knocking at the door. Wesley turned and opened it to allow the rest of the W&H team in followed by Fala and Tekla.
Angel and Wesley greeted them with warm smiles. Angel set his cup of blood down and proceeded to shake Tekla’s hand and Wesley followed suit.
Fala spoke sensing their discomfort at what to say next. “Wesley, is everything here? We should review the ritual before the others arrive.”
“Yes, of course. I thought we would set up in here.” Wesley indicated the living room and he and Fala disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve the necessary items.
Angel realized he was alone with Tekla and tried to think what would be the proper thing to say to a woman he didn’t know who used to be his sister but doesn’t remember him being her brother. The pad flew in his face and Tekla was startled.
“Ask your sister to come in and sit down, dumb ass.”
“Huh? Oh! Please come in. Have a seat, and don’t mind the flying paper. It’s just Cordy speaking through her ghost.”
“Oh, I see. But, no thank you, I can’t. I’m just dropping Fala off. She explained to me the ceremony and the purpose, and I can’t intrude. It’s a family matter. But here’s my number…two numbers actually. Call me when Fala’s done, and I’ll pick her up.”
“We can bring her home when we’re done. It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“Oh, okay. But call first, because I may be out picking up some things to patch up Fala’s room.”
Angel felt totally stupid. And inadequate and selfish. Here this woman was trusting him with her daughter, who was doing them the biggest favor anyone could ask, they’d totally destroyed part of her house in the fighting, and now she was expected to go to Home Depot and buy her own replacement windows and install them.
“I’m sorry. I should have…this is completely…” Exasperated by his own verbal fumbling, he finally stopped, calmed himself and made his point. “Let me help. You’re doing so much for us. I’ll make a call right now and have her room back to normal before she gets home.”
“You don’t have to…really? Because that would be a big relief.” Tekla couldn’t believe her good fortune. She and Fala barely scraped by and the thought of the expense and work involved in repairing all the damage had weighed on her heavily today.
“Oh, absolutely. Why don’t you go home and my guys will be there in 30 minutes.”
“Okay!” For the first time since he’d met her, she smiled and Angel caught a tiny glimpse of Kate. His lungs involuntarily sucked in a small bit of air at the unexpected sight.
“Thank you, Angel. I appreciate it. Good luck. Fala, goodbye sweetheart. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye mommy.” She waved to her as Tekla left and closed the door.
Angel stared at the closed door for a second and then was distracted by the note Dennis placed in front of him.
“That was really nice, big guy. I’m proud of you. I guess W&H is good for something after all.”
“Thank you and you’ll find they’re good for lots of things. Like all the designer clothes you could ever want.” He flipped open his cell one more time and called his secretary. As he told her what he wanted, another message floated by.
“You are so not tempting me with that, Satan’s toady. Although I will be needing a few modest outfits. Nothing special. Perhaps something vintage. In red silk preferably. Surprise me. You’re so good at buying women’s clothes. Damn! I caved already.”
Angel finished the call and was about to gloat when the rest of the family arrived. As soon as he saw them all, he began to feel anxious. He had been having so much fun with Cordy, he’d forgotten the seriousness of what was about to happen.
He was about to lose his soul…again. And, whether or not she came back to him, to them all, depended on whether he could help heal her. His chest tightened followed by every muscle in his body. Whoever listens to these kinds of things, please listen now. Give me the strength to save her. After that, I don’t care what you do with me.
Scene 7
“Comfy?”
“Oh, yeah, Wes. Where do you buy your chains? They’re so soft and cuddly. Not at all restraining, heavy or reminiscent of other torture devices I’ve known.”
“There’s a new place in Noho. Victoria’s Secret Chamber. I’ll give you the number.”
Angel grinned and struggled to test them one more time. He was satisfied there was no way he’d get out. “Okay. I’m ready. Hit me with the good stuff.”
The doctor was about to inject him with the tranquilizer when Dennis flashed a message in front of him.
“Angel, you don’t have to do this. I’m scared.”
“I’m not, Cordy. And I want to.”
“And if you can’t get back?”
“Then we’ll be floating in the ether together which doesn’t sound scary or horrible to me, and Wes will stake my ass. I don’t really see a downside.”
“Now I’m really scared. Do I have to float around with you forever?”
Angel just smiled. Still covering up her true fears with jokes. “Okay, maybe there’s a downside for you. Sorry.”
He turned his head to the doctor with the needle. “Let’s do it.”
As the liquid entered his body and the delicious darkness fell over his eyes, he promised, “See you soon, Cor.”
Wesley made sure he was under and confirmed it with the doctor before ordering him to leave. Heading back into the living room to join the others, he was stopped by another message.
“Don’t let him die, Wesley. No matter what happens, he doesn’t die. Got it?”
He was about to argue with the pad of paper, but thought it pointless. He knew he wouldn’t be able to give up on Angel if anything went wrong any more than he could give up on Cordelia. “Message received, Cordelia. I won’t let anyone die.”
“I’m hugging you right now whether you like it or not.”
He knew it was just his imagination, but he thought he could feel her warm arms wedge themselves between his hanging limbs and torso and wrap around his waist, and the weight of her head against his chest just where it should be. He held the sensation for a few seconds longer than he would have allowed in real life, before composing himself and entering the ceremonial ground of the living room.
The room was ready. The shades were down and drapes drawn, and candlelight bathed the room in an amber glow. Fala stood in the middle of the room with a small pedestal table. On the table was a hand-thrown earthen bowl containing the ingredients required. All of the herbs and roots were traditional healing varieties and were nestled in fresh soil. Beside the bowl was a carafe of water, another small bowl with salt and matches.
The furniture had been either removed or pushed back as far as possible to reveal enough space for the rest of the soul team to sit in a circle surrounding Fala. Wesley sat with his back to the picture window, Fred on his left with her back to the front door, Gunn was opposite him seated closest to the bedroom, and Lorne on Wesley’s right facing away from the fireplace.
Fala had directed where they should sit and explained the importance of each one. “Wesley, you are north and winter. You are the compass that guides and blanket that covers the family and keeps them directed and bound. Fred, you are east and spring. You are the hope of new day and the vessel of creation. Gunn, you are south and summer. You are the equator, the center fulcrum that balances the light and the dark. Lorne, you are west and autumn. You are the peace at the end of day and the harvester of life.”
Yeah, whatever. Gunn couldn’t give a rat’s ass about all this crap. All he cared about was the fact that she had put him in the best place to accomplish his mission. Of course, little miss saves-a-lot-of-souls had no clue she’d just helped him take one. Make that two. His satisfied grin turned grim when he felt that prickling sensation on the back of his neck again. This time he knew the source and looked up to see Fala’s cool gaze trained on him.
She didn’t blink or bend from her stony stance as she asked, “Gunn, are you ready to do this?”
There was an edge to her question. A double edge that should have worried him, but his adrenalin-coursed blood was pounding too loudly. It drowned out any subtleties in her voice.
He didn’t hesitate to meet her glare with his steely resolve. “I’m always ready.”
She slowly left his gaze and lifted the matches. The scraping of the match head against the rough edge and the sound of the resultant blaze drew everyone’s attention to the flame. Fala spoke the words known to her for an eternity and dropped the fire onto the parched leaves. The white smoke from the burning herbs and the ancient chant wound around the soul of the sleeping demon. There was no tugging or gut wrenching pangs. The soul left the body like a slow mist rising to reclaim its rightful place in the sun’s rays.
