Enemy Incognito

By Wynn

Chapter Twenty-Four: Extreme Measures

"Cordelia?" Angel took a few halting steps forward, his entire being focused on the brunette vision before him. Her hair had returned to its lustrous long brown, hanging in soft waves down her back. She wore a pair of black pants and a plunging white satin shirt; a black opal necklace adorned her neck. A broad smile appeared on Cordelia's face as she moved into the room, slowly approaching him. "You… you…"

"Eloquent as always," she said. The breathless waver in her voice and the wide grin on her face belied the sarcasm inherent in her words.

He smiled, feeling his body begin to tremble again as the realization that Cordelia was standing before him resounded within his soul. He lifted a shaky hand, brushing the tips of his fingers against her cheek, a whisper of a caress that sent tremors through her body. "You're really here."

"Well, duh," she said. "You can't get rid of me that easy, Angel. Someone needs to save you from your brooding."

A half-sob, half-laugh escaped his lips. He closed the distance between himself and Cordelia, dragging her into a fierce, possessive hug. She threw her arms around his neck, and they remained entwined in each other's arms, relieved and exhilarated to be reunited, oblivious to the six people gaping at them from across the room.

Angel pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. "I thought… I thought you would be gone forever."

"Me, too. Time passed… I don't know how long exactly. It runs differently there. Slower, yet faster. But still mind numbingly boring. Like the 'would rather be at the dentist's office having a root canal' type of boring." One corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. "I think the Powers finally got tired of me nagging them. They've got an entire universe to run, so they're not exactly familiar with the whole concept of soul sucking boredom. I mean, I only got to help one person. The rest of the extremely long time was spent gazing at the 'magnificence and wonderment inherent in the universe.' Whatever."

Angel laughed. He touched his forehead against Cordelia's as he said, "I should have known the Powers would be no match for you."

"Well, they brought me back here because of the nagging and the upcoming big evil thing that I'm supposed to help fight against. You know the usual."

"I don't mean to butt into the loving reunion, cupcakes," Lorne said as he cautiously approached the brunette duo. "But some of us other than Angel would like to show a little love to the returning Cordy."

Cordelia locked eyes with Lorne. She pulled away from Angel, flashing him a bright smile, and walked over to Lorne, hugging him tightly. "Missed you, too," she whispered.

Angel watched them embrace. He winced as an excited squeal pierced the air. Fred pushed off the couch and launched across the room, nudging Lorne out of the way and hugging Cordelia. "Oh my god! I'm so glad you're back! We all missed you so much! Everything has been different since you left and I missed having you around. What was it like where you were? Did you actually meet the Powers that Be? Were they nice?"

A slightly startled look on her face, Cordelia gently patted Fred on the back. She slipped out of the excited girl's embrace and said, "I missed you too, Fred."

"Glad you're back," Gunn said as he threw an arm around Cordelia's shoulders. "Things were getting dull here without you."

"Not too dull though," Cordelia said as she stepped away from Gunn, her dark eyes locked on Connor. He stood in the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows, his face turned down to the floor, occasionally rising up and stealing glances at her. Arching an eyebrow, Cordelia walked across the room towards Connor. "What? No hug? Just because you're 'The Destroyer' doesn't mean you're not obligated to give me a hug. Or do I need to sit on you for five hours and wait for a hug?" An amused smirk crossed her face as she glanced over at Buffy and Spike. She snickered at the looks of shock on their faces and returned her gaze to Connor. "I'm waiting."

Connor looked around, taking in the various levels of amusement plastered across the faces of the seven people throughout the room. Frowning slightly, he pushed off the wall and walked to Cordelia. He awkwardly wrapped one arm around her, leaning as far away from the brunette as possible, as he said quietly, "Welcome, back."

"Thank you," she said as she ruffled his hair, delighting in the murderous scowl that appeared on his face. "Deal with it and expect more displays of mushiness in the future, Ok. No more uncivilized cave child for you, got it?"

Shrugging, Connor said as he returned to the corner of the room, "Sure. Whatever."

Cordelia turned and looked at Buffy and Spike. She quirked an eyebrow at Spike's darker, curlier hair. "Nice hair." Gaze darting from Spike to Buffy, she said, "So… who's trying to kill you now?"

* * *

Giles stepped out of the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet, a bundle of dirty, alcohol drenched clothes in hand. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue cotton pants and a light grey T-shirt, courtesy of Emilia. He wondered if they were her boyfriend's clothes. Frowning at the thought, he moved down the hall towards the kitchen. He saw Emilia standing before the stove, a tea kettle on one of the burners beginning to whistle; two mugs sat on a round white table in the corner of the kitchen. She turned and smiled at him as he entered the room.

"Feeling better, I hope. You can set the clothes in the corner. I'll throw them in the laundry in a moment."

Nodding slightly, Giles placed the clothes off to the side and pulled one chair out from beneath the table. He sat down as Emilia brought over the steaming kettle, pouring water into both mugs. "Thank you for the clothes. Are they your, um, boyfriend's o-or husband's?"

Emilia laughed. "I don't have a boyfriend or husband, so you can rest easy now. Or maybe not, now that you know you're all alone inside this flat with me with no one to come and rescue you." She returned the kettle to the stove top, still chuckling, and opened a nearby cabinet, pulling out a square container. Reaching into the metal container, she pulled out a small cloth satchel, tugged on the slender thread holding the satchel closed, and dumped the contents into Giles's mug. She handed him a spoon and indicated for him to stir.

He glanced at the cup, a mixture of curiosity and hesitation on his face. "Um, what did you put in there?"

"It's my own very special cure for potential hangovers. And if you've been drinking for twelve hours, something tells me you're going to need all the cures you can get." She sighed as he remained still, lightly grasping the silver spoon in his hand. "Oh, come on. Do you think I'm going to try to poison you? That I'm some serial killer that invites poor, drunken men back to my flat to sober them up, only to off them with a poisoned cuppa?"

"Well, no," Giles protested. He frowned again as Emilia snatched the spoon from his hand, plunging it into his cup of water and stirring the contents briskly. Placing the spoon on the counter top, Emilia lifted his glass and took a drink.

"Satisfied?"

"Yes," he said testily as he snatched the cup out of her hands.

"A bit paranoid, aren't you?" Emilia reached into the container once more and removed a tea bag, dunking it into her own mug of hot water.

"I'm not paranoid. Just careful."

"Careful? Why?"

"I…" Giles trailed off, pain flashing in his light grey eyes as Randall's scream of horror rang in his ears. "Nothing. I-I have to go." He stood, knocking over the chair, and scrambled out of the kitchen. He ran for the front door, yanking his coat off the rack hanging off the back of the door. He started as he felt Emilia's hand touch his shoulder. "Uh… thank you for the-the… Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said, handing him his shoes.

Giles opened the door and moved into the hall. He glanced once over his shoulder, locking eyes with her, anguish screaming from the slump of his shoulders and faint lines around his eyes and mouth, before disappearing down the dark street, the image of her, of her wild hair, of her slender frame, and of her wide, concerned, violet eyes searing into his brain.

* * *

Leaning forward, Giles lightly laid a kiss on Emilia's cheek, the soft scent of lavender clinging to her pale skin, invading his senses, and bringing forth remembrances of her unique blend of earth and spices from the past. "Hello."

"Hi." She reached around him and gently closed the front door. Leaning back, she looked into his eyes and said, "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you. I can't stay long. I have to get to Dawn before nightfall."

"How is Dawn?" Emilia asked as she and Giles moved from the hall into her living room. A wide picture window let in the red and gold rays of the sunset, highlighting the rich earth tones decorating the room. A brick fireplace resided opposite the picture window; on the mantle, between a set of circular oil lamps, was an intricately interwoven silver sculpture. Plush throw rugs lay haphazard across the hardwood floor. A pale wood artist's easel sat before the wide window, a pad of blank cream colored paper and set of pencils beside the easel. Emilia sat on one of the mahogany sofas that circled a low cream coffee table in the center of the room.

"Good," Giles said as he sat beside her. "She is the same, but her wrist will heal in time. Anya has healed completely from her chest wound, and Faith and Buffy are recovering from their injuries also."

"And what about Clem? How is he?"

"Much better. Your medicines helped a lot."

"Good. I'd hoped they would. Did Buffy and Spike make it to Los Angeles safely?"

"Yes. She called and left a message earlier this morning."

Emilia was quiet as she watched Giles, taking in the worry etched across his face. "She's a bright girl, Rupert. She will be alright. You've trained her well."

Smiling softly, Giles said, "I know. I still worry."

"She has Spike. He won't let anything happen to her."

A faint grimace crossed Giles' face. "You're so certain he'll protect her?"

"You're so certain he won't?" Emilia shifted on the sofa, drawing her legs beneath her, straightening her gold linen skirt. She leaned her head on the back of the couch and looked at Giles. "I wondered if you had ever completed your studies at the Watcher's Academy. And now here you are with not one but two Slayers."

"Much to the chagrin of the Watcher's Council."

"What do you mean by that? You've helped keep Buffy alive for the past six years or so, and you're helping Faith overcome her troubles. I would think the Council would be indebted to you for helping these girls."

"Yes," Giles murmured. "One would think that, but the Council sees these girls as tools to be used in whatever way they wish. They don't care about their well being or state of mind. They only care that Buffy and Faith carry out their orders and follow procedure and all that rot. Which they rarely do."

"And I'm sure you encourage this disobedience to the Council's authority."

"Sometimes."

"Glad to know that you haven't gone completely on the straight and narrow." Emilia paused. She grasped Giles hand and said, "They are lucky to have you in their lives, to have you care more about them than their supposed destinies."

"I wouldn't be in their lives if it wasn't for you."

Emilia shook her head, a small smile curving her lips. "Nonsense. You would have found your way eventually. All I did was give you a little nudge of encouragement."

Giles smirked at her understatement of the impact she had had on his life. "A little nudge?"

Laughing, Emilia said, "Ok, so it was more like a massive kick in the ass. I only did what was necessary. Sometimes extreme measures are needed to make one realize what one needs and wants."

* * *

The alley beside Mossino's was quiet and still. A faint light shone from the dojo's inner office, spilling out through the glass panes of the office door into the rest of the building, highlighting the man standing before the front door. Faith squinted. The man matched Buffy's description of Tyler. He pulled out a key from the pocket of his satchel and locked the front door, looking once around the darkened street before walking away from the building.

Faith watched until he disappeared around the corner then fished the small brass key out of the pocket of her black jeans. Buffy had given Faith the key to Mossino's before leaving for L.A.; it would gain them access to the outer parts of the dojo, but Faith, Anya, and Xander would have to find some way of breaking into Tyler's office to search for more videotapes. Grasping the key in her hand, Faith stepped from the shadows of the alley and moved to the door, glancing in each direction as she slid the key into the lock and turned. She opened the door and stepped inside the cool building, holding the door open for Xander and Anya.

"Remind me again why you're here, Xander?" Anya said as she shut the door behind her. Faith tossed her the key, and Anya relocked the front door, pocketing the key as she waited for Xander to reply.

Xander sighed. He glanced over his shoulder at Anya and said, "To make sure this goes smoothly. Giles may be all trusting of Faith, but I'm not. I want to make sure we find this tape thing so Buffy can kick this guy's ass. And the last time you went looking for information, Anya, you got into a bar fight."

"I didn't start it. All I did-"

"Could you two wait until we're done with the B and E before fighting?" Faith said, irritation flickering across her dark features. "I don't want to go back to jail 'cause someone heard you two bickering at each other." She turned away from Xander and Anya and looked around the building, spotting the main mirror-lined room. Over her shoulder she said, "Anya, you and Xander find a way to get into this guy's office and look for more tapes. I'll look for the camera in here."

"Who put you in charge of this little adventure? More importantly, who put you in charge of me?"

Rolling her eyes, Faith turned and looked at Xander. She said simply, "Giles. Have a problem with it, go talk to him. Now you can either go with Anya and look for the tapes or come with me and look for the camera."

Xander looked from Anya, who stood before the office door inspecting the lock, to Faith, who glared at him from the entrance to the main room. He sighed as he turned and walked towards Anya and the office.

Suppressing another eye roll, Faith moved into the main room. She reached into the back pocket of her pants and removed a slim flashlight. Turning it on, she directed the narrow beam of light around the room. To her right, a set of blue training mats were lined up in front of the wall of windows, and a training dummy sat in the center of the room. She directed the light at the ceiling, slowly dragging it across the pale surface, looking for the tiny surveillance camera. Faith took a few steps further into the room, pausing as the light flashed across the tall trophy case against the far wall. "All too easy," she murmured, her boots thudding across the carpeted floor as she moved to the wooden case. Halfway across the room, the fluorescent lights flickered on. Blinking to clear her vision, Faith tensed as she heard a deep voice speak behind her.

"Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing in my dojo?"

Switching off the flashlight, Faith returned it to her back pocket. She crossed her arms across her chest and turned around, a wicked smirk curving her ruby lips. Tyler stood in the threshold between the main room and entrance hall, blocking her only escape route, a slim curved dagger clasped lightly in his hand.

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