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REPOST FIC: Human Layers 2 (Prologue)



Title: Human Layers 2: Soul Scars (Prologue)
Author: Pat Kelly
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's senior year, and while they know that some things will stay the same, Buffy, Cordelia, and the rest of gang also know that there're new challenges and changes ahead. Some of them, they'd never expect.
Spoilers: Season 3.
Disclaimer: All hail Joss and his army of Mutant Enemies. I don't own BTVS. I make no money. Long live UPN! Burn the WB!
Note: Hey, remember this? :-) Chapter 1 on the way. It took me forever, and I just wanna get it out, so please excuse any editing mistakes.
 

Prologue

-----------

 

Territory in California, May 1899

 

Yes, this was going to work out just fine. It wasn't as sterile as he would've liked, but considering the types of forces he dealt with in order to get the position, being given an office as clean as this one was a miracle; even though he didn't put much faith in that kind of thing anymore. Nothing came without a price -- promises would need to be fulfilled, and there was plenty he would owe once his term ended. Thankfully, he didn't plan on letting his constituents down, human or...miscellaneous. When they started arriving, he'd provide them with a prosperous, caring, multicultural community in which to live. He had a goal, and to reach that goal, the majority had to remain content. He wasn't foolish, however; there was a long road ahead, and loss would occur along the way.

 

Sometimes it'd be necessary loss, an inevitable fact that he'd accepted, but they'd all learn to respect each other's differing needs. Pleasing everyone was impossible, though his best efforts would be put forth, nonetheless. If a certain element became troublesome, taking action was well within his power. Especially if it interfered with his ideals. As with all politicians, his own agenda, of course, had the utmost priority. He convinced his 'supporters' that he could handlethe task, and if he didn't satisfactorily meet their demands, the eternal damnation of his soul would be the least of his problems. With that thought in mind, he carefully placed the last of the many idols to which he paid tribute, in his cabinet. You had to give before you could receive.

 

Going to his desk, hesat down in his chair just in time to greet his first visitor. He wasn't expecting him so soon, but it was better to get the minor issues out of the way now. In most cases he held the elderly in the highest regard, but when they refusedto adapt to the ever-changing world, they sadly chose not to become productive members of society, and that made them a 'troublesome element.' He had a strict policy, but he was not without a rational, compassionate side. Beginning the journey to a new future on a sour note would be such a downer, so he'd givehis guest a final chance to be a team player. It was good that patience was oneof his virtues.

 

"Hi there! My name's Richard Wilkins, and it's a pleasure to finally meet you," He said cheerily, extending his hand and turning his charisma on full blast, "Mr. Tanrael, isn't it?"

 

One of the few Old Ones still surviving in this dimension, Tanrael was rather surprised that a mortal would call him by name. After staying hidden for over a thousand years keeping the human pestilence out of his territory (though sometimes he'd let them settle just so he could one day see their faces as those they cared for were stricken with disease or punished with death), he had woken up to suddenly discover that buildings and streets had been erected on top of it. His true visage was more horrible than any written depiction, and it was only because of his abilityto shape-shift that he was able to fit within the confines of the office. He took the form of an elderly gentleman with long-flowing white hair wearing a red cloak, and his features almost seemed chiseled -- he resembled a more aged Rasputin, actually. Settlers often figured him to be the stereotypical warlock they'd heard about from some drunkard, and left immediately.

 

They had no idea he was something much worse. Very rarely did he have to demonstrate his power or bring wrath to the lesser beings. He'd seen the biggest of men weep and then relieve themselves, terrified simply by imagining what it was that he might do. Butthe man here now, had no fear of him; the man just took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off the nameplate on the desk. The ancient demon bellowed at this ignorance, added a screeching roar for effect, and then the seat placed on the opposite side of the desk was shattered to pieces with a look. Either to show that he could easily end the one-sided chat they were having, or that he just preferred to stay standing.

 

It was slightly disturbing to hear such an unnatural sound come from a human mouth and to see nice furniture go to waste, but the soon-to-be mayor of the brand-new town wasn't disturbed for long.

 

"Somebody doesn't practice good hygiene." Wilkins said, retracting his offered hand and fanning it in front of his face. "Where are my manners?" He reached into the desk and retrieveda small box. "Mint?" When it wasn't accepted, he popped it into his own mouth. "Where was I? Oh yeah. That's a shame, because my mother always said that fresh-smelling breath is the first step toward making friends. Do you have any friends?"

 

Tanrael remained silent, though he wanted to laugh at the question. Why hadn't he destroyed this bagof flesh yet?

 

His redheaded host frowned. "No, I didn't think so." It was clear that no other solution was going to present itself, so Wilkins rose from chair, made his way around the desk, and noticed the glow coming from inside his cabinet. "Well, I took my mother's advice to heart, and I'm glad I did. You see, she was right. Friends are important; you have to be there when they need you, because darn it, sometimes they're all you have. And boy, am I lucky to have lots. Wanna meet them?"

 

At this point Wilkinswas behind the demon, and a rift opened up to the left of them, by their feet. Only one demon was strong enough to punch a hole into this reality from the other side, and when the realization came to Tanrael, his human eyes went wide with fear. The Old One had not only kept out humans, but others of his kind as well. They were mixtures, though; they weren't of pure blood. They were abominations. Still, he should've known that his selfishness would catch up with him, that he couldn't keep the land covering the Mouth of Hell for himself, but it was too late now. Heat, and energy visible because of its pinkish hue emanated from the rift, but he felt the chilling touch of invisible, ghostly fingers enveloping him.

 

"I didn't want it to come to this; we could've made swell partners. Ushering in a new era..." The Mayor-Elect sighed. "I'm sorry, but I think it's time you went back home." He said, looking at the dimensional hole in his floor. "Oh, before you go...it'd be a real big help if you could just tell me where the orb is."

 

No. Tanrael had kept that well protected, and Gyrnn would make sure it stayed that way. He turned to face the human, who backed up just in time to avoid being lunged at and grappled. Within moments, the guest was being forced to leave, becoming formless as he was dragged down into the rift, moaning desperately. Straightening his tie as everything returned to normal, Richard Wilkins took a deep breath and rubbed his palms together. He had hoped to accomplish more, but he wasn't too concerned at the moment. The orb would be discovered in time -- which was one thing he wasn't going to run out of. There was only one problem with his town that he couldsee, and even though he'd talked it over with that kind, yet worried priest a few days ago, he still wasn't any closer to a decision.   

 

What was he going to name this place?

 

***

 

Sunnydale, September 1998

 

The fast approaching start of senior year was putting a slight damper on the final couple days of summer vacation for a cheerleader and her girlfriend, even though the sun was reflecting brightly on the water of the backyard, in-ground pool they were both occupying. Thankfully, the sunglasses Cordelia was wearing, along with the extensive amount of sunscreen she had on, shielded her from the full force of the UV rays. It was her pool, and she didn't want anything to ruin her relaxed state as she lounged on a float. She didn't use the pool that much, but nowthat Buffy had more or less spent the entire summer here (a certain rule of Joyce's left them no choice), she was beginning to appreciate its benefits.

 

Buffy was doing laps up and down the length of it, coming dangerously closer to splashing her girlfriend with each pass. Still, when the blonde came down her way, the brunette lowered her shades just enough so they rested on the tip of her nose, and then she allowed herself an eyeful of a tanned, lean, well-toned Buffy Summers in a white, thin two-piece that left little to the imagination. However, there was no objection, because in this case reality managed to surpass fantasy. And Buffy had another suit that she wore to the beach -- this one was just for her. It was a good thing, too, because Cordelia was territorial to a fault.

 

As the slayer turned around and started swimming back, she looked in Cordelia's direction and caught her staring. She grinned when their eyes locked, and the cheerleader matched it-- but only after her sunglasses were once again situated correctly on her face. Buffy waded over to Cordelia, the grin becoming a smile. She liked being admired by the girl she regularly made love to. Two people in a relationship havinga mutual attraction towards one another seemed to be pretty healthy. And the way Cordelia's abs were glistening thanks to the mixture of SPF 30, oil, and Mr. Sun, how could she not be attracted? You'd have to be a corpse not to; the kind that stayed dead, obviously.

 

"What're you looking at?" The brunette asked, and the blonde gaped.

 

See, the brunette was clearly looking up at the sky, so how in the hell could she have seen anything? It just didn't make logical sense. It went against all the laws of nature, for one. Sure, technically it was possible to twist and bend nature with the right magickal know-how and do-hickeys, but laws were still laws. They were cornerstones, and any rational person would tell you that...that she was probably able to see out of the corner of her eye, under the helpful cover of her black shades. Whew. Buffy was glad she had figured that out on her own, because she would've sounded like an idiot saying it out loud.

 

"I could ask you the same thing." Buffy responded huffily, but also with a hint of playfulness. "Say,you think this thing can hold both of us?"

 

She pressed on the float, testing it.

 

Cordelia immediately clutched the two sides of her lounging device, trying to steady it to prevent shaking. "I doubt it, and don't you dare."

 

"You doubt it?" The determined _expression_ that suddenly appeared on Buffy's face was *not* a good sign. "Well now I have to, cause that sounded like a challenge to me."

 

"It wasn't. Really. You're...'Flockhart Thin.'" Cordelia cringed as soon as it was out of her mouth. "I mean...damn it."

 

"So first I'm a blimpwho's gonna tip the thing over, and now I'm 'Anorexic Twig Girl'?" Buffy huffed. "Um, those are two, pretty extreme ends of the scale, you know. Which is it, Cordy?"

 

The cheerleader slid her glasses on top of her head, and in a last ditch effort used pleading eyes to get her girlfriend to rethink things. "It's whatever the happy medium is, okay? Please, just don't get on the float."

 

Buffy grinned again; she didn't break that easily. "Safe answer, I've gotta give you credit there, but I'm afraid that wasn't a choice. Thanks for playing, and oh, here's your lovely parting gift."

 

Cordelia's "no" died on her lips the second she saw Buffy deciding the best way to tackle the problem. So she closed her eyes and waited, feeling the float dip a little as the extra weight was added to it, and as a result, she felt water tickling the underside of her legs. Boy, it was cold; it took all of her willpower not to jerk at the change in temperature and knock them off. A few squeaks and a couple of splashes later, Buffy was sitting over her girlfriend's pelvic region (the least uncomfortable area), with her feet hanging off the sides. Then Cordelia opened her eyes.

 

"This has got to be against the law somewhere in the world." Cordelia wasn't exactly cold anymore. She swallowed and bit her lip as the person above her adjusted herself. "Not that I'm complaining or anything."

 

"Geez, the last thingI wanna do is get us into trouble." The blonde said, innocently. "I can --"

 

"No!" The brunette exclaimed. "It's probably only illegal in Alabama, anyway. As long as we don't make any sudden movements, we should be fine."

 

Buffy pouted. "But I thought the whole point of this," The slayer moved her finger back and forth between them, indicating their position, "was to move as much as possible."

 

"Not in the middle ofthe afternoon, Buffy." Cordelia told her in a matter-of-fact voice.

 

"How about in the middle of the night, then?" The blonde wondered.

 

"We'll see. Only if you're good." The brunette responded.

 

They smirked.

 

"If I'm good, huh? Isthis good?" Buffy leaned down to risk kissing her trapped girlfriend, and she was successful. "And I'm going to pretend that you didn't just spoil the momentby sounding like my mother."

 

"Yeah, that was pretty good, I guess. But try harder next time...*Dear*." Cordelia grinned evilly. "Wantme to show you how it done?"

 

"I might as well get into the school spirit now. Go ahead -- teach me. I'm a learner." Buffy was always game when the girl below her got that look in her eye.

 

"You asked for it." Cordelia winked.

 

And then with one, almost superhuman bucking of her hips, Cordelia sent Buffy flying off of her and crashing into the water. Then she gracefully slid off the float, stood by it, and waited for the slayer to surface. She ended up being the most surprised, though, because she felt arms go around her waist and pull her under. Buffywas nice enough, however, to provide Cordelia with air as she brought their mouths together. They stayed under for a minute at least, arms encircling the other's neck as they rolled and kissed.

 

The girls came back up at the same time, trying to catch their breath.

 

"Whaddaya know? I didlearn something." Buffy said, raggedly. "That it was your abnormal size that caused me to go airborne, and I had nothing to do with it."

 

Cordelia made a 'grr'sound, and smashed the water with her fists. "Let's go down the list for a second. Since you've known me, you've been insulted by association and thrown into a pool. Since I've known *you*, I've been kidnapped by Frankenstein monsters, invisible girls, and vampires."

 

"Uh, actually, only that last one's plural." The slayer pointed out.

 

The cheerleader just kept going. "I've been struck blind by a witch, I almost got eaten by a snake, and I've seen way too many graveyards after dark. And I know I left something out, but I think I've proved my point."

 

"What is your point?"Buffy innocently asked, feeling slightly guilty.

 

"All right, so it's less of a point, and more a question. Which is, why do I continue to put up with you?" Cordelia glared.

 

"Cause you love me?" Her girlfriend offered, hopefully.

 

"Oh yeah." Cordelia smiled, pushed Buffy up against the side of the pool, and started to kiss her again. "I stayed home instead of going on a three-month vacation to Jamaica with my parents for you, so that must be it."

 

Buffy smiled. "I'm real happy you did, by the way."

 

"You better be. Causemy father was two seconds away from having a heart attack when I told them the reason I wasn't going; my mother said she'd handle the damage control, though." Cordelia was glad for that. "But do you have any idea how clean the beachesare there?"

 

Buffy planted her hands on the outside edge of the pool, and hefted herself out so she was sitting on the concrete. "They don't still wanna meet me, do they?"

 

Cordelia reached her hands up, and once she got to her feet and bent down, the slayer lifted her out. "I had to go through it, and so do you."

 

"Man, it's freezing."Buffy commented, hugging herself. Dripping, they walked onto the deck where therewere towels waiting on chairs. "It's just...I'm not good at being all fancy and elitist-like anymore. Your dad doesn't have a phony British accent and wearone of those spectacle thingy's with a top-hat, does he?"

 

"Remember that talk we had about stereotypes?" Cordelia questioned as she grabbed two towels and shookher head.

 

She took one for herself and then put the other around her girlfriend's shoulders.

 

"Thanks. And you knowI'll do it, but I had to try at least one lame excuse." Buffy smiled at her. "Hey, isn't the gang coming back today? We should have an 'End of the Summer Party' at the Bronze tonight."

 

Willow, Amy and Miss Calendar had dragged their men to some sort of Witch/Wicca/Pagan/Magick-Related festival that was somewhere upstate, for the weekend. It was open to all practicing witches, and any guests they wished to bring along, provided that they were open-minded. Oz went to support his girlfriend's new interest, and Xander went because he heard about the festival Miss Calendar had gone to the previous year that had naked mud dances.

 

Cordelia and Buffy knew they should've paid more attention when they were being told the details, but they were too thrilled about having a weekend all to themselves, that they weren't able to hear much else. 

 

"I'm in." The brunette said, getting behind the blonde and pulling her into an embrace. "But technically, we can still have one more day of this."

 

"Yeah, you're right. Lucky us." Buffy said, happily. "Oh! Thanks to Willow, we'll have all the same classes."

 

"Wanna bet on who'll get sick of who, first?" Cordelia smiled.

 

"Well, it won't be me. I'd get an 'A' before I get sick of you, and we both know how far down the possibility scale that is." Buffy smirked.

 

"Come on, think positively." Cordelia encouraged. "I'm sure with all the studying we'll be doing after school, you'll even impress Snyder."

 

"Right. All the 'studying.'" Buffy made quote marks with her fingers. "The Pope coming to bless our school wouldn't impress Snyder, so what chance do I have?"

 

"It could happen." The cheerleader began kissing the slayer's neck. "It's not likely, but it could happen."

 

"Do this while we study, and it'll be hopeless." Buffy remarked contentedly, closing her eyes. "It's very --"

 

"Distracting?" Cordelia grinned.

 

"Something like..." In the midst of the slayer's response, the ground started to rumble violently, andthey stumbled and rocked, but before they could grasp anything it was over, and the plug at the bottom of the pool straight shot up into the air before plopping back down. "...That."

 

They turned to each other with wide eyes, and then ran to the pool to see that while the water had begun to recede, the sewage coming up through the drain stopped the process. The sight made them glad that they got out when they did. It was green and brown and goop-like and it was mixing with the chlorinated water, but most of all, itwas just plain disgusting.

 

"My parents are *so* gonna find a way to blame this on me. Gross!" Cordelia commented, and then she paled. "Where're my sunglasses?" 

 

The slayer frowned, and they both bent over to peer into the sludge. "Say a prayer for them, and hope they've gone to a better place." Buffy put a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, Cordy. They're goners."

 

Somehow, Cordelia managed to go even whiter. "Oh no. What if...?" She ran inside, and quickly called out. "Yuck!"

 

Buffy continued to stare down at the water, figuring that what happened here probably happened everywhere in town, but she didn't think it was an earthquake. Either the Mayor had a major public works issue to address, or this was somehow going to become part of her job. When she heard the deep, quieter rumble (which her slayer hearing toldher was more of an animalistic sound), she had her answer.

 

"And yet again, the Hellmouth signals the start of what's sure to be another thrilling school year." Buffy muttered.

 

With a sigh, she went inside to greet the mess.


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