Chapter 18
Pan
“We are victorious!” DeGanon cried, gathering the slayer in a tight hug, lifting her clean off her feet, she squealed in surprise as the man set her down, kissing her on both cheeks,
“You and your compatriots have saved my people!” he declared turning to Spike who hastily backed away,
“Hold off there, I’ve had my hug for the day,” he warned the gypsy. DeGanon laughed and slapped Spike on the shoulder hard enough to almost send the slim vampire sprawling. Spike regained his footing and sending the boisterous gypsy a dirty look, walked with Buffy to her friends. They were delighted to see him, especially after his timely entrance, Angel nodded to him silently, Spike turned to him,
“Is that all you have to say, you poof?” Spike demanded. Angel slowly got to his feet,
“No, that’s not all,” he moved closer to Spike and suddenly jerked out his hand, Spike jumped back, then frowned at the outstretched hand, looking back up Angel,
“Nice save,” Angel replied, a slight smile on his face. Spike stared at him for a few moments, uncomprehending, then a slow grin spread across his face. He slapped the elder vampire’s hand,
“Yeah, it WAS nice, wasn’t it?” Spike asked grinning. Angel chuckled and shook his head ruefully. Dusk followed and was immediately bowled over by Dawn and Willow; he exhaled in surprise as the affectionate women drove him backwards against the wall. DeGanon laughed,
“All hail the Dark General!” he declared, “So much a man that one woman is not enough to contain him!” he roared with laughter as Willow, Dawn, and Dusk all sent him the same dirty look as he turned to one of his gypsy companions. Dusk went back to resting against the women’s heads. He kissed both of them on the tops of their heads and released them noting that Dawn had not released his grip on him. Willow’s eyes were watery, over come with post-battle relief. They had all made it out alive against truly dire odds. Despite her better logic, Willow knew she would never get used to seeing people she loved in mortal danger…or being in mortal danger herself for that matter.
“Why can’t we ever have a moment that doesn’t involve demons or vampires or things dying?” Willow asked mournfully. Dusk chuckled and stroked her face affectionately. Dawn sniffled and looked up at him, her eyes also a little misty; releasing Dusk reluctantly,
“That was a pretty wild trick with the swords and the knives,” she commented, “It was very Spawn. How did you do that?” Dusk shrugged uncomfortably looking down at his arm,
“No idea, petite,” he turned back to regard Dawn, “What about that trick with the stars?” he asked her wryly. Dawn’s face pinched in confusion,
“What stars?” she asked. Dusk frowned,
“You don’t remember-” he was cut off as several gypsies rushed over to him, singing praises in Romani and lifted him clean off his feet. Dusk squawked in surprise as the throng carried him away on their shoulders.
“H-e-e-e-lp!” Dusk wailed. He turned to see Buffy getting the same treatment, she grinned over at him,
“Looks like we made some friends!” she yelled. Dusk just shook his head in amazement and laughed as the jubilant victors bore him and his sister away.
Later on that night, they had all assembled in the meeting hall, which had been cleaned and transformed into a kind of massive fest hall. A huge wooden table dominated the room, it had been moved by several gypsies and two slayers. The table was laid out extravagantly with fruit, baskets of bread, wine and water and all manner of other confectionaries. DeGanon sat at the head of the table, draped in his finest Romanian silks. Buffy and Dusk sat on either side of him, followed by the rest of the Scooby gang and the surviving gypsies and youths. DeGanon raised his glass,
“A toast!” he cried. Everyone raised their glasses, “To the Slayer,” he gestured to Buffy, “The Dark General,” he turned to Dusk, who nodded humbly, “And to her companions who fought and bled by our sides! From this day forth, let all who sit at this table be regarded as family of the tribe Spaarti!” There were cheers as everyone drank from their goblets.
Angel sat down a goblet of water, “Does that include everyone?” he asked quietly. There was a hush as the gypsies turned to regard the vampire that had so wronged them, so long ago. DeGanon thought for a while, then lifted his glass again,
“Let it be from this day forth, that the tales of the vampire Angelus and his brutality be wiped clean. Instead, let the tales of the vampire, Angel, and his heroism this day replace them,” he declared solemnly. Everyone lifted their glasses again as Angel looked down, touched, a small smile on his lips.
“Hear, hear!” Dusk cried out, trying to break the solemn atmosphere that had descended onto the feast. The table laughed as Willow sent him a ‘You’re so cute,’ look across the table. He smiled and turned to Dawn, raising his glass to her in a silent toast. Dawn tentatively picked up her glass and raised it to him in toast, shyly, a tentative smile on her lips. Dusk grinned and drank from his glass.
“This fare is truly sumptuous, Lord DeGanon,” Giles spoke up, “But I’m afraid time is of the essence,” DeGanon nodded, making a sound of agreement through a mouthful of food, he gestured,
“Tomorrow, after we have all rested, I will take you to Pan, who is our most talented technomancer, I am sure he will be able to decipher the sigil,” DeGanon’s face split into a broad grin, “But for now, Eat! Eat and grow strong my sisters and brothers!” he gestured to the table, “Then honor us with your presence for the day. We have many beds and all are warm and firm!” Xander picked that moment to yawn loudly, everyone laughed,
“Sleep sounds very doable,” he said wearily. Faith nodded,
“I could go for a little horizontal sabbatical myself,” she commented. DeGanon nodded,
“Then eat your fill and you will be shown to your beds,” he assured them. There were several happy sounds at his proclamation as the assembled heroes ate their fill.
An hour or so later, exhausted, Dusk dragged himself into a makeshift bed, and collapsed. Willow, who’d already fallen asleep, smiled drowsily and wrapped her arms around him. He smiled and stroked her arm, peering at his other arm intently. The arm that had sprung blades earlier that night, when Dawn had been in danger and had shot those sparks out of her hands. Dusk frowned, she really didn’t remember. Was this some work of her being the key? Or was it simply because she was scared out of her mind at the time. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting sleep take him.
They got underway several hours after sundown, each of them having desperately needed sleep, DeGanon leading them through a myriad of sewer tunnels, before climbing up a ladder and lifting a manhole cover. Climbing to the street, DeGanon helped Buffy up out of the sewer. Buffy stretched her arms and inhaled deeply,
“My GOD, I never thought I’d be so happy to see the sky again,” she exclaimed. Dusk followed, chuckling,
“Yeah nothing like spending a night in the sewer to make you appreciate the merits of fresh air,” he commented wryly. Faith, Giles, Xander, Willow, Xander and Anya followed. DeGanon, started back down the hole,
“I will have Spike and Angel meet you back at the club, after your meeting with Pan,” he gestured towards what looked like an abandoned warehouse, “Just go in there, he’s down the first flight of stairs, he’ll be expecting you,” DeGanon smiled slightly, “Just do not let his appearance startle you,” he added enigmatically. Buffy frowned,
“What do you mean his-” she started to ask but DeGanon had disappeared back down the hole, she sighed and turned to Giles,
“Giles? Why is everyone so weird?” she asked plainly. Giles shrugged,
“Because God has a very distinct sense of humor?” he offered weakly. Buffy chuckled and turned back to the decrepit warehouse,
“Looks cozy, huh B?” Faith commented, Buffy snorted,
“A regular love nest,” she turned to Dusk,
“Think there’ll be any trouble?” she asked, shooting Dawn a glance. Dusk shook his head,
“No, like DeGanon said, Pan is expecting us,” he replied. Angel quietly walked over to them,
“We’re part of the tribe now, Buffy,” Angel interjected, “They won’t betray us for any reason,” he finished solemnly still in awe of his newfound exoneration in the eyes of the Romany. Buffy nodded,
“All right, let’s go get this thing unraveled so we can hurry up and nuke the Hellmouth,” she replied heading towards the warehouse. The interior was dimly lit, dust an inch thick settled against all available surfaces. Weeds and crabgrass hung like curtains around the room, Anya brushed some away,
“Well, I’ll say this for this Pan, his interior decorating skills are sorely lacking,” she muttered. Xander smirked,
“All bow, the Martha Stewart of the demon world has spoken,” he bowed sardonically earning a nasty look from Anya. Buffy shushed them as she knocked on a grime-covered door, sending dust flying up into her face. She coughed as a voice called out,
“It’s open!” a voice from the other side of the door said. Buffy gave the doorknob a hard twist and pulled the door open…and fell back suddenly as a wave of humidity washed over her, she frowned in disbelief and stared at the other side of the door, it was drenched in condensation. She gestured for the rest of them to wait there as herself, Willow who had the stone, and Giles descended down into the basement. Willow inhaled deeply,
“Mmm…I love how it’s smells in here. It smells so fresh and alive,” she commented.
“Thank you,” a voice called out from the bottom of the stairs, Buffy crouched down and peered out from the stairwell. A young man sat in a chair, surrounded by computers and plants. He had deep brown skin and straight hair that unless Buffy was mistaken, was a deep green. He was seated in a chair that was completely covered in vines. He didn’t get up as he gestured for them to come over and be social. A blanket was casually draped over his lap as he smiled up at the three,
“Hi!” he greeted cheerfully, sticking out a hand, “I’m Pan,” he introduced himself. Buffy took his hand, noting how odd the skin felt, the texture was very rough. She frowned in puzzlement before smiling in return,
“Hi I’m Buffy,” she gestured, “This is Giles and Willow,” Pan grinned,
“Ah, the slayer, her watcher and the mighty witch, I’ve heard so much about you, please,” he gestured to a few stools that were also entwined with thick green vines. Buffy carefully swept one clean before sitting down. Willow was still gaping at her surroundings,
“This place is amazing! It’s like a greenhouse,” she closed her eyes and inhaled the clean air, “And I LOVE this air,” Pan grinned and gestured to a row of humidifiers,
“They keep the air moist for the plants,” he gestured to a vast number of potted plants surrounding the room, now wildly overgrown, and yet still possessing a certain untamed beauty to them.
“You’re a gardener?” Buffy asked, suddenly wondering if perhaps DeGanon had sent them to the wrong person. Pan chuckled,
“I’m a lot of things, like a tree, my interests branch in many different directions,” he gestured to the computer screens, “I’ve always believed that mother nature and technology can work hand in hand together,” he patted the vine-encrusted monitor with something resembling affection, “I’ve tended my gardens well, both of root and vine, and of silicone and plastic,” he turned back to the group, “But I understand you have something for me to look at?” he asked mildly.
Willow snapped herself back into reality as she fished around in her pocket for the gem. She pulled it out and held it before them. The gem flared to life displaying the mystical fractal before them. Pan put unusually long fingers to his chin in thought as he peered at it,
“Hmmmm, yes that’s definitely gypsy magic but,” he frowned, “I don’t see how any gypsy could have had access to something this elaborate. It’s like a Monet done in Crayola,” he frowned up at them, “Where did you get this again?” he asked.
“A very long story, I’m afraid,” Giles replied, “What did you mean by ‘A Monet in Crayola?” Pan turned back to the ghostly fractal,
“For information as…elaborate as this is, using something as crude as Gypsy magic or graphical representation as encoding is hardly efficient,” he put his hands together, “It’s like taking a diesel engine and sticking it into a golf cart. It’ll work, just not very well,” he turned back to the fractal, “Magic of this sort should not be contained in such crude methods of conveyance, especially when they’re such more suitable methods of expression.”
“Such as?” Giles asked. Pan looked up at him and struggled to explain,
“Powerful magic, SERIOUSLY powerful magic, like this here, could not be recorded conventionally, it would fill entire libraries of books if someone tried to break it down into words. So, you can do other things with it, you can turn it into a picture, like this one here, you can forge it into an artifact, you can even inscribe it into someone’s soul, turning that person into sort of a living spell book,”
“Like the Key of Eternity’s Light?” Buffy asked trying to be casual. Pan snorted and nodded,
“THE Holy Grail of construct magic,” he replied. Giles frowned,
“Construct magic?” he asked. Pan nodded,
“Yeah, it goes back to what I was talking about earlier about truly powerful magic. Some spells are so potent that they actually attract life force. So you can have a tree or an animal that actually is nothing more than a very powerful spell that evolved into a life form. It may not even be aware that it’s living magic,” he thought, “The Key is like that. It’s vast magical power that was able to grow beyond its normal limitations. No one knows who made the Key, certainly nothing that had a body, but as the Key grew and matured, it became more like a living thing than a magical formula. It existed for eons accumulating more life force, eventually it was, well…born into the world, having conjured up enough life force to manifest physically in this world.”
“Dawn, my sister, she’s the Key,” Buffy informed him. Pan’s green eyes opened in shock,
“The Key is here?” he asked. Buffy nodded,
“She doesn’t have a clue as to what she is. All we know is that we need her and a couple of other things to destroy the Hellmouth. Also the Hellmouth needs her in order to escape from underground,” she explained. Pan shook his head in wonder,
“Incredible, the Key of Eternity’s light. One of the most powerful creations of magic ever! And it’s on this plane of existence!” he laughed and shook his head, “I wish I could see her,” Buffy frowned,
“Why not? She’s right upstairs; we could go up and make introductions. Pan smiled indulgently,
“I don’t think that,” he pulled the blanket slowly from off his lap, “would be entirely successful,” he finished wryly. Buffy looked down and gasped; Willow and Giles leapt to their feet and gaped. Below Pan’s waist, his body terminated into a stump.
A large, brown and green, tree stump.
For a while, Buffy just stared in awe at the massive roots that made up the stump of wood growing out of the earth and ending in the grinning person in the chair. She could see vines growing out of the base of the stump; she followed them and looked straight up gasping. Above her was an intricate latticework of vines and roots, completely covering the ceiling. Willow gaped and turned her gaze back to Pan, who grinned showing green teeth,
“Like I said, some constructs become animals…or plants,” he informed them. Buffy stared at him, slack-jawed,
“You’re a plant?!” she asked incredulously, Pan shook his head,
“No I’m an incantation, a magical construct that evolved into a plant, and from a plant,” he gestured to his human upper torso, “Into this charming person you see before you. Aloe for blood, bark for skin and grass for hair,” he shook his head and with a start Buffy realized that the reason his skin had felt odd was simply because that it wasn’t skin just as the dark green hair on his head wasn’t hair, but grass. Giles sat back down, stunned,
“So you were...an incantation?” he asked cautiously. Pan nodded,
“I was once a nature elemental spell. A coven of nature-priestesses crafted me to defend their land. As time went on, I became more than a spell, I achieved sentience, from there it was pretty simple to grow a body,” he smiled wryly, “Of course it’s very easy to get carried away. There was a time where I was a forest several acres large. This form,” he smiled wryly, “is much more portable,” Willow was still stunned,
“You were a forest?” she asked. Pan nodded,
“You can never imagine how it felt to be home for thousands of creatures. The feeling of rain on my leaves, the way a beetle burrowing into my bark tickled,” he grinned, “It was amazing,”
“So, why did you, ‘uproot yourself’?” Buffy asked, punning. Pan got the joke and grinned, flashing his green ‘teeth’.
“Well, Rome was advancing and doing a lot of damage to the landscape so I packed myself into some flowers and sent my seeds blowing across the winds. One of them just happened to land in Romania, near the Spaarti tribe. I made introductions as soon as I grew a mouth, they took a clipping off me, brought me here, planted me, weaved a little magic and here I am,”
“Wait a second, ROME?” Buffy asked, askance, “Just how old are you?” Pan shrugged,
“Couple of millennia, not too shabby compared to some redwoods I know,” Giles shook his head in disbelief,
“So you can just plant your seed anywhere and you grow?” he asked. Pan nodded,
“Yup, My name is Legion for I am many,” he replied grinning. Buffy just shook her head,
“Gypsies, talking plants, thousand year old slayers, crystal animals,” she turned to Giles, “Why didn’t we stay in Sunnydale were all there were your nice garden-variety vampires, werewolves, and hyena people?” she looked back at Pan, “No offense,” she added hurriedly. Pan grinned,
“I’m a tough shrub to offend, Now then,” he started hitting a few keys with his long brown fingers, “Let’s see if we can translate this thing,” he continued tapping the keys in rapid succession before frowning,
“Well, it’s map, along with one doozy of an incantation” he replied. Buffy peered over the screen and frowned at a round shiny sphere,
“That’s a map?” she commented incredulously. Pan frowned before sighing in understanding,
“You mammals with your underdeveloped senses, it’s a wonder you made it past hunting and gathering,” grinning he tapped a few keys, ignoring the look of polite outrage on the slayer’s face. The silvery ball unwrapped becoming flat, clearly showing a network of lines, leading to…
Pan pointed at the screen, “There we go! ‘X’ marks the spot,” he informed them. “No applause for the miracle man please,” Buffy shot him some wry look,
“No, but perhaps some Miracle-Gro for the humble plantman would be in order,” a look of disgust crossed Pan’s features,
“Ugh! Too full of chemicals, I’m an all-natural kind of weed,” Willow followed this thought to its obvious conclusion and made a face. Buffy turned back to the screen,
“Okay, so where is it?” she asked. Pan frowned up at the screen,
“Looks like it actually may be here in the city,” he tapped a few more keys, “Underground, about seventy five, eighty miles from here, in a vast subterranean, uh-oh,” Pan stopped, frowning,
“ ‘Uh-oh? What do you mean ‘Uh-oh?” Buffy demanded. Pan sighed,
“Well, it’s close by, but it’s not the most accessible places,” he looked up at Buffy, “It’s smack dub in the middle of the Lazarus cult’s holy burial ground,” he exhaled hard as Buffy felt a wave of exhaustion washing over her,
“Let me guess, this Lazarus cult frowns upon tourists?” she asked, her voice full of dread. Pan put a finger to his chin thoughtfully,
“You could say that. They have a tendency to mummify intruders alive and bury them,” Pan turned to the group, as all three of them had looks of utter despair on their faces.
“It’s never something simple,” Buffy complained. Giles sighed and took off his glasses, pinching at the skin above his nose,
“Let’s…not lose all hope yet, Buffy,” he turned to Pan, “I thought the Lazarus cult was a myth,” Pan shook his head,
“Wishful thinking, they practice their shtick out past the Khulghaani’s territory, who incidentally won’t go anywhere NEAR the place, claim it’s haunted. Taking into account of what I’ve heard about the Lazaraens practices, I’m inclined to believe them. Buffy sighed,
“So what demon do THEY worship?” she asked wearily. Pan shook his head,
“Oh no, nothing like that, they don’t worship demons,” he scoffed, “Don’t be absurd,” Buffy’s eyes perked a little,
“Really?” she asked, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
“Nope, The Lazaraens are necrophilacs. They worship death and the dead,” he replied. Buffy groaned and sank her head into her hands, Willow looked ill,
“You mean they…with DEAD people?” she asked, aghast. Pan shrugged,
“Don’t know. All I do know is their leader, Mercurio, has been searching for the secret to life beyond the grave for quite sometime,” he informed them. Buffy just snorted, not taking her hand from her face,
“Why don’t they just go dig themselves up a vampire?” she commented bitterly. There was a prolonged silence as Buffy slowly raised her head from her hands to bore her gaze into Pan’s face,
“No…” she whispered dreadfully. Pan just nodded, “VAMPIRE death-worshippers?” she asked, appalled.
“Makes sense, if you want to learn about death, you first need to die,” Pan explained. Buffy groaned and sank her head deeper into her hands. Giles cleared his throats,
“These vampires, they’re magicians?” he asked, Pan shook his head,
“Nope. Necromancers, dealing with things like bones, and blood and reanimation and wraiths and ghosts and stuff. Creepy bunch,” Pan informed him. Buffy laughed bitterly,
“Of course, why not? We’ve had everything else on this trip, why not a bunch of death worshipping vampires?” she asked exasperated. She sat down as Pan patted her leg,
“Listen, for the most part, the Lazaraens are scholars, supposedly they’re not much for actual fighting,” Buffy didn’t even to bother to look up. Willow said it first,
“No, they probably have zombies and ghouls and mummies to fight for them,” she toned in glumly. Pan blushed, his cheeks turning a ruddy green, rather than red,
“Well, yes, there is that,” he admitted reluctantly. Hitting a button, a copy of the map began to print out followed by a page with the spell translated into English, he tore it off the printer and handed it to Buffy, who took it grudgingly, still fairly unhappy with the most recent turn of events,
“I’ve done a little touch up work on the spell,” he began, “Normally it would have taken a LOT longer to convert it to written word, but I’ve seen spells like this before, so I took a few shortcuts. It’s a tracking spell; it homes on a specific magical resonance usually emitted by a place or an artifact. What makes it so powerful is that this thing will track it ANYWHERE, this country, this planet, this galaxy, other planes of existence. If this artifact that you’re looking for exits, this thing will find it,” he inhaled deeply,
“Anyhow, there’s an entrance into the Deadlands above ground, in a cemetery, unsurprisingly,” Pan sighed, “Just tell DeGanon you’re looking for passageway to the Lazaraens territory, and you know, assure him that you haven’t completely lost your mind, and it should be all right,” Buffy favored him with a glare,
“Thanks,” she replied dryly. She turned to go. Pan reached out and gently touched her wrist,
“Listen, I’ve known a LOT of slayers in my time. Your kind seems to have a knack for beating the odds,” Pan grinned and regarded her friends, “And from what I’ve heard on the grapevine regarding last night’s fun and games, you run with a pretty tough crowd, so don’t give up, who knows?” he winked at her, “You may get some help along the way,” Buffy smiled and stroked the rough bark over his hand,
“Thanks, you’re a nice plant…or spell…or whatever,” she flustered. Pan grinned and waved her away,
“I’ll settle for being a nice friend, thanks,” he grinned as Buffy waved goodbye, Willow and Giles said their goodbyes to the plantman and followed.
Buffy opened the door revealing the gang waiting anxiously awaiting their return. Xander got to her first,
“Well? What happened?” he demanded. Buffy opened her mouth to speak,
“A talking plant decoded the fractal, it’s a map that says the Everstone is in the middle of a holy underground graveyard protected by a sect of death-worshipping vampires,” Willow interjected hurriedly, “Oh and I got a neat spell!” She added as an afterthought. Xander’s eyes widened as Buffy closed heir mouth with an audible clack.
“Thanks Will,” she replied dryly. Xander was still trying to puzzle out Willow’s outburst,
“Oh,” he finally said before shaking his head, wrapping an arm around Anya’s waist and heading out the door, “A talking PLANT?” he asked incredulously.
“It’s a long story,” Willow chimed in. Xander just nodded uncomprehendingly as they left the building. As they left, Buffy suddenly spun round and took Dawn’s face in her hands, Dawn tried to pull away,
“Hey, quit it!” she jerked her head away, “What are you doing?” she demanded. Buffy turned,
“Just making sure you’re not sprouting leaves,” she muttered under her breath as they headed back out onto the street.
“So that’s the plan,” Buffy concluded to the assembled group back at DeGanon’s sanctuary after picking Spike and Angel up at the club. Everyone looked grim; Spike was just the first to put it into words,
“Let me get this straight, luv. You intend to raid a holy burial ground of a bunch of necrophiliac vampires, because an enchanted mulch heap told you so?” he asked aghast. DeGanon glared at him,
“Pan has been faultless in his counsel to the Spaarti,” he turned to Buffy, “If he says the artifact they seek is in the Lazaraen's territory, then it is so!” he finished. Spike snorted,
“Yeah, or he’s setting us up to be ground into fertilizer, no pun intended,” Buffy shook her head,
“As far as I could tell, Pan was playing straight with us, he gave us a lot of information about,” she cast a quick look to Dawn, who wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to any of this, “…things that he didn’t have to,” she finished cautiously. Spike snorted,
“Okay, so who gets to go along on this little excursion to a mortician's wet dream?” he asked derisively. Buffy smiled slightly,
“Myself naturally,” she turned to Willow,”
“Willow, you’re doing the tracking spell, so you kinda have to tag along,” Buffy informed her friend apologetically. The redheaded witch swallowed but nodded.
“I’m going too,” Angel put in. Buffy looked up surprised but nodded,
“Me too,” Spike chimed in. Buffy shook her head,
“No, I need you and Faith to stay her, in case the Khulghaani come back. They probably won’t but if they do, DeGanon will need all the help he can get,” Spike didn’t like it and Faith looked like she was ready to say something, then thought better of it and fell silent. Buffy turned to Dusk,
“Dusk, it’s going to be dark down there, you should have a field day,” Dusk smiled grimly but nodded. Suddenly Dawn was interested,
“Wait a minute! Why does Dusk have to go with you to the super dangerous dead place?” she demanded. Dusk smiled slightly at the younger girls concern,
“Because petite, with all the shadows there I’ll have plenty to work with,” he gestured to his eye, “Also I can see in the dark, so that gives us an edge,” Dawn certainly didn’t look happy, but she didn’t say anything, and was ignoring the weird look she was getting from Buffy. The slayer shook her head,
“Anyhow we should get going A.S.A.P.,” she proposed. Dusk shook his head,
“No, if these necromancers are even half as powerful as we’ve heard-”
“They are,” DeGanon assured him grimly, crossing himself,
“Then we should hit the place come tomorrow night, so we can make sure that everyone we need to come along is at a hundred percent,” he checked his watch, “besides it is really late. There’s no way we’d make the trip and make it back before the sun came up and since we have to gain entrance to the Deadlands from above ground,” he turned back to Buffy, “What do you think, sis?”
Buffy frowned, she clearly didn’t like the prospect of just sitting around doing nothing, but she conceded to her brothers suggestion, “You’re the one with a head full of tactics, Alec,” she sighed, “Sounds like a good idea,” Dusk nodded and turned to the group.
“That’s it then, myself, Buffy, Angel and Willow will enter the Deadlands, and try to find the Everstone,” Dusk's tone was grim. This was not going to be easy. With a sigh, he pushed his chair away from the table,
“That’s it? Then I recommend we get some rest,” he looked around, “some of us are still a little banged-up from the Khughaani assault and those who are heading out tomorrow need to be at their peak,” he sighed, “Sounds like anything else is a death wish waiting to happen,” he got to his feet and left. Buffy sighed,
“Thank you, Alec, for that overwhelming vote of confidence,” she muttered, trying to distract herself by just how frightened she really was. She got up from the table to leave when Faith flagged her down,
“Hey B, you got a minute?” she asked. Buffy frowned, but nodded,
“Yeah, sure Faith, what’s up?” she queried. Faith looked back and forth before speaking in a hushed tone,
“You and I are cool right? Five by five?” she asked, the younger slayer looking a little worried. Buffy frowned but nodded,
“Sure, I mean you’ve pulled your weight between the bar fight, the fight at the estate and last nights attack, you’ve been proactive with group participation, why?” she asked puzzled. Faith sighed,
“It just seems like I’m getting left behind a lot, that’s all. Like you don’t want me around,” she confessed. Buffy instantly understood and placed a reassuring hand on Faith’s shoulder.
“It’s not that I don’t want you around,” Buffy began, “It’s that I need someone to stay behind who can really fight,” she cast a look at the group that was beginning to disperse, “Aside from Spike, all our heavy hitters are coming with me tomorrow morning for some crypt raiding,” she turned back to Faith, “I need someone who can really handle themselves in battle. I need a slayer,” she finished. Faith sighed in relief and managing a cocky grin, saluted the other woman,
“I’m your babe, B, have stake, will travel,” she assured her. Buffy turned to go and Faith suddenly reached out and put a restraining arm on her shoulder,
“Buffy?” she asked. Buffy turned around startled. It had been the first time in a while she could remember Faith calling her by her name.
“Yeah?” Faith looked down and sighed hard,
“The last time I wanted to say this, you threatened to beat me to death but…I’m really, really sorry,” she looked up at the blond slayer and Buffy was shocked to see tears forming in her dark eyes, “For everything, I just…I needed you to know that. I needed to know that I could say it and really mean it,” Buffy’s face softened and wordlessly she gathered the other woman in a tight hug, Faith broke down,
“Oh God, Buffy, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she sobbed hard against the other woman, sinking to her knees, Buffy cradling her all the way down to the floor, “I’m so, so sorry!” Buffy gently rocked the scarred (both in body and mind) slayer back and forth soothingly. Faith convulsed with hard, painful sobs and shook with misery, Buffy stroked her hair back,
“Shhh, it’s okay Faith, It’s going to be okay,” she kissed the younger girl on the head as the girl continued to wail in anguish. The room had emptied except for Dusk and Angel who watched the scene with deep tenderness mixed with awe. Dusk turned to the vampire,
“Long cry from the scene at the Magic Box less than a week ago, isn’t it?” he commented quietly. Angel just stared,
“I’ve been waiting for this for over a year,” he gestured to the sobbing slayer, and the woman she’d wronged consoling her.
“What’s that mate?” Dusk asked.
“Forgiveness,” he replied before turning and leaving. Dusk smiled slightly at the vampire’s words and followed, leaving the slayers alone.
Dusk wandered around the hideout a little, lost in thought, when he heard what sounded like muffled crying. Having just come from a tear fest he looked around, and saw a shape huddled miserably against a storm drain. He squinted,
“Dawn?” he asked cautiously. The figure looked up, revealing Dawn’s tearstained face.
“Go away,” she muttered, turning away from him. Dusk frowned and tentatively walked towards her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Leave me alone!” Dawn yelled. Dusk stopped, cut deeply by her words and unsure why.
“Dawn, I…” suddenly Dawn whirled around on him.
“You think you can just go risk your life anytime you want?” she cried, “That you can just go traipsing with my sister into some pit of hell and that you’ll be fine cause you’re with the ‘all-mighty slayer!” she demanded. Dusk froze, stunned by her words,
“She’s not always right, you know!” she yelled, “People have fought with her and gotten themselves killed because of her! Ask her! Ask her some time about Kendra, who had her throat cut or her friend Larry who got crushed into pulp by a giant snake! Or Jesse, ask her about Xander’s friend who she couldn’t save and wound getting turned into a vampire! Ask her about mom getting kidnapped by a psycho mother-hating vampire that was gunning for her! Her, not mom!” she sobbed the last bit “Sooner or later everyone who hangs out with her dies!” she looked back away from you, “Even you,” she muttered.
Dusk was completely blown away, and regarded the weeping girl with a mixture of compassion, shock, and pity. Carefully, he sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She whimpered against him, he stroked her hair, whispering soothingly. Finally Dawn had finished; she turned and looked up at him, her eyes red,
“Alec…if something ever happened to you,” she couldn’t finish. Hanging her head, Dusk gently put his fingers to her chin, lifting her eyes to him,
“Yes, life with Buffy is dangerous. It has risks, she fights the forces of evil and sometimes the forces of evil manage to get one by her. But for every life that she’s had slip through her fingers, there have been hundreds that have been saved by her actions,” he collected a tear from her cheek, “Including yours,” he replied softly. Dawn just scowled,
“All I want is a normal sister, someone who pays attention to me. Who takes me out and does things with me, and doesn’t make me feel so…useless,” she choked. Dusk rocked her gently,
“She doesn’t think you’re useless,” he assured her. She looked up at him in disbelief,
“Oh yeah? You notice she didn’t ask Faith or her boyfriend to join you guys. They’re can both fight really well,” she sniffled, “You know why? I’ll tell you. Because she left them behind to watch out for me, while YOU and her and the others enter a big black tomb, probably to die down there,” she shook her head angrily, “I’m a burden!”
“Hey!” Dusk said firmly, forcing her to look up at him, “NO ONE is dying down there tomorrow. Not me, not your sister, not anyone. You hear me?” he demanded. Dawn just sniffled, “And you are NOT useless, Dawn. You have a purpose, a very great purpose,” Dawn snorted derisively,
“Yeah, what, to catch all two hundred Pokemon?” she demanded bitterly. Dusk shook his head,
“No, someday, your presence, your contribution will be key to us all,” he said carefully, trying to dance around the truth. Dawn snorted,
“God, ever since Buffy and I had that fight, and she told me I wasn’t her sister or something like that, she’s been acting all weird and super-protective of me,” she wiped at her eyes, “It used to be she couldn’t care less where I was, now she has to know, like all the time,” she sniffled again, “I hate it,” she muttered.
“Would you rather she go back to supposedly not caring?” Dusk asked simply. Dawn frowned,
“I just wish she would trust me. I just wish she wasn’t always trying to get rid of me, like I’m in the way all the time. I wish…I could do something right, in her eyes,” she whispered. Dusk smiled in understanding. Few things were as compelling as a younger siblings search for approval from their older siblings. Buffy had done it a few times with him in the beginning of their relationship, feeling like she had something to prove to the older son of the man she regarded as a father, before she’d settled into the comfortable groove the two of them had now.
“She does trust you,” Dusk assured her, “I mean, look at it this way. Instead of sitting in some luxurious swanky hotel in Manhattan eating popcorn and watching all the TRL you could handle. You’re here with us…in the middle of a sewer,” he frowned as Dawn began to smile slightly, “…fighting for our lives every day against demonic forces of evil. You know,” he began, “maybe you’re right. If your sister was trying to get rid of you, this would be a good way to go about doing it,” he looked down grinning teasingly as Dawn socked him with a tiny fist,
“Creep,” she muttered sniffling. Dusk nodded and held her gently,
“Yeah, but I’m your creep, so I’m forgiven,” he replied. Dawn smiled blissfully at the thought of Dusk being ‘hers’ before hugging him tightly.
“You’re not a creep,” she told him. Dusk shrugged,
“Darn, I’ve always wanted to be a creep, or at least a troglodyte or something equally unpleasant,” he quipped. Dawn laughed and sniffled.
“You’re not any of those things,” she said softly. Dusk looked down,
“No? What am I then?” he asked. Dawn squeezed him hard,
“You’re my hero,” she whispered. Dusk smiled and kissed her head, touched, before patting her arm.
“Come on, you know what we need?” he asked grinning.
“Corn flakes with sugar?” Dawn asked as Dusk scooped a heaping tablespoon of sugar on her bowl of cereal.
“Don’t knock it petite, stuff is soul food,” Dusk replied, pouring milk over her cereal and some for himself, “Comfort food is essential to life,” he informed her. He held up a spoon, “Cheers!” Dawn grinned and tapped her spoon against his before digging in.
“You know,” Dawn began through a mouthful of cereal, “You never did tell me how you did that trick with the blades coming out of your arms the other night,” she swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Dusk shrugged, a little uncomfortable,
“I’m really not sure how it happened either,” he admitted. “I just got really scared and angry at the thought of you getting hurt by that vampire and I sort of just…freaked,” he replied. Dawn smiled, touched.
“Yeah I remember, you wailed on that dude. Wham!” she exclaimed slamming her fist into her hand emphatically and nearly knocking the glass milk jug off the table. Dusk dove for it and caught it before it tipped over. Dawn blushed,
“Sorry,” she apologized meekly. Dusk grinned and straightened the milk jug.
“It’s not a problem. Combat reflexes and all that. Helps me keep up with the slayers” he crunched a mouthful of sugary corn flakes thoughtfully, “Which reminds me,” he began, swallowing, “What exactly went down between your sister and Faith?” he asked. Dawn looked down,
“I don’t really know,” she started, “I just know that Buffy hated her more than anyone in the whole world. Sometimes Buffy would cry for no reason, I’d ask what was wrong but she’d never tell me. Riley and her sort of…drifted apart during the summer. Maybe Faith had something to do with that, I don’t know,” Dawn admitted. Dusk nodded,
“Yeah I heard something like that. He was transferred?” Dawn shook her head,
“Nope. He once asked me to keep a secret,” she smiled slightly, “But I can tell you,” she looked up at Dusk, “Right?” Dusk ‘mm-hmm’-ed and she continued,
“Riley wasn’t transferred, at least not exactly. He told me one night, after Buffy and he had sort of broken up, that he’d put in for a relocation to Nevada,” she confessed. Dusk’s eyes widened, “I was always under the impression that they had broken up BECAUSE he’d been transferred,” Dawn shook her head.
“Nope, although that’s what he told her. He said she didn’t want him pining away for someone who wasn’t going to be there for her, the way she deserved. Or something like that,” she waved a hand dismissively, “I try not to pay too much attention to what my sister does, most of it is pretty nasty,”
“Does that include me?” Dusk asked the girl wryly. Dawn’s hand flew to her mouth as she blushed,
“No! I mean, no way,” she put a hand on his shoulder, “You’re very un-nasty. You are so unbelievably far from nasty it’s not funny,” she reassured him hurriedly. Dusk chuckled and patted her hand affectionately.
“So why DID Riley put in for transfer?” Dusk asked. Dawn leaned in close to whisper,
“He told me, the night he left. He said that Buffy loved him, but that she wasn’t IN love with him,” she shook her head as Dusk frowned,
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked incredulously. Dawn shrugged,
“Beats me,” she shrugged, “All I know is he told me that, wished me good luck, and walked out the door,” she sighed, “That was the last either of us ever saw him,” Dusk exhaled hard and leaned back,
“Wow. And you’ve been keeping this secret all this time?” he asked. Dawn nodded, “Did Riley often entrust you with whoppers like that?” Dusk inquired. Dawn shook her head,
“Nope, first time, but he was always really nice to me. Not like Spike, whose only words to me are: ‘Fetch my lights, turn up the music,’ and ‘Beer me!” her voice slipped into a pretty good impression of the British vampire causing Dusk to roar with laughter.
“That does sound like him,” he admitted through fits of laughter.
“Sounds like who?” a voice from behind them asked. They turned to see Willow come into the kitchen area “I heard voices and I was hungry,” she explained. Her eyes settled on the cereal box and sugar bowl, “Ooo!” she exclaimed, “Corn Flakes with sugar! My favorite,” he gestured to an empty seat, “Can I, I mean, would you mind if I, maybe joined you guys?” she asked shyly. Dusk turned to Dawn, arching an inquiring eyebrow. Dawn frowned for a while then sighed and smiled up at Willow. Scootching down in her chair, she stretched out a leg and pushed the empty chair away from the table for Willow.
“Okay,” Dawn told her. “But I get first dibs on milk,” she warned the older woman.
“Deal,” Willow replied smiling at both of them as Dusk got another bowl and poured cereal in it. Willow began scooping heaping spoonful after spoonful of sugar onto the cereal. Dusk and Dawn gaped in amazement as Willow poured the milk over the cereal and took a big bite, somehow cramming an enormous amount cereal into her tiny mouth.
“Mmmmm!” she exclaimed happily, crunching nosily. Dusk’s face broke out into a grin, “Ith guud!” Willow exclaimed through a very full mouth. Dusk laughed,
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey,” he gently chastised her.
“Yeah,” Dawn put in, “Even my sister’s got better manners than THAT,” she admonished jokingly. Willow put a hand over her heart, as if wounded by the comparison and swallowed.
“Wow! That’s something,” Willow admitted grinning, “This stuff is good, but not as good as Lucky Charms,” she observed.
“I LOVE Lucky Charms!” Dawn exclaimed, her voice slipping into a really bad Irish accent, “Pink hearts, orange stars, yellow moons…” she frowned, before turning to Willow, “What were the others?” she asked.
“Green clovers,” Willow put in, Dawn nodded her head rapidly.
“That’s right, green clovers,”
“Blue diamonds,” Willow and Dawn said in unison, “Purple horseshoes, Red balloons, pots of gold and rainbows!” they finished, grinning triumphantly. Dawn tried to chew and laugh at the same time, causing milk to dribble out the corners of mouth, which caused her and Willow to laugh even harder. Willow shook her head,
“No no, you’re doing it wrong, you have to,” she scooped up a large helping of cereal with her spoon, holding it up for them to see “And like this,” she demonstrated tilting her head to the side to get the whole spoonful in her mouth. She chewed loudly and turned back to Dusk and Dawn,
“Thee? Wyke dis!” she said through a mouthful of food. Dawn was nearly delirious with laughter. Dusk was grinning like an idiot. Leaning over he winked at Dawn,
“Watch this,” he whispered conspiringly. Dawn frowned as Dusk tapped Willow’s shoulder. She turned, still chewing her mouthful of cereal.
“Whu?” she asked. Dusk suddenly thrust his fingers over his eyes, and peeled his nose back. And with a gasping laugh, Willow spewed milk out of her nose, all over the table, wheezing and coughing.
“Ewwww!” Dawn exclaimed hurriedly backing away from the table, “Gross!” she exclaimed laughing. Dusk was nearly tipping over in his chair with laughter as Willow wiped at her running nose and watery eyes.
“Alec!” she cried rushing over to swat him furiously. Dusk protected himself vainly,
“Every time! That face does it to her every time!” he howled with glee as Willow attacked him. Dawn rushed over and began swatting at him as well, Dusk cried out and toppled backwards over in his chair from the onslaught, the two women following him down, swatting and tickling him in turn. All three were howling with laughter that echoed long into the night.
Buffy sat down next to Giles who was seated at the table, cleaning his glasses. He looked up and smiled,
“Oh hello Buffy,” he smiled at her. Buffy waved a little in greeting as she stretched her legs out in front of her. Giles replaced the glasses on his face.
“Angel told me what you did for Faith just now,” he reached out and gripped her hand, “I’m very proud of you Buffy. It took a lot to forgive her her sins,” he stated. Buffy just nodded,
“Right up there with forgiving Angel?” she asked him point-blank. Giles sighed,
“Logically, I know that Angel and Angelus are two vastly different people. That Angel has risked his life for us several times over and has saved all our lives at least once,” he looked down.
“But illogically…?” Buffy asked tentatively. Giles looked back up and exhaled hard,
“In my heart, I always wonder what his face looked like we he killed Jenny,” he looked back at Buffy, “I wonder if looked at all the way it did while he was torturing me,” Giles said softly. Buffy sighed in understanding,
“And that’s what your eyes see every time you look at him,” she finished quietly.
“With Spike, it’s different,” Giles, explained, “I’ve never hated Spike,” he smiled slightly and looked down, “although there were times,” he admitted, “When I was ready to turn that loudmouthed abrasive ponce into a coat rack,” he chuckled quietly.
“Thank you for not doing that,” Buffy smiled at him. Giles scoffed,
“Thank a well-stocked liquor cabinet. If both of us had been sober during his stay at my home, neither of us would have survived the ordeal,” Giles commented direly. Buffy laughed, but it was a strained laugh as Giles began to continue with his original train of thought,
“But Angel,” he looked at Buffy, “ANGELUS,” he corrected, “I hated very very much,” Giles told her. Buffy snorted humorlessly,
“Yeah I can see how killing your girlfriend and torturing you could get someone on your bad side,” she said softly.
“It wasn’t that,” Giles replied, causing Buffy’s head to shoot up at stare at him uncomprehendingly, “I hated him before that. I hated him after that first day. When I realized that you and him had…” his voice trailed off and Buffy got the hint, “And he had taken that experience, that should have been one of the most beautiful experiences of your young life, and he twisted it and turned it against you,” he looked at Buffy, “He turned an innocent girl's most intimate and vulnerable moment, into an instrument of torture to be wielded against her,” he looked down and shook his head, “After that, I hated him,” he looked back up at the young slayer, “It wasn’t my torture I condemned him for, Buffy. It was yours,” he finished and looked down. Buffy’s eyes filled with tears as a rush of love for this man, who she had come to love and trust as a father, filled her. Getting up from the table, she leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Giles looked up stunned, then exhaled hard as Buffy gathered him in a tight hug that very nearly crushed the life out of him. Giles patted his wards shoulders,
“Buffy?” he whispered softly.
She sniffled, “Yeah?”
“I can’t breathe,” he told her. Buffy hurriedly released him as he sucked in a lungful of air. She laughed a little embarrassed as she wiped away tears.
“I’m sorry, got a little carried away in the Hallmark of it all,” she explained. Giles waved her apology away.
“No, it’s quite all right,” he assured her. He smiled, “actually it was quite pleasant,” he looked up at Buffy, resuming his speech, “I’ve always loved you as a daughter, a student and a friend. You’ve made me more proud than any father could be, certainly more than any Watcher,” he stood and took her hands in his and looked up at her, “I have every confidence in your abilities, Buffy. I am certain we shall be victorious,” he told her firmly his voice full of conviction.
“Giles?” Buffy sniffled as fresh tears sprang to her eyes.
“Yes Buffy?” he asked quietly.
“Brace yourself,” Giles frowned.
“Whatever do you-OH!” he cried out as Buffy slammed into him, knocking him back into his chair, hugging him tightly as fresh tears leaked down her face. Giles held her tightly, his own eyes becoming moist with emotion. Finally Buffy released him, sniffling and wiping away tears,
“Wow,” she laughed, standing up. “Been the night for ‘It’s a wonderful life’ moments huh?” she asked. Giles smiled slightly,
“Must be the holiday season, making us all sentimental,” he replied wryly. Buffy laughed and wiped at her eyes,
“Giles?”
“Yes Buffy?” he asked. Buffy sat down next to him,
“Not that I’m complaining, in fact, those were some of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me, but, why now?” she looked up at him, “I mean, you know I love you, right? You’ve been like the ‘dad-that-didn’t-split-and-go-to-L.A.’ I never had,” Giles smiled warmly and nodded, “So why now? I mean, why put it into words now?” Giles sighed and shrugged,
“I don’t know. Possibly it has something to do with Alec,” he smiled with paternal pride as his thoughts turned to his son briefly, “Coming to love him as a son reminded me how much I cared for you as a daughter. Also,” he stopped to look at her, taking in the woman that had grown from the young girl, who not more than five years ago, fresh to Sunnydale had loudly declared to him on their first meeting, her willing and eager intention to ignore her sacred birthright, “Also Buffy, you’ve grown up. You’ve become a woman,” he smiled, “You’ve fully come into your own. And I wanted to tell you before you outgrew all your sentimentality to this stuffy old coot,” Giles grinned self-deprecatingly. Buffy shook her head,
“I’ll never outgrow my fuzzy daughter-shaped feelings for this stuffy old coot,” she replied smiling. Giles chuckled,
“Well yes, be that as it may,” he looked up at her, “My own father was a very distant man. It was truly difficult to garner any kind of notice from him, never mind any sense of pride. I suppose that’s why I feel in with Ethan’s crowd,” he smirk wryly, “ ‘Desperate plea for attention’ and all that,” he quipped before becoming serious again, “I just never wanted you to feel like that. Feel that for one moment, I was anything other than completely proud of you,” he nodded his head, “there were times, I’ll admit, when I was a little unsure about your judgment,”
“Can those times be labeled ‘Angel’ by any chance?” Buffy asked wryly. Giles nodded,
“And Spike, and your fashion sense and your taste in music,” Buffy laughed,
“Get back to the ‘praising me’ already!” she exclaimed. Giles smiled,
“But beyond all that. You’ve always pulled through and somehow tapped into reserves of strength that fill me with such…awe,” he looked up at Buffy, “and such pride, that for a father that, who, until recently had no children of his own, I can safely say, that no daughter has made hers more proud,” he finished. Buffy smiled at him warmly,
“So, how long is this ‘pride, love and trust’ going to last?” she asked wryly.
“About until the same time that we are no longer in mortal peril,” Giles responded evenly, “At which time this will be reverting back to stern disapproval and priggish admonishment,” Giles grinned and Buffy threw her head back laughing till she her eyes were filled with tears of a different nature entirely.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she gasped between laughs. Wiping at her eyes she turned to her watcher,
“When all this is over, and the Hellmouth is sent packing. Perhaps you and I can sit down somewhere and have scones and tea,” she proposed wryly. Giles smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder,
“I can think of nothing more I’d rather do,” he replied warmly.
“Well, I for one am very happy that you’re not going,” Anya put in, lying nude in Xander’s arms. She nuzzled against his bare chest and tucked the sheet under her chin, “That place sounds awful and it’s full of dead dusty things,” she looked up at him, “and if you died, I’d be very…upset,” she confided, struggling for the right words. Xander smiled and kissed her forehead,
“I know Ahn, I know,” he assured her, “I just wished sometimes I could contribute more,” Anya frowned,
“Well, do you remember what that nice shiny-haired woman said? She said that you were what everyone else fights for, that you were joy and laughter,” she held him tightly, “Plus you’re going to help get us really big guns. That sounds like helping to me,” Xander sighed again,
“I suppose you’re right,” he replied, not really believing it. Anya lifted her head up and rested her weight on an elbow,
“Xander, just because you don’t beat people silly or cast spells, doesn’t mean you’re useless,” she explained.
“It doesn’t?” he asked lifting his body to rest on his elbow facing her.
“No!” she exclaimed, “Not at all. I mean, WHOSE idea was it to go on a road trip?”
“Mine,” he replied cautiously.
“And who supplied the camper?”
“That would be me,”
“Right, and who was responsible for e-mailing Riley for the guns?” she asked.
“Well, technically that would be Willow, but I did contribute,” Xander amended. Anya waved a hand dismissively,
“Come on! Hacking into the Pentagon and retrieving personal information from the U.S.’s top-secret laboratory pursuing the study of extraterrestrial life? Anyone can do that! You think that Willow would have had any idea what to order once she got the address?”
“No?” Xander put forth meekly. Anya hit her pillow,
“Damn right!” she declared, before smiling sweetly, “So you see how key you’ve been? Besides, it doesn’t matter whether your considered key to the group or not,” she told him. He scoffed,
“It doesn’t?” he asked skeptically, Anya shook her head,
“No. Because you’re key to me,” she told him. Xander’s jaw sagged open,
“Anya that was…romantic!” he exclaimed giving his girlfriend a shocked look. Anya smiled slightly before getting a serious look on her face,
“Yes, well, I want sex again, so I figured that this would be the best way of getting it. But it’s taking too long,” and with that she pounced on the formerly morose man amidst wails of protest and pleas for mercy.
Such wails and pleas went unheard.
“Sing as the spirits move you, sing to your doubling eye, Plain Jane becomes Loveable Lindas, when six moons shine in the sky!” Angel and DeGanon roared drunkenly from their table. There were several empty mugs littering the table and floor they had spent rest of the night and most of the day, drinking. Spike had already passed out, his chin propped up on the table.
“All of the waitresses love you. Every dog is your friend, whatever you say is just what you mean, so hoist three sheets to the wind!” they finished the song and, slamming their mugs together, spilling much wine in the process, the greedily and nosily guzzled down their contents before casually tossing the drained mugs behind their shoulders. They looked at each other and immediately broke out into a hysterical fit of giggling. Angel suddenly hiccupped and belched, which caused them to laugh even louder. DeGanon refilled Angel’s and his mug with wine,
"I tell you, lad,” DeGanon began, “It’s good to see a dead man enjoy his liquor,” Angel snorted,
“You should have seen me during my breathing days,” he stood up, a little unsteadily and jutted his chest out in pride, “I was the king of Galway as far as drinking and wenching went!” he declared before he tumbled back into his chair, laughing. DeGanon laughed, shaking his head,
“I believe it lad, as God as my witness, I do,” he chuckled and crossed himself, before leveling an inquisitive look to the inebriated vampire, “But there’s something I need to know, lad,” Angel looked up from draining his mug,
“Aye?” he replied, his voice unconsciously slipping back into his original Irish accent from his breathing days,
“The woman, Buffy, do you still have feelings for the girl?” he asked. Angel sputtered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, casting worried looks to the slumbering Spike. DeGanon followed his gaze and smiled,
“No worrying about that one, lad, he’s sleeping like he was in his mother’s arms,” DeGanon grinned and gestured to the wine, “Gypsy sprits: the devil's own blood!” Angel snorted,
“I doubt that,” he replied. DeGanon chuckled,
“Back to my original question, lad, Do you still have feelings for the slayer?” Angel swallowed another draught of wine and considered,
“It’s odd, I feel as if the best thing I could do for her is to stay as far away from her as possible. And yet,” he shook his head, “Life keeps throwing us together in these situations,” Angel frowned before bursting into another fit of hysterical laughter, “And God help me, I still love her!” he cried, throwing his mug away from him in anger and sinking his head into his hands. DeGanon regarded the vampire calmly and gently placed a weathered hand on his shoulder,
“Lad, you need to tell her,” DeGanon told him. Angel shook his head, not raising his head from his palms,
“I can’t do that, DeGanon. She’s moved on with her life,” he replied forlornly. DeGanon nodded,
“Aye, she has,” he gently propped the vampire up to look him in the eyes, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of that new life,” he said softly. Angel’s brown eyes flashed,
“That’s exactly what it means. Buffy is going to age and die and I’ll always be the same. She’s alive and I’m not,” he finished bitterly. DeGanon smiled indulgently,
“Aye, that’s true. She’s mortal, and you, at the moment, aren’t. And, divine intervention aside, that’s probably not going to change anytime soon,” he gestured to Spike, “But look at this poor creature. Moaning on and on about his Drusilla,” he leveled a gently admonishing glace at Angel, “They were both immortal, they were both vampires, neither of them we’re going to age. And where are they now?” he asked. Angel jus shook his head. DeGanon continued,
“The point is lad, is that it doesn’t matter WHAT you are, as long as WHO you are stays true,” he gestured at Spike, “You think HE gives a damn whether or not Buffy is going to age or not? This man doesn’t look any further ahead than his next bottle or brawl. And while that point of view certainly has its drawbacks, it does have one major advantage,” Angel scoffed bitterly,
“Yeah? And what’s that?” he asked derisively.
“Courage, lad,” the gypsy replied. “Sheer balls. It takes a lot of guts to say ‘To blazes with the future, carpe diem!’ you know?” Angel shook his head, not quite getting it. DeGanon sighed and rephrased,
“You broke things off with Buffy, because you were afraid that you couldn’t provide the kind of life for her she needed, right?” he asked gently. Angel nodded, “Well there you are, THAT was your mistake,” DeGanon informed him grinning. Angel frowned,
“What was, wanting her to have the right kind of life?” he asked puzzled.
“No, you great idiot,” DeGanon replied, “Being afraid. You were AFRAID that you couldn’t do it. That what you were would eventually overshadow the feelings you had for each other, and that’s a mistake,” DeGanon shook his head, gently admonishing, “Fear and love have no place together. When you love, you have to trust lad, you have to trust that somehow, there’s a plan. Call it God, fate, destiny, or just plain old fashioned, magic of love. True love, real love, always finds a way to work itself out,” he smiled slightly, “It may TAKE a couple of centuries to get all straightened out, but that’s usually because people can’t help monkeying around with the divine plan,” DeGanon finished grinning. Angel was still frowning,
“So, what you’re saying is I should just go for it and trust God to make it all right?” he asked disbelievingly, DeGanon shook his head,
“No lad, I’m telling you that you should love and rid yourself of fear, and the you’ll see some miracles,” DeGanon replied solemnly. Angel’s brow furrowed, lost in thought. Suddenly, DeGanon’s face broke into a broad grin and poured more wine,”
“But come now lad, let us drink our libation!” he declared loudly. Angel nodded and raised his glass to mirror DeGanon’s raised mug,
“Here’s to love, to life, to music and women and sex and wine and magic! Hallelujah AMEN!” he cried, slamming his mug into Angel’s loudly. Suddenly Spike’s head jerked up from the table,”
“Damn right!” he slurred throwing his fist into the air. He smiled at both of them drunkenly before his eyes rolled back into his head and he slammed face first into the table, hard. There was a groan and Spike rolled off his chair to collapse into a heap on the floor,
“Oh Bloody Hell,” he moaned softly before passing out. Angel looked down at the unconscious vampire and began to roar with laughter, leaning far back in his chair. DeGanon piped up,
“Angel lad, mind the…” and with a squawk of surprise and pin wheeling arms Angel toppled backwards over his chair to be deposited on the floor. There were a few moments of silence then Angel began to snore blissfully.
“…Chair,” DeGanon finished wryly. Chuckling he sipped from his mug thoughtfully, before getting up from his chair, steady as a rock. He regarded the comatose pair of vampires with a grin,
“Never let it be said that DeGanon Tepes couldn’t out-drink any man, living or dead,” with a mock toast to the pair, he quietly left the room.
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