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Author's Chapter Notes:
Tissue warning, folks
APRIL 8, 2005

"Are you completely out of your mind! I am not putting the Slayers' lives in danger, not to mention Buffy's when there is no proof whatsoever that this is anything but some sick concoction of yours," Giles paused, taking the time he needed to gather his breath, as well as the venom needed to finish his address of this creature, "Angelus."

Angel winced at the contempt that the old Watcher had for him, "I don't care what you think of me," he said softly, "And I know you don't trust me, and you shouldn't. But numbers don't lie. Those numbers," he said, pointing to the papers in Giles's hand, "Are totally skewed. If this is more than just an accident, some freak of nature, a one in a million thing? Then, we need to be prepared," he shook his head, "because this even has me scared. And I used to be good at the apocalypse thing. Both stopping them," he put his head down, overcome with the stress of the things that had happened over the last few months, "And causing them."

Giles looked at Angel's demeanor. Instead of being open, with a wide stance that would convey confidence, he was closed in tightly, trying to look small. Seeing that caused a chill to spread out over his limbs, "You're not lying to me, are you?" he asked.

"No," Angel said as he took a small plastic bag from his pocket, and threw it on the coffee table in front of Giles. The bag was clearly marked with the label, "Police Evidence," "But, if you don't believe me, there are some things in there," he gestured toward the bag on the table between them, "that might change your mind. Those are some of 'Lorraine Angelus's' personal effects. They were found on her the night she died. They were released to her 'father' before she was cremated," Angel turned to leave, "You may be shocked at what you find in there," he squared his shoulders, "I know I was," he said as he closed the door.

Giles looked over the contents of the bag. There was a small journal, apparently belonging to someone named Jonina Irene Dustin. It looked well worn. So that was her name. Giles had a penchant for being able to call up the most obscure meaning of a word. It helped him to understand Latin more easily.

Her name denoted strength. Without knowing it, her parents had befitted this anonymous girl with a name that any Slayer would be proud to have. Dustin, Jonina Irene was a "Valiant Dove of Peace."

The wheels began to turn in his head as Rupert began to sift through the meager belongings of this unfortunate young lady. Dustin. He was sure he'd heard that name somewhere before. Yes. That was the name William used. It was the name Buffy had taken when she'd wed him.

Oh, God.

He began to search franticly over the scraps of a life he didn't know, but now through tragic events, must begin to know intimately.

To his horror, he found something he recognized. A tiny silver wedding band with an inscription he knew well, "W.E. are one."

With trembling hands, he opened the small, worn leather bound notebook to a random date. The detail with which the scene was described transported Rupert Giles through time and space, to a world he did not want to know.
*******************

DECEMBER 2, 2027

Willow knew that the end was coming soon. She'd seen this happen with all the Slayers, eventually. It just never happened this fast. Maybe he just missed her too much to put up a fight anymore.

She only hoped that she would be able to take care of Jonina the way he wanted her to when the time finally came.

Willow slipped quietly into the sickroom, trying to tune out the sobbing that was filling the room. Georgina saw her and left Joni to her grief. The two of them went out into the hall, both out of respect and to escape the sorrow that was taking the air out of the room, "It's happening fast," George said, "I don't know what Joni's gonna do," she sounded tired and on the verge of sobbing herself, "He's her world. Once he's gone..."

"I know. He tried to prepare her. But there's just no preparing for something like this. And, if Joni ever found out...Well Spike has been spending what little strength he has making me swear to him that she won't. He's afraid of what she'll do, when the reality finally hits her."

"Has she had any rest?" George asked, peeking in the room and noticing how frail she looked. Even more frail than he did, and he was, sadly, on his deathbed.

Willow shook her head, "No. I've tried to make her come away. I even tried telling her that having her sick too is not what her Daddy would want, but nothing's worked. She won't budge an inch. She says she doesn't want to miss anything," she nodded to herself, the tears started to flow down her cheeks, "But he can't even see her anymore," she sniffed, "I doubt he even knows she's in the room."

George fought to maintain a quiet respectful tone, when all she really wanted to do was go into that room and hold Joni, and cry like a baby because she was losing a friend, just as Joni was losing a father, "But she will know, Willow. And, that's all she has right now."
*******************

Joni tried to be strong. She tried to be brave. But how could she when her Daddy was dying, and of the same thing that killed her Mom? "Lace." What a pretty name for such an ugly, disgusting and vile thing. There was nothing pretty about what, "Cassandra's Lace" did, to anyone.

If it were anyone but her Daddy lying there, she could have been more clinical about the whole thing. She could appreciate the beautiful brutality of the thing. She couldn't the first time, she'd been only ten. All she'd understood then was that her Mom had been taken away from her. She was older now. Her Daddy, and the Slayers had been fighting this thing almost from the time she was born. She should have been used to it. But she wasn't. She hated it.

And she hated her Daddy even more because, when he'd been different, he hadn't thought of her, or the future. He only saw Mom. But he couldn't save her.

And then the change happened. Something he'd forgotten about happened. And, now she was losing her Daddy because he forgot about everything. He forgot about her. Forgot about how she would feel.

She hated him for that.

Joni tried to be brave as she surveyed the damage the virus had done to him. She tried to see him through the shimmering mist that was over her eyes. She wasn't crying. Her Daddy wouldn't want that.

The broken capillaries under his skin gave it the appearance of red lace. It was this that gave the virus its deceptively benign name. The buildup of pressure in his brain had destroyed his optic nerve, rendering him blind. The pressure, coupled with the virus's insatiable need for nerve tissue, had slowly eaten away his voluntary muscle control. If it hadn't been for his strong physical condition when he'd first been infected, as well as his, "special" circumstances before, he would have been dead weeks ago. Instead, he lingered for months.

He had known the horror of his death from the moment the change occurred. He had given up on the idea that things would change, so when they did, it was a shock.

He began to mourn Joni's loss with her, almost from the start. Because of that, because he didn't want to leave her, he held on long after he should have let go.

"Daddy, can you hear me?" she asked as she held his hand, "I'm here, Daddy. It's 'Dove.' I'm here," she murmured.

He may not have been able to see or speak, but he could still hear her. She didn't know if that was a blessing or a curse. He still had some muscle control, probably due to his indomitable will, and he turned his head, slowly and painfully toward the sound of her voice.

Sightless eyes blinked in acknowledgement of her, and tears glossed over them as his jaw worked to clench muscles that had long since been deaf to his commands.

"It's all right Daddy," she said, as her own tears mixed with his, "You don't have to talk. You've said it all before. I know. I know. I'm a big girl now Daddy," she said as she smoothed his brown curls from his forehead, "And, I can fly on my own, just like you taught me," her voice seemed too small for her throat, "It really is okay, Daddy," she nodded, "I know you're tired of fighting. Even you have to stop sometime. You've been doing it for so long now. I know you're very tired, and I know you miss her so much," Jonina watched as the tears came faster, somehow, as if he were begging her to forgive him and let him stay, "I miss her too," she sobbed, "Daddy, tell Mommy I love her. It's all right, Daddy."

With one last, chaste kiss, a daughter said goodbye to her father for the final time. There would be no coming back from this journey. As she watched his eyes drift shut, she moved stiffly to inform her family that her Daddy was gone.
**********

Giles's hands trembled as he read the words. If this girl was who she seemed, then she held inside her a warning that they must heed. Or they would all die.





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