Part 6
SATURDAY AFTERNOON
“So who is she?”
Angel’s head snapped up from the picture of Cordelia to see Hannah leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom. He looked away quickly in embarrassment at having been caught off guard. He snapped his wallet shut and tossed it aside.
“What makes you think it’s a she?”
Hannah smiled slightly as she moved into the room. “Lucky guess. Actually, I’d be fairly disturbed if that pensive face was over a photograph of a guy.” She was pleased when he laughed out loud. “I have a feeling you haven’t been doing that much lately.” Off his questioning look she clarified. “Laugh. And I’m going to guess it’s the girl that’s to blame for that.”
Angel scooted over slightly to give Hannah more room to sit down. He sighed slightly as he tried to formulate a response. “She is somebody that used to be really important to me. Some things have happened and now I’m trying to figure out what she is to me at this point.”
“Was she a lover?”
“Not using the historically defined meaning of the word, no.”
“A friend?”
“The best.” The two fell silent for several moments. Angel was surprised by how comfortable he felt just sitting here with this girl. “So, how are things going downstairs?”
“Things are…interesting,” Hannah smiled. “That Xander fellow and Spike are macking up a storm on Kayla and Emma. They don’t pay Xander any mind, but I think both are intrigued by the fact that Spike doesn’t require oxygen, if you understand what I mean.”
A twisted visual image entered Angel’s mind. “Yeah, I catch the meaning. That definitely sounds like Spike.”
“A chip off the old block?”
“Good Lord, no. I’ve been known to exercise more tact than my boy downstairs.”
“So you’ve never been known to, uh, hold your breath on occasion?” she teased.
“Well,” Angel grinned, “perhaps on occasion. But unlike Spike, I pride myself on being multi-faceted.” Good God, was he flirting with her?
“Interesting.” Was she flirting with him? Angel suddenly felt the need to divert the conversation in a business direction.
“How is the research coming along?”
“Pitifully. Willow is turning up diddly-squat on the Internet. And despite Mister Giles’ impressive collection of antique demonology volumes, we seem to be hitting a brick wall. And so it all comes back to you. The most definitive source on Necklar demons and of Merrick is sitting here before me.”
“And was I ever afraid to hear that.” The tone of the conversation lost the playful edge. Angel suddenly found himself missing it.
“Seriously Angel. This all comes down to you. As much as I appreciate the aid and hospitality that your friends have offered, I didn’t come here for them. I came here for you. You were our clan’s savior all those years ago. And now, as our clan is on the brink of annihilation, it’s clear to see that you must be our savior again.”
“I’m not a savior, Hannah,” Angel said softly. “I’m a demon. To put your faith in me might be the last mistake you make. I tend to disappoint mightily when people count on me.”
“My great-grandmother wasn’t disappointed,” Hannah answered. “You may not hold yourself in high esteem, Angel, but the past three generations of my family have been taught that you were nothing short of a Godsend. My grandmother, my mother, and myself grew up hearing tales of your heroism and kindness. That you were a dark knight that rode into town and quickly established yourself as the greatest Champion our clan has ever known.”
“That’s a lie.” Angel’s tone turned dark. “I came into town, broken, confused, and hungry. I had just arrived to America and spent a month feeding on rats on the boat ride to New York. By the time I came across your village, I was desperate for food. And then I saw a beautiful young woman with lovely red hair and piercing green eyes, and I couldn’t control my hunger any more. If Sarah hadn’t been who she was, I would have feasted on her and left the body in a ditch. But being the Keeper, she was able to fight me away.”
Angel tried to look away. He was sure that hearing that bit of information would ensure Hannah’s eternal hatred towards him. Angel was surprised by the soft touch of a hand turning his head so that he was forced to look into all too familiar eyes.
“I know about that,” she whispered. “Notice how I referred to you as a dark knight. I fully realize that you are not the epitome of purity. Although Sarah gave an edited version of the story to the general clan, the immediate bloodline received the whole truth. Did that stop me from seeking your help? Did that stop Sarah from entrusting you with the power to defend the clan? It didn’t. Because when I first looked into your eyes, I saw that spark that my great-grandmother always said was in your eyes. I saw the love and caring that lurks in your soul. It was the same thing that she saw all those years ago. It’s what made her fall in love with you.”
Angel didn’t cry often, but at the present time he couldn’t stop the tears from trailing down his cheek. And maybe it was the emotion of the moment, or perhaps it was from a temporary lack of reason, but Angel didn’t shy away when Hannah leaned in closely and gently pressed her lips to his. She tasted sweet and smooth, like a fresh strawberry. Angel vividly remembered the taste. Sarah had the…Shit!
Angel broke the contact to the disappointment of Hannah. “What? Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Angel breathed heavily. “This is wrong. I’m sorry Hannah, this is tempting, incredibly tempting actually. But this isn’t right. I’ve got so many thoughts running through my head right now, and I cannot get a hold of them all. I need time to sort things out, get the clutter out of my mind, and generally un-fuck up my life before I can, well, you know.”
Hannah smiled in understanding. “I’m sorry. I think I took advantage of the situation. Forgive me for that, please. But I want you to know that I meant everything I said to you. You were the savior of this clan once, and in my heart, I know that you will be again.” Hannah stood up. She stroked Angel’s cheek lightly before turning and leaving the room.
After she left, Angel fell backward onto the bed. Covering his face in shock, Angel spoke to the room. “What the hell was that?” Angel had come to Sunnydale in hopes to solve his problems and end the confusion. But every hour seemed to produce yet another situation that he had to come to terms with.
He looked up at the ceiling in confusion and wondered vaguely if he should retrieve his bottle of whiskey.
“I so do not need this shit right now.”
***
The group wound their way through the tunnels beneath the Los Angeles streets. A small amount of light found it’s way through cracks and manholes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for them to see the way in which to go.
“We going to right way?” Gunn questioned.
Fred flipped on her Mag-lite and flashed it against the wall. “From the warehouse, go forward, take the second right. Go forward and find the ladder located just past the third tunnel to the left,” she recited. The flashlight crossed the rungs to the desired ladder. “We’re going the right way.”
Gunn stepped past her and moved to the ladder. “I’ll go up first to make sure it’s clear. Fred comes up next, followed by Cordelia and then Connor.” Gunn quickly climbed up and removed the heavy grating blocking the way. Hoisting himself up, he noticed the building they had entered appeared to be clear. He motioned down for the others to follow.
Fred poked her head up moments later, and with Connor supporting her, Cordelia made her way up as well. When Connor crawled up, Gunn was ready to give the order to move. But the look on Cordelia’s face delayed that action.
“Cordy? What’s wrong?” Cordelia began to stare at the floor between her feet in fascination. When Gunn saw what held her attention, his jaw dropped in shock. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
Fred gazed down to the floor. She echoed Gunn’s sentiments. “Now?!”
Connor was in the dark. “What? What did I miss?”
“My water just broke.”
A vague sense of understanding crossed Connor’s face. “Oh. That’s…untimely.”
“You think?” Cordelia snapped. “Giving birth during the apocalypse was not on my list of things to do!” Her face contorted in pain. “Ow! Contraction! Will somebody get off their ass and give me a hand here!” Connor and Fred immediately jumped to aid her, but Gunn’s attention was drawn to the hole from which they immerged minutes earlier. Gunn was prepared to strike when he heard a familiar voice cursing.
“Dammit, Watcher-boy! I’m going as fast as I can!” Faith emerged from the hole. The Urn of Lordoth was safely contained in a duffle bag slung over her shoulder. Reaching down, she offered a hand down to Wesley.
“The hell you are! Now stop lollygagging! We must meet up with…” Wesley’s voice trailed off as he poked his head from the hole and noticed that the gang was still in the building. “What’s wrong? Why are you still here?”
“We ran into a problem,” Gunn stated.
“That would be?”
“My water broke.”
Wesley pulled himself up to his feet and stared at her blankly. “Bloody hell, woman! Of all the times in the world to go into labor, you decide on now?”
“Never let it be said I don’t have a flair for the dramatic.”
“Dramatic? Add the prefix melo to that, Cordelia, and it may be a more accurate description.”
“Thank you, Wesley. Next time I go into labor at a less than optimal time, I’ll try to remember the best descriptive phrase. Moving beyond the grammatical lesson, what do you propose we do about the impending birth thing?”
“Hospital,” Fred insisted.
“No,” Wesley refuted. “Los Angeles is experiencing city wide blackouts, mass hysteria, and hundreds of other symptoms synonymous with an apocalypse. A leading symptom being an influx of patients at the hospitals.”
“So what do you propose?” Gunn asked. “Ask her nicely not to push?”
“Not fucking happening!” Cordelia grunted. The increasing labor pains forced Cordelia to her knees. “Can we reach a solution, please?”
“I thought first children took a while to be born,” Fred said worriedly.
“Leave it to Cordelia to break tradition.” Wesley crossed over and scooped Cordelia up into his arms. “We go upstairs to a main floor. Find someplace clean and gather whatever supplies we can.”
Gunn wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “Number one: shouldn’t we be moving somewhere else? Big, bad, and ugly is fighting the Scourge of Europe just a couple blocks away. Shouldn’t we clear out?”
“Faith?” Wesley questioned. Faith removed the remote viewer from her jacket and observed the battle. “How’s Angelus doing?”
Faith smiled hesitantly. “It’s still early,” she assured.
“Great,” Gunn moaned. Turning to Wesley, he asked his second question. “You’re not planning on delivering this baby yourself, are you?”
“It crossed my mind.”
“What?!” Cordelia exploded. She began to squirm fiercely within Wesley grasp. “What the hell makes you think I would let you?”
Wesley gazed down at the woman in his arms. “What makes you think there are any other viable options available?” Cordelia grunted occasionally at the labor pain, but she didn’t put up any further fight. Gunn, however, didn’t want to drop this.
“You turned over Connor when he was a baby! What the hell makes you think I’ll let you near enough to Cordelia’s child?”
“Gunn!” Cordelia snapped. “Back off!” She cast a quick glance up at Wesley. Softening her voice she said, “This is his call. We’re going to have to trust him.”
Gunn nodded obediently, but the harsh look he sent Wesley plainly informed the ex-Watcher what would happen if he fucked up. Wesley took it all in stride, merely gazing around the basement for a moment and asking, “Now, where are the stairs?”
***
Wesley decided not to comment when Hannah reappeared downstairs looking upset. He supposed he probably should, but decided that Angel would need to deal with the situation himself. Of course, if Angel didn’t come to the correct choice, Wesley would beat the hell out of him. He didn’t come to Sunnydale just so Angel could get his rocks off with some witch he didn’t know.
Emma and Kayla seemed to notice their friend’s distress and broke away from the conversation with Spike to be with her. Wesley took one of the vacated chairs and pulled up next to Willow and observed her working on the laptop. They were both startled by the sound of his cell phone ringing.
“Hello? Oh Diana. Have you anything? Really? Not even in McCollum’s unabridged version? How about the Gustafson Manifests? How about the…Not there either, huh? Isn’t that the proverbial bitch? No, that’s quite all right. I appreciate the effort. What? Oh, I’m away on business at the moment. Only a few days hopefully. I’m sure after this ordeal is concluded I can swing by. I’d be delighted to assist you with your studies. I’m sure after a few hours with me that you’ll get the thrust of it. Until then. Goodbye.”
Willow looked at him strangely for a moment. She was fairly sure the last half on the conversation wasn’t business related. “Who was that?”
“Doctor Diana Barton,” Wesley answered as he snapped the phone shut. “She is a professor of Medieval History at USC. However, her interests range into several areas. I asked her to look into several volumes I know she owns for information regarding Necklar demons. She turned up nothing we don’t already know.”
“Wonderful,” Willow mused. She clicked on the Favorites bar on her laptop and pulled up the online Sunnydale Gazette. Even though she wanted a reprieve from her vigorous research, Willow knew that oftentimes the newspaper was a valid resource in finding potential demonic activity. As it often did upon peering at the web page, Willow’s brows rose at a headline.
“Kamy Taylor was killed.”
Wesley glanced offhandedly at the young brunette girl on the monitor. “Who?”
“Kamy Taylor,” Willow stated. “I knew her. She was a local Wicca. I always thought she was cute.” Wesley raised an eyebrow. “What? Gay, remember?”
“Of course.”
Willow turned her focus back to the screen. She clicked on the Favorites bar again and entered the Sunnydale Police Department’s website. “You may want to look away. What I’m about to do isn’t entirely legal.” She turned to find Wesley skimming her copy of Victoria Secret’s spring catalogue. Willow blushed mightily. “I have it because I think the lingerie is pretty.”
“Sure you do.” Wesley’s voice conveyed his disbelief. Willow snatched the magazine away.
“I don’t have to justify myself to you,” she defended. Willow carefully placed the magazine aside and resumed her hacking.
“Judging from what pages I saw dog-eared, you and I have the same tastes in women. I find that disturbing somehow.”
Willow would have retorted if she hadn’t been engrossed by Kamy Taylor’s autopsy report. That was very strange. “Electrolytes were down,” she whispered to herself. “So are glucocorticoids.” Willow paused as she contemplated that information. Wesley occupied himself with a Playboy that had Willow’s name as the addressee. “Hey Hannah!”
Hannah looked up from her spot on the couch at the redhead. “Yes?”
“Could you precisely remember the route you took to get to Sunnydale?”
Hannah furrowed her brow in confusion and curiosity. Sharing a look with Emma and Kayla, Hannah answered, “Yeah. I think we could tell you.”
“Good. Xander?” Xander looked up from his demonology book. “In the cabinet beneath the bookshelf is a road atlas. Could you get it?” He nodded that he could and went to retrieve it.
Wesley turned his focus away from Miss April and onto the computer screen. “Willow? What did you find?”
“Maybe nothing,” she shrugged. “I just want to do a little more digging before I say anything.”
Wesley was about to argue when his cell phone rang again. Tossing the Playboy aside, he pulled the phone from his pocket and answered. “Hello? Oh, it’s you. Hold on a moment.” He stood up and moved into the kitchen.
Buffy and Dawn sat at the counter eating from plastic cups of pudding and studying some papers. They paid him no mind as he opened the door to the basement and went downstairs. Now alone, Wesley put the phone back to his ear.
“Gunn, I’m here. Is something wrong with Cordelia?”
“Damn, for a Brit you tend to display lousy manners. Didn’t anyone ever instruct you about proper telephone etiquette at Watcher school?”
“No. Between courses in being a pompous wanker and Bad Teeth 101, there simply wasn’t time for such instruction. Why are you calling?”
Pause. “Cordelia is getting antsy.”
“Antsy?”
“You got straight A’s in Pompous Wanker, didn’t you? She’s getting antsy. Agitated. Whatever. Point is, she’s looking for action.
“Action?”
“Not that kind. Pull your head out of the gutter. She wants to get out and find Angel.”
“Did you explain to her that there is nothing she can do until I call with information?”
“Yeah, but that is barely holding her back. She’s really jonesing for Angel, Wes. If you don’t bring her boy back soon, I’m worried what may happen.”
Wesley sighed. “Tell her I called with a progress report. Say I’m following a lead in Northern California. Tell her there have been stories of a dark cloaked man rescuing damsels in distress. That should pacify her for the moment.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Drug her food. You still have the Valium I gave you, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Mix it with her drink or food at supper. If the Valium doesn’t calm her down enough, look up Doctor Olivia Tate in the phonebook. Tell her I sent you. Ask her for a prescription for Clorazepate. Better yet, ask her for Triavil. It’s a good anti-depressant as well as a tranquilizer.”
He heard Gunn’s grunt of frustration. “No matter how comfortable you are with it, I don’t like lying to Cordelia. I also don’t like the idea of drugging her.”
“I understand that, Gunn, but I don’t want her in Sunnydale. The best thing for her is to be kept safe in Los Angeles.”
“Something bad is happening up there, isn’t it?”
“It could get ugly,” Wesley admitted. “A bad ass demon is looking to cause trouble by tapping into a power source.”
“The Hellmouth?”
“A girl. I made a deal with Angel. I help him stop this demon, he comes back to LA without a fight.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Well, it isn’t. Just keep Cordelia there. I promised her that I would bring Angel back to her and I intend to follow through. I’ll call later.”
“Fine. And Wes?”
“Yeah?”
“Take care of yourself. And make sure you bring Angel back in one piece.”
“I will. Goodbye.” Wesley disconnected the phone. The last thing he needed was Cordelia to get over anxious and start becoming a hassle. She certainly didn’t need to be in Sunnydale. Not with this trouble brewing. Wesley only hoped this problem was resolved quickly. Somehow, with the luck this group historically had, Wesley doubted that would happen.
***
Gunn tapped lightly on the bedroom door. Listening closely, he heard Cordelia’s voice call him in. Entering the room, Gunn was surprised to not find Cordelia in her customary perch by the window. Instead she sat at the corner desk typing away at her laptop. The baby was in its crib snoring softly.
By the desk was an old phonograph. It had recently been stowed away in the Hyperion basement. Angel used to go downstairs and listen to his old records on it. Cordelia had always made a point to tease him about his ‘old fogy’ music. She used to say that it was the twenty-first century, so stop listening to the antiquated crap and crank up some Chili Peppers.
Those days seemed long gone. Cordelia had insisted that the phonograph be hauled up to her room. Gunn had obliged because it seemed that having Angel’s belongings near had a calming effect on her. So now, as Gunn tentatively crept towards her, the sound of Classical music invaded his ears. While he certainly wasn’t an aficionado, Gunn was starting to distinguish between composers.
“Bach?” Cordelia never diverted her focus from the computer, but she did nod her head and confirm his guess. “The Goldberg Variations?” Another nod. “You seem to like this one. Any reason why?”
“It soothes me,” Cordelia answered. She felt Gunn’s presence grow near. She shut the laptop before Gunn could see what she was doing. “It’s predictable, but at the same time, each variation has its own subtle differences to make it unique. There is a controlled randomness to it. But inside the randomness is a familiarity the listener always keeps in sight.” Her lips quirked in a slight smile. “I know it was one of Angel’s favorites, too.”
“Of course it was.”
Cordelia propped her elbow on the desk and rested her chin in her hand. She turned that cool analytical glare she had developed on him. Gunn called it her ‘Eye of God’ because it was her all-seeing look.
“You sometimes sound like him, you know that?”
“Like who?” Gunn asked curiously.
“Wesley.” She genuinely laughed at his grimace. “I actually intended for that to be a compliment. You like to pretend you’re a bad ass. Someone who kills first and asks questions later. The same attitude that Wesley has developed. Same notes but a subtle variance. Wesley has gone from brains to brawn. You’ve gone from brawn to brains. Different avenues but the same meeting point.”
Gunn just stared at her blankly for a moment. “You sure there was a compliment in all that?”
Cordelia laughed again. “I’m saying that you’ve become more than the one dimensional demon ass kicker that I first met. During the battles with the Beast you displayed some amazing insight. And your questioning of why I prefer the Goldberg Variations demonstrates analytic ability. You’re a well rounded man, Charles Gunn.”
Gunn’s expression turned from confused to amused. “Are you coming on to me?” he teased lightly.
“Oh yeah,” Cordelia responded in the same manner. “Now, I’m sure you didn’t come up here to discuss Bach with me, or to be compared with Wesley. So spill.”
“Wesley called.” Cordelia slight smile grew into a high wattage grin. Gunn was disappointed to know the smile wouldn’t last long. “Before you pack your bags, he just called to say he was following a lead upstate somewhere. Supposedly someone matching your boy’s description has been seen doing the whole dark knight shtick.”
“Where upstate?” Cordelia asked excitedly. She mentally calculated the moves she would need to knock Gunn out and steal his car.
“He didn’t say.” Gunn raised his hands in surrender at Cordelia’s death glare. “I swear to God. He didn’t say the name of the town. I wouldn’t lie to you, Cordelia.”
Cordelia fought to regain control of her emotions. Taking several deep breaths, Cordelia calmed herself enough to give Gunn a disarming smile. “I know you wouldn’t, Gunn. I’m sorry. I’m just overanxious. Forgive me?” She batted her eyelashes for extra effect.
“Yeah,” Gunn smiled. “Now that I can be sure you won’t go off half-cocked, what do you want for dinner? There still some stir fry veggies left from last night. Do you want those?” Cordelia nodded that was fine.
“Okay. I’ll be back in a few. Just make sure you’re not playing any of that damn Wagner when I come back, okay? I don’t like him.” Cordelia laughed softly and watched him leave. As soon as Gunn was gone, her jovial expression and mode melted away.
Gunn was lying to her. Cordelia was sure of that. Wesley did call. He wouldn’t lie about something that simple. But her soul said that Wesley had found her vampire. And although she knew that they both only sought to protect her, Cordelia certainly didn’t appreciate being lied to.
Cordelia lifted the lid of the laptop up. She glanced at some of the responses to her Internet bulletin. Dozens were claiming to have seen the infamous vampire with a soul. Looking at the locations from which the responses were sent from, Cordelia was able to eliminate several of the claims quickly.
She knew that Angel wasn’t a big fan of the Deep South. While he appreciated the Victorian architecture many of the finer buildings tended to possess, he didn’t care for the humidity and high temperatures.
Mexico, however, was a possibility. Angel had on several occasions told her of his adventures south of the border. He liked the fact that a good fight was never further than a saloon away. He also had expressed his appreciation for the local women. While Cordelia shuddered that Angel might take solace with another woman, she couldn’t afford to disavow the possibility. Angel liked Mexico, despite the fact it was full of Catholics.
The reports from the Pacific Northwest and Canada were also possibilities. He had spent a good portion of the thirties and forties in the area. Angel had loved the peace and quiet and wide-open spaces. If he wanted a place to meditate and recuperate, then it was a far more feasible alternative than Tibet.
But then a sudden thought occurred to her. All of this might be a moot point. Everything she might need to find Angel would be accessible to her downstairs. She’d have to be sneaky, but that wasn’t a problem. You don’t hang around a vampire for the better part of seven years without learning something about stealth. But then a whole new set of problems would arise.
Once she had acquired the vital information, she would need to escape Los Angeles quickly and quietly. Gunn would certainly try to stop her. His main way of accomplishing that would be to drug her food. So that would increase the need to switch out the Valium that Wesley had given him with something else. That would require finding something that appeared similar to Valium and sneaking into Gunn’s room and rooting through his sock drawer. Neither should be incredibly difficult. After all, where there was a will, there was a way. And Cordelia had an iron will to be with Angel.
She would have to plan this, but Cordelia was confident she could pull it off. If all went well, she would be face to face with Angel. And whether he liked it or not, they were going to have a little talk. She was bringing him home no matter how much groveling had to be done.
Walking quietly so not to disturb the baby, Cordelia went to her closet and found her duffle bag. First thing to do would be to prepare a bag so she could leave at a moments notice. Then Cordelia could focus on what she would need to do to make her exit.
***
“Oh bloody hell I want some drugs!”
The company CEO would certainly not appreciate the current situation. Cordelia Chase, her skirt pulled up past her waist, laid flat against the cleared off oak desk, her knees bent and legs open. Her fingers were wrapped so tightly around the edges of the desk that her nails were imbedded in the wood.
Wesley, to put it bluntly, was on the receiving end. His sleeves rolled up past his elbows, he barked out orders to the others to retrieve clean linens, water, and rubber gloves.
“Gunn,” he shouted. “Get a pair of scissors and sterilize them.” Wesley reached into his pocket and tossed him a lighter. “I’ll need them to cut the cord.” Gunn set about sterilizing when Fred rushed back into the office.
“I can’t find any rubber gloves!”
“There was a janitor’s closet down the hall. Check there.” Wesley turned his focus back on Cordelia. “How are you holding up?”
“Want…drugs,” she gritted.
“We don’t have any drugs. Now be a good girl and when this is all over I’ll hook you up with some LSD. It will help matters considerably if you remember your breathing exercises.”
“Screw my breathing!”
Wesley sighed. “Charming. Faith? How is the fight going?”
Faith held onto the remote viewer like a child watching Saturday morning cartoons. She visibly cringed at some of the action. “Better,” was all she offered.
Wesley shook his head at the situation. Glancing out the window he was able to see a portion of the building that Angelus and the Beast fought in. The streets were filled with burning cars and people rioting.
“Much like a London soccer riot,” Wesley mused. “Been a while since I’ve seen one of those.”
