Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgment break
Excellent and fair.’
Emily Dickinson
“Careful Angel, don’t drop that urn,” Vail’s rasping voice cut through the silence of the room.
Startled, Angel looked up before grasping the urn more firmly. He slowly straightened up and turned to face the warlock. Everyone else froze, their eyes darting backwards and forwards between the vampire and the warlock.
“What’s the matter Vail?” Angel inquired casually, “You look scared. Worried I’ll drop your precious heirloom or is it that you’ve got the ashes of some dearly departed demon kin in here?”
“More like a live demon than a dead relative,” Vail responded cautiously. “You know Angel, I’m surprised you haven’t recognised that urn. It contains an old enemy of yours. I believe you’re responsible for his present abode.”
Angel glanced at the vessel in surprise. “Sahjahn?” He turned to Vail for confirmation. At the old warlock’s brief nod he frowned and questioned further. “So what’s it doing here? It’s a little morbid don’t you think? Or is it part of some weird mint condition, limited edition, demons trapped in a vessel collection?”
Vail smiled wryly. “Hardly,” he retorted. “In fact I prefer my mortal enemies dead rather than trapped. It’s far too fragile a vessel for my liking. After all accidents can happen,” he indicated the half toppled cabinet and the dead demon wedged at its base, “and urns tend to break.” He shuddered dramatically before waiting for Angel’s reaction.
In the meantime, Buffy, who had taken a step back after finally being freed from the immobility spell, had looked down to see Sagaria, her Slayer scythe, gripped firmly in her right hand. It had materialised from out of the ether, where it had been waiting patiently since Willow’s initial command, waiting for its mistress to be free to receive it. Buffy looked down at the weapon with something akin to fondness. It was a beautiful implement, strikingly fashioned and perfectly balanced. It not only felt right in her hand, it seemed to imbue her with wisdom and courage, and a little more patience than she normally had.
She was standing a little behind Vail and to his left, just out of his peripheral vision. Half listening to the conversation between Angel and the old warlock, she silently moved to her right and forward a step until she stood directly behind him. She relaxed slightly, feeling Sagaria humming in her right hand, waiting for some signal to indicate whether she would need to act. Willow stood with Giles and Rowan just beyond Vail, and the witch, catching the Slayer’s subtle movements looked up and caught her eye. She delicately raised one eyebrow in Buffy’s direction and nodded her head, almost imperceptibly, in encouragement.
From behind Vail, Buffy couldn’t see the way the sorcerer’s eyes followed Angel’s every movement and widened in alarm at the casual way the vampire had the urn hooked under his arm. But his rigid stance clearly communicated the degree of tension running through his body. He was watching Angel, who appeared to be having a silent conversation with himself.
Seemingly unable to mask his anxiety in any way, Vail called out once more. “Please Angel, a least hold the thing more firmly.”
Angel paused, looking up in surprise, before shrugging and nonchalantly sliding the pot to his chest. “Interesting that you should use the term ‘mortal enemy’. Makes this guy pretty serious business I guess. But the thing I’m wondering is, if as you say you’d rather this guy deceased than bottled, then why not take advantage of a room full of strong, skilled warriors. I’m sure,” at this he glanced around the room, “we’d be happy to offer some sort of trade off. Say one dead demon in return for an Amulet?”
“No deal,” Vail spat out. “Whilst I appreciate your generous offer, the only person capable of killing Sahjahn is not currently present. It’s a prophecy,” he waved his hand dismissively, “a tiresome thing really. On that matter you and I will have to converse further, but this is neither the time, nor…” he gazed around them, “a private enough setting.”
“Hmm, so we seem to have a stalemate,” Angel summed up. “Or… I could just open this urn up anyway, wait till Sahjahn kills you, and then take the amulet. Everyone okay with that?” Angel raised his eyebrow at Vail as murmurs of assent and approval echoed around the room.
Vail bristled with anger; allowing his outrage at Angel’s threats to, temporarily at least, override his fear. “I wouldn’t play that game if I were you Angel. Don’t forget I’m a very powerful warlock, able to manipulate time, able to reconstruct memories. But I can also restore them should I wish. Do you know what I have here Angel,” he said quietly, holding out his right palm, using his left to produce a shimmer of light that morphed quickly into a small ornate box. The edges and corners of the box were wrought from gold, and illuminated from within; it gave off a bright, pulsing glow.
“This is an Orlon Window Angel. It's a fascinating little spell. It allows warlocks such as myself to see the past as it once was. You have to be careful with it, though. If it were to break around someone whose mind had been altered,” he waved his hand near his head, “then all his old memories would come rushing back.”
Angel eyes widened in shock as comprehension set in. He glared at Vail and started towards him, one arm still wrapped around the urn.
“Careful, Angel.” Vail lifted the cube a little higher, preparing to throw it to the ground. “I don’t think you can really afford to threaten me at the moment. I guess we have another stalemate.”
Angel paused, unsure of what to do next. The others stared at one another in confusion. What had just gone on here? Angel had had Vail on the ropes, and now, because of some strange glowy box, the vampire seemed on the verge of capitulation.
“Angel, what is he going on about?” Wes called out uncertainly. “Why are you even entertaining this idea of backing down? What’s this Orlon Window to us? Nothing surely. Don’t give in to his threats.
“You don’t understand Wes,” Angel murmured disconsolately. His head was down and his shoulders drooped, a picture of defeat. “I have to do what’s right here.”
“Well luckily I don’t have that problem,” Buffy piped up. She stood pressed up against Vail’s back, the cube in her left hand and the razor sharp, curved blade of Sagaria pressed up against the warlock’s neck. His red skin was paper-thin and already a narrow stream of blood dripped sluggishly from the point of contact.
“Don’t move an inch,” the Slayer hissed in the old demon’s ear. “This steel would slide through your neck before you can even blink. Drop your hands down by your side and stand still.” Buffy had finally slipped into ‘take charge mode’ and she was revelling in it. “Willow, a dampening spell if you would.” The witch nodded and cast one at Vail immediately. “Angel, bring that urn a little closer. Faith, could you come back here and take over the role of persuader.” She grinned at her sister slayer as Faith came forward and seized Sagaria’s handle up near the blade, maintaining a steady, even pressure on Vail’s neck.
“Right now, Judge Judy’s in session” Buffy declared as she stepped into the sorcerer’s line of sight, the Orlon Window grasped between the fingers of her right hand. “I don’t know what this cube thingy is all about, and I pretty much gather that nobody else does either except for Angel. So, I wanna suggest that you and Angel sort that drama out later. Today is about me and my vampire.”
She started strolling back and forth in front of Vail’s wheezing, trembling form. “I’m already super pissed ‘cos you made me miss out on all this lovely demon killing,” she swept her arm around the room, “and when I miss out on the violence, I get a little antsy. On top of that I’m hormonal and pretty wound-up about whether I’m gonna get my man back or not.”
Vail’s eyes widened at this but otherwise he didn’t move.
“Yes, that’s right, Spike’s my man. So now you know.” Buffy ignored Angel who was grimacing painfully at her last statement. “I might be the Slayer, but besides that, I’m just a girl in love whose missing her man desperately. And you Mr Vail are the one who’s keeping him from me.”
Giles winced as Buffy’s beseeching tone fell just a shade short of whining.
“So, this is the way it’s going to go.” The slayer sent Willow a look that had the witch quickly conjuring up a quill and roll of parchment with which to record the deal. “I’m going to give Angel this Orlando’s Window thingy and he’s going to look after it… ah-ah,” Buffy interjected as Vail was about to protest, “just for the next couple of weeks until you and he get together and sort your memory problems out, or whatever. Capiche?” She glared at both parties, not satisfied until they each indicated their assent.
“Okay. In return, Angel will drag the dead henchman out of the way, straighten up the wonky cabinet and gently place the urn back in the cupboard. Okay?” This time Vail and Angel consented more rapidly.
“Then, you are going to conjure up the amulet and hand it directly to me. No spells, no funny business.” At this the warlock scowled deeply and was about to object when Buffy lifted up her hand to stay him. “And I will kindly ask Faith to remove my beautiful scythe from your scrawny neck. Our business will be concluded and we will be on our way, leaving you to recuperate and…” she waved her hand at the bodies scattered around the room, “tidy up in peace.”
Vail was obviously still not happy with this deal, which saw him losing, at least temporarily, possession of two very valuable items. However he could see that he didn’t have much choice over the matter. Miss Summers had him over a barrel.
“Now, not that I don’t trust either of you, but I took the opportunity to have Willow make up three copies of the deal. She’s gonna read the terms of the exchange out once again and all you have to do is voice your agreement and you will be signed up and magically bound to the contract. That means Angel, you can’t knock the urn over on the way out or sneak back in at any other time to do so, and you must meet with Vail to sort out the issues between you and return the cube. Vail you can’t hand me the wrong amulet, or make it inaccessible or obliterate us as we walk out the door. And I promise to return the amulet as soon as I’ve finished with it.” Buffy nodded and reluctantly the other two nodded as well.
As Willow read out the contract, Xander, Oz and Faith, in the spirit of détente, dragged all the demon bodies from around the room and left them in a neat pile near the back wall. Wes and Kennedy had taken the most punishment during their fights and were content to just stand, nursing their injuries, while the other three worked.
Finally the terms had been read out and agreed to by Buffy, Angel and Vail, and each signatory had received their own copy.
Xander had already straightened the cabinet out when he removed the Kith’harn’s body. All that remained was for Vail to conjure up the amulet and the exchange could begin to take place. Buffy had been very calm and decisive while she ordered everyone around, but now, at the moment of truth, she suddenly felt her heart pounding and the back of her neck was damp with moisture.
All of the occupants of the room turned to focus on Vail as he once again held out his right hand, palm upwards. Gasping quite alarmingly, his feeble body shaking with the effort of standing for so long, he wriggled the fingers of his left hand and slowly the amulet flickered into view. Suddenly, there in Vail’s wrinkled palm it lay, its gold surface gleaming softly in the dull light of the room. Buffy gasped and reached out for it, tears filling her eyes as her fingers wrapped around its solid presence.
She snatched it up desperately, staring at it as it lay in her hand, before clutching it to her chest and lifting her head to nod at Faith. The brunette slayer quickly removed the blade from Vail’s neck, then graciously helped the frail old demon back to his chair, where he slumped exhausted and shaken.
The amulet still pressed to her chest, Buffy wandered dazedly over to where Angel stood next to the cabinet. She stopped in front of him and he looked down at her intently before sighing and shaking his head. Even though he’d been told of it last night, he still couldn’t believe it, Buffy and Spike! Resignedly, he turned away, carefully placing the urn on the shelf and gently closing the cupboard doors. He turned back to Buffy, who handed him the Orlon Window.
He frowned as he considered the light filled cube, terrified of the destructive power this pretty little Pandora’s Box could unleash on his life. He’d already noticed the looks of suspicion and confusion coming from Giles and the rest of Buffy’s crew and he could almost feel Wes’ eyes boring into him from across the room. What would they think if his actions came to light? This whole situation could end up requiring major damage control, but all he could think about, all he could care about, right now was how this would impact on Connor. Whatever happened down the road, protecting his son was his prime concern.
Buffy watched a myriad of emotions flit across the normally stoic vampire’s face. Some deal was definitely going down with Angel at the moment, but he was a big boy and she had too much on her own plate not to trust that he could deal with his own shit. She felt the now warm metal of the amulet pressing into her left breast and turned back to address the old warlock.
“Look Mr Vail, I’m sure this wasn’t exactly how you saw things going down,” Buffy offered diplomatically, “but when you make your own bed … and on the bright side, at least no one got killed.” She paused, remembering the big pile at the back of the room and the other three bodies tucked inside the front door. “Or at least no one that mattered?” she winced awkwardly.
“Yes well thank you Miss Summers. I’ll be sure to pass on your sympathies to their loved ones.” Vail replied breathlessly, his body still trembling from his recent ordeal. Nervously he stroked the wound at his neck before adjusting the flow of his meds.
Buffy grimaced and bit her lip. “Um, sorry?” she offered. “Look we’ll get out of your hair now, but before we go, do you think you could do me one last favour?”
Vail raised his eyebrows at that one, obviously astounded that the Slayer had the temerity to describe their interactions in such innocuous terms and incredulous at the thought that she would seek to squeeze even one more drop of blood out of him. Then he sighed and shook his head as a resigned chuckle burst from his thin lips. He had to admire the girl really, she had hutzpah; he’d give her that all right.
“Of course Miss Summers.” Vail inclined his head. “How may I serve you?” he added facetiously.
“Oh well,” she muttered, slowly drawing the amulet away from her chest and holding it aloft. “Its just that I was wondering, how do I get this thing to work?”