Cordelia Chase walked right through the front doors of Wolfram and Hart amid the ordinary bustle of a workday afternoon. They were hoping that with Fred right in front of her on one side and Tara hovering right by her left shoulder, no one would recognize her. Gunn kind of hid behind the others as well, and Buffy led them all. They set off the metal detectors. Buffy gave the front door guard her best vapid blonde expression and fiddled with the metal clip in her hair. He rolled his eyes and waved them through.
"I thought you couldn't do the prima donna thing now," Cordelia said softly off a sudden thought. "Now that you're all back from the dead and numb and all."
"I had a good teacher," Buffy said back.
Fred stared at them both as if she was afraid a quarrel would break out, but Cordelia grinned. She had forgotten how much fun Buffy-baiting could be. Of course, it had been easier when she had been at the top of the Sunnydale High popularity chain and Buffy the delinquent--but even though their status was now roughly equal, the dynamic was still the same.
Gunn shouldered his way around the girls and made straight for the elevator. "First floor, records and security," he said in a businesslike tone to the lawyer standing next to it.
"New clients should check in first on the fourth floor. At what time is your appointment?"
Gunn pulled a piece of paper from his front shirt pocket; it was a video rental receipt, but the lawyer leaned over Gunn's shoulder to read it. Gunn knocked him out with one swift blow to the temple and held the elevator doors with his other hand.
The next moment, Buffy, Fred, Tara, and Cordelia were all jammed into the elevator, and the doors slid shut as Gunn piled on top of them. He pushed the first floor button, then withdrew his crossbow. "Weapons out, they know we're here," he said.
Cordelia found herself in the corner right next to Buffy. The Slayer's head barely came to Cordelia's ear, but her features were pure venom.
"Since when did you and Angel get so close?" Buffy hissed.
Cordelia answered without thinking. "He almost always picks out the exact right words to say. Unless he's on a world saving mission or something, and then it's like he forgets social rules ever existed, but that's when he needs you the most."
"That's why. I know what a great guy he is. I want to know when."
Something clicked, and Cordelia laughed. "You think I'm gonna steal brood-boy?"
"Are you?"
"Are you worried?"
"Please. You've tried before. He was sitting at the Bronze with you when you had showed up on time looking your best, and I entered and left late with hay all through my hair and he followed me out. I bet you still bore him."
Cordelia snickered.
Buffy elbowed her. The blow was enough to deflate Cordelia's entire right lung. She gasped.
"I think I have to separate you," Fred said, literally stepping between them. "Has anyone noticed how long we've been in this elevator?"
"We aren't going down," said Tara.
A white light appeared at the top of the elevator just as Gunn said, "I have a bad feeling about this." The light spread down, washing right through the five of them.
Tara gasped as the light touched her.
"What is it?" said Buffy, catching Tara's arm as the taller girl swayed.
"Willow. I could barely feel her before, but now...I've always known I'd know if anything happened to her..."
Cordelia never found out what Tara meant by that, whether she thought something terrible had happened to Willow or whether she'd lost the sense that Willow lived--because a high-pitched lisping voice from the ceiling proclaimed, "She lives. Her final fate is in your hands. Enter."
"Melodramatic much?" Cordelia whispered as they spilled out into a room of light. It was like standing inside a glass fixture, because there was nothing but white in any direction.
She felt, rather than heard Buffy whisper, "I'm not really here again."
The Slayer looked...well, Cordelia had heard all the jokes that Buffy had to invent the plural of the word "apocalypse"--but so did Angel--and Cordelia had never thought there was any difference. She had always thought that the people one ought to feel sorry for were the people who were thrust into this world of strangeness and pressure, and that included her, Gunn, Fred, and Tara, as well as the heroes. But Angel drew a peculiar kind of strength from crises. He could lose people, he could get hurt, but he couldn't be worn down by fighting because the fighting gave him strength. Even an apocalyptically bad connection was still a connection. Buffy was exactly the opposite. She was full of love--she wasn't really a warrior at heart, not even as much as Cordelia, let alone Angel. Each apocalypse had taken its toll. Cordelia's ribs still bore the impression of Buffy's elbow, and yet she saw a tiny, tired, too-thin little girl raising her head to a challenge that was already far beyond one challenge too many.
"In case we die," Cordelia whispered to Buffy, "I'm not after Angel. He's my best friend now, but don't forget I just put Willow in big trouble bringing back the guy I want to date. Okay?"
"Will got herself in trouble," Buffy replied, "but thanks."
"Not that Angel might not choose me, but please--"
"You're here." It was the same voice, but this time the speaker came into view. She was only a child, no more than six years old, but her voice bore the threat of the thing she really was rather than a little girl. Her next words confirmed that: "You want the witch." The light floors, ceilings, and nonexistent walls suddenly resembled movie screens, and a similitude of a redheaded girl bound to a chair appeared. Willow was unconscious, and there were traces of blood through her gag. Tara sobbed, and Buffy made a choking sound.
"You know she isn't here," said the child who was not a child.
"Give her back, and you won't get hurt," said Buffy.
The girl stood her ground. Buffy advanced, deliberately raised her fist, and backhanded the girl, who went flying.
The child stood in one fluid motion, bearing no marks, and then Cordelia was standing with the others in front of her again, although neither had moved.
"That was freaky," said Fred.
At the same time, Gunn said, "What do you want?"
"The witch's power has been her undoing."
"Duh," Buffy said. "You done with the bad posturing? Gunn asked a pretty good question. What do you want?"
The little girl was silent.
Tara stepped forward, raised her hand, and blasted the child back almost out of sight. There was no blurring of reality, but they were standing as they had been, positioned as if nothing had happened.
"You've proved we can't threaten you, not that way, at least," said Buffy.
"Good. I want to show you the way to take the witch's place."
"Done," said Buffy and Tara in unison.
They started to argue quietly, but the little girl smirked and cut them off. "Not physically take her place. The timeline must change, and the witch has refused to will it so, so one of you must do it instead."
"Quit calling her that," said Buffy. "We're talking about Willow."
"Willow has to have reasons for not doing whatever it is with time," Cordelia hissed, but the child ignored her.
"Would you change time to have your love given back to you?" she said to Buffy.
Cordelia didn't speak again, but her horror grew and grew as the picture of Willow disappeared and the real movies started on the light-screen all around her. That day when Angel had been human in L.A. and Buffy had been there, the day that Cordelia couldn't remember at all because it had never happened through Angel's choice, played itself out in vivid detail all around her. She couldn't even cheer the screen version of herself on for griping to the screen Buffy about her pain in losing Angel Investigations--it was all too real, and too horrifyingly possible. She watched Angel choose to give his life to something greater, and she watched the scene fade out with Buffy sobbing, "I'll never forget," into Angel's shoulder.
The room faded back to white.
For the first time since she had arrived in L.A., Buffy visibly fought tears.
"You see? Angel changed the timeline first, with the blessing of the Powers you work for," said the girl. "Make a choice. Change time back. You can have the day. You can be a normal girl waking up in the arms of her normal boyfriend."
Buffy hovered a long moment.
Cordelia waited. Without the vampire Angel...would she simply have gone on to an acting career? Would Doyle never have died?
"What...what would happen to Dawn?" Buffy finally said.
The girl grimaced.
"I'm not making any choices unless you show me," Buffy said. "Somehow...I can feel you can't lie here."
Reluctantly, the child gestured and another scene formed. Dawn was visiting Faith through the bars of a prison jail cell, and Glory burst into the room.
"Stop," said Buffy. "I know how this will end, and I can't watch it."
They were standing in light again. "You did ask."
"Dawn...would have been Faith's sister instead of mine?"
What in the world, Cordelia thought.
More images. Buffy and Angel together at UCC Sunnydale. A blonde guy who Buffy called "Riley" seeing her with Angel, shaking his head and walking away. Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Spike over the ruins of the Hellmouth. Buffy diving into the Hellmouth to catch the last demon as it dived in. A demon corpse flung up over the edge. Nothing else. No Buffy emerged. "Riley wasn't there to save you," someone narrated. Monks gathered around a glowing ball of light. "Hide the Key," they chanted. "The Slayer's sister," someone added. Dawn was back with Faith in that jail cell. Again the picture stopped.
"No, thanks," Buffy managed to say.
She looked so shaken that Cordelia reached out to her--but Tara got there first. Who completely supported whom wasn't clear, but Tara gently wiped the tears out of Buffy's eyes and said, "She said no. We're leaving. We'll find Willow another way."
"Are you so sure you won't change the timeline another way," said the little girl.
Two ordinary-looking people appeared. They were on the invisible screen, but they looked even more real than the previous scenes, as if they would almost have substance if one reached out to touch them.
"No!" Fred shrieked, and she shouldered around Gunn and began to run.
Fred's legs covered ground--actually, a lot of ground--but she never got any further away than the back of the group, although everyone else stood still. "Fred," the screen woman called out. "Fred, sweetie, it's us!"
"Winnifred," the man added.
"No! I'm fine here--no!" After a few more moments, Fred stopped running, although she didn't turn around. "You're not really here," she said.
"You could make it real," the child said implacably.
At the same time, the woman said, "Where have you been, Fred?"
Fred turned around as if forced. "I was--I was five years and--and so lost, and at night I would--I was all by myself, and you weren't there!"
The man said, "Fred, I don't understand."
"I got lost. I got lost and they did terrible things to me, but it was just a storybook. It was just a story with monsters. Not real. Not in the world, but if you're here and you see me, then--then it's real! And it did happen! If you see what they made of me--I didn't mean to get so lost!"
Gunn touched her on the shoulder, turning her away. "We all invent stories," he said gently.
"You could make it be just a story," said the child.
"What?"
The screen showed a much younger Fred--and thankfully, a much younger Fred looking just like a character in a picture rather than almost-real. She held open a book in a library. She opened her mouth to read the words aloud. Then she shut her mouth and put the book back on the shelf.
Fred didn't even look vaguely tempted. "Everyone else would have died in Pylea, wouldn't they?" she said. "Angel and Cordelia and Lorne?"
Screen pictures quickly confirmed that. Cordelia refused to watch her screen self burned alive during a vision. No way Fred would choose that. This test, at least, they had won. Cordelia thought she could hear Fred hissing softly, "Besides, five years of unendurable torture and mental anguish aside, if I hadn't been sucked through the portal I never would have figured out my string compactification theory."
The little girl looked distinctly irked as the room faded back to white.
"I know you're evil," Fred added. "I could always feel that."
"How in the world would Fred's choice rescue Willow, anyway?" said Tara.
"Tara," said the child. "Tara Maclay. Junior witch. Willow would have been a lot better off without you, you know."
"Don't listen to it," Buffy hissed.
Tara and Willow were onscreen in a college room that must have been Tara's. Rather cool taste, Cordelia thought abstractedly. There was spell stuff all over the place. Willow was sitting on the bed, explaining something about wanting to keep Tara to herself for a little while.
"I am, you know," onscreen Tara said.
"What?" said onscreen Willow.
"Yours."
Watching, there was light in Tara's eyes, although it seemed that worry was wearing down the older witch as well. "Yeah, that's h--how it happened," she said. "I don't see why I would ever want to change it."
"We're going forward in time. This is what is," said the child, "not what was or will be."
Images flashed too quickly to truly perceive, but Cordelia caught a Willow with ink-black hair and a murderous expression, using power left and right. There was a red-headed Willow interspersed with the darker figure, but also spewing power all over the place. One image stayed in a corner. Tara, lifeless, blood deep through and over her right shoulder.
Tara looked even more shaken than Buffy, but she stood her ground.
"If you had never met Willow, she would never have been a witch," said the child. "She would never have done, or be going to do, these things."
Present-day Willow appeared, moaning around the ropes and gag. Someone off screen slapped her.
"Turn back the clock, Tara," said the child.
"I'm not playing with your damn timeline," said Tara. "And Willow is worth dying for. If you knew her, you'd know that."
"Is it harder, killing for someone or dying for someone?" said the child.
Gunn stepped forward, having to take his arms from around Fred's shoulders to do so. "Not happening," he said. "I know what you're going to do. You're going to offer me my sister back."
Indeed, those were the screen images now. An impossibly young Charles Gunn whispering goodbye to a beautiful black woman as he drove a stake through her heart.
Gunn didn't even look at it. "You're going to give me the whole line about how it's not fair. Two people are back from the dead, and those I love aren't. Well, guess what? I have something to fight for now. Something to live for. And I don't need ghosts. Get out of my mind."
They were standing on a white floor again. "Very well," said the child. "Your Willow is not as strong as you think, you know. We will not let her die until she changes the timeline herself."
"Aren't you going to test me?" Cordelia demanded. She pushed ahead of Buffy, trying to be the strong one in her group of friends.
"Cordelia Chase," said the little girl. "You already failed."
"I did no such--"
"You brought back the one you love from the grave. You changed what must be for the sake of your own heart. You failed."
The girl herself faded into the white, and then they were all standing outside the door of Wolfram and Hart. Scowling security guards warned them they would no longer be able to just march into the door. They were outside, instead of standing in that eerie white. More time must have passed in that room than appeared, because they had entered the office in the afternoon, but it was now well past midnight. Even the starlight seemed to have paled. From somewhere below, there was a scream.
