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Chapter Twenty-Two – The Death of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce

Wes jerked awake. It was dark in his room but that was common. The Angel Investigations Team kept odd hours so he had invested in black out curtains three days in. He felt around for his glasses and reached for his cell phone which was buzzing. He wondered why Angel would be calling this early in the day. He grabbed it, and stopped short.

It wasn’t buzzing.

Wesley stared at it.

The buzzing started again. It was the other one. With more urgency now, Wes reached into the fake book where he stashed the cellphone Raj had given him before he left London. It was a text from Alex.

Dr.=BAD but R has a plan.

Wes frowned. He had known that that was going to be a struggle. He had thought that bringing them to a doctor too soon would be bad, but nevertheless, Buffy was pregnant and doctors had access to things like ultrasounds and blood tests. It didn't make sense to not take her, but now of course he felt like an ass and a half for pushing her to make the appointment.

Also priority 1: code names. B,S,A,R,W=Maybe they will think we are the Men in Black.

Wes grinned despite his frustration. He could hear Alex's matter of fact tone and could almost see her arch a knowing eyebrow. It was making him wonder how he could have ever missed her parentage, he could hear Buffy three years ago in that message.

Very suddenly his clock radio pinged on letting Wesley know it was 10 am and beautiful in Los Angeles. Sunny and 72 degrees. Like always.

Despite knowing it was coming, Wes flinched at the sudden noise He knew that anything coming from that phone would be untraceable and encrypted. But any news coming from No.9 made him feel jumpy and guilty and a little doubtful that it had ever happened at all.

Spike, Buffy, Alex, and Raj were basically dead in the water, just trying to keep from being detected until Buffy delivered her baby. The baby that would grow to be Alex and was fathered by Spike, a soul-less vampire. Nothing too hard to comprehend, surely. And here he was 10, 000 miles away and the weather was sunny and perfect. Things for them were just going to get more and more dangerous. And he was thinking of perhaps taking a walk in the sunshine. He was a knob, no doubt about it.

Though hiding in plain sight was a genius move. And he was slowly coming to realize genius moves were common place around Spike and Buffy. He hadexpected as much from her. She had always been an immensely capable Slayer but Spike was the wild card. He supposed the vampire had to do something to earn his reputation and cometo think of it, Spike hadwiggled his way out of many a difficult situation. Wes would never have guessed Spike’s background, it was too hard to comprehend even after several duets heavily featuring Oxford drinking songs in Latin.

Wes had to give Spike credit for the foresight on this one. It made sense to keep his house as a safe house. With few properly written records he could hide his identity forever if he had to. Curious that he never sold it or let it just rot. He wondered if it was laziness or desgin that saved No. 9, with Spike he was never sure.

The vampire was a bit of an enigma, at times he was terrible at sticking to any plan--this was from stories he had heard of the bleached blond vamp from Angel and to a certain extent, Giles. He constantly undermined himself or was too impatient to wait, and almost always to his detriment. And yet somtimes, Spike was capable of a rigid discipline Wes could only dream of. He had heard stories of Dru and her inane mind-games. Spike had cared for her for a hundred years. He had taken down slayers--Buffy inclided. And through all of that, in a century, he had never let slip who he was and where he came from. Angel didn't even know his last name.

He started typing out a quick reply to Alex and reminded himself that he had to make a few calls to some contacts today. He had been back for nearly a week now and he hadn't tended to his mission: find a doctor to get rid of Spike’s chip.

He sighed, best get the kettle on.

He shuffled over to the kitchen to start the tea, Cordy and Angel would be reporting on their findings at the gym soon—evidence, maybe, to lead them to whoever was eating these young men from the inside out. He sighed and poured boiling water into a cup. It was hard to make himself care about Angel Investigations business— his job for all intents and purposes. Not when there was so much at stake halfway around the world. He grabbed the wheetabix and settled into his breakfast.

The phone buzzed again. Wesley checked his phone, it was Alex.

My Codename is Starbuck.

He stared at it puzzled for a second.

Sry. Spoilers.

Stop wasting your father’s money on nonsense. Glad to hear every1 is safe. Hellmouth updates to follow. Wes typed back.

When she didn't reply he went back to this breakfast.

He hoped Angel and Cordy’s fact finding mission was fruitful. He could use a case that was good and solvable to distract him from his lack of any traction on the chip situation. The fact that four people he was becoming very fond of were in essence sitting ducks until he could figure something out was not a milestone he wanted hanging around his neck for very long.

Pushing that thought away, Wes washed up and headed into the Hyperion, praying for something he could just kill with no regard for anything else. Spike was right on that count, sometimes someone just needs a spot of violence.


*****


She walked confidently thought the lobby of the Beverley Hills Hotel. She knew all eyes were on here, wondering who she was. She smirked and added just a little swivel to her step. She knew that all eyes were on her, wondering who she was—because surely a girl like her would be somebody. She loved knowing that all of them wanted her. They were intrigued by her, they wanted to get their hands on her.

All the attention went through her like electricity.

He spotted her before she got to him, but then he wasn’t wearing red leather pants. He rose to shake her hand, how many times did she have to tell him she didn’t shake hands.

She purred a drink order a the bartender who sputtered back at her. He was wearing white tie. God, she couldn't hold back the eyeroll.

Of course, Elliot wanted to meet her here, in a place where waiters were wearing fucking coattails in Los Fucking Angeles. This place was ridiculously opulent, it was all kid gloves and gray-haired women with jewelry so big it all looked fake.

And people accused her of being show-y.

Elliot looked at her with a mix of distaste and lust, he was outlining what he wanted her to produce. An Algurian Conjuring Sphere. He needed one and the last one that anyone knew of was taken by some GI in the Korean War.

He was offering her regular take for a search and snatch from some senior citizen? That went down easy.

Elliot was still yapping on about keeping in quiet and professional. This man really liked to hear himself talk. She stopping fiddling with the fancy swizzle stick that came with her drink.

“Elliot, I think maybe as the professional here, that I know what I’m doing,” she said cutting him off and emphasizing the word professional so she knew a few other tables could hear her. The color of his face was truly remarkable. “Listen, I usually change extra for complications—but this on isn’t going to be one of those right?”

“No.” he said tersely. “It isn’t. Just get me the sphere. That's all.”

She smiled sweetly.

“Great, I’ll just go ahead and take your word for it.” Her sweet smile evaporated. "But wait--that wouldn’t be very professional of me would it?”

He glared at her.

“I take your advice very seriously, Ellie.” She said. “Which is why I’m taking this—” she held up his watch which she had swiped when he tried to shake her hand. He needed to learn that she didn’t shake hands. “What is it called? Collateral.”

“That is a $ 12,000 watch.” He informed her in what he surely thought was an threatening voice. He reached for it and she buzzed him in warning.

“You’re telling me it’s an easy job, but if there’s something about it you aren’t telling me.” She arched an eyebrow. “Elliot, I’ll get cranky and This" she said jangling the watch. " becomes $12,000 of surrealism.”

She stood and started to walk away. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “thanks for the drink.”

With that, she strode out leaving the businessman glaring at her ass with equal parts hate and wanting.

She smirked as she went.


*****


“I heard you were looking for a slayer! And so I have come here to slay you!” there was a short pause. “Because I’m a slayer. I mean THE! I'M THE SLAYER!”

Anya’s quippy one-liners needed work, clearly.

The demon bikers had made a bonfire in the parking lot, they had created a base out of ruined cars and over-turned semis. The scoobies approached cautiously. The plan was almost all flash and grab with Willow providing most of the flash.

Tara tried to block it all out and concentrate on Willow’s hands on her and the feeling of power flowing though the earth and into her girlfriend. But Tara was so worried about her it was hard to concentrate on the spells. The huge complicated spells that Willow was able weave together. Tara was impressed. She had no idea how Willow was channeling that kind of power.

Xander had shouldered the rocket launcher and fired into the bikers.

“Here is hellfire!” Anya bellowed. “that’s what you get for coming to my town, buddies! I mean evil, no-good demons!”

Anya tried to look menacing while yanking up the neckline of the frilly shirt she was wearing. The air around her shimmered and spun and it was suddenly Buffy standing up before them looking every inch like the slayer she was.

The explosion and sudden frenzy as the demons were thrown about. Anya was pulled down from the showy spot, her job done for now.

Tara re-focused on her chanting.

Giles and Xander circled back to the sacred circle.

“How are things coming here?” Giles asked.

Tara was able to lapse her concentration for a moment to catch his eye and nod. Willow was too concentrated on their part of the plan. Will was holding up the glamour and then magickally grabbing demons and slamming them down on the pavement to simulated a slayer-level ass whooping. It was not an easy thing to keep two spells going at once. Giles had offered to help but he could fight better than they could and they needed someone to open a can of actual whup-ass. Tara had tried but her abilities just didn't extend to what WIllow was channeling. So she lent her energy and as much of her life-force as she could, and Will had somehow managed to make it happen.

Still, Tara was worried as hell about her girlfriend.

Willow’s skin was coated in a cool sheen of sweat. Her hair was matted and the hands clutching hers were clammy. They weren’t so much holding on to her as they were clutching at her desperately as if Tara was the only thing keeping her grounded. Which she was pretty sure was the truth at this point.

Anya was running over. “I think we did it! They have scattered in a way that makes me think that they may be turning tail?” She looked to Xander for affirmation.

They all ignored that it was Buffy’s voice that came out of her mouth.

Xander busied himself with checking to see where the demons were going to. He looked over his shoulder and brightened instantly.

“She’s right!” he said sounding just a little bit incredulous. “I think maybe we did it! You did it, Will!”

Something happened, Tara wasn’t sure what, the glamour fizzled around them and Willow very suddenly through her head back.

“Will!”

Willow had gone rigid, her eyes were shut tightly. Her hands slipped from Tara’s and before the blonde witch could reclaim them Giles had put his hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Willow?”

The red-head slumped.

Tara didn’t waste her breath calling out. She reached out to pull her girlfriend into her arms.

“Check for a pulse!”

Tara was already holding onto Will’s wrist. There was a pulse albeit a slow one. Tara could breathe again.

“Elevate her head!” Giles suggested.

Tara nodded. She was trying very much not to panic, but they had been expecting this. Tara just help her trying to ignore how clammy she was. After a few second that felt like hours, Willow stirred.

“Did it? Did it work?” she mumbled.

Tara had never been so relieved in her life. The sound of motorcycles was everywhere, going in all different directions, but at least most of them seemed to be heading away from the scoobies.

“I’m not sure how we managed to pull that off.” Xander said sounding like a weight had been lifted.

“We did it!” Willow said happily. "I did it! go me!" She looked absolutely blissful and then she passed out in Tara’s arms.


*****


It was a shapeshifter.

Wesley breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Angelus, it wasn’t a new player or some crony of Wolfram and Hart. It was, in fact, just as the doctor ordered: just an old man trying to re-live his glory days. With the use of something mystical he didn't understand. While it didn't give him much to kill, he had been able to beat on an evil version of Angel. But Wesley had, at this point, several apocalypses and LA rush hour traffic under his belt so he knew better than to jinx it by commenting on it in any way.

Angel was doing the thing where he told the bad-guy what he had done wrong and how he could have been better. There was just something tiresome about it. The old man lolling about clearly trying to find a way around the vampire and reclaim his sphere.

Wes was listening to the lecture when he heard Fred gasp and saw Cordelia tense. Wesley groaned inwardly. He managed to jinx it anyway . He quietly reached for his crossbow. Everyone was looking at a point over shit shoulder. He turned and took aim with the crossbow as he did so.

“Don’t move.” He said.

The person he said it to was quite possibly the last person he had been expecting. It was a gorgeous 25-year-old women in leather pants and—oddly enough—only one glove. Wes has time to note that that was strange before all the shit hit the fan, or in this case, the lamp. The room went dark. Presumably she was going for whatever it was she was after. Angel pushed passed him.

“She’s after the sphere!”

Someone had managed to find a working lamp and the room was flooded with light. The woman had lunged for the altar but Angel had grabbed her before she could reach it. She shoved him back with her un-gloved hand. The room was suddenly flooded with the crackling static electricity and the smell of ozone. Angel stumbled back but didn’t let go of her. The look on her face was somewhere between surprise and outrage. She shoved against demanding:

“Why won’t you die?”

But before anyone could intervene, the woman found a bit of exposed skin and both she and Angel stilled, looking at each other in shock. They seemed to have forgotten that anyone else was in the room.

Wes was about to cut in when he caught Marcus throw himself at the sphere out of the corner of his eye. He reached out to grab the man back, just as the woman’s attention turned from Angel to the two of them.

There was strange buzzing sound in his ear all of a sudden.

He heard Gunn yell. He turned to his friend but before he could say anything, I was like the world around him had turned into molasses. There was a flash and Wes felt like an elephant had stepped onto his chest.

Everything went black.


*****


It was a bad plan. They had known that when they had come to it that it would be slapdash and all-over the place but it drove away demon bikers and then it kept Sunnydale quiet for weeks.

Willow was washing her face. Last night’s patrol had gone long after they crashed right into a something or other beast-feeding frenzy. Willow had to let the glamour drop to try and focus on the demons. They had managed to get through mostly unscathed, a minor cut above an eye and Anya possibly broke her wrist. Which was just great because Anya was the easiest to glamour into Buffy and now the former-demon was saying all kinds of no to doing that again.

She splashed some cold water into her eyes and tried to blink away the sleepiness.

Now she was going to have to glamour Tara which would be much harder-the two blondes had completely different body types.

Had she always been this pale? The red-head leaned towards the mirror examining her features. She was paler than usual—actually the paler complexion looked kinda nice, pretty even. It made her eyes look huge and doll-like. Maybe she should skip the lipstick today, it was a little with the vampy. And no one liked vamp-Willow. She tilted her head. Hello, cheekbones!

On second thought, definitely lipstick, Buffy was always after her to try new looks and maybe for once she should actually try something new.

Smiling to herself, Willow flounced out of the bathroom over to the dorm she shared with her girlfriend.

Tara looked up from her psych reading.

“Oh wow! Are we doing somewhere special I didn’t know about?” she asked.

“I know right? I suddenly have all these angles and I thought maybe I should carpe some diem.”

“Dead Poets Society?” Tara asked curiously.

“Buffy Summers.”

Tara softened and then nodded.

“Well, it looks nice. A little Elvira of evening, but nice.” She said going back to her reading. "I like a vixen."

“You never met Vamp Willow I think you would liked her.”

She saw her girlfriend’s eyebrow quirk.

“The evil, leather wearing version of you? I would have more than liked her.” She said. “Although, it looks like a trip to the beach is in order.”

Willow nodded.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She said. “I’m going to meet Xander at the Espresso Pump.”

“See you later,” Tara called without looking up from her text book.

“Love you!”

Willow closed the door and headed off out the door.

Shit, forgot to brush her teeth. Willow frowned and then did a quick cleansing spell in her head and felt a quick wave of magic run through her. Huh, genius, this way she wouldn’t have to worry about toothpaste taste in her latte. Awesome.


*****


Tara looked up as the door clicked shut. She couldn’t help but stare after her girlfriend. She looked pale and thin and a little bit gaunt and she thought she looked good. Could she really be that blind? Or was Tara just making something out of nothing? Being oversensitive to what was going on because she was worried about all the strain she was under.

Deciding that she had to stop diagnosing all her friends, Tara turned back to her reading and tried.


*****


It wasn’t like floating in in warm milk, which was, for some reason, what Wesley has always thought being dead would be like. Like being suspended in warm milk, softer than water and with that heavenly feeling of safety and well-being.

Nothing like that. One minute the word fizzes to blackness around him and the next a million volts jolt through his body, every nerve ending suddenly pulled taut. He felt as if he ran full tilt into a concrete wall and then bounced. Everything around him was exploding into riotous color.

His brain was every where and nowhere at once, he was six again, sickly and crouching in fear of his father and then sixteen gangly and awkward with all too much limb for his frame. And then he was back to himself, rigid and aching on the shabby linoleum.

Figures where coming to shape around him. Everything hurt except his head which was floating.

“Wesley?”

Her voice was what was able to cut into a disorientation so palpable it felt like gelatin around him.

Her eyes were brown and warm, like honey and tea. Had they always been so pretty wide and sweet. She was always so loopy and fragmented and float-y and now she was at the center of the universe. She was his center, the just sort of clicked into place in front of him, the only thing that made sense.

“Fred?”

“Wes!” She looked so delighted to hear his voice. He liked delighting her. He wished she would smile like that more. Maybe she did smile like that a lot and he simply didn’t know that about her. Maybe she smiled like that to other people.

“Guys, He’s up!”

Did they even fully know how smart she was? It was so strange to think she had missed five years.

He should answer her. She was looking for him to answer her. She was so happy he was back, and she was looking at him as if he was someone and it had been so long since he had been looked at like that. So delighted that he was there. Him, the braniac side-kick.

“Winifred?”

“Hi, Wes,” She said. “I’m gonna check your pulse, alright?”

Numbly, Wes nodded. He felt her fingers so acutely, it was like they were sharpened into points.

“Sounds good, Do you know who’s president?”

“Er, president?”

“Oh RIght, they don't have presidents in Britain. Do you know who's Prime Minister? Do I know who's Prime Minister?"

Wes forced himself to focus. Stop the world from spinning around him for even one moment.

“Was anyone able to catch that girl?” he managed to get out, his voice was croaky. “The one that was afflicted with some form of electrokinesis, Do you think she can deliberately control it?”

“Well, sounds like the brainparts and priority centers are intact.” Cordelia’s voice said from somewhere to Fred’s left.

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t need to get him to the hospital. Stat.” Fred said sounding slightly panicked.

The others swam into focus around him. As did Marcus’s depressing little room; Gunn was holding onto the old man by the arm. And Angel was holding onto the girl who looked equal parts confused and astonished.

“Not so fast!” Angel said as the girl tried another maneuver to escape his grasp. He was using one of Marcus’s tatty blankets to insulate her.

“Eliot is so screwed.” He heard her mutter. She struggled to find purchase against him and slammed her foot back. Angel merely shifted to accommodate her. He replied but everything had gone dark around the edges.

He felt himself slip.

“Angel, we have to go to the hospital.”

Her voice wrenched him back from wherever it was he was going. He snapped back to himself to catch that the electrokinetic girl clearly saw her chance, she slipped out of Angel’s grasp and bolted.

With the last of his strength Wes grabbed her ankle and held her back.

“I think you have something of ours.” He bit out.

Across the room Angel vamped out, showing her what she was dealing with. She hesitated and Cordelia plucked the stone out of the electropath’s hands and shoved her out the window. Wesley’s world went black.






Author's Note: More soon! I have the next chapter already half finished! So send me reviews! they feed the muse. ;)





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