Mad Bad & Dangerous To KnowBy DM Evans
When sorrows come,
they come not single spies,
but in battalions
Hamlet Act IV, Sc.5. L 86 - William Shakespeare
Seeing Buffy again, just watching her fight, amazed me. For a moment, I forgot all my problems. She was a thing of beauty, deadly and glorious. I missed seeing her do battle so much; I missed the way her body moved. I felt like I'd never left her side. And the kiss was just how I remembered her kisses. There was nothing chaste about it, not by any stretch of the imagination. Lust like waves, so out of place for the time and place, crashed over us but somewhere in the midst of that I caught Spike's scent.
I hadn't been able to make it back to L.A. before sunup so I took my shelter in an all day garage. Now, stretched out in the back seat trying to get comfortable, I could think of nothing but our childish behavior afterwards. Maybe it was the stress, or maybe I was still the man who refused to grow up and act my age just like my father claimed all those years ago. I kept thinking about Buffy and Spike, imagining them together, making myself ill. I imagined what I'd do to him. It made me feel better but it was still childish. We had been like teenagers at a high school dance, with all the maturity of a two-year old.
Connor had acted more mature than me, when he stood beside Cordelia, and talked about being a father. He wanted to grow up. Me, I wanted to prove I was the better choice. I even sat through that stupid speech about cookies just to show I could listen to her needs. The whole time I was thinking, ïBuffy, this is the best you can come up with?'
It's almost summer in L.A. and the sluggish breeze trickling in through the garage was uncomfortable warm, even for me. In spite of that distraction, I still couldn't get them all out of my head. Buffy and Spike, a comatose Cordelia, Connor and Jasmine. Praying for sleep, my mind shifted to thought of how I could change things and make them better.
Finally sleep came, and with it, Darla, soft and beautifully dressed in white satin. She curled up on top of me, face to face. She smelled of roses, a fresh clean scent that drove out the residuals of jasmine. Her breath felt warm against my flesh. Breath?
"Our boy is in so much pain," she said, touching my cheek softly, like she had so many times in the past.
"I know. I tried to make it better."
"You tried to make him disappear." Her voice was hard, accusatory.
I had nowhere to go to shield myself from her the harshness of her eyes. I tried to push her off of me but oddly couldn't.
"I wanted him to have a normal life."
"I was there when Connor faced his worst crisis. He was suffering horribly." Darla's voice broke as her eyes squeezed shut. "That bitch was in him, in his mind, making him do terrible things. He was afraid, confused and so alone."
Tears trickled from her eyes and I brushed her hair back. "I don't understand, Darla."
"Cordelia and the thing within her wanted him to kill a girl to bring Cordelia's child forth. I tried to stop him. Angel, he hated you so much. How did this happen?"
I shook my head. "It's so complicated."
"But he loved you, too. He just didn't know how to find it in himself. I tried to help him. I almost saved him." Darla snuggled against me. "I can save him now. He's in the white room, Angel. They think he's safe there, safe from you, but you can rescue him."
"I can," I growled, holding her tight.
"Beware the panther," she said and dissolved as if she had never existed. Wonderful, I was hallucinating again but somehow I knew it was more than residual brain damage from my time at the bottom of the ocean.
I faded in and out after that, something almost unnatural about my exhaustion. The white room, I knew well. I could breach that, but what did ïbeware the panther' mean? And how would Darla know anything about our son? It didn't matter. Prophecy dream, hallucination, haunting, whatever, I chose to believe in it.
The sun hadn't completely set when I finally became fully awake. From the shadows of the garage, I watched it drop from the sky. My phone rang just as I pulled out onto the highway.
"Angel, meet us where we were last night," Wes said and hung up. Either he had found something or something had gone terribly wrong.
I drove hard, listening to the roar of the GTX's huge engine. Fred and Wes were waiting in the park. They must have cabbed it again since there was no sign of Wes' SUV. Fred's eyes were huge; she was obviously terrified of something.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Didn't you hear?" Fred babbled. "We were so afraid you had been caught in it until Willow called."
"What?" I felt weak. Something bad must have happened in the battle with the First.
"Sunnydale is gone." Wes' spidery fingers rubbed his dark chin. "Apparently a sink hole opened and encompassed all of Sunnydale."
Cold ran through me. They weren't all gone. Willow had survived to call and tell them I hadn't been there. Buffy was alive. I knew it. I could feel her. I would know if she were dead. The last time was a fluke. I wasn't even on earth when she died. But what about Faith? "The First won?"
"No. Willow said it was a very long story. They'll call again when they've rested and tended to the injured." Wes read my mind. "Buffy is fine."
"Angel, there's more. That amulet, it helped, but it killed the wearer," Fred said. "Willow said she was glad it wasn't you."
"Spike," I mumbled. All I could think was Buffy was alive and she had saved the world. Again. And Spike had gone out a hero. Well, my grandchild always was an attention hound. "And Faith?"
"She made it. We'll tell you later. Right now, we should pack," Wes said. "Lilah was hovering around us, this afternoon."
"Lorne hasn't been seen since he went off with that actor." Fred ran a hand through her long hair, her fingers catching in the snarls. "But that could just mean he's having a good time. You've got me so paranoid."
"Gunn is ignoring us," Wes said.
"Flirting with that...that..." Fred sputtered, her pale face darkened.
"You think Lilah suspects something?" I asked, ignoring Fred's jealous outburst.
"I think she might. She and Gunn were in conference for much of the day and when we tried to speak to him, he was too busy for us," Wes replied. There was doubt in his eyes. Gunn could be ignoring them thanks to the sexual tension between him, Fred and Wes; obviously the memory wipe hadn't erased that, which didn't surprise me. That had nothing to do with Connor and he was the only thing Wolfram and Hart's spell had dealt with.
"Wes did manage to break into the intradimensional holding area in the library. He got most of for the texts in the library," Fred said, casting a proud look his way. She could be such a butterfly, our Fred. Connor seemed to be the only male she hadn't fluttered to.
Wes glanced at her. "I replaced them with phone books, enchanted to appear like the genuine tomes. It won't fool them for long."
"Good work, Wes," I said.
"I wasn't so lucky. What I mean is, I didn't find anything that would be useful to us except for some spyware and a few
weapons." Fred shrugged. "I took them."
I nodded. "That'll be helpful."
"And we found this." Wes pulled out some papers from his back pocket.
I unfolded them and read. That creeping cold returned. If I had a beating heart, it would have frozen. The whole thing had been a set up. Connor's mental collapse was real enough but the incident in the mall had been orchestrated by Wolfram and Hart. I was reading reports from a group called the Sweepers. They had had my son under surveillance probably from the moment he was born, given the amount of paperwork Wes had recovered. It hadn't ended when L.A. descended into darkness.
Jasmine's ïpeace and love' magic that had torn most of L.A. away from their jobs to worship her didn't seem to be able to sway the sort of demons Wolfram and Hart had employed to spy on Connor. These sweepers were relentless and the firm had used that well. I stared at the paperwork, my hands shaking, wondering why I hadn't questioned how Connor learned to build bombs or how Cordy had gotten to the mall; how Connor subdued so many people in the first place. Somehow I had wanted to believe he managed to bell all the cats alone with technology he had no way of knowing the first thing about.
Truth was, I didn't think about anything beyond Connor's pain. All that had registered with me was my son was coming apart like a jigsaw in a hurricane. The only thing I could remember was hearing him shriek that I hadn't protected him, how I didn't try hard enough, how I didn't hold him tight enough. Those words were more agonizing than my centuries in hell combined, worse even than the look on Buffy's face when she ran me through.
I had tried so hard when he was a baby but afterwards, damn him for being right. I had thrown my teenaged son into the wilds of L.A., a world he didn't know how to survive in. Granted, he had tried to kill me. I don't know how else I could have handled it. Maybe if I had actually taken the time to work with him. But I shunted him aside for Cordelia. Idiot. Now I had given him to those who would do who knew what to him. He was probably suffering, afraid and alone. Did he even know who he was? Did he know I betrayed him?
"Angel," Fred's voice broke through my introspection.
My head jerked up. How many times had she called my name?
"Angel, who is he?" Wes asked. "Why would Wolfram and Hart keep tabs on this child?"
"To maneuver me into signing on with them," I said. "And I don't know exactly why they want me working with them but I have some guesses."
"I don't understand. What is he to you?" Fred asked, her nose wrinkling.
"He's my son."
I was prepared for the wild stares of disbelief but not for the rage bubbled up in me suddenly. This was all Wes' fault. If he hadn't stolen Connor, if he had only trusted the team to help, my son would still be a baby in my arms and not an anguished teen chasing death with arms wide open. I couldn't think about that. I needed to concentrate on things I could still change.
"Angel, that's not possible," Wes said.
"Just listen and don't interrupt. I know what I'm going to tell you sounds impossible but it's true. A spell has removed part of your memory."
I let the story of the last year spill out of me. They stayed very quiet throughout its telling, simply staring at me, sifting the
kernels of my story, questioning my sanity.
"Angel, that's a little much," Fred finally said.
"I know. What's important is finding Connor and a way around Wolfram and Hart. They have him, and he's at risk. But I think I know where he is."
"You do?" Fred looked irritated I hadn't said so before. I could understand that. All of our nerves were more than a little frayed. She pushed a stray strand of hair back. She had it pulled back in her usual way. It was too tight; it gave her a rattish look.
"I do but if we free him, we need to leave town so we need a plan before we snatch him," I replied.
"Are you thinking of leaving L.A?" Wes' blue eyes were wide with disbelief as if he never considered I would run from a fight.
I nodded. "Out of state.""We're running?" Fred took a few steps back in shock; like Wes she must have been expecting us to take the fight to Wolfram and Hart's door just like always.
"Strategic withdrawal. Wolfram and Hart has too many resources here," I said. "And I want Cordelia out of here. Wes, I know the Council is in ruins but there are other holdings besides London, ones that might still be standing."
"Yes." A knowing look flooded into his eyes. "Are you thinking of turning Cordy over to them?"
I nodded. "Magic damaged her. Maybe magic can help her. I know the Council owes us no favors and I don't trust their motives any more than I do Wolfram and Hart's but at least they're on the side of good."
"I'll call Giles. He might have ideas," Wes replied.
"Good. Giles is ideal. I trust him and he cared about Cordelia." Or at least I thought he had since she had been part of Buffy's group, more or less.
"I'll call him first thing," Wes said, then clucked his tongue. "Truly? A son, Angel?"
"I might have some proof back at the hotel...maybe," I said, heading for my car. "Let's go."
"Wait." Fred pulled a device out of her pocket. She ran it over the car. It squealed. Fred took out a little pen knife from her purse and dug a metallic thing out of one of the seats. "A bug," she said, proudly.
"More proof that all is not as it seems with our new partners," Wes said.
"I hate this," I snarled. "I got us into this by being stupid."
"What's done is done. We've all made huge mistakes. I obviously made one beyond belief if what you've said about Connor is true," Wes said, evenly.
"It's true," I snapped, not looking at him. "Any more bugs, Fred?"
"No, at least not ones this can detect," she said, climbing into my car.
Once we were on the road, Wes looked at me. "Where will we go?"
"I'm not sure yet. Tell me what happened in Sunnydale."
I knew I had more important things to consider, like how to get into the White Room but the fact was Sunnydale had been erased from the face of the planet. That was pretty significant. I listened in shock to Wes' retelling of Buffy's plan, what little Willow had told him. I wondered briefly if splitting the power between all the Potentials had weakened all the Slayers. Obviously not enough to keep them from winning.
But what curdled inside me was the thought, that if I hadn't given the amulet over, if I had done what I wanted to, I would be the dead one. My son would be defenseless. Oddly enough, I think both Buffy and I knew that whoever wore that amulet was going to die. I had been willing to do that to save the world, to save Buffy. No, that's a lie. I wanted to die because I wasn't sure I could face a world without my son. He had brought me nothing but grief and pain and I didn't care.
And somehow I knew Spike was aware of the sacrifice he was going to make. That he did so willingly was a shock. Spike had never been selfless a day in his life. How things have changed. I guess the question became, did Buffy really want me to ready the second wave, which I had failed to do. What could I do hiding from the sun inside my car with the garage screwing up my cell phone connections. Of course, Buffy hadn't let me in on her plan. She had just told me to be the second wave. So was having me as a fall back really the plan, or had Buffy made a conscious choice as to which of us she wanted to live? I could drive myself insane thinking like this.
"Angel," Wes was saying. "Do you want me to try and plot out a place for us to go?"
"Have ideas ready."
"I could rent us an RV," Fred said.
"No," Wes argued. "Plane."
"I can't go on a plane. If something goes wrong and we don't land at night, I'm cooked," I said.
"Not if you're in a coffin in the cargo section," Wes said. "I have a death certificate on the computer ready ever since you first invited me to join Angel Investigations. It's waiting for your date of death in anticipation we might need to go ïhome' to wherever to bury you."
I gave him a curious look. "You do?"
He nodded. "Ready for anything or at least I like to pretend I am," he said, bitterly. "If we have to get out of L.A. quickly, a plane would be better. Wolfram and Hart won't be expecting it. We can rent an RV at the other end and do a better job of disappearing."
"I like that," I said.
"How about Texas? I know it pretty well," Fred said then shrugged. "Well, at least some of it."
"No, they know you're from there and I don't want to endanger your parents. It'd be safer to go where we have no ties at all," I said.
"Wise idea," Wes replied.
"And Fred, do you think it's possible to get tranquilizers, a lot of them?"
"There're plenty in the lab. Why?"
"Connor may be insane." I hated saying it but it could be true. I had driven enough people mad to know. I had seen the torment in my son's eyes, the hollowness, the fragility. It might have been temporary or he might be like Dru and remain so for the rest of his life, which would be short. I couldn't let him live like that.
"Is he dangerous, Angel?" Wes asked.
"He's quick. He's as strong as me and he's deadly. I've lost fights to him. So we have to be prepared to keep him sedated," I said. They didn't argue.
The hotel appeared undisturbed when we arrived. We talked nonsense while Fred slowly scanned the lobby, our offices and our rooms. No bugs, at least not yet. I was starving. I dragged myself into the kitchen, heated up some blood then headed upstairs. Partly to prove my story, partly to punish myself, I found the box of Connor's baby clothes, his crib and a picture of Cordelia holding him. I called them up to look at this meager proof of my son's existence. I wondered what the spell made them think this stuff was.
"I've never seen any of this before," Wes said. "Was it left over with the hotel?"
That answered that question. "No, I bought it for Connor."
"And that's him with Cordy?" Fred pointed at the picture. "I thought that was a cousin of hers."
"Have you ever heard Cordy talk about her family?" I asked.
"Other than her father and his lost fortune? No," Wes admitted, his brow beetling.
"Exactly."
"I saw this in my room when I was checking for bugs." Fred held out a picture frame. The sleek metal encased a picture of her and Gunn on the boardwalk. Connor was between them. "We were out for a day of fun when someone snapped that picture and tried to sell it to us. I can't tell you why we bought it or who that kid is."
Loopholes in the spell. Why the hell didn't I ever consider that when I asked for it? "Connor probably had never seen a camera before. That's him."
"You said you know where he might be. How? Where?" Wes fidgeted impatiently.
I headed out of the room, and returned downstairs. "In the White Room. Don't ask how I know. You'll think I'm more insane than you probably already do."
Before they could respond, the front door opened and Lorne dragged in. He looked like he was coming off a three day bender. He collapsed on the couch dramatically.
"What a wonderful two days," he said, as he reclined on the couch. "I think I'll sleep for a week." When none of us said anything, he pulled himself together and looked at us with puffy eyes. For a moment I was reminded of Doyle after one of his monumental nights. "What is it?"
"You mean besides a town falling into a hellmouth?" I asked. "Where were you?"
"Don't get all uptight, Angelcakes," he breezed. Then his eyes narrowed. "Hellmouth?"
"Sunnydale's gone. And I needed your help yesterday but you couldn't be bothered," I said, no forgiveness in my tone. He should have helped when asked, not take off to play with the stars.
Lorne got to his feet, anger making the green of his face pale out to a sickly shade. "I wasn't going to get another opportunity like that. He was going to be in Europe for months shooting his new film."
"Fred told you this was important," I replied, coldly.
"Well, I'm sorry. Fred didn't say what it was, just that you wanted us to meet you," Lorne said defensively.
"You didn't sign any contracts did you, Lorne?" Fred blurted out.
"No. Lilah was asking me to make it all official but the yacht was going to leave without me. So I told her I'd do it when I got back. Then the yacht broke down, not that we really noticed. We were having too much of a good time," Lorne said, smoothing the uncharacteristic wrinkles in his clothing. "What's going on?"
"Don't sign anything Wolfram and Hart gives you," I said.
"Angel-pie, what are you talking about? This is a chance of a life time. Why wouldn't I sign?"
"Because the contracts tend to run even after you die. They can't be destroyed. I know, I tried destroying Lilah's," Wes said, shocking me. I wondered how he had hooked up with Lilah in this new history. Of course, Lilah could have altered Wes' memories of her making her more prominent in his life just to be contrary. "It's beginning to look like Wolfram and Hart lied to us. They're spying on Angel and we don't want to end up sharing Lilah's hell now do we?"
Lorne sagged back onto the couch. "We were scammed?"
"Oh, I'm sure they'll give us everything they promised," I said, deciding to trust Lorne. "But the price is too high. Fred, could you bring Lorne up to speed. Then start packing. Wes, we have to plan a travel route and figure out a way into a certain room."
I decided not to mention the actual location in front of Lorne just in case he was actually still on Wolfram and Hart's side. I shut the door to my office and Wes placed a call to Giles, rousting the poor man from his sleep. Once we told him about Cordelia, sleep was the least of his concerns. Neither Buffy nor Faith were there but Dawn promised to tell them congratulations for me. I listened to Wes' ideas for a travel route and tried to think of some of my own. I wouldn't be able to rescue my son until this time tomorrow if I was lucky. I just hoped he could hold out until then.