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(This is original story written by Chris Kenworthy, based on the Buffy characters, who he does not own etcetera etcetara...)
"Oooh!" Once again, Buffy sat down next to Willow and smiled. "That Mister Chase. So, cough it up, Will - where is he?"
"In Los Angeles," Willow reported. "Looks like he's been operating out of there for a few months."
"Maybe he was out of town when everything went down," Angel suggested. "Couldn't get back into Sunnydale once the wall went down, so he just went somewhere else."
"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "That wouldn't make sense. Cordelia told me that 'home' was very important to her father. If he knew that Sunnydale had been invaded, he would have, I dunno - called in the national guard or something - at least the media. And we know that nobody knows what's happened to Sunnydale."
"Plus," Willow pointed out, "Cordelia talked to her Dad, at his L.A. office I think, the day we flew home from England to let him know she was coming home. So Lear Chase would have known that she'd be in Sunnydale - he'd never have given up on her."
"Hmm..." Angel thought about that for a few seconds. "Well, I think paying a visit to Mister Chase would be a very good idea. We can have a look at how the rest of the world sees Sunnydale these days."
"Yeah, good idea," Willow said, not directly 'at' Angel. She still wasn't exactly comfortable with Angel. "When did you say Marea and Franco would be here?"
"Two days," Buffy told them. "We can be to L.A. and back by then easily. Come on - no time to kill, though, huh?"
The three of them piled into Oz's van and drove away.
* * * *
"I think some of this talk is best for fewer ears," Vanessa broke in, trying again to make sure Xander ended his inspirational message to her troops on a high note. "So, could the three of you please join me in the study?"
"Sure," Xander muttered ruefully. In less than a minute the four of them were safely ensconced.
"Okay, let's see," Vanessa said, picking up a tiny notebook and scanning it. "First of all, of course, I'd like to thank the three of you for however much you can do on behalf of the Resistance. We'll do our best to protect you, of course, especially considering the fact that all three of you are no-brainer targets for Council surveillance. We've got you screened from vampire spot-checks tonight, but I'm not sure when our next opportunity will be."
"Got it," Xander told her with a smile that was only slightly tense. "As far as I'm concerned, it's just good to be doing something, and to know that we're not alone."
"I know the feeling. So... as important as your strategic information about the outside might be," Vanessa told them with an idle shake of her head, "from what you've told me about the timetable, that the Council won't be overthrown until Midwinter's, that stuff can wait. For now, I've got a few matters I'd appreciate your input on - an important merger."
"Merger?" Cordelia asked. "As in, joining forces with a team almost as big as you are? Sounds like a 'very good.'"
"Yes," Vanessa agreed. "Not sure if we can trust their objectives, but if we can, it'd be a real lifesaver, literally."
"Okay," Cordelia said, smiling. "Who are these people??"
"The mayoral civil defense force."
* * * *
"So, I've been thinking," Angel said out loud as they passed a 'Los Angeles 80 miles' sign. "While we're calling in old friends to help, how about pulling out that message service number for the demon hunter who ran into us in England?? What's her name... Lora Theron?"
Buffy scoffed. "I would hardly call Lora Theron a friend." The beautiful demon-hunter had gotten the hots for Xander the first moment she saw him, and had made a seriously intense play to seduce him away from Buffy. Lora had crawled into Xander's tent while he was sleeping, taking off her clothes when he woke up, kissing him, and considerably more. It was an understatement to say that Buffy hadn't been pleased, but Xander had actually, in his jerkish way, been true to Buffy and kept things from going too far, and Buffy was pleased about that.
"Well, I get that," Angel said, interrupting Buffy's train of thought. "But she's on our side, more or less, and a great fighter. We can use her."
Buffy sighed. "I'll think about it." A glance behind her showed Buffy that Willow was sleeping soundly in one of the middle seats. "So... this has gotta be pretty weird for you and Willow - right after you broke up, or whatever, you've got to be working together, side by side."
"Yeah," Angel muttered softly as he changed lanes.
"I can't shake the feeling that I'm somehow responsible for all of this," Buffy said. "I mean, well, I've been thinking about it ever since the whole big thing started. I mean, yeah, you didn't love her. On the other hand, given the curse, you can't really afford to love again. The two of you have fun together, take care of each other - in a lot of ways you're a perfect match. I think Willow gets that on some level. But..." Buffy took a moment thinking about how to phrase it. "She's grown up believing in love, waiting for it. She doesn't want to settle for anything else."
"Maybe she shouldn't," Angel muttered darkly. "Leave it alone, Buffy. I think Willow's better off without me. Just like you are."
Buffy looked over at Angel, looking at his strong face in the shifting glare of headlights from the cars going the other way, and impulsively brought her hand down to his. For a second, she squeezed it comfortably in what she hoped was a friendly, supportive gesture, then brought her own hand back to her lap.
* * * *
"Hey, Willow," Jenny's voice called out. "I was hoping that one of you would pop in soon. Think fast!"
A large orange, round object arced through the air towards Willow, and instinctively she caught it, and did a double-take. "How... how did I touch this??"
"I've been doing some work on the alignment," Jenny told her, smiling as she walked over.
"So you can touch things in here," Oz observed from the couch. "Cool." Suddenly Willow sat down next to Oz, and reached for his hand. Their fingers passed through each other without touching.
"The phasing's still not perfect," Jenny added belatedly. "People still futz it up. But you guys should be able to touch inanimate objects here in Elysium now. Even taste them, maybe."
"Hmm," Giles hmmed, walking in from the kitchen. "Might I suggest one more modification to the experiment?" He tossed a towel to Oz, and gestured that he and Willow should attempt again to shake hands - with the towel in between.
Willow reached her hand toward the towel. She touched it - she could feel it. For a second, there was the impression of Oz's fingers underneath. And then, suddenly, the alignment bounced out and her hand passed through both the towel and Oz's hand.
"Sorry," Oz told her with his wry smile.
"As I said, not perfect," Jenny added apologetically.
"So, what's goin' on out there?" Oz asked, feeling that it was more than past the time to change the subject.
"Not much," Willow told him with a tired smile. "We're driving down to Los Angeles to talk to Lear Chase."
"Ah." Oz looked calmly into Willow's eyes. The first time that the two of them had met after Oz's death, here in Elysium, there had been some awkwardness, mostly from Willow's remorse about leaving Oz for Angel, which she felt especially bad about now that she had ended things with Angel. But Oz, with his trademark composure, had declared that there was no point in worrying about such old issues now that he was dead, and they had become good friends again.
Willow knew that she was lucky - there had been so much unsaid between herself and Oz when he had died, and not many people got the chance Willow had recieved - a second chance to tell Oz how much he had meant to her. She knew that Oz felt the same way.
"So," Jesse broke in - Willow hadn't even realized that he was over at Giles' eternal home today as well. "Want to try a raspberry milk, Willowish? See if it tastes right?"
* * * *
"So," Cordelia complained quietly as they crept down a deserted alley. "Just where are we going, anyway?"
"My contact with the MCDF gave me an address and a key," Vanessa said. "He said that 'the way would be clear from there.' That's all I know."
When they got to the address, it was a small building, not much more than ten feet cubed, nestled between a three-story house and a shoe store. Vanessa shrugged, worked the stiff and heavy deadbolt open with the large key she had mentioned, and stepped back to let the three Slayerettes precede her into the building, for all that it scarcely had room for all four of them.
There were a few shelves full of weapons, odd items and papers, but the inside of the building was dominated by one simple feature - a hole leading down through the floor and into the ground, with a heavy metal ladder attached to one side. "Well, let's go," Vanessa muttered, gesturing to the ladder. Cordelia shot an uncertain look at Tojo, but the Watcher took a dignified breath and began to climb down. Cordelia followed, rather nervously, (she was afraid of heights,) and Xander began to climb down after making sure that Vanessa locked the door from inside. The witch turned Resistance leader brought up the rear.
At the bottom of the ladder, (which Xander figured was maybe about three stories down, though he couldn't really tell,) a narrow corridor led through the rock, but lights could be seen shining up ahead. After a moment's unspoken hesitation, the group re-organized with Vanessa leading the way forward, Xander at her side.
Sure enough, there was a large chamber up the way, filled with men and the occasional woman, in dark purple uniforms. Most of them were completely unfamilar, but Xander recognized one police chief who had been up to the school a few times, when there had been a particularly disturbing attack of the paranormal, and then there was... "Snyder??"
"Harris?" the troll-boy ex-principal said, turning around to face him head on. "'Toxic event' Harris? What the flaming hell are you doing here?? And Tojo, and everyone's favorite little princess, Cordelia Chase? Are you losers the Resistance?"
"They're with me," Vanessa said authoritavely. "I'm Vanessa Bateman, Mister Snyder - leader of the Resistance. We met once, Principal, though I doubt that you'd remember it. Who's in charge here? You??"
"Hardly," the police chief said, shoving Snyder a little to the side. "Snyder was just in City Hall when everything went down. He's a soldier now, and an administrative assistant, but far from in charge. Hello, Miss Bateman." He offered his hand for Vanessa to shake. "I'm Chief McLennan, founding father. I'm, well, I'm one of the more 'in charge' people here."
"What about the Mayor?" Xander asked. "Can we talk to him?"
A man entered the chamber from another passageway - maybe fifty years old, kinda grizzled and worn. Suddenly he stumbled, and in an instant, he wasn't a man any longer. A green and yellow beast, with tentacles and a shark's head, sat on its knobby knees on the stone floor, and clambered to its feet.
"Oh, my god. What on earth, Hell, and Limbo is that??" Cordelia breathed.
Just as suddenly, the beast morphed back into the grizzled middle-aged man. "I," he said witheringly, "am the Right Honorable Brian Stephenson - the Mayor of Sunnydale!!"
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