Title: Repercussions, Reactions and Retaliation Book IV
Author: The Bear!
Spoilers: None really, this is in the Triadverse AU and follows RR&R Book III (it’s about a month later)
Pairing: Willow/Buffy/Tara Joyce/Giles Dawn/Xander Faith/Non-BtVS Characters
Summary: An enemy begins a campaign to bring down the Scoobies; plus, the Watcher’s Council is coming to town, but I repeat myself.
Warnings: NC17 (People will be having hot, sweaty, sticky, kinky, yummy sex in this story! (This chapter not so much) If that offends you, feel free to PISS OFF)
Disclaimer: If I owned ‘em, they’d have to show it on the Xstasy Network.
Author’s Note: I’ve neglected to thank my wonderful Beta Reader, Howard Russell, for the wonderful job he does on these. Of course, I’m too impatient to actually wait for the Beta before I post these parts, so any mistakes herein are mine. If you read it on my website, you’re getting the Beta’d stuff. Any errors there are still mine, but I can slough off a bit of the guilt for those onto Howard. ;)
========== BtVS ==========
Chapter 5(b)
“Hey Bro, long time no see.”
Xander’s eyes slowly opened. “Where am I?” he mumbled.
“Where do you think you are?”
Xander sat up. ‘Bed?’ he thought, looking down to see on what he was sitting. ‘Everything is white,’ he further thought as he took in his surroundings. “Is this a hospital?” he wondered aloud.
Laughter sounded out.
“Jesse?” Xander asked in shock as he turned his head to see the room’s other occupant.
“Who else, Bro?” Jesse answered from where he was sitting, sprawled out in a large, overstuffed chair across the room.
“I guess this isn’t a hospital,” Xander muttered, his mind filled with confusion.
“Duh,” Jesse answered sardonically. “You never were very quick, were you?”
“So, is this heaven?” Xander asked softly.
Jesse laughed again. “What the hell makes you think you’d end up in heaven?”
Xander’s mind shied away from the resulting conclusion. “What happened?” he asked, changing the subject.
“You got your ass shot off, remember?” Jesse asked with a smirk.
“Oh God, Dawn!” Xander suddenly remembered what had happened. “Is she ok?”
“How the hell would I know?” Jesse sneered. “I’m stuck here with your lame ass, ain’t I?”
‘Please, please, let her be ok...as ok as she can be, anyway,’ Xander fervently beseeched.
“Speaking of ass,” Jesse drawled out in a taunting voice. “I cannot believe you’re porkin’ some sixteen-year-old!”
“Hey!” Xander snapped, leaping to his feet and looming over his former best friend’s form. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”
Jesse seemed unfazed by Xander’s actions. “Well, maybe I’ve got it all wrong,” he said condescending. “Let’s take a look at it; is she sixteen?”
Xander just glared.
“So, that’s a yes,” he went on. “Now then, are you going to tell me you ain’t tapping that ass?”
“Shut up!” Xander screamed.
“Stop me when I lie,” Jessie taunted.
Xander shook his head, stumbling backward towards the bed. “You’re not Jesse,” he whispered. ‘Jesse would never talk to me like this,’ he told himself silently.
“Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Jesse said, standing up. “After all, you’re the one that killed me.”
‘This isn’t happening,’ Xander told himself, his eyes squeezing shut. “I didn’t kill you,” he explained, opening his eyes and seeing Jesse standing right before him. “A vampire killed you, I just killed the vampire.”
“Potato, potahto,” Jesse said dismissively. “Still a murderer in my book.”
“I am not a murderer!” Xander screamed. “Dusting a vamp is not murder!”
“What about stabbing a human through the heart?” another voice off to Xander’s right demanded.
A chill ran through his blood as he slowly turned his head. “Ben,” he whispered.
“You murdered me!” Ben accused.
‘Now, that is just creepy,’ the thought popped unbidden into Xander’s mind as Ben's appearance transitioned back and forth between his previous, uninjured appearance, and the burned and bloody appearance he had just prior to Xander killing him.
“What’s the matter, Xan?” Jesse taunted. “Cat got your tongue?”
Stiffening his resolve, Xander straightened his shoulders and stood upright. “I didn’t murder you Ben, I killed you, there’s a difference.”
“Oh, this ought to be good,” Jesse drawled. “Tell us, oh murderous child molester, what is the difference.
Ignoring Jesse, Xander forced himself to make eye contact with Ben. ‘Alright Xan, you and Dawn went over this, like, a thousand times...just say it.’
“It was war, Ben. Like it or not, you were the bad guy, and I had to do it,” Xander said with only a slight quiver in his voice. “It was you or the world, and I chose the world over you.”
“Glory was the bad guy, I was innocent!” Ben shouted.
“You were Glory!” Xander shouted right back. “She was a part of you and you knew what she was going to do!”
“I couldn’t stop her!” Ben countered. “I was just an innocent human, what was I supposed to do?”
“That’s a load of crap and you know it!” Xander shouted back. “You knew she was in you, and you knew she was going to destroy the world and you didn’t do anything!”
“What the hell was I,”
“Kill yourself!” Xander shouted, interrupting him. “You selfish bastard, you knew what was going to happen, and you could have stopped it, but you decided you were more important than the whole world!” Impassioned now, he continued his rant, “You should have killed yourself the moment you figured out that you couldn’t get rid of her! I would have done it, the people I’m friends with risk their lives all the time to protect people and keep the world safe. Any one of us, if we knew it was us or the world, would have done it in a heartbeat! But you, you selfish prick, you decided to risk the planet to save yourself. How many lives did Glory take, how many minds did she break, because you didn’t have the stones...”
“That’s a nice theory, Xander,” Jesse interjected. “But, we both know you didn’t do it for the world...you did it for that little slice you’ve been sticking it to.”
“That’s not...”
“What do you say, Ben?” Jesse continued, ignoring Xander now. “What should we do with a child-molesting murderer?”
The white light of the room began to pulsate.
“Well, he’s dead and all,” Ben said with a grin—still disturbingly switching back and forth from healthy Ben to beat-to-a-pulp Ben. “Why don’t we stick him in his box?”
The color of the pulsing light began to shift from white to an emerald green color.
“Great idea!” Jesse agreed.
Before Xander could move or speak, each of his tormenters had grabbed one of his arms and they swiftly dragged him backward.
‘No, Holy God, no!’ he thought, looking over his shoulder and seeing a rectangular hole in the ground where the bed had been.
He couldn’t even scream as they slammed him down into the hole, knocking the air out of him.
The pulsing green light above grew impossibly bright just before the lid of his coffin slammed shut.
========== BtVS ==========
[Knock, Knock, Knock]
“I’ll get it,” Joyce said, standing up and walking to the door.
‘Lovely,’ Giles thought with a soft sigh, as he still almost always did when watching his lover walk away from him.
“Faith?” Joyce’s voice had a note of surprise in it.
“Um, hey Ms. S...” Faith’s voice sounded tentative. “Is Jeev...uh, Giles around?”
Giles lifted one eyebrow in surprise at her correction.
“Sure,” Joyce said with a smile. “Would you like to come in?”
“Ah, if it ain’t a bad time or anything, I kinda, um...” Faith trailed off.
He stood up and walked to the door. ‘Good Lord!’ he thought upon seeing the younger Slayer. ‘She doesn’t look at all well.’
“Faith, what’s happened?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm.
“I need...Can I talk to you?” she asked, her body language screaming discomfort and unease.
“Of course,” he immediately responded, standing back to allow her entry.
‘Not at all like the usual swagger,’ he thought as she walked into the apartment, her hands twitching and clenching over and over and her posture extremely stiff.
“Look, I’m not good at, like, asking for help and stuff, but...” she trailed off, her eyes darting around the room, avoiding both him and Joyce.
“Please, sit down Faith,” Giles said, trying to project some reassurance.
“Do you want something to drink?” Joyce asked, her voice also projecting sympathy.
“Um...ok, yeah. I guess,” Faith answered, sitting on the edge of the couch, a palpable air of tension rising from her as she tapped her feet and clenched her hands.
“I’ll go put on some tea,” Joyce said tentatively.
He met her eyes and saw deep concern written in her gaze. He tried to smile encouragingly at her and then took a seat facing the agitated Slayer.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to go to...” Faith whispered.
“It’s quite alright, Faith.” He said in a soft voice. “Now then, tell me; what’s wrong?” His voice turned hard as something occurred to him. “Did that bloody pillock Travers say, or do something?”
“Actually...kinda,” she allowed.
‘Good Lord, her body language is practically screaming fear and uncertainty,’ he thought. ‘Relax old man...you don’t want to scare her off.’
“Whatever it is, I’m certain that we can find a way to resolve things, Faith,” he said as reassuringly as possible.
She nodded hesitantly, clearly unconvinced.
When she didn’t say anything for a moment, he gave a gentle prod, “I take it that your meeting didn’t go as well as we hoped?”
She snorted a brief laugh at that. “Nah, it went about like I expected...guy’s a real jerk, you know?”
“I’d say you’re being rather kind,” Giles dissented mildly.
“Yeah, so anyway...after the lecture and stuff I decided to hang around for a while down in the lobby. Wanted to see if he was gonna maybe take off and I could find out why he was really here, you know?” she explained.
“Good show, Faith,” Giles praised. “I imagine by the fact that you’re here now, that he did indeed meet with someone else?”
“Yeah,” she said with a heavy sigh.
‘I don’t believe I’ve seen her this openly vulnerable in all the time I’ve known her!’ Giles thought, fighting to keep the surprise out of his _expression_.
“He took a cab, I followed him...all the way to...to Alex and Beth’s house,” her voice was a pained whisper.
“Dear God!” he exclaimed.
“Oh no! Faith,” Joyce—who had just brought the tea tray out—cried out, sounding horrified.
“Yeah,” Faith nodded slowly, her anguished _expression_ striking a chord in his heart. “I just about tossed my cookies when that friggen cab pulled up in front of their house.”
“I should imagine,” Giles whispered hoarsely. “Such a betrayal...even for Quentin, this is...I would never have expected it.”
“See, I...I’m not sure,” Faith tentatively disagreed. “There’s like, circumstances and stuff.”
“So what happened? Did you...um, confront them?” Joyce wondered aloud.
“I heard them talking,” she began. “I went by the bathroom window off of the living room and I could hear them real good.”
Giles leaned forward, eager to hear what had been said.
“So it turns out, they said they were here to help me,” she started speaking at a more rapid pace. “Like emotionally and stuff. “Like the council hired them, or maybe just this Travers guy hired them...any way, they were here to make sure I didn’t, like, lose it and start doing the whole evil thing again, you know?”
‘Bloody unlikely,’ Giles thought, though he held his peace.
“But the Watcher guy was all pissed and said they weren’t doing what he wanted, which was basically spying on me, I guess,” she explained with an unsure frown. “Any way, he told them they had to go back to England and stuff, and they basically told him to piss off, cause they weren’t here to spy on me, but to, you know, help me and stuff.”
She picked up a cup of tea and stared down into the liquid, turning the cup round and round in her hand for a moment before continuing. “Then they were arguing some more and he was all, ‘What is it with these American slayers,’ cause he was pissed that you fell for Buffy- like in a father way,” she hastened to add. “And he was pissed ‘cause they fell for me...you know, like as lovers,” her voice was so soft as to be almost unintelligible.
Faith remained silent for several moments, spinning the cup and staring into her tea.
Joyce’s voice was impatient as she prompted, “What did they say?”
Faith looked up at Joyce, then at him, with tears in her eyes as she answered, “Beth said that it didn’t matter that they fell in love with me, because it only made them even more qualified to help me.”
Joyce gasped. “Oh, Faith, honey.” She reached out tentatively, grasping one of the Slayer’s hands.
Giles raised his brows in surprise when Faith jerked slightly, but didn’t pull away from the consoling touch.
“Extraordinary,” Giles exhaled in amazement. “Do you think they were...do you believe what was said?”
“I don’t know!” she exclaimed with a shrug and a helpless look on her face. “I mean, watcher guy got so pissed that he fired them and threatened to get it back to me that they were working for the council...why would he do that if it was all a setup?”
“That’s a fair question,” Giles mused.
“But they lied to me!” she nearly shouted. “How am I supposed to trust them?”
“Ahh, that too is a very important point,” he said.
She looked right into his eyes and asked, “What should I do?”
‘Good Lord, how in blazes am I to answer that?’ he nearly shouted in his mind.
“Do you love them Faith?” Joyce interjected.
‘Ahh, straight to the heart of the matter as it were,’ he thought, happily deferring in matters of the heart to his lover.
“I don’t know!” Faith nearly cried. “I mean, how the hell would I even know what love looks like?”
‘Oh dear,’ Giles thought. ‘That poor girl...I doubt she’s ever experienced love before—bugger if I’d know how to explain it to her.’
To his surprise, Joyce smiled and answered readily. “Do you miss them when you aren’t around them? Do you feel better about things just by being in their presence? Does the idea of not having them in your life make you feel empty and hollow? Would you do anything and everything you could to make them happy?” She finished her litany of questions with her eyes locked on his.
‘Again I have to wonder how I managed to be so very blessed,’ Giles thought with moisture beginning to collect in his eyes.
“That’s love?” Faith breathed, the sound of wonder in her tone.
Joyce turned her gaze back toward the Slayer and her smile was warm and loving. “Love is all that and more, Faith. But if you feel those things toward them...then I’d say yes, it’s a pretty good bet that you’re in love.”
“But...but...” Faith stammered, looking lost and bewildered. “They lied to me!” this time it was a quiet wail rather than a shout.
“And, unfortunately, it isn’t merely your heart at risk, though that would be difficult enough,” Giles said with a sigh. “I find it rather concerning that the council would take the step of sending someone to counsel you psychologically and yet not inform me, as your watcher, let alone deceiving you.” He shook his head sadly. “Certainly it would be counterproductive simply from the counseling aspect to deceive you in such a way...and with Quinton’s behavior it seems doubtful that he is interested in actually helping you.”
“You shoulda seen the look in his eye when I said it’d be better to kill me than lock me up again,” Faith said gloomily.
“I only wish that I could say I’m surprised by this turn of events,” Giles admitted wearily. “It seems rather likely that his warning regarding the last abduction attempt was in effort to manipulate the situation to his advantage rather than his interest in your continued freedom.”
“Yeah, X-man nailed that one,” Faith grumbled.
“Indeed,” Giles allowed. “The question now is what to do about Alex and Beth. If you—if *we*—cannot trust them, then it bodes ill for all of us as a group.”
“You have to talk to them,” Joyce interjected suddenly. “Give them a chance to come clean,”
“But what if it was a setup,” Faith countered. “I mean, how do I know?”
“Do you think they knew you were there, listening?” Joyce asked.
“Don’t think so,” Faith answered. “I mean, no way watcher guy saw me following, and there’s no way they could have known I was outside...unless they can see through walls and stuff,” she half-joked.
“I shouldn’t imagine they could,” Giles said, taking her comment more seriously. “Willow said that they were...human,” Giles trailed off as a thought occurred to him. “Yes, of course!” he said, taking off his glasses and pinching his nose.
“What?” Faith asked impatiently when he paused, mentally kicking himself. “Come on G-man, share with the class!”
“Willow,” Giles said with a shake of his head. “If Alex and Beth are truly interested in regaining your trust, they will doubtless confess themselves to you at the earliest opportunity, lest you hear Quentin’s twisted version first.”
“Yeah, so what’s Red got to do with it?” Faith demanded.
With a raised eyebrow at her vehemence, Giles explained, “A truth spell. Willow could easily compel the truth from someone.”
“I don’t know, man,” Faith began. “I’m not sure about using magic on them and stuff...”
“Well, we would of course need their permission, first,” he tried to reassure her. “While I have no doubt that a witch of Willow's ability could compel the truth from someone against their will, I would be very hesitant to do so—especially with a potential ally.”
‘Hmm, she looks unconvinced,’ he thought as she remained silent.
“Faith?” Joyce asked. “What’s wrong? Wouldn’t that help you to trust them again?”
“Yeah, I guess...” she began, sounding half-hearted at best.
“If their intentions toward you are genuinely benevolent, surely they would leap at the opportunity,” Giles said, confused by her hesitance.
“Yeah, it’s just...me and Red, we got...um...history, ya’know?” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact with both him and Joyce.
“Ah,” he said with sudden understanding. “You don’t trust Willow using magic on your lovers.”
“Well...” she started.
“I suppose we could ask Tara,” Giles offered. “She’s certainly quite capable...”
“No,” Faith interrupted.
“Well, I’m not certain as to the issues you may have regarding Willow; however, I...” he started.
“No,” she again interrupted. “You’re right. Red’s the best, and the issues I got are pretty much my problem, not hers.”
‘I wonder what that’s all about,’ he thought, remaining silent as he had nothing immediately to add to the conversation.
“Besides, it’s like you said,” Faith said, her sudden cheerfulness clearly forced, at least in part. “If they’re the real deal, they’ll be happy to do it, right?”
“I think we would all be reassured,” he said with a wan smile.
“Yeah, so...” Faith paused, her _expression_ one almost of dread. “I guess I’d better go talk to them, huh?”
========== BtVS ==========
“If I may ask, what are you thinking about?” Giles asked as he poured Joyce a fresh cup of tea.
“I don’t know, Rupert,” she answered with a deep sigh. “I have such mixed feelings about her.”
“Regarding this situation, or in general?” he asked as he handed her the cup.
“Yes,” she said with a wan smile.
‘I certainly shouldn’t be surprised,’ he thought as he nodded in response. ‘There are times when it can be easier to forgive, than to forget.’
“Sometimes I think about the life that poor girl has lived and I feel so sorry for her...and so angry at the way she’s suffered,” she started.
“But other times?” he prompted when she paused.
She looked at him and raised a brow questioningly.
“As you’re daughters would say, you have ‘but’ face,” he said with a grin.
She wrinkled her nose at him, but her lips quirked up into a smile. “*But*,” she dragged out the word. Her smile fell away as she continued though, “Other times I think about what she did to me...what she did to Buffy. I think about the fight that put her in a coma and how she stole Buffy's body—not only that, but what she did with it after.”
He reached out and covered her knee with his hand, trying to silently comfort her.
“Part of me wants to hate her, Rupert,” she whispered.
He nodded in understanding. “I believe that she herself suffers from a not insignificant amount of self-hatred.”
“And you?” Joyce asked.
“I can hardly hate her, despite the terrible things she’s done,” he started. “After all, I too am a member of the society of reformed villains, seeking redemption.”
Joyce set her tea aside and reached out to stroke his cheek. “It’s hard to think of you as a villain.”
“I appreciate that, however, I certainly was one.” He took her hand in his own and turned his head and kissed her palm. “In my youth I was guilty of far more than Faith has ever done, and with far less excuse.”
She squeezed his hand and gave him a sympathetic look.
“I must admit that I am concerned—quite concerned, in fact—with the revelation of the council’s ties to Faith’s paramours,” he added.
“Do you think that they’re dangerous?” she asked, sounding quite concerned.
Giles let go of her hand and sat back on the couch, sipping his tea while he considered the question. “Hmm, there is of course the concern as to their intentions toward Faith, and the damage they might do in that respect. However, I believe that the greater concern is the fact that the council—or at the minimum, Quentin himself—is interfering with her life.” He took another drink of his tea before elaborating, “Whether the goal was to control her, or disrupt her life for some reason...or perhaps both.”
“Do you think they were trying to hurt her?” Joyce asked.
“Who, the council?” he responded.
“No, Alex and Beth,” she clarified.
“Perhaps...though if so, their method seems somewhat circuitous,” he offered. “It is possible, I suppose, that they are no more or less than they have claimed. However, it is clear from Quentin’s behavior, that his intentions do not bode well. Not for her, and likely not for us as a group.”
He sighed heavily, thinking, ‘Bloody politics! Bloody pillock is more interested in politics and personal power than in saving the world from evil!’
“What is he trying to accomplish?” she wondered aloud.
“Power,” Giles responded automatically. “He may fancy himself to be looking out for the best interests of the world, but in the end, I don’t believe he truly cares about anything else. If he’s not the one running the show, then the world can just go hang itself.”
She snuggled up to his side and sighed. “I sure hope they’re what they say they are—for Faith’s sake.”
“Yes, well,” he further considered the situation for several moments. “Despite my somewhat knee-jerk reaction to doubt them, I would think that they probably are what they claim to be.”
“Really?” she said, sounding a bit surprised.
“Yes, well, I am having a difficult time imagining that what Faith overheard was a performance for her sake.”
“Why?” she further prompted.
“I simply don’t see Quentin being clever enough to plan and execute such subterfuge,” he explained. “For all his continual attempts at manipulation and political maneuvering, he isn’t nearly as subtle as he believes. Also, of course, there is the question at to what point there might be to such a ruse.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. “If he’s trying to trick her, what is he trying to trick her into?”
“Also, it seems foolish to throw away such potentially effective infiltrators if they are indeed working towards his goals. Even should they regain Faith’s trust at this point, it is unlikely that they could remain effective agents...anything the least bit suspicious in their behavior going forward would stand out like a flashing arrow.”
“We’d either catch them in the act, or use them to send back false information, right?” she asked.
“Yes, double agents and that sort of thing,” he replied with a smile. Sobering, he added, “Still, I shall rest much easier should they agree to a truth spell.”
They were both silent for a moment before Joyce whispered. “I wonder if she’s more afraid that they’ll refuse to do it, or agree.”
========== BtVS ==========
Xander gasped awake, blinking furiously to clear the green spots from his eyes.
“What the...” he cried, panting in fear, his mind racing. “God, what a nightmare!”
His panting breaths began to even out after a moment. “Damn, it’s dark...wait a minute,” he added as his surroundings began to register. “Am I on the floor?”
“Ow!” he cried as he tried to sit up and smacked his head hard. “Where am I?” he whispered in fear as his hands shot out at his sides and similarly struck hard surfaces.
“No...no! It can’t...I’m not,” he trailed off as realization set in.
‘Not a dream!’ his mind informed him as terror flooded through him. He screamed and began to flail about, bruising his hands and feet against his unyielding surroundings.
“Help! Help! Somebody help me!” he shouted as he scrabbled against the surface above him, tearing his nails as he looked for something, anything to help him escape.
A particularly hard push against the ceiling of his claustrophobic surroundings caused whatever he was laying on to move in the direction of his head, and his whole body stilled.
“What the hell?” he muttered, suddenly calmer, though his heart continued to race and his pulse pounded in his ears. Tentatively, he pushed against the sides of his prison, and again the floor moved several inches, coming to a stop with a metallic clunk. “What kind of coffin has a rolling floor?” he whispered to himself.
With that question came other realizations. “I’m naked...under a sheet,” he realized. “They don’t bury people naked...at least I don’t think so?” He reached down to his sides, feeling around.
‘It’s some kind of...like a tray? Wait a minute...tray...I know this.’ he thought. “Come on brain, work!”
‘Morgue!” his mind shouted with joy as his hands reached past his head and gave a mighty shove.
“Oh thank God!” he sobbed when the morgue drawer popped open, sounding like the door to a refrigerator. Quickly he scrambled out of the cold opening, falling awkwardly to the floor. He ignored the discomfort of his bruised limbs and curled up hugging his knees to his chest and weeping with relief.
“Not dead! Oh, thank you!” he chanted softly for a few moments, rocking back and forth.
“Why am I not dead?” he asked a minute later as he composed himself sufficiently to stand up. “Definitely remember getting shot...wouldn’t have put me in a morgue drawer if I’d been alive, would they?” He quickly reached his fingers to his neck and felt for his pulse. “Heart beating...really fast, but definitely beating!” he said thankfully. “So, not dead...but I must have been.”
He reached behind him, feeling his back. “No holes.” He looked back at the drawer tray he’d recently occupied. “I was definitely bleeding at some point,” he thought aloud, seeing the stained sheet and red-coated metal. Noticing a lump under the sheet, he flipped it back and gasped at the sight. “Bullets...they really shot me!”
He picked one up and looked closely at it, seeing blood and bits of meat sticking to the part where the copper was coming away from the lead. A wave of nausea hit him and he dropped the slug, frantically looking for somewhere other than the floor to empty his stomach. He just made it to a sink along the opposite wall before retching.
A minute later he was leaning over the sink, trying to calm his breathing and to keep from another bout of dry heaves. ‘What’s happening to me...I should be dead! I mean, I’m glad I’m not, but how? Why?’ his mind whirled. ‘No way Dawn’s got enough mojo to bring me back, does she? And if she did, where is she?’
“Think Xander, think!” he commanded himself. “Can’t have been very long ago, or I wouldn’t still be in the box...I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t start the autopsy right away!”
‘Oh no...Dawn!’ his mind shied away from the image of his narrowly-escaped autopsy and stuck on another horror. ‘She watched me die!’
“Please let her be ok!” he offered up a desperate prayer. “I gotta get out of here, I...” his attention locked onto a paper sack on the counter next to him. “DB, Harris, Alexander L. Personal effects,” he read the attached label. “DB...that’s gotta be dead body. Great, now I can’t tease Angel about being Dead Boy anymore,” the non sequitur spilled out unintentionally.
He grabbed the bag and tore it open, dumping the contents on the counter. “Crap! I can’t wear that!” he groused upon seeing his shirt, matted with dried blood. “At least everything else is...Yes! Wallet with cards and hotel key still in it! Now if I can just,” he trailed off, simultaneously starting to get dressed and looking around for anything that might replace his destroyed shirt.
‘Lab coat,’ he thought spying the very thing. ‘No, that’s not gonna be real obvious.’ He finished pulling on his pants and tucking away his wallet, cross, stake and mini-squirt gun with holy water. ‘I bet that confused ‘em!’ he thought with a slight grin.
“Maybe I can tuck it in?” he wondered aloud, returning his attention to the coat. “It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options here; I just gotta get out of here and get to Dawn!”
========== BtVS ==========
========== BtVS ==========
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