Part 10
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
Gunn quietly opened the door to Cordelia’s bedroom. It had been an hour since he had given Cordelia the medication. Gunn wanted to see if she was still resting. But when his eyes looked upon the bed and saw nothing, a cold chill radiated through his body. He blindly rushed into the room in a panic.
“Cordelia!” he shouted.
“I’m right here. You don’t need to yell,” she said from behind.
When he turned to face her, Gunn was greeted by a baseball bat connecting with the side of his face. Blood, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a premolar were sent flying across the room as he reeled from the blow. Gunn dropped to a knee as stars filled his eyes.
“Cordelia?” he gasped in confusion.
“Sorry,” she apologized sincerely. “I would say this hurts me more than it hurts you, but then, I’m not the one getting clocked by a bitch with a baseball bat.” Days spent watching Dodger games on TV proved valuable as Cordelia swung and connected across Gunn’s shoulder blades. He let out a quick grunt of pain before dropping to the floor unconscious.
“I heard a shout! Is everything…” Fred trailed off when she noticed Gunn laying on the floor. “Cordelia? What the…”
Cordelia pressed a finger to her lips and said, “Hush now. I have to go find Angel. And since I’m not too keen on hitting other women, how about you lay on the floor like a good Texas girl and play dead?”
“Okay,” Fred squeaked. She dropped to the floor in front of the door and spread her arms like a criminal suspect.
“Not there!” Cordelia said annoyed. “Over here by Gunn!” Fred obeyed and crawled over next to Gunn and played dead. Cordelia dropped the baseball bat aside and reached behind the door and picked up her duffle and the baby’s diaper bag. With a last look she turned to Fred and said, “I’m going to leave now. I don’t want you following me for a bit, so how about you count pi to one hundred decimal places before getting up?”
“Just to one hundred? I can go up to…never mind,” Fred said off Cordelia’s stern look. “Have a safe trip.”
Cordelia merely rolled her eyes. She went downstairs and set her bags by the door. She may not know where her car keys were, but she sure as hell knew where Gunn kept his. The baby was already conveniently resting in its car seat on Fred’s desk. Cordelia grabbed the handle and then found Gunn’s truck keys on his desk.
“Ready for a road trip, sweetheart?” The baby smiled up at mommy and blew bubbles. “That’s my baby doll. Now come on. We gotta go find daddy.”
It took two trips to the car to load everything, but within fifteen minutes, mother and child were on the road to Sunnydale.
***
Angel looked over the letter he had just written with trepidation. He briefly considered crumpling it up and throwing in the wastebasket. Before he could do so, Angel forced himself to stuff the letter into an envelope and seal it. He then quickly scrawled the name of the recipient on it.
“Hey Wes,” he called. “Can you come over here for a moment?”
A few moments later Wesley limped into the dining room and took a seat at the table next to Angel. He sat stiffly in the chair. The morning’s battle didn’t leave him much flexibility in his back.
“What’s going on, Angel?”
Angel set the envelope on the table and pushed it towards Wesley. “I want you to give that to her. You know. If something happens to me.”
Wesley picked up the envelope and sighed. Across the front was written ‘Cordelia’. “Angel. Nothing is going to…”
“Something might,” Angel interrupted. “And if it does, then I want Cordelia to have that. I could say more in person, but if Merrick does beat me, then I at least want Cordelia to read that.”
Wesley scratched his chin and tossed the letter back on the table. “You speak as if you assume I’ll even survive this fight.”
The envelope skidded to a stop in front of Angel. “Are you saying you won’t give it to her?”
“I’m saying that if anyone has a chance of surviving this it’s going to be you. I can say for certain that you won’t need that letter. You can talk to her yourself.”
Angel picked up the envelope and set it on top a pile of books. “I’m going to leave this here. If I don’t need it, then I don’t need it. But in case I do…” he trailed off. He didn’t give Wesley a chance to argue further. Angel stood and went into the kitchen. He saw Willow, Emma, and Kayla hard at work.
“How’s it coming?” he asked.
On the stove was a Crock Pot. Willow stood next to the stove and gently stirred the contents with a wooden spoon. Emma and Kayla were next to her and chopping up various herbs on the counter.
“It’s coming along nicely,” Willow assured. “My sense of smell, however, may be irreparable.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything,” Angel said. It was kind of pungent.
“It smells like hot shit,” Emma stated bluntly.
“Indeed it does,” Willow agreed. “But this hot shit just may save our butts. Now cut the potty mouth and give me the dildo weed, uh, the dilda weed. Yeah.” Kayla scooped the dilda weed into a small cup and handed it over. Willow dumped it in and stirred. “Should be ready in half an hour. When it’s done I’ll pour it into something that will suit our purposes. I don’t need to rush, do I?”
“No,” Angel assured. “Take your time and get it right. This is too important to screw up in a rush. Anyway, Buffy and I need to come up with the battle plan.”
“I thought we already had a battle plan,” Kayla said. “Isn’t that the whole ‘kill Merrick, rescue Hannah’ thing we came up with?”
Angel managed an amused smile. “There is that. But we still don’t know where Merrick is. When I stilled lived here, I heard rumors that Dumont demons ran a racketeering operation out of the basement of Sunnydale’s old post office. If that’s true then I seriously doubt they’ve moved. They tend to stake claim somewhere and stay.”
“So you guys are going to talk to them? Think you’ll need to resort to violence?”
“God, I hope so.”
Willow turned up the heat a bit on the stove and added a few more herbs. “How’s everyone doing out there?”
“Giles is up and moving around a bit. Buffy and Spike are healing quick. Xander has been conscious for the past hour. Which, for me, is rather unfortunate. Never did like to hear him talk.”
“You should give Xander a break. He’s not the kid you knew in high school.”
“I know. That’s plain to see. He’s a good guy. It’s just too much fun pissing him off. Anyway, we’re going to need him for this fight coming up. That at least will make me respect him. But back to the point, just get the job done right. I need to go do a little work of my own.”
Angel left the girls to do their work. He walked over to the fridge and grabbed a couple of blood packets before heading back into the living room. He found Buffy and Spike sitting on the couch vaguely watching Fox News. Some fired computer programmer evidently went ape-shit and decided to go on a shooting spree in the Valley.
“Nice to see we’re not the only ones with problems,” Angel observed. He tossed one of the blood packets to Spike.
“Yeah,” Buffy said. “The fact we’re not the only people suffering gives me a warm tingly feeling. Dear God, did I just say that?”
Spike twisted the cap from the blood packet and took a swill. “Yup. You did. Welcome to the dark side, Pet.” Spike held the blood up in salute to Angel and said, “I don’t think you gave me this cause you thought me to be hungry. What gives?”
“I need your strength up. The three of us have an errand to run. Soon as the sun goes down, I want us to hit the old post office down on Spring View. I’m pretty sure that’s where the Dumont lair is at.”
“You think that’s where Merrick will be?” Buffy asked.
“Probably not. Dumont gangs typically run several rackets. One of which tends to be real estate. I’m banking their head guy hooked Merrick up with an abandoned piece of property.”
“They won’t willingly give us the location.”
“Yeah. That’s where the sudden burst of violence fits into the equation. I suggest gathering up some favorite weapons and get ready to saddle up. Sunset is in twenty-eight minutes and I want to be out the door the second it goes down.”
“Right.” Spike stood up and moved to go upstairs. To Buffy he asked, “You want the sword or the axe?”
“The sword. You know, the one with the…”
“Frilly handle. I know.” Spike jogged off to fetch the desired weapons.
“Do you want to go up and check out the arsenal?” Buffy asked.
“No. I have what I need in the car. The question is will you be ready to do this. Getting the info won’t be easy. And then we’ll have the big fight on our hands.”
“I’ll be fine,” Buffy assured. “This morning wasn’t the first time I had my ass handed to me. Plus, I’m looking at the Dumont demons like the tune up fight. Kind of like Tyson fighting some nobody before Lewis or Holyfield kicks his ass.”
Angel stared at her blankly a moment before asking, “Was that optimism or pessimism?”
Buffy looked confused as well. “I’m not sure. I did suffer a head injury. Did I mention I suffered a head injury?”
“Yeah, probably. Listen. Just relax for another twenty minutes. Then we’ll head out of here.”
“You’re really itching for a fight, aren’t you?”
“I have anger issues. Killing is therapy.” Angel walked away and went up the stairs just as Spike was coming back down with weapons. Spike handed the frilly sword over to Buffy and glanced at the retreating form of his grandsire.
“Is everything all right?”
“Sure. Just let me say a ‘Thank God’ that Angel isn’t practicing psychiatry.”
***
“Well I’m hot blooded! Check it and see!
I got a fever of a hundred and three!
Come on baby do you do more than dance?
I’m hot blooded, hot blooded!
You don’t have to read my mind!
To know what I have in mind!
Honey you oughta know!
Now you move so fine!
Let me lay it on the line!
I wanna know!
What you’re doin’ after the show!”
The baby murmured happily as mommy sang along with the CD. As soon as Cordelia pulled the beaten old truck onto the highway, she floored the pedal until she was going seventy. Cordelia glanced over at her baby and noticed it was having a jolly time. She gave a goofy grin and tickled its chin.
“You excited, Sweetheart? This is our first mommy/baby road trip. You having fun yet?” The baby obviously was. “We have to do this more often. Tell you what. As soon as we drag Angel back home, the three of us are gonna catch a Dodger game. There’s nothing like Chavez Ravine at night. True, the team sucks since we traded Karros, but that’s beside the point. It’ll be a family thing.
“You heard me right, Little One. I’m hauling that vampire home with me. For too long I was passive. I slunk around feeling sorry for myself. I made a bunch of mistakes. I pushed him away and then just watched as he walked out of my life. Not anymore, though. I’m taking the steps to bring him back in my life. The fact that I stood up to Gunn is a testament to that.
“Not that I’m condoning hitting Uncle Gunn. Violence doesn’t solve all that many problems. It just seems like it does in our business. So I don’t want to see you hitting anybody when you get older, okay?” The baby gurgled in agreement. “But I feel I strayed off topic. What the hell was I talking about?”
“Ddpfft,” the baby sputtered.
“Daddy! That’s right! Thanks, Sweetheart. There will be no more of that passive stuff when it comes to Angel. I’m convinced that’s the reason he left. Well, I tell you what, Pumpkin. The Bitch is Back. It’s long past time that I said ‘man up’ and took back what’s mine. We’re going to Sunnydale, I’m going to find that dumb vampire, and I’m gonna torture him until he loves me again. Vampires dig that stuff you know. And if I torture him and he decides he still doesn’t love me, then I’ll torture him some more just for the hell of it. Because Cordy’s back, darlin’. And no man, dead or alive, walks away after he’s gotten a taste of the Chase. Can I get an Amen on that?”
“Amthpfft!”
“Damn straight, Baby. Now how about I put some Zeppelin in the player? Mommy’s in the mood for a little Kashmir.”
The baby smiled happily at the choice in music and watched as mommy switched out the CD’s. And if the child could read, it would have seen the road sign that said they were eighty miles from Sunnydale. And at the rate that mommy was driving, they’d be seeing daddy shortly after sunset.
***
Merrick eyed the flashing box warily. He certainly didn’t understand the appeal of it, but the four Dumont demons were huddled around it enthusiastically. Lenny stood up and began to twist some wiring on top of the box. The other three cooed that it was an improvement.
“This thing is called a tele-vision?” Merrick asked.
“Yes,” Frank answered vaguely.
Merrick nodded and continued to observe a Sheriff Andy Taylor deal with some drunken fellow. The demons cackled as the drunkard rode into the office on a cow. “And this device is for entertainment purposes?”
“Entertainment and information,” Frank stressed. “You got shows, movies, sports, and news. If you got a satellite dish, you can even get the Spice Channel.”
“Spice…Channel?”
“Yeah. You know, with the T&A.”
“T and A?” Merrick was absolutely confused. But he decided it wasn’t important that he understood. Merrick turned away from the ghastly box. He walked across the abandoned building to a pile of blankets. Curled up in the old comforters was an unconscious Hannah.
Merrick knelt down beside the young girl and observed her quietly. His normally harsh gaze actually softened as he breathed in her scent. He reached down and gently brushed away the hair that covered her face. Merrick smiled slightly and decided it was time for her to wake up. He gently placed his left hand on her forehead. A soft glow radiated beneath his palm, and a few moments later, Hannah’s sharp green eyes opened and tried to focus. As soon as they did, Hannah jumped back fearfully.
“Baratu vocai munor…”
Merrick waved his hand and said, “Stop that.” The Latin chant Hannah began evaporated from her lips. “That’s just not proper. I bring you to my safe house and you give thanks by trying some spell on me. Tsk, tsk. I can’t have that.”
Hannah clutched at one of the blankets and eyed Merrick warily. “What do you want from me?”
“Besides the obvious? Absolutely nothing. In all honesty, the power that you can give me is secondary at this point. But making Angel suffer, however, is very important to me. And you are a means to that end. I’ve waited generations to get even with that boy. You see, it’s all so perfect. I satisfy my manly urges, get loads of power, and then destroy a lifelong enemy emotionally and then physically. It’s quite lovely.”
“What makes you think Angel will even care about me?”
Merrick laughed. “There are several reasons. The vampire has a pesky soul. Beings inflicted with such a disease typically recoil at the suffering of the innocent. Why, if I steal your power, there are hundreds of nasty things I could do. The least of which would be ripping this Hellmouth we sit atop of wide open.” Merrick paused as he considered what he just said. “Note to self: After I absorb the energies I should rip the Hellmouth open.” He smiled at Hannah. “I have so many moments of inspiration.”
“How about you inspire to shut the fuck up? If you’re gonna rape me would you at least have the decency to just do it and not bore me to death by talking?”
Merrick’s smile instantly disappeared. “Bite your tongue, bitch, or I’ll do it for you. Now, if I may continue. I’ve done my research on Angel. He seems to be a sucker for a pretty face. It’s what led to him becoming a vampire. It’s what led to him screwing a Slayer. Truth be told, darling, it’s what led him to helping your great-grandmother. He probably thought getting rid of me would help in getting a piece of ass.”
“That’s not true.” Hannah denied.
“Of course it isn’t, darling,” Merrick mocked. “Because we both know that Angel is a creature of pure innocence.
***
Angelus crashed hard into the wall and fell to the floor in a ragged heap. As he slowly pulled himself up to a kneeling position, Angelus eyed the Blade of Hefnar. It lay a good twenty feet away. Far out of reach. It didn’t help that the Beast stood in the way of making a dash for it. But instead of moping about the situation, Angelus began to cackle madly.
“I haven’t had this much fun since Munich in 1889. There was a worker’s riot that lasted four days. Let me tell ya, nobody riots better than the Krauts. Although these American fuckers ain’t bad either. That Rodney King shit was awesome. Wish I could have been here for that.”
Angelus needed to grip the wall to help him stand up. He wiped away the blood that poured from his nose. Undaunted as the Beast slowly walked towards him, Angelus merely looked up and smirked.
“How’s it hanging, Ugly?” Angelus looked down at the crotch area of the Beast. “Damn! It isn’t hanging at all!” Angelus grinned mischievously. “Don’t tell me the Big Bad is actually a Sheila! Tell ya what, Sweetheart. How about we drop the fisticuffs and I’ll take you out for a Sundae? Nothing’s too good for my girl.”
The Beast gripped Angelus by the coat collar and rammed him into the wall. Angelus felt a nasty wound open up on the back of his head. He didn’t mind so much. After all, the Beast twirled Angelus around and threw him across the warehouse…and right next to the Blade of Hefnar.
“Dumb fuck,” Angelus grunted. The vampire reached out and clutched the blade in one bloody hand. “I gotta finish this quick or I’m gonna get seriously dead.”
Angelus used the sword as a cane to push himself to a standing position. A mental shot of courage later and Angelus leveled the sword at the Beast’s chest and charged.
