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Whose Shanshu?	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 3387 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
“So what happened on patrol tonight?” Dawn chattered as she bustled around her sister. After the others left, she had gone upstairs and gotten pillows and blankets to make Buffy comfortable. No amount of protest or threats from her sister could make her take her up the stairs to her room. Angel had said that Buffy wasn’t to be moved and Dawn was sure he knew best. Dawn could remember lots of times she’d seen Buffy carefully removing bandages after getting in from patrol and hiding them from their mother. She was certain that Angel had been responsible for a lot of the patch-ups.
“Well, the guy who called Faith to kill the demons turned out to be a total liar and a demon himself. So I killed him and left his remains to be snack food for the other demons he sicced us on.”
“Oh. So we didn’t get paid, huh?”
“What?” Buffy’s eyes widened at Dawn’s disappointed tone.
“Well, from what Faith told me about when Angel was running this place, this was a business and I was thinking you could start up here with the demon-hunting and maybe make money. Did you know they even have a website? You could become demon busters just like Angel used to be and I could be a Watcher.”
“Go into demon hunting for hire? What part of tonight’s fiasco did you miss? Besides, I tried that back in Sunnydale and the bank loan manager was so Frosty the Snowman about it, I got a chill.”
“Yeah, but those demons got away.”
“You had to bring that up,” Buffy said wryly. She shifted on the couch as she tried to get comfortable.
Dawn hovered uncertainly for a moment. “So what’s up with you and Angel?”
“What? Nothing’s up. There is no up there. It’s all downhill, Dawn.” Buffy was doing her best to be nonchalant but she could tell Dawn wasn’t buying it.
“How come he doesn’t talk to you unless he absolutely has to? What happened between the two of you when he came to Sunnydale? Does he know about you and Spike?”
Why the hell did her sister have to be so inquiry about everything? “You know, I’m thinking of changing your name to Curious George. You don’t talk to people so much as interrogate them.”
Dawn wasn’t going to be put off. “Answer the question.”
Buffy decided to seize on the question that would cause the least debate. “Nothing happened when he came to Sunnydale. He came, I sliced Caleb like a piece of sushi and then he gave me the info and magical amulet. I sent him back here. End of story.”
“So why’s he Mr. Freeze? You could ice skate whenever the two of you are together now. Is it because of Spike? Did he find out? Does he…hate you because of that?”
That was Buffy’s very fear. But she had to reassure her sister; she wasn’t sure why. “No. He doesn’t hate me. He just doesn’t understand about Spike.”
“And so say all of us,” Dawn said with a narrow look. “And don’t give me the ‘he’s got a soul’ bit ‘cause I’ve heard it. Soul or no soul, Spike was still zoning in on you. Souled-chipless Spike not much different from the unsouled-chipped variety.”
Buffy’s lips tightened but she forged on. “What part of Spike giving up his life to save the world did you not get, Dawn? Anyway, I didn’t really get to explain everything that had gone on in my life since the last time Angel and me saw each other. We had an enemy to fight and…Angel and I made our peace. He doesn’t get Spike but he doesn’t have to. It’s all in the past anyway.”
“So you’d really choose Angel over Spike then?”
“I’m not choosing anyone,” Buffy countered. “I told Angel that I’m not finished being ‘me’ yet. Until I figure out who that Buffy is, the last thing I’m going to do is rush into some guy’s arms. That’s a mistake I’ve made way too often in the past. I need to heal, Dawn. We all do. Angel can’t help me with that.”
“Fine. I get it. It’s just…I think he’s hurting. He’s got the same sad look he always used to get around you and just the other night, before you went swimming, you were wearing your Angel face.”
“My Angel face?”
“You know what I’m talking about! You always used to get this moony, swoony look whenever you thought about Angel. Even when you were with Riley, I’d see that look. I always called it your ‘Angel face.’ “
Buffy’s look was knowing as she smirked at her younger sister. “I remember. As I seem to recall, you always made these stupid gagging noises whenever you saw it.”
“Hey, you were so wound up in him it was like you couldn’t see straight. I wondered why you didn’t walk into walls, you were so dippy.”
Buffy smiled only to have the expression fade away. “That was a long time ago, Dawnie. A lot can happen in three years.”
Dawn sniffed and plopped down on the edge of the couch. “I’ll say. Spike decides he’s crazy about you and totally forgets his skank girlfriend Drusilla whom he slummed around with for almost 120 years. You swing from Angel to Parker to Riley to Spike like you’re some sort of band groupie. I guess Angel’s the only one to remain faithful. Makes me sorry I had to dust Justin,” she added with a sigh.
“Justin didn’t have a soul. He probably would have just ripped your throat out.”
Dawn grinned. Buffy was so easy to tease sometimes. She was like the world’s best straight man. “Just kidding. It’s just I saw the way you were with Angel. He made you happy even though you seemed unhappy. You were never like that with Spike. You were obsessed with him in a way that was mundo unhealthy and I’ve got the scar to prove it.” Dawn pointed up at the faint white line above her right eyebrow from where Spike had hit her with a cot on one of his rampages. “But he didn’t give you the Buffy happies that Angel did even after he picked up that soul.”
“Dawn, you know relationships are complicated and I told you I’m not about that right now. We’re getting out of here in a few days and headed to Cleveland so it’s not important anyway.”
“Oh. Guess that’s fair.” Dawn looked around the open space. When she thought about it clearly, she could see how making a home here wasn’t really possible. Angel couldn’t keep paying their way forever and footing the bills on the place would be a nightmare for Buffy. Maintaining the house in Sunnydale had been a big strain as it was.
Plus, many of the Slayers were talking about returning to their own homes, seeing if they could fight evil in their own hometowns. The sheer size of the empty hotel would make it kinda lonely.
But she considered Los Angeles as being her first home. They had lived here before being shipped off to Sunnydale. Correction. Buffy had lived here. That part of your life is fictional, remember?
So Cleveland would be a place to build a real life and new memories…and, hopefully, it wouldn’t sink into the ground like their last place. Maybe, if they were lucky, they could find someplace with a pool. She sighed again and looked at where her sister lay on the couch.
“I’ll tell the others we need to get packing, then. I just wish…” She cut herself off and looked almost frightened.
“What do you wish, Dawnie?”
“Nothing. If there’s one thing I learned from Sunnydale, it’s never say the ‘w’ word.” Dawn stood and ran up the stairs.
Buffy relaxed into the sofa with a sigh. God, that had to have been the worst part of living in Sunnydale. It robbed you of even the hope of making things better. Good riddance to it. Well, she couldn’t be that blasé about it. It had been her home for seven long years and there were good and bad memories associated with it. Meeting Giles, Xander and Willow, loving Angel…
She snuggled back into the couch and realized with a start that she was still lying on Angel’s coat. She briefly considered pushing it off but decided it was too much trouble. Besides, she liked having it there. It was almost like being in Angel’s arms again.
She could still recall how it felt to have him hold her only scant minutes ago. The feel of his hands on her skin just now and the tender look in his eyes before he pulled away had roused all the old feelings in her, strong as ever.
The memory made her sigh and pull the arms of the coat up and around her. She could smell his hair gel, a woody, musky scent that was his skin and the faint clean odor of Ivory soap. No scented bars for Angel. She smiled and brushed her cheek tenderly against one lapel.
She thought about what Dawn had said. Was that really true about Angel hurting? He’d been jealous back in Sunnydale… But what about Cordelia? Just where did she fit into things?
This is crazy. Cookie dough, remember? Gotta do a lot of baking. Away from here, preferably. We’ll leave tomorrow if Giles is better. She sighed again. If she kept doing that, she was going to use up all the air in the room.
Angel stood near the window, smiling at her. She didn’t recognize the room at all. It was wide, empty save for the two of them, and the window ran from one end to the other. He was standing in the sunlight pouring in through the enormous pane. She should have been terrified but she felt oddly calm as if she knew the sunlight wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen him in sunlight before now.
Wait. When had she seen him in daylight? A faint memory tickled at the edges of her mind. Something forgotten yet mourned like the loss of a loved one teased her…
Her train of thought was interrupted as he walked up to her. “I like your coat.”
She glanced down and saw she was still wearing his leather coat. “It’s yours, actually.”
A flicker of sadness came into his eyes. “Not for much longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“Time’s running out.” It was true. It was getting darker outside. The shadows in the room were getting longer, far too quickly for actual nightfall, and a sense of dread was gathering with them. There was a flare of lightning and rain began lashing at the windows.
“What’s happening? Angel, please talk to me.”
“I would. But you don’t ask. Does it even matter? Believe me, it’s what I wanted for you.”
“What is? Angel, you’re being Cryptic Guy again. I thought we were past all that crap.”
“I wanted you to have sunlight, a family and children. I wanted somebody to give you those things. Now you can have it.” He pressed the blue rattle into her hand. She clutched it in confusion. What did this mean?
A faint smile lit up his face as he read the confusion on hers. “You don’t see very well, do you? Don’t
worry. You’ll figure it out. When the time comes, you’ll have everything you need to make the choice.”
“Choice? What choice? Angel, talk to me, dammit!” He didn’t answer. Angel’s figure blurred and when it cleared, he was no longer Angel. Spike stood in front of her.
“I don’t believe it. I’m gone less than a week and you’re back in the arms of the Brow again. You’ve got to be one of the most fickle birds ever.”
“Oh, I think Drusilla could give me a run for my money in that department,” she retorted. Buffy backed up from him in irritation. Where had Angel gone? They had things to discuss. She’d pretty much finished whatever she had to say to Spike. He had no messages for her--nothing new at any rate.
“That’s just bloody terrific! I run all the way around the world for you, get this damned soul for you, give up my existence to avert a damned apocalypse and it’s still not enough! You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?”
“Look who’s talking. You can be bitchy, too, Tiny. I mean, please. Going on about lifts?” She snorted, wondering what the girls would have thought if she’d relayed Spike’s conversation with her in the basement.
“If you can’t see all I’ve done for you, then you don’t deserve me.”
Now she was no longer in the wide room. They were in the temple where she fought Caleb. The First’s rogue priest reared up before her, dark blood pouring from his eyes. “Are you ready to finish this, bitch?”
“No, actually I had something else penned on my calendar. But I can squeeze you in.” Buffy wasn’t really interested in this conversation. This battle had taken place already. She knew the outcome and her movements were mechanical, almost rote. She scanned the room for Angel and, to her consternation, she didn’t see him anywhere. Why the Caleb-clone seemed uninterested in Angel’s whereabouts was puzzling. The vampire was a formidable fighter and had already knocked him down once.
It was as if he sensed her worry. “Looking for your undead boyfriend, slut? There he is!” His hand shot out to point and Buffy’s eyes followed it. She saw Spike, frozen and bitter, standing on the stairs. His blue eyes locked with hers and she could see the anguish and hatred burning in them.Spike was here? He was watching her? Why didn’t he help? The distraction proved effective. The scythe was wrested out of her grip. The preacher whirled and embedded it in her stomach before she could move.
It was as if the life drained completely out of her. Unable to move or even breathe, Buffy saw the floor coming up at her in slow motion. The preacher raised the scythe above her head and grinned. “Time’s up.” Then he brought it down towards her head.
Buffy awoke, shivering in the aftermath of that nightmare. The first part had been maddeningly enigmatic but the end had been all too clear and something that had escaped her attention came rushing back to her.
Spike talking to her in the basement: “I also used my heightened vampire eyeballs to watch you kissing him.”
“Where’s the trinket? The pretty necklace your sweetie-bear gave you. The one with all the power. I believe it’s mine now. Someone with a soul, but more than human… Angel meant to wear it, that means I’m the qualified party.”
In between those two moments with Angel, she’d been fighting Caleb again…and Spike had stood there and watched. The bastard. She shivered again, this time with barely controlled anger. God, even on the eve of the biggest fight in her life, Spike couldn’t rise above his petty jealousy. Why hadn’t she remembered this before?
Maybe ‘cause you had your head so far up Spike’s ass by then you couldn’t see daylight? Faith was right. He deserved to wear that magic amulet. If Angel had, he’d be toast and the world would have lost a true champion.
But Spike came through in the end! He saved the day. Whatever he was feeling when I fought Caleb…it didn’t mean anything! He died for the world.
So what? So did you; so did Anya. I don’t remember either of you standing on the sidelines while loved ones were fighting. Why do you keep cutting him so much slack? Is it because of that precious soul you kept on waving in everybody’s face? Having a soul doesn’t automatically make people good. Look at Faith when she was the Mayor’s bitch.
She wanted to have a witty comeback for that. But none c--ame to mind. She could have been killed that night and he would have stood there and watched it happen--all because he was jealous of Angel.
Conflicting voices warred in her mind as she tried to make excuses for Spike. She seized on all the good he’d done--staying to protect her sister, fighting alongside her friends, getting a soul…for her. All of it for her. Had any of it been to make himself a better man or simply to mold himself over into the image of the man she wanted? Had he been trying to make himself a copy of Angel?
No, he despised Angel too much for that. She could still recall his sneering speech about Angel when Faith showed up again in Sunnydale. Yeah, he definitely had issues where her former lover was concerned. Issues so bad he’d try to make himself into an Angel-clone to win her?
This was getting to be a pain. She’d dreamed of two vampire ex-boyfriends two nights in a row. Who’d show up next? Riley? It was this hotel; that was the problem. It had been Angel’s and the association was causing her mind to spew up this old boyfriend spillage. The sooner they were out of here, the better. She sagged back onto the sofa and willed herself to return to sleep.
She was roused by whispers and feet thumping down the stairs. She kept her eyes closed and lay without moving or otherwise indicating she was awake. “Sshh. Be quiet,” Willow whispered.
“I am quiet. You’re the one who can’t stop yapping.” That came from Faith.
“So who’s making breakfast today?” Kennedy asked.
Andrew answered, “I am. I don’t think I can take another of Dawn’s quesadilla surprises.” He had discovered the enormous kitchen in the basement and had nearly swooned at seeing all the massive stoves and cooking surfaces he could use for food preparation.
“Well, at least they’re not burnt like the stuff Anya and Buffy made. I can still remember that ‘Cajun’ mess Anya made at the house. Honestly, I don’t know how Xander could stand her cooking. What did he eat when she was still living with him?”
“Dawnie, hush. Xander might hear you.”
“It’s okay, Willow. He sleeps like a log, like a very dozy log. He won’t wake up unless there’s an earthquake or somebody lights a fire under the bed,” Dawn snorted.
Kennedy said, “We should be quiet. Buffy might wake up.” Okay, that was surprising coming from her. Buffy hadn’t thought she was really the caring sort.
“She’s a heavy sleeper, too. Nights are always hard on her,” Dawn replied with a note of sympathy.
Faith whispered, “They’re hard on all of us. You should have seen the size of that Blecch last night, Dawnie. Big sucker but Buffy jumped on him and staked him good.”
“I would have seen him if you’d let me go with you,” Dawn groused.
“Did you guys see Angel when he hugged her? I thought they were gonna kiss right there,” Willow said and Buffy could hear the wistfulness in her voice.
Dawn’s answer showed her obvious bafflement. “Kiss? Buffy won’t kiss him. She wants to get away from him. You should have heard her after you all left. She said she had a talk with Angel when he came to Sunnydale and he made his peace with her but he didn’t ‘get’ her and Spike. She doesn’t seem to care that he’s in pain. She just wants to get out of Los Angeles and as far away from him as possible.”
“None of us get that, Dawn. And nobody’s really explained that soul business either. Was he trying to be an Angel 2.0 version or something?” Faith muttered.
“A 2.0 version is supposed to be an improvement over the original,” Willow replied in superior tones.
Kennedy snapped, “Well, Spike failed that test then. Buffy didn’t hear that ‘traitors’ speech he gave when he came back and found her gone. If she’d seen him beating up on Faith--”
“--she probably would have given him a medal. Oh, wait. She did,” Faith commented with a snort. “She called him a champion. Can you believe that? Just because he died and Angel didn’t. Guess the fact that she’s died twice is why she thinks she’s so much better than me.”
“She doesn’t think she’s better than you, Faith,” Willow protested. “Buffy got over that a long time ago.”
“Yeah, I guess banging hips with the soulless undead’s gotta take you down a peg or two,” the brunette said.
Buffy could feel her ears burning with that last remark. Faith obviously still thought Buffy hated her and she had to admit she hadn’t done much to get rid of that impression. Other than the ice cream midnight raid, she and Faith hadn’t exactly done what could be called “bonding.” It was kinda low bringing up her deal with Spike, though.
“She still loves Angel. She told me so,” Willow said.
This was news to Dawn. “She did? When did she say that? Why didn’t anybody tell me?”
“This was when Anya killed all those frat boys with that giant spider.” Willow said this as if it explained everything. “This was before you and Andrew showed up, Faith. Buffy said she loved Angel more than she would love anything in this world. Then she stuck a sword through his chest.” Willow’s voice got sad and wondering as if she couldn’t imagine the pain it must have cost Buffy to do such a thing.
“So she told you she was still in love with Angel. And Angel’s still in love with her,” Dawn mused.
This time Willow spoke hesitantly as if she were unsure of her ground. “We-we don’t know that for sure, Dawnie. Faith and I saw Angel yesterday. He was reading to Cordelia and he seemed pretty attached to her.”
“Yeah, he gave us this weird speech about horseflies…”
“That’s mayflies, Faith.”
“Whatever, Red. He said that humans are fickle and Buffy’s no better than the rest of them ‘cause she traded him in for that second stringer, Spike.”
Buffy did her best to breathe evenly and slowly so they’d have no clue as to her wakeful status. God, that hurt. Angel thought she was fickle? How about him? He was mooning over Cordelia, of all the people! Couldn’t he have chosen a better replacement for her than her bitchy, high school rival?
There was a gulping sound and then Dawn told Faith in a nagging tone not to drink the milk from the carton. Dawn continued, “I’m thinking Buffy would never have looked twice at Spike when he came back if it hadn’t been for that soul. But do you really think she fell for him because of that?”
Faith belched before speaking again. “Why not? Lots of guys get themselves cars to make themselves look cool and get chicks. Other guys see that shit works so they go out and get themselves hot cars, too.”
“I don’t think a soul’s a fashion accessory like a car, Faith,” Dawn ventured.
Willow giggled. “Oh, yeah. I remember when Xander got his uncle Rory to lend him his ‘57 Chevy Bel Aire and he picked up that girl. Funny, he never drove it after that.”
“I don’t remember another girl. But I remember that car,” and Buffy could hear the insinuating note in Faith’s voice. “Sweet little ride. Not as nice as he was, though.”
“Ooookay. That is so not appropriate breakfast conversation.”
“What breakfast, Willow?” Kennedy pointed out. “We’re still waking for Emeril Agasse downstairs to whip up the chow. I think I’ll just skip it and get myself some cornflakes.”
“Speaking of breakfast, you should have seen the spread in the employee lounge at Wolfram & Hart. They had muffins, grapes, strawberries, different jams and jellies and bagels and all this other great stuff.”
The enthusiasm in Willow’s voice was hard to miss and Kennedy evidently didn’t care for it. “Sounds like a real incentive to join up, all right.”
“I said I was thinking about it, Kennedy. But I don’t think I’ll join. Maybe I’ll just cast one spell to see what’s wrong with Cordelia.”
Dawn asked, “What is wrong with Cordelia? Did Angel tell you? I’m thinking it’s kinda bizarre how one minute she’s okay and the next she’s in a coma. That is so soap opera-y. At least there was a reason Faith wound up in a hospital bed.”
Willow said, “He told me she was on another plane of existence or spirit dimension or something and when she came back she had a bun in the oven, gave birth and hello coma, goodbye consciousness. Other than that, he was none too clear.”
That wasn’t news to Buffy. That’s my Angel. Witness last night’s starring role in my dream.
“Really? Last time Red and I saw him, we didn’t get into that. We were too busy with the Cordelia vs. Buffy debate,” Faith added.
Dawn spoke up eagerly. “And…? What did Angel say about Cordelia?”
Buffy held her breath. What had Angel said about Cordelia? And why the hell should she care?
Willow replied reluctantly, “He said he loved her. She kept him sane and I guess that’s good for him.”
“He made it sound as appealing as taking cod liver oil. ‘Drink it! It’s good for you!’ “ Faith said in a mock nagging voice. “He says he never even kissed her. I’m asking ya, people, what kind of love is that? And every time Red asked him how he felt about Buffy, he kept ducking the question. I think he’s still mad for B; he just doesn’t want to get hurt because she’s crazy over Spike. Who can blame him? I say if Buffy is dumb enough to take that second-rate wannabe over Angel, then screw her. Leave Angel with Dead Woman Sleeping.”
“Faith, that’s just mean,” Willow chided. “If Angel and Buffy have both moved on, then that’s their choice. We can’t make it for them.”
“But Cordelia’s in a coma and, even before then, Angel was never making with the passion--not like he did with Buffy,” Faith insisted. “And Spike bit the big one along with the rest of Sunnydale. Why shouldn’t they give each other another chance?”
Willow asked, “Are you seriously suggesting Angel should dump a woman he might love simply because she’s non compos mentis? What kind of loyalty would that show? What kind of love? How would you feel if you got into a horrible disfiguring accident…”
She faltered slightly and Buffy didn’t have to see her face to know she was thinking about Xander. Then she continued, her voice firmer. “How would you feel if you got into a nasty accident and were less than what you were and the man who claimed to love you bailed?”
“I-I suppose you’re right. So points to him for loyalty, I guess,” Faith conceded grudgingly.
Willow was quick to play devil’s advocate. “But you might have a point. Angel didn’t say he was in love with Cordelia and Buffy didn’t say she was in love with Spike. I’m sensing serious fence sitting on the parts of those two.”
“Soup’s on!” Andrew called out. The others shushed him. “Oh right. Buffy. You know, I found something that’s like a dining hall. If we could get in one long table and some chairs, we could all eat there instead of dropping food in this place or carrying things up to our rooms. It could be like a high school cafeteria.”
“Some of us are trying to get away from high school, Andrew,” Dawn pointed out. “And you remember what Buffy said. She wants us out of here so you can forget about ordering in new furniture.”
“I keep forgetting. But why do we have to go? I-I don’t think I’m much of a fighter. All the best science fiction conventions are in New York or California, anyway. Do any of you want to go to Cleveland?”
Kennedy replied, “Now that the Hellmouth’s closed, a lot of the girls want to go home to their families. We’re low on traveling money but maybe that Angel will come through for us.”
“Kennedy, we can’t keep hitting on Angel for cash. He’s not made of the stuff,” Willow protested.
“Are you kidding, Red? With Wolfram & Hart behind him, he could print his own money,” Faith said. “So, Andy. What are we having this morning?”
“I made Western omelets. There’s also bacon and blueberry muffins. They’ll take about 8-10 minutes so you’ll just have to be patient. All good things come to those who wait.”
“Muffins?” Dawn said in a longing voice. “Ooey, gooey muffins? Oh, I can’t remember the last time I had blueberry muffins that didn’t come out of a box.”
The sounds dropped to low murmurs as they all ran out and then there was silence. Buffy lay still for quite a bit longer, thoughts whirling wildly in her head about the conversation she’d overheard. A faint scent of cooked food reached her and her stomach rumbled slightly. Deciding that there was no further point to playing possum, she threw back the covers and sat up.
She was hungry with a Slayer’s ravenous appetite and she decided to fuel up before she faced the day. Where had the others gone? Following the odor of cooking food, she descended to a lower floor and heard the rattle of pans and plates.
Faith complained, “Man, this place is gloomy. You’d think a kitchen would have windows for ventilation.”
“That’s what the ventilation ducts are for, Faith.” That came from Kennedy and there was the scrape of a chair as someone sat down.
Dawn whined, “It’s way awkward sitting here. These tables are too high.”
“That’s because they’re made for the cooking and not for the eating. Maybe we should take these up to our rooms,” Willow suggested. She scraped her chair back and then she saw Buffy standing in the open doorway. “Buffy! Hey, we would have woken you up but you looked so peaceful and we figured you needed the rest more than the food. D-do you want some eggs?”
There was a ‘ping’ from the stove and Andrew rushed forward, clad in an apron and oven mitts. “Muffins are done, people.” He gingerly removed them from the pan and set them on a plate he’d found in the cabinets. “Now just let them cool for two minutes…Faith!” He yelled as the woman snatched up a warm treat and threw it from one hand to another in an effort to get it to cool.
“Sorry, Andy. I’m just a slave to your cooking. Hey, if Robin and me don’t work out, would you consider marrying me? I’d really love coming home to this kind of food after a long night of slaying. Whaddaya say?” She winked at him and he turned beet red.
“Y-you’re not exactly my type,” he muttered and colored even more when everybody snickered.
“Damn! You must be losing your touch, Faith,” Willow said with an innocent smile.
“Tell that to Robin,” Faith shot back. She pushed the breakfast tray towards Buffy. “You’re looking better this morning, B. Got anything planned for after breakfast?”
“I’m going to see if Giles is better. Like I said, we need to make a trail to Cleveland. Kennedy, what are your plans?”
“Me?” Kennedy was surprised. She and Buffy did not get along. They had been at loggerheads ever since she’d shown up at the Summers house on Revello Drive and she wasn’t sure why the blond would even consider her feelings. “Well, Willow was going to take me out. She doesn’t really know the city so we thought we’d make it a short walk.”
“No, I’m talking about the rest of your life. Giles, Dawn and me are definitely headed Eastward Ho. What are you and the other Slayers going to do when we go?”
Kennedy opened and shut her mouth but couldn’t seem to come up with an answer. Before she could formulate one, Willow said, “I’d like to come with you, Buffy. Giles wants to start a new Watchers Council and he thinks I could help.”
“I thought you were taking those lawyers up on their offer,” Buffy said cautiously. She didn’t want to push Willow into it one way or the other. But she was elated that her best girlfriend might be willing to continue working by her side. She missed the closeness she’d had with Willow. It was almost like the ache she felt whenever she was around Angel and couldn’t… No! She wasn’t going to think about Angel now. This was about the future--and that meant no Angel.
“I thought over what you said about them, Buffy. Faith told me about what they hired her to do to Angel and how they turned on her when she wouldn’t help. She told me about them working with demons and other things. I couldn’t be with those people; they’d push me over to the dark side and then it’d be veiny and dark-eyed Willow all over again.” The redhead shuddered and stared at her plate while Kennedy sympathetically rubbed her on the back.
“If that’s what you want to do, then I’m coming with,” Kennedy said firmly.
Willow was touched by this show of devotion but she was unsure about it. “Really? I’m not asking you to come. I know you’ll probably want to get back to your folks and I wouldn’t want you to make some kind of sacrifice for me…”
Kennedy leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips, stopping the incipient babble in its tracks. “Hey, I just got you. I’m not letting you get away that easily. Kite string, remember? We’re pretty much attached.”
Dawn mouthed the words “kite string?” at Buffy. The blond shrugged. She was damned if she knew what it meant. “Then I guess it’s only a matter of telling Giles and we’re on our way.” Buffy sighed and picked at her congealing eggs.
What about Angel’s coat?” Dawn piped up.
“What about it?” Her sister asked the darnedest questions sometimes.
“You still have Angel’s coat. Are you gonna give it back to him?” Dawn pointed out and Buffy could feel the curious stares of the others.
“Yeah. I can do that. It should give Giles time to pack all our stuff. We can use that fun money Angel gave him for gas for our trip.”
Andrew whined, “But why do we have to leave Los Angeles? Can’t we make a go of things here?”
“I don’t think you could stay here, Andrew. Not here here in the hotel anyway ‘cause it’s way too big and most of those rooms aren’t clean and there might even be rats,” Dawn replied, wrinkling her nose at the thought.
“Rats?” Andrew said in a quavering tone, his voice raising and getting squeaky at the end of the word. His eyes darted around the kitchen and he shuffled close to the table as if one of the rodents had made an impromptu appearance.
Buffy snorted. “Andrew, don’t tell me you’re scared of rats. You used to summon demons!”
“Demons are one thing. I know how to deal with them. But rats are nasty with their beady eyes and skinny, hairless tails. They’ll crawl on you when you’re sleeping. If you’ve ever had some bully take one of those things and drop them down the back of your shirt, then you’d…” He trailed off and muttered, “I-I don’t suppose that’s ever happened to any of you.”
“Nope. Can’t say that it ever has. But, if it’s any consolation, I got turned into a rat once, courtesy of a spell by Amy,” Buffy told him with a sunny smile.
Andrew was wide-eyed at this intelligence. “Really? That’s so freaky. What was it like?”
“I remember being hungry mostly and having this weird craving for cheese that lasted for days afterwards.” Buffy finished the last of her bacon and eggs and scooped up two of the muffins. “I’m heading out.”
Willow stood up, too. “Buffy, can I come with you? I think I’ve come up with a way to help Cordelia. I can go into her mind the same way I did with you and find out what’s going on in there. Then maybe I can bring her out of it.”
“You think Queen C will listen to you?”
Willow tilted up her chin in an unconscious gesture of defiance. “Oh please. I’ve got more power in one of my pinkies than she’s had in her entire life. Besides, she wasn’t queen of anything except one stupid little school that sank into the dirt along with the rest of Sunnydale. That’s what I’ll tell her if she tries pulling any of that hoity toity attitude with me.”
Buffy grinned at the return of Willow’s Resolve Face. She had certainly changed a lot from the girl who had been pushed around in high school. Just let Cordelia try messing with her. That’s right, Angel. My girlfriend can beat up your girlfriend and I so didn’t mean that the way it sounded.
__________
Buffy agonized over what she should wear. Thanks to Angel’s generosity there were plenty of clothes for her to choose from. But she didn’t want Angel to think she was dressing for him. No sir. That didn’t mean she had to look all rumpled and dirty, did it? That blue dress with the matching shoes should do nicely.
She looked at her hair critically in the mirror and grimaced. It certainly wasn’t looking its best. She’d been so worried about the upcoming apocalypse maintaining her hair had taken a backseat. The hair dye she used to give it that healthy blonde color and shimmer had long since faded. Without it, she was a rather drab shade of dark blond and it really didn’t flatter her.
Buffy sighed and decided to pin it back and tie it in a chignon. That way, there would be less of it to see. [Too bad I’m not a hat wear-y type of girl. I could pull an Audrey Hepburn and look stylish, kooky and mysterious all at once.] She picked up the leather coat and held it up to her nostrils. While it provided a perfect excuse to see Angel again, a part of her didn’t want to let it go. It was the only thing she had left of him.
She blinked away the incipient sting of tears and recalled her dream from last night. That baby blue rattle…it was important, it had to be, or dream-Angel would never have made such a fuss about it. Getting an idea, she ran to his room.
This time Willow and Buffy were ushered into Wolfram & Hart’s inner sanctum without question nor ceremony. Willow had warned Buffy that the law firm possessed mind readers so she would have to raise a screen to keep them from hearing their thoughts. She was certain she could keep them out of their minds but it would require a bit of concentration.
Buffy had wondered why it would be necessary until Willow pointed out that keeping Cordelia here might be the hold they had on Angel. Of course, they probably wouldn’t have come right out and told him that; he’d be unlikely to respond well to threats. But if they kept dangling the hope that they held the cure for her mysterious sleep, it might be enough incentive to tie him permanently to their apron strings. Therefore they might not relish the idea of Willow freeing Cordelia on her own.
Willow pressed the elevator button for the upper floor. “So what are you gonna say when you meet Angel?” [Buffy, I’ll let him know what’s happening and have him guard the door, okay?]
Won’t they be suspicious about all three of us taking up so much time? “I don’t know yet. Haven’t got past the you-left-your-coat-with-me-last-night speech.” Buffy shifted the said garment to one arm and brushed her fingers across the sleek material in an unconscious caress.
The two women kept up a stream of light, inconsequential babble as the elevator took them to their destination. Maybe you could have an argument. A really loud one. That would keep away most people…and anybody who came to eavesdrop wouldn’t pay any attention to what I’d be doing.
And what will you be doing exactly?
Same thing I did with you. I’ll be chanting, meditating and going into Cordelia’s mind. To the observer who’s all casual-y it’ll look like I’m just sitting there staring at her.
The elevator stopped and Willow directed another thought to her blonde friend. I’ll contact Angel in his mind now and let him know what we’re planning.
You’re going into Angel’s mind? Great. First Faith does it and now you. I guess I’m the only one not to know the deep dark secret that is Mr. Broody. Wait, I thought vampires couldn’t get their minds read. I know; I tried when those mouthless demons tainted me with their ooky blood.
I’m not going into his mind. I’m just going to send him messages the way I did with Spike. It’ll be easy.
The elevator pulled up to Cordelia’s floor and Willow sent her mind out. To her disappointment, Angel was nowhere in the immediate vicinity. “That’s weird.”
“What is?” Buffy didn’t see anything particularly unusual. It was just a long featureless corridor with closed doors on both sides.
“Angel told me he was going to look in on Cordelia every day around this time. Guess he’s running late.”
“He does have a gadzillion dollar business to run. Maybe directing evil takes up a lot of time.”
Willow wanted to debate the evil part but she was on a mission so she dismissed it. “I’ll just go in and stay with Cordelia, keep her company. You can go look for Angel.” She walked down the corridor and around the corner only to see a security guard posted in front of the door. Okay, this was new. “Uh, hi? Can I go in?”
The tall man was sporting a microphone in his ear and listening intently to whoever was on the other end. “Yes? Yes, she’s here. Ms. Rosenberg. I’m sorry. Mr. Angel isn’t allowing Ms. Chase any visitors today.”
“What? Why? She and I are best friends. We used to go to high school together.” Well, they’re being best friends wasn’t strictly true but this guy didn’t need to know that.
“I’m sorry. There are to be no visitors besides Mr. Angel.” The man’s voice was flat without a trace of menace but his unyielding stance was clear.
“But I was just here yesterday! When did this happen?” The guard shrugged and made no other comment.
Willow looked deep into his eyes, speaking very carefully. “You’ve gotten your orders mixed up. Angel would never bar one of his oldest friends from seeing another of his oldest friends. You’re going to let me inside and forget that I’m there. Got it?”
During her recitation, the man’s face had grown imperceptibly slacker until he blinked and stood aside from the door.
Go Jedi mind trick. Wouldn’t Andrew be impressed. He pressed a keypad that Willow only then noticed. She quickly memorized the code and moved forward as the door opened. Then she paused. “Are there any security cameras in that room?”
He spoke slowly as if having trouble understanding her question. “Yeah, there’s a camera. But she’s a veggie and the guy watching is a total spaz. He’ll probably spend most of his time reading one of his Hustler magazines and nipping out for donuts instead of doing his job.”
“Good. You just hang out here like a good boy scout and don’t think about me. Okay?” she finished brightly. The man blinked again and turned to stand staring sightlessly at the opposite wall.
Willow chanted a quick spell to freeze the image on the camera and stepped inside. Magic and technology did not work well together and the camera would either short out soon, setting off an alarm, or else the screen would go blank alerting Mr. Hustler-and-Donuts. She would just have to work quickly and hope that Cordelia proved less stubborn than Buffy.
Willow staggered as a young man with immaculately pressed hair bumped into her. “Hey!”
“Hey, yourself.” He peered at her. “Are you in this scene?”
“Scene? What scene?”
“If you’re not in this scene, you should get off the premises. This is a closed set.” The man’s glare became more pronounced as he looked her up and down. Evidently he disapproved of her appearance in general and her presence in particular.
A sense of déjà vu overtook her as she recalled her dream about the First Slayer when she’d been harassed about her part in Death of a Salesman. “Um, I need to see Cordelia Chase. I’m a friend of hers.”
Now the man--whose nametag read Louis--smirked. “Let me guess. You’re an old high school buddy from out of town.”
“Yeah! That’s right. How did you know?” She scanned the space around her and now she could see she was on some sort of stage set. She could see a prop wall and glimpse several pieces of what looked like dining room furniture just to her right. There was a small army of people bustling about, calling for light changes, coffee and arguments about the script.
The man rolled his eyes and sighed in exaggerated patience. “Everybody’s a friend of Cordelia Chase. You don’t know how many pathetic fans claiming to be old high school buddies or sweethearts or long-lost relatives I’ve had to run out of this place. I’ve even gotten a few people saying they used to teach her classes. Can you believe it?”
“But I really am an old friend! Tell her it’s Willow Rosenberg. I used to sit behind her in class with Xander Harris.”
“Whatever. You can’t see Ms. Chase. She has a scene in five minutes…”
“Shut up, Louis.” Willow commanded. She had no idea if her wiccan powers worked inside Cordelia’s mind but she was getting tired of this guy and she was willing to risk it.
Louis’s mouth worked but no sound came out. He tried speaking again and a look of panic appeared on his face. He grabbed his throat and made an attempt to shout with the exact same result. Willow waved her hand and said, “Tell me where Cordelia Chase’s dressing room is.”
He made one last-ditch effort to speak and then pointed dumbly off to her right. Willow beamed at him and led him gently over to a foldout metal chair. “Thank you. You’ve been helpful. Now go to sleep.”
Louis slumped over, his clipboard clattering to the floor. Gentle snores came out of his mouth. Willow snatched up the discarded clipboard and proceeded off in the direction he’d given her. “Gee, that was neat. Obi Wan’s got nothing on me.”
Even with the determination to keep to the right, she still had to dodge a whole bunch of people. Unlike Louis, many of them were too busy to notice her. A few who did merely glanced at the clipboard and then ignored her as if it gave her automatic clearance. Evidently once you got this far onto the set, everybody just assumed you belonged.
Finally, she reached her goal. A door with the words “Cordelia Chase” in large, impressive letters and a big gold star stood before her and she reached out to turn the handle. Finding it locked, she chanted a few more words and the door swung open.
Cordelia was reclining backward in a plush leather seat, her eyes closed, while a frowsy woman in an apron fussed around her face. “Ms. Chase, I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to work on someone like you. Such a flawless complexion, such perfectly styled hair… I hardly have to do any work at all. It makes me wonder why you need my services.”
“Oh, sweetie. I’d be lost without you,” Cordelia responded in an airy tone as she fluttered her hand. Neither woman appeared to have noticed Willow’s entrance.
The redhead cleared her throat and glanced at the woman’s nametag. “Nora, would you go now? Ms. Chase is just fine and the other actors need you.”
Nora blinked and frowned. “Who are you? I don’t remember having seen you before.”
Willow grinned feebly and waved her clipboard. “I’m new. Just got hired this morning. Ms. Chase has a scene in less than two minutes so I think you’re done here.”
Nora shrugged and dusted her hands off. “Very well. Goodbye, Ms. Chase. See you for the next scene change.” She left and Willow shut the door behind her.
Cordelia hadn’t moved when Willow spoke and that surprised her. Didn’t the former cheerleader recognize her voice? Willow noted that she didn’t appear that much different from when she’d last seen her.
Guess Cordelia thinks she’s too perfect to change. “Cordelia? It’s me, Willow. Get up. You have to get out of here.”
The brunette woman opened her eyes and sat up. “Excuse me? Of course I have to get out of here. My scene’s coming up. I hope Chester’s got his lines straight. Honestly, that man needs so much prompting it makes me wonder if he can even read the cue cards. Maybe he’s dyslexic…” she mused.
“Cordelia, you have to listen to me. I’ve come to get you out of here. You’re not really on some sound set in Los Angeles. You’re trapped inside your own mind.”
“What the hell are you talking about, trapped inside my mind? Is this some script change I haven’t been told about?”
“Cordelia, don’t you remember me? It’s Willow from back in high school.” Willow moved closer to the woman, upset to realize there was no spark of recognition in her eyes.
The brunette woman raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. “Oh great. One of my ole high school loser chums dropped by to pay a visit. Shit, what the hell are those guards being paid for? Security!”
“No! Listen to me, Cordelia. You’re not some actress type playing on a sitcom--”
“You’re damn right I’m not! I’m CORDELIA CHASE and you’re on the set of ‘Cordy!’ What does that tell you, missy?”
“Cordy? You mean the sitcom is named after you?” Willow couldn’t help it. She let out a choked giggle and then started laughing. “I don’t know why I’m surprised; that is so typical of you! And to think Angel said you’d changed!”
“Angel? What did he say about--” The brunette’s mouth snapped shut but not before Willow caught the slip.
“You remember Angel? You remember Angel from high school but you don’t remember me?” She stepped closer to Cordelia, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You do know who I am, don’t you? You’re just pretending so you can stay stuck in this pretend, make-believe idiot world you’ve built up for yourself, aren’t you?”
Cordelia’s expression went from hunted to feral to innocent all in the blink of an eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. For all I know, this is just some wacky rehearsal for a new scene I’m supposed to be doing.” She turned back to the mirror and pretended to smooth away a non-existent smear of lipstick.
Willow marched up to her. “This isn’t real, Cordelia, and you know it. How come no one’s come in here? You were supposed to be on the set minutes ago and no one’s called for you. What does that tell you?”
The feral expression appeared once more and Willow thought she saw an ugly flicker in the other woman’s eyes. “It tells me that those jerk guards are sleeping on the job. It tells me this joke has gone beyond ha-ha funny and straight into La La Land. Now get out of here, Rosenberg, before security gets here and you’ll be in real trouble.”
“How do you know my name is Rosenberg?”
The brunette flicked her a startled glance. “What?”
“I never said my last name is Rosenberg. How do you know that if you don’t remember me?”
There was a long silence. Then the brunette gave the redhead a bored look from the mirror’s surface. “You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you, witch?” Her voice deepened to a basso profundo on the last word. Then she sprang out of her seat and smacked Willow hard across the room. “You thwarted me once, witch. You won’t do it again.”
Willow flew across the room and crashed into a small table in the corner. She slid to the floor, dazed and hurting, as the other stalked up to her. “I owe you some serious payback for returning Angel’s pesky little soul,” she growled. “Having him back nearly ruined my plans. Not that it mattered in the end.” She grabbed the stunned redhead and hauled her up by her blouse. “Angel tried to stop the birth of my child and failed. All you did was delay the inevitable.”
She (Not Cordelia! Not Cordelia!) tossed her hard against the door so that it cracked with the impact. Willow scrambled to her feet and threw up her hands. A streak of dark fire flew from them and enveloped the false creature near her. Not-Cordelia screamed and Willow felt the echo of pain rippling through the space around her. Appalled, she stopped her attack.
The thing wearing Cordelia’s face reeled and managed a sickly grin. “That’s right, witch. We’re in Cordelia’s mind. I may not have control of her body any more--the pregnancy took a lot out of both of us--but her mind’s still very much alive. You’ll hurt her if you try any of your tricks in here. I, on the other hand, have pretty much carte blanche to do whatever I want.”
“If that’s the case, why this elaborate ‘adored actress’ business? Why do you need it?”
“It keeps her happy and sedated while I rebuild my strength. Most of the time she even forgets who her friends used to be. She doesn’t remember you, Willow, except as a mousy, unimportant little computer geek. And if I say so, that’s all you are.” The creature made a gesture and abruptly they were back in Sunnydale High.
Willow stared around and then looked down at herself in dismay. Her hair hung long over her shoulders and her clothes were a loudly colored sweater with horizontal stripes and a blue jumper. She hadn’t dressed like this in years. She looked around frantically and saw the other students bustling past her.
“Oh Willow. So nice to see you’ve discovered the softer side of Sears.” She jerked up her head and saw the Cordelia Chase of old: Queen C, confident and sneering just as she used to be. Something inside of Willow wilted and she wanted to scurry under a bench somewhere.
Then she realized. This was what the creature wanted. She had confronted Cordelia in her little fantasy and with a few words torn it to shreds. So the monster wearing Cordy’s face had thrust her into the memory of a time when she had been powerless, unsure and weak and Cordelia had been on top of the world. Well, forget that. She straightened up and stared Cordelia in the eye. “Fuck you, bitch.”
The other woman faltered. “What? What did you say?”
“I said fuck you. I kicked your ass when I stuck Angel’s soul back in. You tried a mini earthquake, you tried the Great and Powerful Oz crap and I still won. You’re not Cordelia Chase and, even if you were, you wouldn’t impress. She had to have the role of Higher Being handed to her. I seized power all on my own.”
“And look where that got you,” the beast hissed. Evidently the monster wouldn’t keep up the charade once Willow saw through it. “Your friends hated you! Your best friend tried to kill you. Your lover died and you couldn’t save her or bring her back. What good is your power, witch?”
“Just ask all the Slayers I empowered, asshole.” Willow stepped up to the thing and slugged it hard in the jaw. Maybe she didn’t have Buffy’s Slayer strength but she had the element of surprise and the monster staggered. Willow took advantage of the momentary respite and ran.
How did the creature know about what she’d done? Well, she had done a lot of talking in front of Cordelia when she’d been here with Xander the other day. The thing must have been taking notes.
That monster wasn’t Cordelia but it had Cordelia somewhere in its clutches. What had it said? That fake acting set kept Cordelia entertained. Entertained and oh-so-satisfied with herself, I’ll bet. It’s meant to keep Cordy quiet so she won’t wake up.
Willow paused and tried to think of a plan .The creature had kept Cordy amused so she wouldn’t question the reality around her and wake up. What if Willow removed that complacency?
She smiled to herself, closed her eyes and concentrated. The next moment she saw Cordelia with a really bad case of the frizzies being dragged down the hallway by a pair of math geeks. “No! No! I don’t wanna go! There’s been some mistake, honest!”
Willow ran in after her. “Hi, Randall. Hi, Lewis.”
The two guys looked up from behind their taped glasses and grinned, nearly blinding her with the light gleaming off their braces. “H-h-h-i, W-w-wil-low,” Randy stuttered.
“Hey, Willow. I just got this new computer program. It has 24 levels of proficiency and it learns at twice the speed of--”
“Not now, Lewis. I’m looking to talk to a friend of mine.” She had spotted Cordelia in the corner. The prom queen was trying to fend off a guy who was showing her his latest Batman comic and another girl who was offering her a cup of soy milk. At the same time, she was tearfully begging people for a comb and mirror. “Hi, Cordelia!”
The former May queen gazed up at her and her eyes widened. “Oh thank god, Willow! You have got to get me away from these freaks! Look what they did to my hair!”
“Your hair is gonna be fine, Cordelia. Although I can’t say the same for the rest of you if you stay cooped up here.”
“I’ve been trying to get out of here! Do you think I want to spend my lunch period with a bunch of geeks and losers like you?”
Willow’s lips thinned. She’d almost forgotten what a bitch the brunette used to be. “That wasn’t the ‘here’ I was talking about, Cordelia. You know this isn’t real, none of this.” She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the entire room.
“Of course I know that! These people are all lost in their own stupid little worlds of comic books and Dungeons & Dragons and all the rest of that fantasy crap. They probably wouldn’t know Gucci loafers if someone hit them over the head with them!” The girl with the soy milk finally came up with a comb and Cordelia snatched it from her without a single word of thanks and began pulling hard at her frizzled locks.
Oh, these people are lost in a fantasy world, Miss-I’ve-Got-My-Own-Sitcom? Willow yanked the comb from her hand and held it behind her back. “I’m not talking about this room, Cordelia. I’m talking about this whole Back to the Future scenario. This isn’t real! Your brain’s been hijacked and you’re being held prisoner in it. Watch.” Willow focused her mind again and her tacky clothes disappeared to be replaced by the stylish tight aquamarine top and forest green pants she’d put on just this morning.
Cordelia’s eyes widened as she took in the change. “Wow. That’s really…something. Is that Anne Klein? You’re finally joining the cool set.”
“These clothes aren’t real either. They’re just a construct, like this room, like these students, like your hair and, if you don’t snap out of it, you dumb frizzy-haired cow, you’re going to be stuck here forever!”
Cordelia’s mouth dropped open. “What did you call me?”
Willow backed up, holding the comb tauntingly in front of her. “You heard me. I called you a dumb. Frizzy-haired. Cow. Whaddaya gonna do about it?” She smirked and waggled the comb.
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do about it. I’m gonna call the principal and have you slapped in detention for the rest of your natural life, Rosenberg!”
Willow frowned. Damn, that was not the response she was looking for. She had to get Cordelia to snap out of this and that meant no running for outside help. “What are you gonna tell him? That I called you names? You pathetic little crybaby. You’re just as fake as the rest of this place. The Cordelia I knew wouldn’t hide behind geeks and bad hair. She wouldn’t want to stay stuck in high school just because she was popular there. She wouldn’t let some monster into her mind and trap her in an imaginary wonderland, no matter how comfy. She’d…”
Right then Willow heard it--a vibrating, guttural growl that echoed faintly from down the hall. The beast was hunting for her and, if it found her, she would have no recourse but to fight and thereby injure Cordelia in the process.
“Cordelia, I’d love to debate real versus unreal issues but we’ve got bigger problems right now.”
“Oh, really, Willow? Like, say, a trip to the principal’s office?”
“You step outside that door and you’re the one who’s gonna be on a permanent trip,” Willow muttered. She scanned the room. Except for the windows there were no other exits. She shrugged. So what? It’s not as if this place was real.
She grabbed the windowsill and yanked it upright and then peered down. The ground wasn’t too far; they should be ato mto make it. She looked back into the room. “Okay, Cordelia. I’m going fir…”
Cordelia Chase was gone.

TBC
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