Rating: Still PG. I promise it’ll get higher later.
Disclaimer: Joss owns most. Kendra owns Siobhan, I own Devyn. Not sure who owns Duncan these days.. think it’s Greg Widen, but since his appearance is filed under the “don’t blink or you’ll miss it” category, I’m not terribly concerned.
Distribution: My site- The Dragon’s Cave ( http://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firedrake ). Kendra’s sites, of course. Anyone who has my stuff and/or the Forever Series. Everyone else, please ask.
Author’s Notes: This is a continuation of the Forever Series, originally penned by Kendra A. Any and all mistakes are mine, since this isn’t beta’d. :::: indicates thoughts, * indicates emphasis. If you see a sentence in small letters preceded by …, that’s a direct quote from Kendra’s sections.
Dedication: To Kendra, of course, who was not only kind enough to let me take a stab at this, but who is an exceptional author (HEY, BITCA.. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?????). To all those who sent feedback, good and constructive, after “I Remember Now” which was my first contribution to this series.
Feedback: Please.
*****************
Devyn stayed that night, and the next, and the one after that. She was always gone when the rest of the AI team awoke, but returned at dusk with an overflowing bag of snack food for them and a plastic container of cut fruit for herself. She and Willow became fast friends, debating good-naturedly about the magic they both practiced. Angel had taken her aside one evening and talked to her about the night they’d met; whatever answers she had given he deemed satisfactory enough to close her case, and it wasn’t mentioned again.
Not that she didn’t have her oddities. She politely refused to discuss anything about her family, her childhood, or where she was from. Angel had noticed that her accent shifted from time to time; when she was tired or excited there was a hint of a European lilt that poked at the vampire’s memories, but she covered it with her normal non-specific dialect before he could place where he remembered it from. For someone extremely knowledgeable about magic and the supernatural, there were things about the everyday world that she knew surprisingly little about- the microwave oven and VCR had been stared at quizzically until Cordelia had explained their function. Of course Willow insisted that she was weird simply because of her steadfast denial of any kind of snack food, even Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.
When Angel came across Devyn exiting the abandoned warehouse she had been calling home he insisted she move into the hotel with them, an offer she reluctantly accepted after Willow put in her weight. She chose a room some distance away from Angel’s suite and Willow’s own room and, after finding a cache of construction supplies in the basement, spent her days remodeling it top to bottom herself; repairing holes in the walls, painting, buffing the floor, and bringing the plumbing in the adjoining bathroom on-line. Within a week it was unrecognizable as the dusty shell it had been. When Angel saw the work she’d done he tried to convince her to allow him to purchase furniture for her as repayment, which led to a tremendous battle of wills. Devyn refused to take advantage of what she saw as Angel’s over-the-top generosity, and Angel refused to allow her to sleep on the floor. It was finally decided that Angel would buy Devyn an inexpensive futon for her use and would decorate the rest of the room for future guests. True to her word- and much to Angel’s frustration- Devyn didn’t touch the other furniture.
Time passed as the four friends settled into a comfortable routine.
“I am getting so tired of this view.” Cordelia lay on her back on the mat, scowling. “And I still say we need to paint the ceiling.”
Willow reached down to help the brunette to her feet. “We can paint when you get off your wallet and hire a decorator.”
“When *I* get off *my* wallet? Hello, like I even get paid on a regular basis.”
“What’s the need for a decorator? It’s obvious you’d paint the ceiling beige.” Devyn was in the corner of the room, moving through what appeared to be Tai Chi forms on amphetamines.
Cordelia looked over at the girl. “I love you. Have I mentioned that I love you?”
Devyn grinned. “Not today.”
Willow pulled her hair into a tighter ponytail, using the brief break to stretch her aching muscles. “Come on, Cordy. Angel said we had to put in at least an hour down here if we wanted to go on patrol.”
“Please, Willow.” The cheerleader sat down on one of the weight benches, twisting open a bottle of water. “Like I want to go on patrol. And I’ll never get the hang of this. The only thing that gets better is my ability to bounce when you throw me.”
“Come on, Cordy. That’s not true. You’ve been doing really well this week.”
The look on the cheerleader’s face spoke volumes of her disbelief at Willow’s comment. Sighing, Willow sat down on an adjoining bench, opening her own bottle of water and watching Devyn as she rolled to pick up a nearby staff, then continued through her forms.
“So, Dev, you been practicing long?” Cordelia quipped.
A laugh came clearly from the rapidly spinning, kicking flurry of movement. “A little while. At least as long as I can remember.” She stopped suddenly, the end of her staff barely touching the exposed flesh over Willow’s heart. She grinned as Willow “eep”ed and slapped the staff away. “You can learn too. It’s not that hard. I bet Angel would be happy to teach you.”
“Yea-huh. Sure.” Bent over her shoelaces, Cordelia’s voice was muffled but the exasperation was evident. “Then I can have Angel throwing me around like a rag doll instead of just Willow.”
“I think you’d be surprised how quickly you’ll pick it up. You already have more than the basics; you just need to learn to put it together. Let me share a little trick.. anything that can be learned can be learned easier when set to music.”
Cordelia still looked dubious; Devyn motioned to the CD player in the corner of the room. “Pick out a CD; it doesn’t matter which one. I’ll show you what I mean.”
Devyn picked up a sword and moved to the center of the room while Willow and Cordy bickered over which CD to put in; Willow was most insistent that the brunette stay far, far away from the Titanic soundtrack. Finally they agreed on a selection from a mixed recording; as the opening chords of AC/DC’s “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” floated across the room, Devyn paused in her stretching and eyed the two giggling girls.
“What are you two trying to tell me? Ech. Never mind. Just listen to the music, and watch.”
Closing her eyes, Devyn picked up on the beat of the music and began to move, slowly at first, to its rhythm. As the music built she gained confidence; using the entire length of the floor she fluidly glided through forms, her kicks and punches interspersed with deadly twirls and slashes of the sword. Timed perfectly, on the final beat of the song she ran the practice mannequin through with the blade and turned to face her two wildly applauding friends.
“It’s all about feeling the music, Cordy. Once you let the music in, nothing can stop you.”
“There is no way I could do that. You must have had an unbelievable teacher.”
In an unexpected moment of openness, Devyn proudly said “My sister. She was ten times the practitioner I am, in just about everything. I was always better than her in languages, though.” She picked up a rag to clean the sword and moved toward the storage rack, her voice carrying a note of nostalgia and more than a hint of her unusual accent. “She always wanted me to be able to defend myself if anything ever happened.”
Willow turned this new information around in her mind, and gently tried to take advantage of Devyn’s unexpected candor. “She sounds like a wonderful sister.”
“The gods never made a better one than her.”
“I always wondered what it would have been like to have a sister. I barely knew what it was like to have parents.”
“I loved her more than anything. She was my world. I.. I know a lot of people don’t get along with their sisters, but I couldn’t have asked for a better one.”
“Was it just the two of you?”
And there it was- Willow could see she’d gone too far. When Devyn turned from the storage rack she had visibly turned in on herself.
“No, it wasn’t. I, uh, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get a shower, then go take care of a few things. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she was up the stairs before Cordy or Willow could stop her.
Cordelia looked at Willow, who was still looking at the door Devyn had disappeared through. “Think it was something you said?”
* * * * * * * *
Devyn and Cordelia sat in the office area of the hotel, Cordelia buffing her perfectly manicured nails as Devyn worked on the demon database Willow had started. Once Willow had given her basic instructions on the computer, Devyn had become a devotee; she was much slower than the other redhead or even Cordelia, but she was eager to learn.
Cordelia looked over at the redhead as she carefully inspected a nail. “Willow will be ready in a few minutes. Are you sure you don’t want to go out with us?”
“I appreciate the invitation, Cordelia, but I have a lot of work to do here. I’m sure if you asked Angel he’d..”
“You’re missing the point of a girls’ night out, Devyn.”
Devyn raised an eyebrow. “And the point is what, exactly?”
“To get all dressed up, go out, have a good time, do a little dancing, a little drinking, a little gossiping, without being overloaded by testosterone.” She began digging through her purse, pulling out bottle after bottle of polish.
The other eyebrow joined its twin. “But Cordy, isn’t the point of all that, in the end, to pick up men?”
The cheerleader shot the redhead a look that radiated attitude. “If in the course of all that we happen to pick up a few telephone numbers- and a free drink or two- then it’s all good.” She shook out the remaining contents of her purse, growling in frustration. “I can’t believe I forgot the polish! I wrote a note to myself and everything.”
“Where did you leave it?”
“It’s at the apartment. I don’t have enough time to go get it, either.”
Devyn was still concentrating on the computer screen. “What color is it?”
“Oh, it’s the most fabulous coral color- looks amazing with my tan.”
“Coral nail polish.”
“Yes, coral. Co-ral.” Cordelia was about to launch into an exacting description of the color when she looked over at Devyn. The redhead had her hand extended, palm up, with a bottle of nail polish sitting in the middle. She was continuing to type, one-handed. “Uhhh.. Dev? Is that my nail polish?”
“Is it coral?”
Cordelia took the bottle from the girl’s hand. It was indeed her bottle of nail polish. “How on earth did you do that?”
“Just call me a living, breathing Saint Anthony.”
The cheerleader looked at her, confused. “Who?”
This time Devyn looked at the girl, staring over the tops of the glasses she had perched on the end of her nose. “It’s a Catholic thing.”
“Oh. Well, thanks! Now, you’re stalling. I bet Willow has something that you can borrow..”
“Cordelia, you know I’m nowhere near Willow’s size. I’d have better luck borrowing clothes from Angel.” Suddenly realizing what the cheerleader was implying, Devyn looked down at herself. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
“Nothing, if you’re going for elven chic. I mean, LoTR was popular and all, but geez Dev, get out of the tunics and poet shirts. And do you *own* any other shoes? You’re almost as bad as Willow was in high school.” Cordelia was warming to the topic, already planning a shopping trip with Angel’s credit cards. “That’s it.. we can stop off at the mall, get you a fabulous new outfit, then head to Caritas for an evening of alcohol and demon karaoke. It’ll be a blast!”
“I’m not really one for singing in public..”
“Come on, Dev. They make the best Long Island Ice Teas there.. you’ll love it.”
Devyn was about to acquiesce to the cheerleader, when her head suddenly snapped around, her eyes quickly searching the windows at the front of the lobby. “Cordy.. someone’s coming..”
The door to the hotel slammed open, revealing an unusually agitated Spike. “Who the bloody hell does a bloke have to kill around here to get to talk to the witch? I’m sick of giving the damn white hats the runaround on where she is. I’ve half a mind to..”
Whatever he had half a mind to do was lost in the loud “oof” he made as he was thrown to the floor and a stake was pressed against his chest, hard enough to tear the fabric of his shirt. Startled gray eyes peered down into his blue ones.
“William the Bloody..”
“Do we know one another? ‘Cause you’re getting awful intimate there with that stake. How about you let me up, I’ll talk to Red and be on my way?”
Cordelia stepped back, putting her desk between herself and the horizontal vampire, the distance- and the fact that Devyn was millimeters away from staking said vamp- helping her maintain her Queen C attitude. “If we let you anywhere near Willow, it’s going to be in a baggie. The best you’re getting from us is a running head start. I suggest you take it.”
The stake drew the smallest drop of blood as it dipped further into his flesh, and Spike winced. He quickly weighed his options, and decided to address the immediate threat. Meeting the hard gray eyes of the unknown woman who sat astride him, Spike put on what he hoped was his best “harmless bloke” face.
“Look, pet, let’s not be hasty here. I’m on the witch’s side.. she told me to get in touch with her if her friends needed her. If I hadn’t been getting the cold shoulder from the cheerleader here, I’d have stayed far away from this place. But they’re getting antsy, say they need the girl. Why don’t you ask her yourself? Bet she’d be awful put out if you staked one of her chums.”
Devyn’s jaw twitched, but the sigh that followed told him all he needed to know. “Fine. But if I find out you’re lying..”
“Which you won’t..”
“If I find out you’re lying, it’s baggie time.” Without taking her eyes off the vampire- or, much to Spike’s annoyance, the stake out of his chest- Devyn called out for Willow, who appeared at the top of the stairs almost immediately.
“Devyn? Is everything all right? I heard yelling.. woah! Devyn, stop! Don’t stake Spike!” Willow hurried down the staircase, tugging Devyn away from the now smirking blonde. Spike stood, brushing himself off, as Willow firmly told the girl to put the stake away.
“Told ya, luv. I’ll be accepting your apology now.” His cockiness was short-lived, however, as Willow turned on him.
“What are you doing here, Spike? I told you to call if there was a problem, not just show up unannounced. Did you tell the others where I am?”
“Now, now, calm down. I didn’t tell anyone where you are, just that I’d collect you and bring you home. And I’ve been trying to call, but that pit bull Peaches calls a secretary won’t let me through.” Cordelia’s indignant “Hey!” was lost in the continued rant of the blond vampire. “So you go ahead and pack, we’ll be on our way, and I can keep from getting staked by two very hormonal women.” He eyed Devyn warily, and maneuvered so that Willow was in between them. “For the life of me, Red, I’ll never be able to understand your taste in friends. Always the dust first, ask questions later type. It’s not good for a fellow’s health, you know.”
“That’s enough, Spike.” Willow sighed, turning to Devyn and Cordelia. “Could you give me a moment alone with him, please?”
“Willow.. that’s William the Bloody. He’s a remorseless killer, and you expect me to leave you alone with him? No way.”
“I’m with her. How many times has he tried to kill us?”
“Uh, hello? Standing right here. Some people have no manners..”
“Spike! Enough. Guys, he won’t hurt me. He can’t bite humans. Look, I’ll tell you the whole story later, I promise. But in the meantime, I guarantee you he’ll behave. Please.”
With a growl that clearly showed her reluctance, Devyn turned on her heel and grabbed Cordelia’s arm. Stomping up the staircase with the cheerleader in tow, the slamming of a door, echoing all the way to the lobby, signaled that the two had arrived at their destination.
“Petulant little thing, isn’t she? And she tore my good shirt. Don’t hear you getting all grumbly about that. No sir.”
Willow had had enough of Spike’s mutterings. Turning, she pushed the vampire backward as hard as she could, glaring at him when he would have protested his sudden prone-on-the-couch position. Spike knew enough to realize challenging the redhead wouldn’t be in his best interest.
“Now, you will sit there and shut up. I’m sorry you came all this way, and I’m sorry Cordelia wouldn’t let your calls through. I’m sure she thought she was doing the right thing. But I’m not going back to Sunnydale; not now, with you, and not for the foreseeable future.”
“That’s not an option, Red. I can’t keep this a secret forever, and when your little friends find out where you are there’s nothing that’s going to prevent them from coming here and collecting you themselves. I imagine coming back with me now is going to be a much more preferable trip.”
Willow was about to reply when a dark blur practically flew down the stairs. She had just enough time to register that it was a rumpled, vamped, pissed-off Angel before he had Spike by the throat, pulled off the couch and dangling in mid-air. Devyn and Cordelia came down the stairs in a more leisurely fashion and settled themselves at Cordelia’s desk to watch the show.
“Dammit, Angel! Put him down now!”
Angel merely snarled, his grip on the younger vampire tightening.
“I mean it, Angel. Put him down.” Willow tugged at Angel’s arm as hard as she could, which of course barely moved the angry vampire, but it was enough. With a final growl, Angel threw Spike back onto the couch and stepped away, schooling his features back into their human countenance. When he turned back, he spoke with a deceptive calm.
“So, Spike. What brings you here? And when will you be leaving?”
“Boy, a bloke can really feel the love in this room, can’t he? Like I was telling Red here, there’s a prophecy that the Sunnyhell group can’t quite get their little brains around. I was sent to pick up the witch and deliver her, signed, sealed and safe, back at the Watcher’s. But she seems to have other ideas. Grown a bit of a backbone, it seems. I don’t know who could’ve been influencing that.” Spike’s eyes skipped over the two women sitting across the room before returning to his grandsire.
Willow sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t mind helping, Spike, but if it’s just a matter of researching a prophecy, I can do that just as well from here. Maybe better, even- Angel’s library has a bunch of books Giles doesn’t. Why do they need me back there?”
“Do I look like I played twenty bloody questions with them, pet? They said get the witch, I go to get the witch. Doesn’t need to make sense to me if it gets me out of the bathtub.”
A soft tune filled the air. Spike turned toward Devyn, who was sitting on the edge of Cordelia’s desk picking her nails with a knife. She was whistling a tune that seemed aimless at first, but Spike soon caught the melody. He was still running it through his head- nearly two centuries of music tends to add up- when Willow stepped over and swatted the other redhead. Looking up, he noted that the cheerleader was barely holding in a giggle, and even Angel was having trouble hiding a grin.
“Hang on.. dum de dum de dum de dum dum.. de dum de dum de dum dum.. if I only had a brain.. Hey!! What the hell do you mean by that? And who ARE you, anyway?”
Devyn merely smiled in reply, never stopping the knife’s motion. Willow paced back and forth for a moment, before coming to a decision.
“Okay, first, everyone needs to calm down. This isn’t getting us anywhere. Second, Spike, I’m not going back to Sunnydale with you, so you can just get over that idea. But I’ll help, so third.. we’ll need to call Giles, get a copy of the prophecy and see what he’s come up with so far.”
“No need, pet. I’ve heard the bloody thing so many times I could recite it in my sleep. As for what they’ve found- I told you. Nothing. A big zed.”
“Fine, then. Here, write down the prophecy and then we can get started.”
“But Reeeeeeeeed..” Spike whined, prompting Willow to roll her eyes.
“What?”
“How about me? Your little gang ain’t gonna like me showing up empty handed.”
“That’s easy. You’ll stay here.”
“What?!?” The shouts came from throughout the room, including from Spike.
“Just until we figure out the prophecy.” Willow could tell she was going to have to do some serious convincing. “Look, the Scoobies still don’t know where I am. As long as they don’t, they can’t show up and try to drag me back home. If Spike goes back without me, they’re gonna do what they feel they have to to bring me back. I… I’m not ready for that yet.” She turned to Angel. “Please? If we all put our heads together, I’m sure it won’t be for long.”
Angel melted under the pleading face of his favorite witch. How could he refuse her anything?
“All right. But the moment we figure out the prophecy, out he goes.”
Willow nodded, and grabbed the sheet of paper containing the prophecy from Spike’s hand. “Let’s get started, then. Last one to the books is a rotten egg!”