"... than hear you sing": Epilogue
by Mediancat
Well. what is there left to say, but, they're not mine, they're Joss's?



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Epilogue

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Mr. Trick and Deputy Mayor Allan Finch stood in the mayor's office, while Mayor Wilkins himself sat behind the desk and looked as peeved as Trick had ever seen him. The window shades were closed, of course, and despite the artificial light the room was still a trifle too dark for Trick's licking.

"You know what I hate the most?" The Mayor began.

"Low voter turnout?" Trick ventured.

With a hollow chuckle, the Mayor said, "No, Mr. Trick -- though that is everyone's civic duty and not a problem to be ignored. No, what I hate the most is betrayal."

Finch jumped. "Oh, relax, Allan, I wasn't talking about you." And, after a pause, added. "I know you wouldn't betray me, you're too smart for that." He fixed his gaze on Trick. "I AM a little disappointed in your performance, though. Do you know how personally embarrassed I am that I had to be rescued by the Chase girl?"

Trick was largely unfazed. "Suicide wasn't part of the bargain, your Honor. If I'd tried anything right tomorrow the Sunnydale High janitors would be sweeping me and my people out of the stands right about now. And you knew I wasn't big on personal risks when you recruited me."

"Come now, Trick," the Mayor said, "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it."

Finch gave off a fake laugh. "Ha-ha-ha, Superchicken." Trick and the Mayor glared at him as one, and he did his best to fade back into the woodwork from whence he came.

Mayor Wilkins continued, "Still, I guess no harm, no foul, and I WAS more to blame than you were for not suspecting Hypnos' motives sooner." He tapped a pencil on his desk. "Besides, the sorceror was the one who betrayed me, and you know how I feel about betrayal." Straightening up in his chair, he told the Deputy Mayor, "Come here, I want you to write a note." As Finch slowly crept forward, the Mayor turned to Trick and added, "And I want you to have one of your people ready to deliver it."


* * *
Later that night, as Buffy, Willow and Giles were brainstorming on ways to prevent Hypnos from just stirring up more trouble when everyone fell asleep again, they were interrupted by a loud pounding on the door followed by the sound of footsteps pounding rapidly away. When Giles opened the door, he found a note jaggedly pinned to it. He read it and called Buffy over.

An hour later, Buffy and Giles were entering a back bedroom in a house on the outskirts of Sunnydale. Giles was carrying a crossbow and a flashlight while Buffy had her usual complement of vampire-Slaying weaponry. Lying on a mattress on the floor of the back bedroom -- a thoroughly soundproof room, it had to be noted, and the windows were heavily covered -- was a sleeping man with short, dark hair who seemed to be around forty.

"Are you sure this'll work?" Buffy asked her Watcher skeptically. "I mean, it's been two thousand years, you'd think someone would have tried this before."

"Hypnos was always a genius at concealing his actual location," Giles said. "And besides, he's never had to be particularly near those over whom he exercises his influence. And it is only that one phrase that can harm him. Are you ready?"

"After what this bastard did to you all, me, and Angel? Oh, yeah, I'm ready." Slowly and carefully, the Slayer leaned down by Hypnos' right ear and spoke those two little words that would make him lose all of his powers. "Hey, Hypnos," she began . . .

"WAKE UP!"


* * *
AFTERWORD

Normally, you put the songs quoted in a fic in the disclaimer, but there were so many I thought it would be better to stick them in an afterword instead. First off, thanks to everyone who tried to help me find appropriate songs for Cordelia's mood: The people on the posting board, the members of the Watcher's Council, and my friend Sarah Brown. Now then, the key song in this fic is Patty Griffin's amazing song "Every Little Bit," from her album "Living with Ghosts." The other songs, in order, are Paula Cole's "Throwing Stones," Patti Rothberg's "Treat Me Like Dirt," Aimee Mann's "4th of July," Heart's "If Looks Could Kill," and Weird Al Yankovic's "One More Minute." It's a bit of poetic license on my part to assume that Cordy would know all these songs, but it's my fic and it's not that great a stretch of the truth.

Finally: Cordelia's dream is based loosely on an actual dream I had at one point, and the key phrase in that dream is quoted here verbatim. It seems that dreams can come true in fanfiction!


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