just fic

Title: Incense and Peppermint
Author: David Falkayn
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: The characters and universe of “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” and “Angel” all belong to Joss Whedon, Dave Greenwalt, Mutant Enemy, and Productions who hold all rights and copyrights. This is purely a work of amusement; no profit is being asked for or received from this work.
Notes: This story takes place after “Birthday” but before the events of “Waiting in the Wings”, so the Grooster hasn’t made his appearance yet. This is also my first “Angel” fic, so any help as regards characterization or anything else that you can think of that would make this story better, please feel free to let me know. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I am enjoying writing it.
If you’d like to read some definitions of 60s slang, check out these links:
http://colinp1.home.mindspring.com/hipterms.htm
http://cougartown.com/slang.html
And for general stuff on 60s pop culture such as what movies were playing and what songs were hot, you might want to check here: http://www.sixtiespop.freeserve.co.uk/


Part 1 (of ?)

As Cordelia walked down the park trail, she flashed a wide grin as she lost herself, for a few brief moments at least, in the gentle sunshine, green grass, and clear, cloudless day. Yes, her recent birthday did give herself and everyone else, especially her best friend, Angel, the cursed vampire with whom she worked in Angel Investigations, a scare, but, she survived the experience. And, thanks to Skip, she had a received a very special birthday present. In making her half-demon, her demon guide had ensured that she would no longer have to deal with the excruciating pain her visions had been giving her, much less have to worry about the prospect of having to die from them. All things considered, things could have been much worse for the former Queen C, so she decided to celebrate her good fortune by taking a walk in the park.

“It’s getting to where my birthdays are worse than Buffy’s!” She laughed in merry amusement as she spotted a group of young men who had been tossing a football stop their game in order to check her out. ‘And why shouldn’t they give me a look?’ She thought as a self-satisfied smirk crossed her features. Her low cut blue jeans were nice and tight, showing off her curved hips rather well while at the same time revealing, along with the red midriff top, just enough of the sun and moon tattoo she wore at the small of her back to entice. Also, the former May Queen knew just how to strut her stuff. Smiling smugly, she swayed her hips just enough to give the football players a thrill while at the same time holding her head erect and walking at a brisk pace, sending a very clear message to the boys that she wasn’t interested in anything more than giving them a good look at her. “Yup.” The former Queen of Sunnydale High beamed, “Still got it.”

Then, as the boys faded from view, it came. Flashes of color, men and women dancing, wearing clothes that looked like they were decades out of date—bright colors—robed figures chanting. Now, the partiers screamed in agony as they died at the hands of a vampire horde led by a figure that Cordelia recognized immediately as being the Master. She saw Angel drinking from a cup. He lay on the floor, writhing in pain, his demon face contorted in agony as he looked up in vain prayer for release from his suffering. Then Cordelia saw a calendar on the wall—May, 1967. Recovering from her vision, Cordelia, shaking her head, picked up her pace as she quickly exited the park to report what she had seen to her co-workers back at the Hyperion.

*********************************

“So English, what you make of it?” Gunn asked, smiling as he unwrapped the taco that he had planned to have for lunch.

“Well…” The former watcher, taking off his glasses, surmised, “It appears that someone in 1967 will attempt to raise the Master. But what I don’t understand is…” The Englishman shook his head, “If the Master did ascend from his prison in the past, then why things haven’t changed here?” He then looked across at the ensouled vampire sitting across from him, next to Cordelia on the couch. “Do you remember where you were in 1967, Angel?”

“Let me think . . .” The former scourge of Europe said in a low voice as he tried to peel back almost four decades of memories. “You’re not going to believe it.” He said with a laugh. “But I was in Sunnydale—passing through on my way to San Diego and points south.” Then, shaking his head, he asked, “But …if Cordelia’s vision is right, then why am I still here—I shouldn’t even be…alive.” He said, shaking his head at the irony of his words.

“Temporal bubble.” Fred said with a shy smile.

“What do you mean?” Angel asked as he glanced in concern at his young Seer sitting next to him.

“We’re in a temporal bubble.” The physicist and former slave explained as she typed furiously on her laptop. “We have a limited period before the mystical and quantum energies released by what happened alter the current time line.” Finishing her calculations, she then looked up, her face clearly showing her alarm. “We don’t have much time though.”

“How much do we have?” Cordelia then asked as her eyes darted about the hotel, making sure that everything was still there.

“A day at most—our time.” Fred said as she returned to her computer. “But for the person we send back, it could be a little longer—it depends on the exact time of the event and when the person arrives. Regardless, we have to send someone back to keep this from happening.”

“I’ll go.” Gunn volunteered.

“Not a good idea.” Cordelia then said, shaking her head.

“Why?” The young black man asked.

“An African-American in 1967…” Angel answered, “And in a suburban town. Even in California you won’t be able to operate easily. Take my word for it. You’re going to be hassled by every police officer who sees you wandering around ‘in the wrong neighborhood’—and back then Gunn, most of Sunnydale would be the wrong neighborhood.”

“I don’t believe it!” The young man shook his head in disgust.

“Angel’s right.” Wesley added. “Don’t forget, the Watts riots took place in 1965 and there were more riots in 1966, there were riots in Newark and Detroit during the late sixties where they called in paratroopers to crush them, and Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968. We need someone who can move about with maximum freedom.”

“I’ll go.” Angel then said. “After all, I was…am…there. I know what it was like back then.”

“You can’t go.” Fred replied, shaking her head.

“Why not?” The ensouled vampire answered back, looking like he didn’t want to take no for an answer.

“Because you’re already there.” The young physicist responded with a nervous giggle. “If you go back, you’ll create a paradox, making the situation worse than it already is. She then turned to Wesley, “You can’t go back either.” She then flashed a sweet smile, “You wouldn’t be able to survive the stress of having your body physically shifted that far back in time.” She then added as an afterthought, “Anyway, weren’t you born in 1967?

“Yes.” Wesley answered back with a slight smile. “January, in fact.”

“Then, that definitely rules you out.” Fred smiled sadly back at the ex-watcher.

Understanding rapidly dawning, Cordelia shook her head in disbelief. “You mean . . . I’m the one that’s gotta… ” Letting out a deep breath, the former Queen C raised her voice as she looked up, “Thanks for nothing, Skip!”

“We’ll need a witch to cast the spell.” Wesley then said. “The magic’s much too powerful for any of us to risk it.”

Acting decisively, Angel stood up. “I’ll get the car while you contact Willow and see if she can help us.”

Several minutes later, the former Watcher returned. “I wasn’t able to reach Willow, but I did manage to contact her estranged lover, Tara. She said that Willow’s keeping away from magic…it seems that she delved rather deeply into the darker magics and they’ve had rather negative side effects.” Angel, knowing full well the dangers of magic addiction nodded his head as he heard the news. “Tara, fortunately…” Wesley continued, “…informed me that she could perform the spell and that everything would be in readiness for us when we arrived.”

*****************************************
The drive to Sunnydale was a quiet one as Angel drove while Cordy sat next to him with Fred and Wesley riding in back. Lorne, with his usual good grace, had consented to baby-sit baby Connor while Gunn had reluctantly agreed to man the fort in the event something unexpected should turn up—after all, Holtz was still unaccounted for, and Wolfram and Hart always lurked in the shadows.

As Cordelia glanced in the bag at the dress and other articles that they had bought at a retro-clothing shop before leaving LA, she crinkled her nose, “You mean to tell me women actually wore outfits like this?” She complained disbelievingly.

“What we got’s tame compared to some of the outfits I remember seeing.” Angel then chuckled, “I remember the dress one girl I knew wore once…”

The rest of the trip to Sunnydale went just like this—laughter, pointed barbs, and the genial companionship of friends. Then, reaching their destination, Angel parked the car in front of the Magic Box, grinning. “Well…here we are.” Then turning towards Cordelia, the ensouled vampire asked, his voice filled with concern. “You sure you want to do this?”

“Yeah.” Cordelia flashed a sweet smile. “’Sides, I’m the only one who can do it—remember?”

“Be careful.” Angel then cautioned as the LA family exited the car. “There was a lot going on back then, and it’s easy to get caught up in it if you’re not careful…”

“Don’t worry, Angel.” The lovely seer smiled once again as she gave her vampire companion a playful punch on the shoulder. “I’ll stay away from any wild love-ins.”

As the LA family entered the magic shop, two figures watched in the shadows. One, a young man with short cropped red hair sitting in a van, flashed a sad smile as he remembered happier times in this town. The other, a middle-aged woman with strawberry blonde hair now touched with grey, her youthful beauty matured into a natural elegance, sat behind the wheel of her Ford Taurus, her lips turning up into a warm smile as she saw the lithe figure of Cordelia walking into the shop, the ensouled vampire who was her companion just behind her. “See you soon, roomie.”

******************************************

“So…where’s Buffy and Willow?” Cordelia asked the couple standing behind the cash register after the introductions were made.

“Buffy’s out on patrol with Spike.” Xander replied, the tone of his voice making clear his dislike for the chipped vampire.

“And Willow’s staying with Dawn tonight.” Anya added, noticeably uncomfortable at being in the joint presence of both her fiancé whom she had initially intended to curse and the woman whose heart he had broken and whose anguish had originally brought her to Sunnydale.

“Just as well.” Cordelia sighed, not bothering to hide her relief. “Buffy, Angel, and Spike in the same room together at the same time…”

“Yeah…bad news.” Xander, agreeing, nodded his head.

“So…are you coming to the wedding?” Anya, seeking to change the subject, asked with an expectant and enthusiastic smile.

“Gonna try.” Cordelia said with a winning smile. “But you know how it is in our business…”

“Tell me about it.” Xander sighed, quickly hiding his unease at the coming nuptials. “Well, I really hope you can make it.”

“Yeah, it’d mean a lot to us.” Anya added.

“I’ll try my best.” The lithe brunette smiled once again as she looked into her bag at her sixties outfit and then sighed. “Well, I better go change while Wesley and Tara get things straightened out.” She then motioned with her head towards where the ex-watcher and Wicca were standing engaged in serious conversation.

“You can change in the backroom.” The former vengeance demon offered helpfully as she gave her fiancé a peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna show Cordelia where it is…” The former demon smiled as she instructed her future husband, “Xander…you watch the money.”

************************************

“It’s a tricky spell…” Wesley said doubtfully as he and the blonde witch read carefully over the incantation.

“I know.” Tara agreed thoughtfully. “Normally, I wouldn’t do it, but…”

“We really don’t have a choice.” The ex-watcher said, finishing the lesbian witch’s thoughts. As he gazed down upon the lovely young woman, the Englishman decided that he immediately liked and respected her, not only because she was a very nice person, but also because she impressed him as someone who knew full well the dangers and limitations of magic and knew better than to push either. Reading the list of ingredients, he then asked, “Do we have the necessary elements to cast the spell?”

Nodding her head in assent to both his statement and the question he asked, Tara answered, “We should.” Then, somewhat uncertainly, she said, “I can cast the spell and send Cordelia back to 1967 before her visions are supposed to happen and all, but…”

“But…” Wesley interjected, encouraging the shy young woman to continue.

“But…I can’t guarantee when she’ll arrive. I mean, she might get there an hour before the visions…or a day…or a week…”

“Or a month or longer.” Wesley said, finishing her thoughts once again.

Nodding her head once more in agreement, Tara then said, “I wish I could do more, but time travel spells are dangerous and tricky enough as it is, and I don’t want to take any more risks than I have to.”

“You’re quite right.” Wesley said in a tone meant to be reassuring to the young Wicca without at the same time being patronizing.

Smiling at the English former Watcher, Tara said in a soft voice, “I’d better get ready, the spell’s a long and draining one, and I want to be at my best when it’s time…”

*****************************************

“So how do I look?” Cordelia smiled as she entered the retail area of the Magic Box after having changed into her period clothing.

“All I have to say, Cordy, is . . . WOW!” Xander exclaimed, only to yelp in pain as Anya poked her errant lover in the side.

“My God, Cordelia . . .” Wesley said in a soft voice as he took off his glasses to clean them.

Angel, upon seeing his Seer wearing a miniskirt with alternating gold and coral horizontal stripes that barely reached down to cover the upper half of her thighs, gold ball earrings, a red hat, and gold platform shoes, barely managed to avoid whistling. “Cordelia…the last time I saw someone dressed like that was…a long time ago.” Smiling softly, he said, “You look beautiful.”

Smiling shyly, Tara then directed, “If you would p-p-please stand over there, Cordelia.” The young Wicca then pointed towards where a circle had been painted, surrounded by runic symbols.

“What about money?” Cordelia, ever the practical one, asked as she pulled out a quarter dated 2000.

“Don’t worry. The spell will transmute your money and everything in your purse to period dates.” Tara smiled back reassuringly. “Just make sure you have enough with you.”

“Ok. Money taken care of.” Cordelia then mentally ticked that little item off her check list. “Now for the really big question—how am I supposed to get back?” The former May Queen, her face displaying her irritation at the fact that no one else had bothered to mention this little point, asked pointedly.

“You’ll be anchored in the past until you either stop what you’re supposed to stop or you fail.” Tara answered, “Once either event happens, the spell will return you.”

“You have to find out who those people are and how they are planning to bring the Master back and stop them, and save Angel from whatever it is that happened to him before it’s too late.” Wesley instructed.

“I got it Wes.” Cordelia replied in a slightly huffy tone. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, “Ok Tara . . . let’s do it.”


Part 2 (of ?)

Opening her eyes, Cordelia found herself facing a clothes rack. Miniskirts, tops, skirts, and jackets of every color and material—including plastic and paper—filled the display. She found herself especially taken by one skirt, a Mary Quant design mini, made of alternating gold and silver scales that, when they caught the sunlight just so, seemed to reflect every color in the rainbow. Turning her head to the left, she found another display, this one of hats—red, lime green, yellow; hats with wide brims and hats with bows; and beneath the hats—red, gold, silver, white, black platform shoes and go-go boots. Then, she heard what sounded like a DJ’s voice, “And that was Nancy Sinatra’s hit, ‘These Boots are Made for Walking’. Continuing KDSL’s countdown of last year’s hits on this first Saturday of 1967 we have number 89 on the Billboard top 100, The Hollies’ ‘Bus Stop’!”
“January!” The lithe brunette groaned as the exuberant sounds of Graham Nash, Terry Hicks, and Alan Clarke’s voices filled the air,

Bus stop, wet day, she's there, I say
Please share my umbrella
Bus stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows
Under my umbrella


All that summer we enjoyed it
Wind and rain and shine
That umbrella, we employed it
By August, she was mine


Every morning I would see her waiting at the stop
Sometimes she'd shopped and she would show me what she bought
Other people stared as if we were both quite insane
Someday my name and hers are going to be the same


“I’m stuck here for five months! That means I’m gonna have to find a place to live, buy clothes, get a job, and try to keep my sanity while I’m waiting for May.” Opening the large white leather purse she carried, the young Seer took stock of her funds. “Well . . . I’ve got enough to last a week or two at a hotel. And as far as clothes go . . .” She then, with a precision borne of years of experience gained in shopping malls, examined the skirts and tops on display, mentally making a list of definite yeses, maybes, and definite no-no’s. “It could be worse . . . I guess . . .” She sighed, “I could have been stuck in the fifties and have to wear poodle skirts and bobby socks.”

As she listened to the music and lyrics while continuing her visual inspection, Cordelia, remembered back to a time that, while it seemed almost a lifetime ago, was really only four years in the past, while she was dating Xander. She chuckled as she recalled how she had caught Giles sitting in his office one day, when he thought no one was in the library, listening to this very song on his portable CD. As the song continued, she began to unconsciously sing along as she fingered the silver and gold mini. ‘Wonder what Angel and the rest of the gang would say if they saw me wearing this?’ She continued to sing softly, her thoughts lingering on the cursed vampire who had become her best friend and his little baby boy,

That's the way the whole thing started
Silly but it's true
Thinkin' of a sweet romance
Beginning in a queue


Came the sun the ice was melting
No more sheltering now
Nice to think that that umbrella
Led me to a vow


Every morning I would see her waiting at the stop
Sometimes she'd shopped and she would show me what she bought
Other people stared as if we were both quite insane
Someday my name and hers are going to be the same


Bus stop, wet day, she's there, I say
Please share my umbrella
Bus stop, bus goes, she stays, love grows
Under my umbrella


All that summer we enjoyed it
Wind and rain and shine
That umbrella, we employed it
By August, she was mine


“A sweet romance! Yeah, Right!” Cordelia snorted. “As if that’ll ever happen to me anytime in the near future—not with my job! I mean . . . it’s not as if I’m looking to get married or anything like that, but it’d be nice if some guy would . . .” Then, as she pulled the dress from the rack, she grunted as she felt someone’s elbow jostling her.

“Oh! Excuse me!” Turning quickly towards the source of the voice, Cordelia saw a slender woman a few inches shorter than her and about her age, with close cropped strawberry blonde hair and wearing a red A-line mini, without a belt, white boots that reached up to her calves; and her earrings, golden balls, about an inch in diameter, hanging from slender gold chains about two inches long. “I’m sorry . . .” The other woman said apologetically, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“That’s ok.” Cordelia smiled back at the other woman. “I was paying more attention to the dresses anyway.”

“Groovy dress.” The other woman ventured.

“Yeah.” Cordelia, remembering that ‘groovy’ was supposed to be a good thing, grinned back as she held the dress up to her and looked in the mirror. “Way too expensive, though.” Her lips then turned down into a frown as she saw the price tag.

“Bummer.”

“Tell me about it!” The time traveling Seer sighed dejectedly. Then, realizing that she hadn’t even introduced herself, the former Sunnydale resident chuckled. “I’m sorry, I’m Cordelia—Cordelia Chase.”

“Felicia Brennan, but everyone calls me Licia.” The other woman replied with a smile as she offered her hand.

“Well, I’m pleased to meet you Licia! And call me Cordy.” The Seer grinned as she put the dress back on the rack where she had found it.

Looking at her watch, Cordelia’s new friend grinned. “I can’t believe the time! It’s already noon! Tell ya what, if you’re not doing anything, you wanna join me for lunch?”

Feeling the growling in her stomach, Cordelia nodded her head enthusiastically. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go!”

************************************

As the train wheels clattered on the rails, a solitary figure crouched further into the darkness of a corner recess in between two large crates marked ‘Heavy Machinery’. “Please! STOP! I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry . . .” He sobbed as he woke up, his cool skin now sticky and clammy from his sweat. Drying his tears with the sleeve of the same black leather jacket that he had worn since 1956, the dark haired figure, hearing the squeaks made by a nearby rat, took a deep breath, and pouncing, caught the hapless creature in his hands. His face now reflecting his demon visage, he sunk his fangs into the rodent, draining its blood in an effort to, temporarily at least; sate his hunger before the train reached its next destination—Sunnydale.

***********************************

Exiting the store with her new friend, Cordelia paused for a moment to take in the oldies version of her home town. She shook her head as she saw a brand new 1967 Camaro, white with blue racing stripes, whiz past. As she saw the Sunnydale Theater still at the location she had always remembered it to be, she smiled with relief, then chuckled as she read the marquee, “Georgy Girl with Lynn Redgrave and James Mason.”

“Yeah.” Felicia said, picking up on Cordelia’s words. “Sounds like it oughta be a gas.”

“Yeah.” Cordelia, playing it safe, agreed. “A real gas.”

The Espresso Pump was not there, of course. Instead, there was an ice cream parlor where teenage boys wearing everything from the familiar maroon and gold Sunnydale High letterman jackets to Nehru jackets to ordinary jeans and shirts sat talking to teenage girls, some wearing conservative knee length dresses, others mini-skirts that came in every color of the rainbow, while still others wore jeans with sweaters that wouldn’t really be out of place in 1997 Sunnydale. “That’s where the high school kids hang out.” Felicia volunteered as they passed a car with two teenage boys in it that looked awfully familiar to the time traveler.

As Cordelia looked closer at the 1950s era Chevy convertible, she immediately recognized it from when she saw Xander with it that time he had tried to impress her with his coolness. One of the men, whom the Seer immediately recognized as being a younger version of Xander’s father, yelled out to her and her new friend, “Shake it don’t break it, babes!”

“Hop on in, chicks!” The other one, whom the former May Queen figured out, had to be her old boyfriend’s Uncle Rory, shouted. “We can truck on over to the park and watch the submarine races!”

“With you two squares? No thanks.” Felicia snorted as Cordelia fixed the two boys with her best Queen C stare.

“Not if you were the only two guys left on earth and all the batteries in the world had vanished!” The ex-bitch queen of Sunnydale High smirked as her new friend giggled.

The two women, triumphant in their battle of wits against their unarmed opponents, then walked away with their heads high, ignoring the elder Harris’s shouted “Soshes” and Rory’s taunting, “Skags!”

“The Harris boys.” Felicia spat out as her and Cordelia entered the Pizza Heaven restaurant, a place that had long closed before the time traveling seer was even born.

“Pfft.” Cordelia snorted, and then said in a low voice, “And to think, that twit’s gonna be Xander’s father. Xander deserves way better than that loser!”

“Huh?” Licia asked as the two women made their way to an empty booth, “I didn’t catch that, Cordy.”

“Oh . . .” Cordelia, realizing her mistake, stammered momentarily before regaining her poise, “I was just saying that those two boys look like a pair of real losers.”

“Yeah. A pair of freaks.” Felicia agreed as a waitress came to take their order. “So . . . you new in town or what?”

“Yeah.” Cordy lied. “I just got in . . . but . . .” Her face then turned red with embarrassment, “The airline kinda lost all my baggage.”

“Bad scene.” Licia said as she sipped her water. “You got a place to crash ‘til you get your stuff together?”

“I was planning on checking into a motel . . .I got enough money to last me until I can get a job and afford to move into a rooming house or something like that.” The time traveling seer responded.

“Well . . . I normally don’t do this . . . but you seem like a pretty far out person so . . . if you want, you’re more than welcome to crash at my pad as long as you like.”

Cordelia, realizing that the other woman was offering a place for her to stay, smiled warmly at her generous offer, “Thanks, but I really don’t wanna crowd you.”

“No. You’re not crowding me out or anything like that.” Felicia replied with a wide grin. “I’ve been looking for a roomie since my last one split from town last month.” The strawberry blonde then lowered her voice so that only Cordelia could hear, “She kinda freaked out . . . came in one night screaming about how these monsters wanted to suck out all her blood . . .” The young woman then shivered slightly as Cordelia listened sympathetically. “I think she was just on a bad trip, you know . . . she was really into tabs.” She then gave her new friend a questioning look, “You’re not into acid or any of that stuff, are you?”

“No!” Cordelia shook her head vehemently. “No acid or anything like that!”

“Cool.” Felicia, hearing her brunette friend’s answer, sighed in relief. “I mean, if that’s your scene I can dig it and all . . . I’m not telling you what to do . . . I’m not the man, you know. But like, I don’t wanna have to go through a bad scene like that again! Once was enough!” Then, licking her lips as the pizza came, she continued, “Anyway, it’s a two bedroom pad, the rent and utilities are pretty cheap. I’ve only got a black and white TV though; color’s just too much bread. So . . . we roomies?”

“Yeah, sure . . .” Cordy grinned broadly as she realized that one of her problems, at least, was taken care of. Now, all she had to do was build a wardrobe, find a job, and wait for Angel and the bad guys to show—no problem!

“Cool!” Felicia face turned up into a wide smile. “Tell you what, we get done here, we’ll cruise on to my pad and get you situated, then we’ll hit the clothes shop again, and then I’ll give you the grand tour and later on tonight, if you want, we can cruise on to the Bronze and check out the scene.”

“Sounds good.” Cordelia, curious as to what the Bronze was like at this time, smiled back as she bit into her pizza.

************************************

Far beneath the ground, below where Sunnydale High’s new library stood, a figure hidden in the shadows bowed down before the murky, foul smelling pool. “Soon, Master. The Order of Merovinus will be here soon, and you shall arise again—and we shall ascend to our rightful place at your side and we shall feast upon the humans above.”


Part 3 (of ?)

“Ok, Licia, should I wear this dress?” Cordelia smiled broadly as she held up a red tiered mini with matching red pantyhose, “Or this one?” After putting down her first choice, she then held up a silver miniskirt with turquoise top.

“The second one, definitely! And don’t forget the silver thigh high boots and hat.” Felicia grinned back as she held up her choice for the evening, a lavender mini with matching vest and long sleeve multi-colored print shirt. “What do you think about this one?”

“With the beret and boots, you’re gonna look really groovy!” Cordelia, reverting to years as the fashion queen of Sunnydale High, smiled, approving of her roommate’s choice.

“Outta sight!” Felicia grinned back. “Well, I better go and get changed—catch ya in a few!” Before closing her door, the strawberry blonde called back, “How’s about some tunes?”

“Sounds good!” Cordelia agreed. “Anything you wanna hear?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Felicia’s cheerful voice answered back. “You pick.”

“’Kay” Cordy chuckled as she looked through her roommate’s album collection. “If you could only see this, Giles . . .” The time traveling seer said in a gentle voice as she thumbed through lps and singles by The Animals, Byrds, Beatles, Rolling Stones, Yardbirds, Tom Jones, and a host of others. “Ok . . .” Cordelia said softly as she made her choice, “Beatles should be safe.” Looking at the old fashioned phonograph, Cordelia cringed. “I can do this now . . .” Taking a deep breath, she took the album out of its jacket and placed it on the turntable. “Ok . . . let’s see . . . I remember watching Licia do this . . . turn the phonograph on . . .” Flipping the switch, the young brunette grinned as the album began to spin. “Now comes the hard part . . . pick up the needle and drop it on the edge, and easy now . . . easy . . .” As the needle dropped gently on the edge, Cordy flashed a triumphant grin. “I did it!” She beamed as ‘Hard Day’s Night’ began to play.

“Cool choice, Cordy!” Felicia called back from her room. “Just the song to get me groovin’”

“Far out!” Cordelia answered back, grinning at how easily she was picking up on 60s slang. “I’m gonna get changed myself. I’ll seeya in a few.”

***********************************
As the train’s wheels squealed to a stop, Angel, standing up, lurched forward as the locomotive came to a final rest. Zipping up his jacket, the ensouled vampire, after first checking to make sure that it was dark and that no one was waiting outside the car, cracked the side door open and then slipped out unnoticed and into the shadows that had, for over two hundred years, served as his natural home.

**********************************

As they approached the Bronze, Cordelia shook her head in amazement at how it was both the same, yet different from the teen hangout that she had frequented in her Sunnydale days. The couples kissing on the outside, the bouncer at the door taking the cover charge, and the sounds of laughter and music all reminded her of happier times, before Buffy and the Master, when she and almost everyone else had lived in ignorance of the evil that lay beneath the small town exterior of the city built on a Hellmouth.

“Licia, baby!” The man approaching with his long dark hair styled in a Regency wave and wearing dark purple velvet Regency coat, white pants, and silk shirt with frilled lace cravat quickly reminded the seer that while she might be in Sunnydale, she really wasn’t home. “Who’s your new friend?” He asked, giving Cordelia a broad smile as he checked her out.

‘Hmmm...not bad…’ Cordelia thought to herself as she returned the stranger’s inspection with one of her own. ‘I better not get any ideas though, no matter how…anxious…I am right now. Just my luck, he’ll end up being my junior English teacher.’

“Donny!” Felicia grinned as she kissed the attractive young man on the cheek, “This is Cordy, my new roomie.” Turning to the lovely brunette standing next to her, the lovely strawberry blonde continued her introductions, “Cordy, this is Donny.”

“Oh . . .Hi, Donny.” Cordelia replied with a start, her face reddening as she realized that she had been caught giving the young man the eye, managed a smile as she held out her hand.

“Groovy.” Donny flashed a wicked grin as he bent down to kiss the time traveling seer’s hand. Then, moving in between the two ladies, and slipping an arm around each of their waists, he chuckled, “You babes wanna go in now? Everyone else is already here and the scene’s happening, man.”

As the trio walked into the nightclub laughing and joking with each other, one of them, a certain time traveling champion, began to make plans. There was much to do—she needed to find someone who could muster the resources that she needed in order to identify who would be the most likely suspects to awaken the master, but first, she needed to find Angel as soon as possible.

****************************************

Ironically, the ensouled vampire who Cordelia sought had already found her. He stood watching, hugging the shadows, looking longingly at the three youths standing, talking, and laughing together. As the man dressed as a dandy slipped in between the two women, his heart sank as he remembered that he had once done the same in his youth some two hundred years earlier…before he had met Darla…before he became a creature of darkness. Pressing himself further against the wall as they drew closer to the corner behind which he skulked, Angel gritted his teeth as his loneliness threatened to consume him. The tormented vampire then caught their scents…the warm blood coursing through their bodies tempting the demon within him as the soul that the gypsies had returned to him called forth images of the many whose lives he had cut short—of whole families tortured…of his own family, dead by his hand.

But, as the lithe brunette wearing the silver skirt passed him, he caught a different scent—a whiff of something not human…of something demonic. Curious, he decided to stay and watch.

***************************************
Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city


All around, people looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head


As she entered the Bronze with her new friends, the music from the Lovin’ Spoonful filled the ears of the young seer. Smiling broadly as she recognized the song, she gasped in amazement at how her old nightclub had changed. Wrinkling her nose, the first thing she noticed was the sharp, acrid smell of cigarette smoke. ‘I’ll never get the smell out!’ She thought in disgust. ‘Ok, one bad thing about the sixties—no Clean Air Act!’

At least the dance floor was still there, as was the stage, and so were four go-go cages with dancers wearing fringed bikini tops and bottoms and miniskirts, their bodies gaily painted with all the colors of the rainbow, and the people—lots of people—dancing and laughing together.

But at night it's a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat it'll be alright


Seeing Donny motion towards where the people were dancing and Licia enthusiastically nodding her head, Cordelia, with a slight smile and shrug of her shoulders, allowed her handsome escort to lead her to the dance floor. Once on the floor, surrounded by young men and women her age all dressed as wildly as she, the time traveling seer permitted herself a brief moment’s escape as she allowed the music to control her body.

And babe, don't you know it's a pity
That the days can't be like the nights
In the summer, in the city
In the summer, in the city


Cool town, evening in the city
Dressing so fine and looking so pretty
Cool cat, looking for a kitty
Gonna look in every corner of the city
Till I'm wheezing like a bus stop
Running up the stairs, gonna meet you on the rooftop


But at night it's a different world
Go out and find a girl
Come-on come-on and dance all night
Despite the heat it'll be alright


And babe, don't you know it's a pity
That the days can't be like the nights
In the summer, in the city
In the summer, in the city


“Thanks, Donny!” Cordelia, laughing merrily, kissed her escort on the cheek as the couple made their way to a table where Felicia and another couple were already seated.

“You two look like you were really groovin’.” Felicia smirked as she sipped her drink.

“Yeah, both of you were like, outta sight.” The man sitting next to Felicia, sporting a Beatles style mop top and wearing a white Nehru jacket with a large, silver dollar sized gold medallion hanging from a gold chain, said as he adjusted his Ben Franklin specs.

“Cordy…this is Lenny…” Felicia smiled as she introduced her new roommate to her friends, “And this…” She then motioned to an African-American woman, her hair styled straight and wearing a paisley halter top and hip hugger jeans, “Is Edie.”

“Hi.” The time traveling seer smiled as she took her seat next to Donny.

“Peace, baby.” Lenny said with a slight smile.

“Hey.” Edie then said with a nervous grin.

Seeing the questioning look on her roommate’s face, Felicia explained in a low voice. “Lenny and Edie are dating—they got hassled by the Harris brothers cause they’re…you know. Donny and a couple of other guys came along and pulled ‘em out.”

“Yeah, it was a real bummer.” Donny said, shaking his head. “I mean…I can’t understand how some cats can get their kicks doin’ stuff like that.”

“I know what you mean.” Cordelia nodded her head sympathetically. Then, feeling the urge to dance coming upon her once again as she saw Edie and Lenny make their way to the dance floor, she grabbed Donny’s hand as the notes of “Good Lovin’” from the Young Rascals filled the nightclub. “Come on, Donny…I wanna dance!” Once on the floor, she let the music once again take over her body, her short hair flying wildly as she gyrated her hips, Cordelia laughed gaily as it struck her that, for the first time in a long time, she was genuinely having fun. Then the vision hit her…a young teenager, two vampires eyeing him hungrily, a back alley next to the Bronze. Stopping quickly, she put hand to head.

“You ok, babe?” Donny, concern dripping from his voice, asked. “You look kinda pale…did you do some bad acid or something?”

“No…I’m ok…” Cordelia answered back, managing a weak smile. “I just need to get a little air.”

“Ok…I’ll come with you.” The handsome youth replied with a smile.

“That’s ok…” Cordelia grinned back. “You can’t go where I gotta go…” She then motioned with her eyes towards the ladies room. “Well…you could…” She chuckled, “But I don’t think the other girls’ll like it.”

“Cool, I’ll let Licia know.” The young man laughed as he kissed the lovely time traveler on her cheek.

“Thanks.” Cordy smiled as she quickly made her way first to the ladies room, and then to the back exit where she slipped out into the night. Looking around, she spotted a piece of jagged wood. “Perfect.” She smiled as she strode confidently towards the alley in her vision.

Reaching the alley, she could still hear the music coming from the Bronze, now Nancy Sinatra singing “These Boots Were Made For Walking.” Gathering up her courage, her eyes now fully adapted to the dark, she entered the dark passage. Once inside, she saw what she expected to see—two vampires with their game faces on, both men, one wearing a leather jacket, the other, a Sunnydale letterman’s jacket, growling as they looked down upon a slender teenage boy wearing a white dress shirt and black slacks. “What…you boys lost your way to the Demon Discount Hut or something?” She quipped in what she thought was a pretty good imitation of Buffy’s punning style.

You keep saying you got something for me
Something you call love but confess
You've been a'messin' where you shouldn't 've been a'messin'
And now someone else is getting all your best
Well, these boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you


“Go away, half-breed.” The vamp in the leather jacket sneered. “We’re just about to eat us some dinner and demons ain’t invited.”

“Yeah.” Letterman quipped. “Who do you think you are, the Slayer?”

“Nah…I’ve got way more fashion sense than her!” Cordelia grinned. Then, remembering what Angel had taught her, she threw her stake at Letterman vamp. The vampire, taken by surprise by her sudden move, remained frozen in place as the jagged wood penetrated his heart.

You keep lyin' when you oughta be truthin'
You keep losing when you oughta not bet
You keep samin' when you oughta be a'changin'
What's right is right but you ain't been right yet
These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you


Seeing his partner disappear into a pile of ash, the other vampire growled his rage as he rushed the time traveling seer, yelling, “Your blood’s too rotten to drink, but I bet your neck snaps pretty.”

Dodging his attack, Cordelia countered with another move that Angel had taught her. Striking with a snap kick, she hit her opponent in the small of his back, buying her enough time to put herself between him and the boy. Then, grabbing the stake that she had concealed in her thigh high boot, she flashed as confident a grin as she could muster through her fear.

Moving quickly, the vampire connected with a punch to Cordy’s stomach, knocking her to the ground. “Should’ve left, baby.” He smirked triumphantly as he bared his fangs and leaped upon his supposedly helpless victim.

“And you should’ve stuck with rats.” Cordelia smirked in return as she drove her stake into the vampire’s heart.

You keep playing where you shouldn't be playing
And you keep thinking that you'll never get burnt (HAH)
Well, I've just found me a brand new box of matches (YEAH)
And what he knows you ain't had time to learn
These boots are made for walking, and that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you


Scrambling to her feet, the triumphant seer looked about, searching for the teenage boy. Finding him hiding behind some garbage cans, she smiled encouragingly, “It’s ok, you can come out now.”

“Thanks.” He replied in a nervous voice as he carefully emerged from his hiding place.

“What’s your name?” Cordelia asked, trying to put the youth at ease.

“Ira, Ma’am.” He answered back politely, “Ira Rosenberg. I was on my way back home when those people…I guess they were potheads or something…attacked me.”

“Well…” Cordelia chuckled softly as she saw that Sunnydale Amnesia Syndrome was once again manifesting itself. “You know it’s dangerous to be out walking alone at night. Why don’t you come with me…my friends and I’ll get you home safe.”

It was only as the two were walking back to the Bronze that it finally dawned on the young seer whom she had just rescued—Willow’s father. Smiling triumphantly as she strode down the street, she then joined Nancy Sinatra in the final words of her song,

Are you ready, boots?
Start walkin'


*********************************************

There was one other who had also watched Cordelia’s battle with the vampires. Once he had recognized what the young woman was about to do, the cursed vampire wasn’t sure what to do—a part of him wanted to immediately come to her aid, but the other part, the cautious mistrustful part, forced him to stand back, to not get involved, to let her pay the consequences for her rash action. Then, watching her fight, his face registered surprise as he recognized her using combat moves that were his and his alone. Now, both curious and intrigued, Angel, keeping to the cover of the shadows as much as possible, followed this strange and exotic woman towards the bright lights.


Part 4

“Rent’s twenty dollars a week—in advance.” The grey haired lady said in a raspy voice as she turned the key to the lock and opened the door. “Ain’t much to look at, but it’s furnished. There’s a bed, you got your bathroom, and there’s a kitchen with an icebox…” She then waved her hand towards a cast iron frame bed with sagging mattress, a tiny room revealing a sink with medicine cabinet visible from the open door, and a kitchenette with small gas stove, tiny card table that served as a dinner table, a pair of straight backed wooden chairs, and a refrigerator that looked like it was new in 1950.

“It looks fine, Ma’am.” Angel said as he fished out four twenties, a month’s rent in advance, from his jeans pocket.

Frowning as she slipped the money into a pocket of her light blue housecoat, the matronly landlady further instructed, “Now, I don’t want any wild parties here, or any of that loud rock and roll, no wild women, and no hippies or drugs—you understand me, young man.”

“Don’t worry, there won’t be any of that.” The ensouled vampire assured as he smiled inwardly at how the woman referred to him as ‘young man.’

With a snort of disbelief, the landlady handed Angel the keys to his new apartment. “Just make sure there ain’t.”

After the landlady had left him alone, the cursed vampire, stripping off his jacket, flopped on to the lumpy mattress. As his eyes closed, his last thoughts before drifting off into sleep were of the strange and lovely short haired half-demon woman—who was she? Why was she here? And, most importantly, what did she want?

***********************************************

“Welcome, Acolytes of the Order of Merovinus!” The large, burly vampire known only as Luke said in a low, rumbling voice as six hooded figures wearing grey robes approached.

The lead acolyte, wearing a silver medallion of an upside down pyramid with an eye inside stepped forward. As he pulled back his hood to reveal his head, the vampiric nature of the shaven headed acolyte revealed itself to all. “We have much to do to prepare for the arrival of our Grandmaster.” Then, after carefully scrutinizing both Luke and the other child of the Master, Darla, he demanded, “Where is the other—the unclean one? His presence is vital if the ritual is to succeed.”

“Angelus.” Luke answered, his scorn for the missing child of the Master noticeable in his voice. “Do not worry. He will be here when the time comes.”

*****************************************
Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Cordelia took in the sight before her—Sunnydale High, 1967. Shaking her head, she chuckled as she saw how little, on the outside at least; it had changed in thirty years. ‘Except for us blowing it up after the mayor had turned into a giant snake.’ Her soft chuckle then turned into a gentle smile as she strode on to the campus, her barely within dress code, but fashionable, paisley print mini and blonde highlighted chin length brunette hair drawing more than their fair share of attention from both male students and faculty as she passed them by.

The former, or rather, future, Queen of Sunnydale High, smiled smugly as she noticed the boys and men ogling her. ‘Doesn’t matter what decade I’m in…’ The seer grinned with self satisfaction, ‘I’ve got it.’

While walking down the corridors, Cordelia was struck once again at how familiar, and yet strange, everything was. The class rooms were all in their usual places, and the lockers where students gathered to put away and take out books and socialize between classes still lined the large central hallway. The former May Queen chuckled as she saw how all the usual cliques were still there. She quickly spotted the jocks wearing their letterman sweaters and jackets, most of them with close cropped crew-cuts, swapping dirty jokes with each other, and as she passed them by, she allowed a slight smile to cross her features as she made out some of their whispered comments about the new assistant librarian.

Then, as she walked towards her new job in the library, Cordy quickly spotted the 1967 counterpart, to Harmony—and, she had to admit, to her as well—a blonde girl, wearing a stylish green mini and sunglasses, holding court, surrounded by her ladies in waiting, gossiping amongst themselves.

“Rodney just asked me out to the Sweetheart’s Dance.” Miss Popular said smugly as her court gushed. “And he’s taking me to Renee’s for dinner…so I told Mom that I just had to have that Mary Quant dress that’s in the Mod Shoppe. . .”

“You mean that groovy silver and gold one?” A brunette that reminded Cordelia of Aura asked.

“Yeah.” The Queen said, “But when I got there, I found out that someone else had already bought it!”

“Bummer.” Another girl chimed in sympathetically.

“Yeah, what a drag.” The Aura type added.

Cordelia smiled smugly as she heard the conversation, deciding right then and there which dress she would wear to that same dance that she had gotten roped into chaperoning when the principal had hired her. The seer then frowned as she saw the predatory gleam on Miss Popularity’s face upon seeing a shy young girl with mousey brown hair and wearing a plain looking dress standing next to a locker. Remembering her treatment of Marcie and Willow, Cordelia knew immediately what the Queen and her court was about to do to the hapless young student.

Acting quickly, before the feeding frenzy could commence, she interposed herself between the clique and its helpless prey. “Excuse me. . .” She said, smiling down at the young woman. “I’m kinda new here and I was wondering if you could help me find my way to the library?”

“Sure.” The soft-spoken young teenager, grasping gratefully at the lifeline offered her by the stranger standing before her, smiled shyly.

“Cool.” Cordy grinned back as she decided then and there to take the bookish young girl under her wing. “So, what’s your name?”

“Jenny. . .Jenny Brookes.” The girl said hesitatingly as the approached the library.

“Well, Jenny.” Cordelia said with a smile as they reached the library doors, “I’m Cordy. Thanks—if you ever need anything, just give a shout, ok?”

“Ok. . .Cordy.” They young girl said bashfully as she looked up at her new friend.

Then, giving the young lady a quick once-over, the fashion expert in Cordelia came out. “You know, Jenny. . .if you’d wear your belt like this. . .and take those sunglasses and wear them like so. . .you know, kinda push them up on your hair, like you’ve seen on the movies and in the magazines. . .you get Cosmo and Vogue, don’t you?”

“Ummm. . .” The young girl stammered, “My mom and dad won’t let me read them. . .they say they’re. . .uhhh. . .unladylike. . .”

“Pfft!” Cordy waved her hand dismissively. “I’ll bring you mine tomorrow and you can look at ‘em in the library during your free period.”

“Thanks!” Jenny smiled, and then, curious as to why the new teacher was taking such an interest in her, asked, “Ummm. . .if you don’t mind me asking, Ma’am. . .why?”

“Why what?” Cordy replied with a broad grin on her face.

“Why are you doing this? I mean. . .we’ve just met and all. . .” Jenny inquired tilting her head slightly to the left.

Jerking her head just slightly towards the popular clique, Cordy flashed a sad smile. “I knew someone when I went to school just like you and someone like her too. . .”

“I see—I guess.” Jenny smiled back. “Thanks again, Miss Chase. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

”Groovy.” Cordelia grinned back. “Well, I better let you go on to class. . .I’ll catch you later.”

As she opened the door to the library, the librarian, a dignified, matronly figure wearing wire rim glasses that complemented her conservative pale blue dress looked up. “You must be the new library assistant.” She said as she carefully scrutinized the younger woman, clucking her tongue disapprovingly at her short skirt and bobbed hair. “You young people today...” She sighed, “In my day, if someone had worn a dress that short, everyone would have thought she was a tramp. . .but now, all of you are doing it.”

Cordelia, realizing that she needed this job, and not just for the money, bit her tongue and held her peace while the older woman ranted about how the younger generation with their protests and wild ways were opening the door for the evil communist Russians and Chinese to come in and take over the country. Upon finishing her rant, the older woman sighed, “I bet you haven’t paid attention to a single word I’ve said—you young people never listen—it just goes in one ear and out the other.” Then, pointing to a stack of books sitting on the middle table, she instructed, “You can begin by shelving those books over there, Miss Chase, and after you’ve finished that, I’ll instruct you in what you’re supposed to do at the Circulation Desk. And don’t forget—year book pictures are this afternoon.”

“Yes, Mrs. Snyder.” The time traveling seer said through clenched teeth as she began her first day of work.

**********************************************

“The books you asked for should reach you by the end of next week, Miss Chase.” The cheerful voice at the other end of the phone said.

“Thank you.” Cordelia said politely as she inwardly cursed the fact that the internet wouldn’t be invented for another twenty years or so. ‘It’s taking me a week to get something I could have gotten online in two minutes.’ She snarled inwardly and then rolled her eyes in exasperation as she saw Tony Harris walk in, his t-shirt hanging loose and his leather jacket slung over a shoulder.

“Hey, babe.” He smirked as he checked out the form of the older woman. “Why ain’t you hanging with your mod friends?”

“What do you want, Harris?” The young brunette sneered, and then reverting momentarily to Queen C mode, quipped, “Aren’t you a little old to be in high school? What, did you fail a grade or two?”

“Don’t have a cow, chick.” The Harris boy smirked, not showing any reaction at Cordelia’s cutting, and accurate, remark. “Gotta book report to do…where’s the cars section?”

“Third stack to the left, young man.” The reedy voice of Mrs. Snyder interjected. “And from now on, when you talk to my assistant, you’ll refer to her as Miss Chase.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Daniel answered back with sulky bravado, muttering under his breath as he made his way to the stacks, ‘Stuck up old bitty and her skag…’

Attempting to be nice to the older lady, Cordelia flashed a slight smile, “Thank you, Mrs. Snyder.”

“Don’t thank me, young lady.” The older woman all but sneered. “If you young women didn’t dress like trollops, this wouldn’t happen.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Cordelia said under her breath as she returned to her work.

**********************************************
Opening the door to her apartment, Cordelia sighed audibly as she dropped her purse and packages on an end table.

“Hey, Cordy!” Felicia, sitting on the sofa and watching television, called out as she heard the door open. “Bad day?”

“Yeah. . .a real bummer.” Cordy answered back as she made her way into the kitchen.

“Must have been, working late like that.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t get away for lunch, so I stopped off at the Doublemeat Palace. . .”

“Eeewwww. . .” Felicia made a face at her roommate’s mentioning of the fast food restaurant.

“Tell me about it!” Cordelia wrinkled her nose in disgust. “When I found out from Willow that Buffy was working there I almost totally freaked out”

“You know someone working there?” Felicia asked, surprised.

“Not at this one.” Cordelia, realizing that she had slipped up, quickly explained. “Buffy’s someone I knew from high school back in LA. . .her mother died recently and she’s got a teenage sister and her father’s never there, so she needed a job like, yesterday.”

“Bad scene.” The strawberry blonde commiserated. “I know I’d never work there unless I absolutely had to.”

“Tell me about it.” Cordelia chuckled wryly as she opened a pastry shelf. “You in the mood for some popcorn, Licia—we’ve still got plenty of Jiffy Pop.”

“Sounds good to me.” The other woman said with a smile. “Hurry up though, Secret Storm’s about to come on.”

“Ok.” Cordelia said, amused as she went into the kitchen to fix their snack.

As the two women settled down to watch their soap opera, they both groaned as, instead of the crashing of waves and theme music that would normally mark the beginning of the show, there was the white lettering on black background reading, ‘CBS NEWS BULLETIN’, and then the somber face of Walter Cronkite, the most trusted man in America, looking into the camera. “At 6:31 Eastern Standard Time, the crew of Apollo 1—Virgil I. ‘Gus’ Grissom, commander ; Edward White, lunar module pilot; and Roger Chaffee, command module pilot; were killed when their Apollo 1 command module caught fire during a routine plugs out test. As more details are released, we will keep you informed.” Trying bravely to hold back his tears, the venerable newsman said, “They’re all gone now.”

Cordelia and Felicia both listened to the news, dumbstruck, for several minutes not able to react. Then, tears rolling down her cheeks, the strawberry blonde turned towards her roommate and hugged her. Cordy, somewhat surprised to find that she was crying as well for men that, before now, lived only as pictures in a textbook to her, returned her friend’s embrace as both women remained on that couch hugging each other for dear life, crying rivers of tears for three men they never even knew.

As Angel heard the news on the radio, he looked up at the ceiling of his little apartment and sighed mournfully. 210 years of life and unlife, and what did he have to show for it? Liam was a wastrel—taking only, never giving. Lives cut short, bereaved families, widows, widowers, and orphans, death and destruction were the legacy that Angelus had left in his wake. And as for Angel—all he had to show for himself was over sixty years of wandering the earth suffering in lonely penance for what he had done as Liam and as Angelus. But these three men—mere mortals—had sacrificed themselves on the most glorious funeral pyre he could imagine. In their short lives, those heroes had left their mark on the world in a very real way—how could someone—some. . .thing. . .such as he even think of looking men such as those in the eye.

Later, as the sun set, Cordelia, feeling her roommate’s gentle breathing, realized that she had fallen asleep. Gently breaking from their embrace, the time traveling seer laid her friend out on the couch, and, fetching a blanket, covered her with it. “I think I could go for a walk right now.” She said to herself in a soft voice as she left a note for Felicia, and then, after slipping a stake into her boot and grabbing an umbrella to protect herself against the falling rain, slipped out of the apartment into the night.

Angel, recognizing that he needed to replenish his blood supply and wanting to search for that strange woman who was rapidly becoming an obsession to him had also slipped out of his apartment. Returning from the butchers’ shop with a couple of bags of fresh pig’s blood, the cursed vampire looked up as he caught her scent. The rain dropping down, the cursed vampire impulsively decided that it was time to find out who and what this stranger was. Hiding in a side alley, he waited patiently as she approached, then, once she had come close to where he hid, he stepped out in front of her.

As soon as she saw the strange figure clad in jeans and leather jacket who blocked her path, the cautious seer reached towards her boot. Recognizing what she was doing, the tormented vampire shook his head and raised his hands, showing that he meant her no harm. Then, as the streetlights revealed his face, the time traveling seer gasped in both surprise and relief, “Angel!”

The tormented vampire, shocked and surprised by her use of his name, asked in a low, yet demanding tone, “Who are you?”


Part 5

“Who are you?” Angel asked through clenched teeth, “And how do you know my name?”

“Look, Angel…” Cordelia said as she shivered from the cold rain. “I’ll tell you everything you wanna know—but first, you think we can get outta the rain?” She then flashed a nervous smile as she looked up into his pale face. “I mean, this skirt’s awful short and it’s getting cold…”

“My place is near…we’ll go there.” The souled vampire ordered, not even bothering to hide his command as a request.

“Pfft. Fine.” Cordelia said as she followed behind the 1960s version of her best friend. “But if you think you’re gonna continue getting away with talking to me like that—you gotta another think coming—got it, buster!”

“Yeah…sure.” Angel, not sure what to think of this strange human-demon hybrid woman, acknowledged, as a rare and unaccustomed smile threatened to cross his features.

“You better, Deadboy.” Cordelia snorted. “I’ll kick your undead ass until it’s 2002—and don’t think I can’t either.”

Glancing back, Angel, seeing the determined look in her eyes and her sure and confident stride as her white boots hit the pavement, chuckled. “You know…I believe you would.”

“Damned straight, I would.” Cordelia snapped back with a smirk as they reached the door of the ensouled vampire’s apartment building.

*****************************************

“Hmmm…Angelus has a new girlfriend.” Darla, clad in a tangerine A-line mini, said with a sly grin as she observed the couple go into the hovel that the former scourge of Europe now called home. “I have to say…his tastes haven’t changed much in two hundred years—he still likes ‘em young and pretty.” She smirked as she heard the sucking sound behind her. “Make sure you save some for me, baby.” The child of the Master said in a silky voice as her face transformed into her demon visage.

“Plenty left…” The other vampire growled as he tossed one of the pair’s victims for this evening, a young bearded man wearing bell-bottom jeans and a tie-dyed t-shirt with love beads to his partner as if the youth was nothing but a rag doll.

As the elder vampire looked into the fearful eyes of the young man, her lips turned up into a cruel smile as she smelled the fear in her victim. “I do so love a fresh kill.” She said in a silky voice as she sunk her fangs deep into her hapless prey, drinking deeply of his blood. Then, draining him dry, she tossed him aside as one would a scrap of paper.

“This one tastes funny.” The other vampire said as his victim, a teenage girl with long, silky dirty blonde hair, wearing a psychedelic pattern maxi, slumped down to the pavement.

“You know you have to be careful who you eat these days.” Darla admonished. “Remember what happened to Cletus after he ate that hippie tripping on Orange Sunshine.”

“Yeah…it’s getting to where you can’t eat someone in peace without worrying about whether you’re gonna go on a bad trip and run out in the sun or something.”

Taking one last look at the apartment, Angelus’ sire instructed, “We’d better get back before Luke gets upset. I’m sure he’ll want to hear about Angelus’ new pet.”

*****************************************

The moment Angel opened the door to his apartment; Cordelia shook her head in disgust as she looked into the squalid living space. “You know something, Angel? You really do suck rocks as an interior decorator!”

“Yeah…well…” The tormented vampire all but sneered, “I’ve had other things on my mind.”

“Yeah… I know.” Cordelia replied airily as she breezed picked up Angel’s packages and breezed through the tiny efficiency to the kitchenette. “You’ve been spending the past…what…sixty years? Moping around saying ‘Oh woe is me…I’m a baaaaaaaaaad boy…’ instead of getting off your broody butt and doing something about it!” Reaching the kitchen counter, she placed the paper grocery bags down and took out a jar containing pig’s blood and a saucepan. Pouring the blood into the saucepan, she then turned on the gas and lit one of the burners on the stove into life. “Sit down and I’ll fix your blood and then we’ll talk.”

Shaking his head in disbelief at how easily this woman, whom he doesn’t even know, had just come in and taken over his apartment, the ensouled vampire growled, “You have no idea who I am or what I’ve done…”

“Let’s see…you used to be Angelus, the Scourge of Europe…got sired by that bottle blonde bitch Darla…what is your hangup with blondes anyway?” She asked in a somewhat disgusted tone, brushing away one of her blonde highlighted tresses as she poured the now warm blood into a coffee cup. “Ok, back to ‘This is your unlife’, Angel…you kill your family…sire Drusilla…not one of your brighter moves by the way—you know that woman is a certifiable nutjob…of course you know, you made her that way…yadda, yadda, yadda…she sires Spike…who, the last I heard has been sorta kinda castrated thanks to Uncle Sam…well, not now, but he will be…anyway, he’s Buffy’s problem…blah, blah, blah…you kill a gypsy princess and her clan curses you with a soul…how am I doing so far?” She finished breathlessly as she sat down, handing the cup full of blood to the vampire sitting across from her. “Get some cinnamon next time you go to the store—it goes pretty good with the blood—but stay away from the nutmeg, ok—I don’t need you tripping out on me now—we got some important stuff to do.”

Barely concealing his astonishment at how much this stranger knew about him and his past, the brooding vampire asked, his voice edged with growing tension and frustration, “How do you know so much about me—you’re not human…not completely…and you’re not a vampire…so who and what are you?”

“Long story.” Cordelia answered with an amused smile as she saw him take at first a tentative sip, then, a heartier draught from his cup. “Sorry, but I had to kinda guess at how warm to make it—if you had a microwave, I’d have just nuked it for about a minute or so…”

“Microwave…nuke it?” Angel asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

Realizing that she’d slipped once again, Cordelia chuckled. “Forget about it.” Then, getting serious, she then returned to her future partner’s original question. “Ok, short version—I’m a Seer…the Powers send me these really bad visions at really bad times, and they sent me a really ugly one where some vamp cult’s gonna try to raise the Master and open the Hellmouth and…” To Angel’s surprise, the sure and confident voice that had been talking to him cracked momentarily, “I saw you lying on the floor here in a lot of pain after drinking some blood—I think someone poisoned it.”

Shaking his head, the tormented vampire sarcastically quipped, “Lady, I don’t know if you’re just a little crazy…or a lot…The Master disappeared years ago, and as far as someone poisoning me…” He then laughed bitterly, “They’d be doing me a favor!”

Angel then stopped short his rant as a glazed look overcame the woman sitting across from him. “What is it?” He asked in a moment of genuine concern as the stranger sat quietly.

Coming out of her trance, Cordelia then said in a soft, shaky voice, “Vision. A demon in Waverly Park…big and scaly…a couple necking in a parked car…” She then looked the ensouled vampire square in his eyes, “You’ve got to go and kill it...now”

“Why?” Angel replied with a snort as he bowed his head. “It’s not my concern.”

“Not your concern??” Standing straight up, Cordelia looked down on the vampire sitting down before her in disbelief, trying her best to reconcile this sulking figure with the champion that she had come to know and love as her best friend. “Not your concern!!??” She all but shouted as Cordelia the Queen took center stage. “Those people need you and you mean to tell me you’re just gonna just sit there on your bony undead vampire ass—all because of what a bunch of morons did to you in the Hyperion a few years ago? Hell, you’re dead—you got better! That couple in the park’s not going to!”

Then, snorting her disgust as the tormented vampire just sat there brooding, the time traveling seer picked up an empty paper bag. “Well, if you don’t have the guts to do something about it—I guess I’m gonna have to.” With that, she stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door as she left, not even bothering looking back at the stunned figure sitting, looking down at his now half-empty cup of rapidly cooling blood.

*******************************************

“Gotta do everything myself…” The seer grumbled as she opened the glass case on the corridor wall outside Angel’s apartment. Then, taking out the fire ax, she hefted it momentarily, finding its balance, before slipping it into the paper bag she carried with her. She then glanced back at the now closed apartment door, hoping against hope that it would open, signaling that her future partner had come to his senses. But, the hopeful look on the young brunette’s face was soon replaced by one of disgust as the door remained closed. “Loser!” She sneered as she turned her back and strode out into the night to the sounds of Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction” coming from someone’s radio…

The eastern world it is explodin',
Violence flarin', bullets loadin',
You're old enough to kill but not for votin',
You don't believe in war, what's that gun you're totin',
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin',
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.

Don't you understand, what I'm trying to say?
Can't you see the fear that I'm feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there's no running away,
There'll be noone to save with the world in a grave,
Take a look around you, boy, it's bound to scare you, boy,
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.

As Angel sat down, head bowed, he reflected on the strange woman’s words, remembering how, when he had reached out that one time in 1952 he had been repaid by being hanged by a mad lynch mob. Didn’t she understand? Now, that little slip of a half-breed…provided she was telling the truth about her visions…was going forth all on her own to slay a demon? Why should he care if she gets herself killed along with those others? ‘Better to stay here and drink my blood in peace.’ He thought as he looked at the empty saucepan in the sink. “She said it tastes good with cinnamon.” The tormented vampire said to himself as he slipped on his leather coat before slipping out into the night as well.

Yeah, my blood's so mad, feels like coagulatin',
I'm sittin' here, just contemplatin',
I can't twist the truth, it knows no regulation,
Handful of Senators don't pass legislation,
And marches alone can't bring integration,
When human respect is disintegratin',
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin',
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.

Think of all the hate there is in Red China!
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama!
Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space,
But when you return, it's the same old place,
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace,
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace,
Hate your next-door-neighbour, but don't forget to say grace,
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.

****************************************

Soon after entering the park she saw it—green, large scales, spiked back, with claws and lots of teeth, cutting deep gashes into the side of the blue Pontiac GTO, the young couple cowering in the back seat.

Brandishing her ax, Cordelia, not waiting for fear to overcome her, charged. Taking the demon by surprise, the seer’s wild swing made contact with its side, causing the fearsome creature to howl in pain and rage as yellow ichor spurted out from the wound. Swinging with his club like arm as Cordelia tried vainly to pull the ax head out of its flesh, the demon struck the young woman on her side, causing her to stagger to the ground from the hammer like blow. Looking up, Cordelia gasped as she saw her opponent rear back for the killing blow. Saying her last goodbyes, the time traveling seer laughing inwardly at the irony of her dying before she was even born, looked on with amazement as a growling black clad figure leaped on to the back of the fearsome demon, grasping its neck with his strong arms.

“Angel.” Cordelia gasped in relief as she immediately recognized her current and future partner, even in the dark and with his game face on.

The demon, reaching back, picked up the vampire, throwing him over his shoulder as Cordelia, struggling to her feet, made her way to the car. Angel, immediately seeing the strange woman’s intentions, quickly regained his feet. Then, charging, he grappled with his foe, ignoring the claws raking his side, buying time for the seer to see to the safety of the two innocents.

Reaching the car, Cordelia sighed in relief as she saw that the young man had already managed to clamber to the driver’s seat. “Get the hell outta here!” She yelled as he immediately turned the key to the car, its V8 engine firing up immediately. “Go!” The seer shouted as the boy quickly put the muscle car into gear, taking off with a squeal of tires. Turning her attention back to the fight, she saw that the creature was gaining ground on Angel, his teeth coming awfully close to the vampire’s neck. Grabbing a large tree branch that had fallen to the ground, the plucky young woman charged into the fight, clubbing the demon in the head with her makeshift bat.

Howling his rage, the monster released his hold on Angel just enough to allow the vampire to turn the tables on his foe. Snatching the ax out of the creature’s side, the ensouled vampire struck at the neck of the demon. Cleaving into its flesh, the ax, with his superhuman strength giving it added momentum, sliced clean through, severing the head with one blow. With a sickly thump, the body slumped to the ground, joining its head.

Looking down as the creature dissolved into a multicolored goop, Cordelia shook her head, cracking a slight smile as she noticed her partner’s side. “First, my place to get supplies—then back to yours to patch you up.” Seeing him about to protest, she silenced him with a glare and a raised hand. “And I don’t wanna hear a word from you. I said I’m gonna patch you up and that’s that—end of subject.”

Seeing the look of determination on the young stranger’s face, Angel merely nodded his head. As Cordelia led the way to her apartment, all the tormented vampire could do was shake his head as he tried to figure out just who and what this strange woman was.


Part 6

“Hey, roomie. You doing ok? When I woke up, you were gone, and I read your note…” Felicia, wearing a pale green bathrobe, looked up from her breakfast, her eyes reflecting her concern for her new friend.

“Yeah, I’m ok.” Cordelia answered back with a sigh as she emerged from the bathroom wearing a baby blue kimono style bathrobe, a bath towel wrapped turban style around her hair. “I got in late last night and didn’t want to wake you or anything.” She explained as she ran over the events of last night in her mind. She had made a point of inviting Angel into the apartment in case he needed rapid access, but had made it clear to him that he wasn’t to disturb her roommate. Looking in, she was relieved to find that Felicia had gone on to bed, and so had no problems in gathering the supplies she needed to bind the wounds of the ensouled vampire. Then, they had returned to his place where she had bound his wounds and then, finally, she had stumbled back into her bed where she had managed to grab a few hours sleep before the alarm bell had rung signaling the beginning of yet a new day in the past.

“Great.” Felicia smiled as she sipped her coffee. “So…you still want me to pick you after work and take you to the university with me this afternoon?”

“Yeah.” Cordelia smiled back as she poured coffee from the stainless steel percolator into a cup and then added cream and sugar. Bringing the cup up to her lips, the young seer took the time to savor the aroma of the fresh perked coffee before sipping it. “I need to check to see if it has some books there I need.”

“Cool.” The strawberry blonde grinned as she got up from the table. “I’ve got an afternoon class there so I’ll pick you up around twoish then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Cordy grinned back as she smeared strawberry jam on her toast.

Looking at the clock, Felicia frowned. “We better hurry and get dressed or you’re gonna be late for work and I’m gonna miss my nine o’clock class.”

“Damn.” Cordelia cursed as she wolfed down her toast. “That’s all I need—the troll momma lecturing me on being late…”

“Troll momma?” Felicia smirked in amusement as her roommate dashed into her bedroom to get changed.

*******************************************

Staring up at the ceiling, hands clasped behind his head as he lay upon the ratty old mattress, Angel, between counting the little black dots each tile contained, thought back to the events of last night. “Why?” He asked himself as he remembered how that beautiful, yet infuriating, stranger had simply strode into his place and had then, through her words, shamed him into doing what he had promised he would never do again—risk being hurt by reaching out to others. As he brooded over this question, the sounds of Del Shannon’s ‘Runaway’ coming from the tiny transistor radio sitting on the end table next to his bed filled the room

As I walk along I wonder a-what went wrong
With our love, a love that was so strong
And as I still walk on, I think of the things we've done
Together, a-while our hearts were young

“How can she understand?” The tormented vampire said as he felt the gentle pressure of the bandages covering the already nearly healed wounds on his side. “How can she even come close to conceiving of what I did?”

I'm a-walkin' in the rain
Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain
Wishin' you were here by me
To end this misery
And I wonder
I wa-wa-wa-wa-wonder
Why
Ah-why-why-why-why-why she ran away
And I wonder where she will stay
My little runaway, run-run-run-run-runaway

“Who does she think she is?” The 210 year old former Scourge of Europe growled as he momentarily slid into his demon face while the electric piano solo of Del Shannon’s song rang out its mournful melody. He sighed as he sank even further into the comfort of his brood. “She has no idea…” The vampire sighed, all the while subconsciously doubting his own words as once again the face of the stranger filled his thoughts.

I'm a-walkin' in the rain
Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain
Wishin' you were here by me
To end this misery
And I wonder
I wa-wa-wa-wa-wonder
Why
Ah-why-why-why-why-why she ran away
And I wonder where she will stay
My little runaway, run-run-run-run-runaway
A-run-run-run-run-runaway

************************************

“Another day at Hellmouth High.” Cordelia groaned as she left the library after a hard day’s work inventorying books and dealing with students.

“Hey, spaz! Yeah, you…panty waist…I’m talkin’ to you!” Turning towards the loud voice, the time traveling seer sighed inwardly as she saw the Harris boys along with a couple other young toughs ganging up on the much smaller Ira Rosenberg near the lockers. Rory had placed a blocking arm right in front of the bookish freshman as Tony, after moistening his index finger, stuck it in the younger boy’s ear. “Wet Willie!!” The obnoxious Tony Harris yelled as he continued to torment Ira.

“I think we oughta pants him!” Rory smirked as the other toughs grinned and nodded their heads, while the other students, sniffing that a major humiliation was in the offing, began to gather to watch the coming show.

“Yeah, pants the geek.” One of the boys, his hair combed into a DA and wearing a leather jacket, grinned evilly as Tony reached for the waistband of the younger boy’s slacks.

“Ok…that’s it!” Cordelia scowled as she squared her shoulders, but before she could intervene, she sighed in relief as Mrs. Snyder waded into the confrontation.

Grabbing both Harris boys by their ears, the elderly librarian addressed the two hoodlums as if she was speaking to a pair of five year olds as she dragged them down the hall, “You young men are going to go to the principal’s office right now…you ought to be ashamed of yourselves, picking on such a sweet little boys! Juvenile delinquents—that’s what you are!! You’ll never amount to a thing as long as you both live!! And you know what’s really bad? Your kids are going to be just like you!!”

Shaking her head, Cordy walked over to where young Ira stood, quietly regaining his composure. “You ok, Ira?” The lovely brunette asked as she helped the young man straighten his tie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you, Ma’am.” The future father of the young woman whom Cordelia had tormented so mercilessly said, managing a wan smile as he picked his books up off the floor. “I better go, though—my mom’s supposed to pick me up soon.”

“Ok.” Cordelia smiled back as she began to make her way for the exit, only to run into Jenny. “Hey, Jenny!” The young time traveler called out to the bookish student that she had recently befriended.

“Miss Chase.” The dark haired young junior, recognizing the voice of the assistant librarian who had taken her under her wing, smiled as she turned around.

“We still on for the Mod Shoppe and the beauty parlor this weekend?” Cordelia asked, referring to their shopping trip.

“I…I…I’m not really sure I oughta…” The shy young girl stammered.

“Oh, poo.” Cordelia smiled back reassuringly. “It’ll be fun. ‘Sides, Felicia’s dying to meet you--anyway, you wanna make them...” The seer then jerked her head towards the reigning queen and her court as she whispered, “…pee their pants…don’t you?”

“Yeah…I guess so…” The younger girl replied, a faint hint of an evil glint appearing in her eyes.

“Groovy.” Cordy said, flashing an evil grin of her own. “We’ll pick you up at your place Saturday at 10 then.”

*************************************

“Over here, Cordy!” The lovely seer smiled warmly as she saw her roommate wave from the front seat of her cherry red 1966 Chevy Corvair Monza convertible. Fixing her pastel print scarf over her hair and putting on her sunglasses after she had adjusted her purse hanging from its shoulder strap, Cordelia waved back as she strode towards her ride, smiling smugly as she noticed how the men and boys were ogling her well turned legs, plainly visible beneath the light blue A-line miniskirt she had chosen to wear today.

“Hey, Licia!” Cordelia grinned as she got into the passenger side of the Corvair. Then, frowning as she looked for a safety belt, quipped, “Didn’t you read ‘Unsafe at any Speed’?”

“Screw Ralph Nader!” Felicia riposted as she patted the spotless wood paneled dashboard and then affectionately cooed. “This is my baby.”

“Ok, Momma.” The pretty brunette laughed merrily, “Let’s get the hell outta here.” She then frowned as she her eyes took in the large main building of the high school, “You have no idea how much I hate this place.” She said in a low whisper as bittersweet memories of her high school years and of the people she knew from there—Buffy, Giles, Xander, Willow, that Marcie girl, Oz, Harmony, Aura, Larry, Scott Hope—people living, dead, and undead, rushed through her head.

************************************

As they drove to the UC Sunnydale campus, Cordelia was once again struck by how drastically 1967 Sunnydale differed from the Sunnydale that she grew up in. As the sporty Corvair flew by the wooded area that would in the future be the Sunnydale Mall, the young seer chuckled in wry amusement.

“What’s so funny?” Felicia, hearing the laughter and seeing the ironic smile on her roommate’s face, asked as they came to a stop at a stop sign.

“Just thinking about how different this place is gonna be in oh…thirty years or so. I bet this whole area’ll end up a giant shopping center.” Cordelia answered back as she recalled that a Doublemeat Palace would one day be standing where a small pond bordered by shade trees was now.

“Well…” Felicia sighed, “That’s progress for you. Bummer, huh?” She said mournfully as Donny and another man pulled up next to them in Donny’s white 1967 Ford Mustang.

“Hey, babes!” Donny, wearing a blue Nehru jacket with love beads hanging from his neck, called out from the driver’s seat. “What’s happening?”

“Hey, baby!” Felicia called back. “We’re on our way to UCSD—Cordy’s got some library stuff she’s gotta get and I got a late class. What about you cats? What’s shakin’ with you?”

“We’re headed there too.” Donny answered as a couple of cars pulled up behind them. An evil glint in his eye, the mod young man smirked, “Race to the university?”

Smirking back, the strawberry blonde answered slyly as a horn honked reflecting the irritation of its owner, “What’s the bet?”

“You win…me and Scott takes you and Cordy to the Tom Jones concert in a couple of weeks.” Donny smiled back.

“And if you win?” Felicia smirked, already having a good idea as to the answer.

“Then you and Cordy come with us to the happening at Dave’s this weekend.”

Looking across at her roommate sitting next to her, Felicia raised an eyebrow in inquiry as the drivers of the cars waiting behind the two sports cars began leaning even harder on their horns. Her curiosity and desire to have fun warring with the knowledge that she had important work that needed doing, the young seer thought for a few minutes, then a wicked grin crossing her face, answered. “Oh…go ahead, Licia! But tell Donny he’s gonna have to get another chick for Scott.”

Seeing her roommate’s questioning look, Cordelia explained. “It’s not that he couldn’t light my fire—cause he could—boy could he!” The seer said as she looked appreciatively at the sandy haired twenty-something young man wearing a light blue shirt and jeans sitting in the passenger’s seat of the Mustang. “It’s just that I…well, I kinda met someone while I was walking last night, and I think I’m gonna drag him along. It’d do him good to get his ass outta that apartment of his.”

“Ok…” Felicia replied with a wicked grin of her own. “But when we get to the college, you’re gonna tell me all about this new cat.” Turning towards Donny, Felicia yelled, “You’re on!” Then, with a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber, she floored the accelerator of the speedy Corvair as the Ripchord’s ‘Hey Little Cobra’ played on the car’s AM radio.

I took my Cobra down to the track
Hitched to the back of my Cadillac
Everyone was there just a waiting for me
There were plenty of Stingrays and XKEs

Spring little Cobra get ready to strike (Shut ‘em down)
Spring little Cobra now with all of your might
Spring little Cobra get ready to strike (Shut ‘em down)
Spring little Cobra now with all of your might
Hey little Cobra don´t you know you´re gonna shut ´em down

When the flag went down you could hear rubber burn
The Stingray had me going into the turn
I hung a big shift and I got into high
And when I flew by the Stingray I waved bye-bye

Spring little Cobra get ready to strike (Shut ‘em down)
Spring little Cobra now with all of your might
Spring little Cobra get ready to strike (Shut ‘em down)
Spring little Cobra now with all of your might
Hey little Cobra don´t you know you´re gonna shut ´em down

The white Mustang and red Corvair traded the lead several times as they sped down the road, the women laughing as they passed the men and vice versa until, finally reaching the entrance to the university, the Chevy crossed the finish line. Pulling into the first open parking space, the two women sat waiting, their lips turned up into smug smiles as the men pulled up next to them.

Around the far turn in the straight-away,
I was blowin´ off everyone who got in my way,
the stingrays and jags were so far behind,
I took my cobra out of gear and let her coast to the line.

Spring little Cobra get ready to strike (Shut ‘em down)
Spring little Cobra now with all of your might
Spring little Cobra get ready to strike (Shut ‘em down)
Spring little Cobra now with all of your might
Hey little Cobra don´t you know you´re gonna shut ´em down

“You win, babes.” Donny grinned as he got out of the car. “I’ll call you later to make plans, Licia.” He laughed as the two women got out of their vehicle.

“Better find a chick for Scotty.” Felicia smiled back. “Cordy’s already got herself a cat.” Then, flashing a wicked grin at her roommate, she teased, “He sounds perfectly groovy too.”

“No sweat.” The dark haired young man said as he wrapped a friendly arm around each of the two lady’s waists. Then, calling back to his friend, he asked, “Hey, Scotty! Cordy’s taken. How’s about I set you up with Nicki?”

“Nicki?” The blonde surfer guy though for a few moments and then answered. “Yeah…sure…that’s cool.”

“Far out.” Donny smiled as he waved goodbye to his friend. “Catch ya later, man!”

*************************************

“Catch you chicks here about 5?” Donny grinned as he kissed Felicia and Cordelia on the cheeks in the library foyer.

“It’s a date.” Felicia smiled back, kissing the handsome young man on the cheek. Then turning to Cordelia, she added, “Catch ya later, roomie.”

“See you guys.” Cordy smiled back as she kissed Donny on the cheek as well, then, turning around, made her way to the information desk where she quickly found out where she needed to go. Approaching the reference section, she found the shelves where the phone books for the major cities in the US and Europe were kept. Working quickly through the volumes, she smiled smugly as she reached the one she wanted—London. Taking it off the shelf, she sat down at a nearby table, and thumbing through it, quickly found and recorded the two phone numbers she sought on a piece of scrap paper.

Then, making her way to the occult section, she shook her head in amazement as she saw how barren it was. “You’d think…” she whispered to herself, “…that a college built on the Hellmouth would have a better selection of books.” Looking, she sighed in relief as she found copy of “De Cultibus Vespertilionibus”, “On The Vampire Cults,” She whispered as she read the title, inwardly thanking Angel and Wesley for the many long hours of force-feeding Latin into her brain. Picking up the heavy tome, she once again thanked Angel for forcing her to build up her muscles training as she made her way to the circulation desk.
Approaching the clerk, she plopped the weighty book down on the table and then presented her Sunnydale High identification card that permitted her to check out books at UCSD.

“Far out.” The clerk, a student with long dark hair and a beard and wearing a tie-dyed shirt and love beads, remarked as he took out the circulation card for Cordelia to sign. “You work at Sunnydale High?”

“Yeah, I’m the assistant librarian.” Cordelia said as she signed her name and then gave the card back to the clerk.

Checking the date due slip, the clerk cracked a smile, “Crazy…Last time this book was checked out was 1924…you doing research or something?”

“Yeah…” Cordy grinned, “Something like that.”

“Outta sight.” The student said, looking impressed. Then, handing the book to her, he said “Peace,” as he flashed the V shaped peace sign with his fingers.

“Peace.” The young seer smiled back as she made the peace sign as well.

“Don’t forget…” The clerk called out, “Demonstration’s in an hour in front of the ROTC building.”

***********************************

“Get what you need?” Felicia asked as Cordelia carried the heavy tome with both hands.

“Yeah.” Cordy sighed dramatically as she smiled sweetly at Donny while appearing to strain carrying the book.

Laughing, Donny reached out with his hands, “Here, baby…give it to me.”

“Thanks, Donny.” The lovely brunette flashed her handsome companion one of her trademark winning smiles as she handed the thick book to him.

Looking with curiosity at the gold embossed lettering on the leather binding, Donny asked, “De Cultibus…what?”

“It’s Latin.” Cordelia explained as she decided to go with a half-truth here. “It’s about really freaky ancient cults—I’m thinking about doing my Masters work on it.”

“Far out.” Donny exclaimed as the trio walked across campus, until, coming near the ROTC building, they heard the sound of chanting:

“HEY…HEY…LBJ
HOW MANY BABIES DID YOU KILL TODAY!!!”

“What’s going on?” Felicia asked as the drew closer to the gathering crowd of students—many of the men dressed in jeans with multi-colored tie-dyed t-shirts, the women in long flowing maxi dresses or bell bottom jeans with halter tops or flowing blouses. Several in the crowd were carrying picket signs. Some of the placards had peace symbols drawn on them, others stated ‘END THE WAR’ or ‘US OUT OF VIETNAM’ or other anti-war slogans. Cordy looked on in amazement in even more amazement as she saw one girl waving an American flag in the air, a peace symbol replacing the stars in the blue field.

“Anti-war demonstration.” Cordelia, remembering what the circulation clerk told her, answered.

“Oh.” Felicia, curious, drew closer to the crowd.

Seeing the riot police, wearing their tactical helmets and brandishing long nightsticks, arrayed in front of the building facing the demonstrators, Cordy, having a bad feeling about this, warned as the shouting grew louder, “Better not get too close, guys…”

“HO…HO…HO CHI MINH,” The crowd of students now began to chant as olive drab trucks pulled up next to the building, disgorging helmeted and rifle carrying young men wearing olive drab, who then promptly took up positions, their rifles at port arms, close to the police.

“Hey…Isn’t that Lenny?” Donny exclaimed, pointing towards their friend from the Bronze, standing next to a group of other young men near a burning waste receptacle.

“Yeah.” Felicia answered, instantly recognizing her old friend.

“What’s he doing?” Cordelia asked as she saw him take a card out of his wallet, and then producing a lighter, set it ablaze, dropping it in the burning container.

“Burning his draft card.” Donny replied somberly as someone nearby began to strum a guitar and sing. “He got a letter last week from The Man telling him that they were taking away his student exemption and classifying him 1-A.”

“Bummer.” Felicia said in a soft voice as the guitarist began to sing ‘The Vietnam Rag.

Come on all of you big strong men,

Uncle Sam needs your help again.

He's got himself in a terrible jam

Way down yonder in Vietnam

So put down your books and pick up a gun,

We're gonna have a whole lotta fun.


And it's one, two, three,

What are we fighting for?

Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,

Next stop is Vietnam;

And it's five, six, seven,

Open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

Whoopee! we're all gonna die.


“What’s he gonna do now?” Cordelia asked as a slender young flower child, her blond hair flowing all the way down to the small of her back, went along the row of soldiers sticking daisies into the barrels of their rifles as she smiled at them.

Come on generals, let's move fast;

Your big chance has come at last.

Gotta go out and get those reds —

The only good commie is the one that's dead

You know that peace can only be won

When we've blown 'em all to kingdom come.


And it's one, two, three,

What are we fighting for?

Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,

Next stop is Vietnam;

And it's five, six, seven,

Open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

Whoopee! we're all gonna die.

“Told me last night him and Edie were planning on cutting out and heading off to Canada.” Donny said as he shook his head. “Can’t say as I blame him. I don’t know what I’d do if they called me up.” The young mod shook his head dejectedly as the shouts and slogans grew louder and more violent.

“It’s starting to turn into a bad scene.” Felicia interjected, a worried expression on her face. “I think we’d better get Lenny and blow this place before the fuzz starts cracking heads.”

“You’re right.” Cordelia said, her voice also showing her fear that the situation was rapidly deteriorating as now students were picking up and brandishing rocks and bottles.

Come on Wall Street, don't move slow,

Why man, this is war au-go-go.

There's plenty good money to be made

Supplying the Army with the tools of the trade,

Just hope and pray that if they drop the bomb,

They drop it on the Viet Cong.


And it's one, two, three,

What are we fighting for?

Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,

Next stop is Vietnam;

And it's five, six, seven,

Open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

Whoopee! we're all gonna die.



“Getting ugly!” Cordy shouted as the threesome tried to work their way through the increasingly restive crowd as the police began to shift about in their positions. “We better hurry!”

“Too late!” Donny yelled as someone threw a rock, hitting one of the policemen on his helmet, forcing him to his knees. His fellow officers, seeing their downed comrade, rushed into the mob of students, at first driving them back thanks to their initial charge and swinging batons.

“Lenny!” Felicia shouted, trying to get the attention of her friend, who at that moment, was near the center of the fight between the students and police.

Cordelia, seeing the National Guardsmen leveling their rifles into firing positions, felt a heavy weight in the pit of her stomach as a bottle hit one of the soldiers. “Oh my God!!” She screamed as the now panicked soldiers fired into the crowd of young men and women. The students, hearing the rifle fire and smelling the acrid cordite, fled in panic, stampeding from the courtyard, the riot police in hot pursuit.

“Get away from here!” The young seer commanded, turning towards her friends. But, before she could say or do anything else, she saw Felicia suddenly grow pale and point. Turning towards where her friend pointed, Cordelia looked on in shock as Lenny, a growing red stain now marring his spotlessly clean white shirt, fell to ground, lying motionless.

Rushing to her new friend, the young seer, kneeling next to him, searched in vain for a pulse. Then, looking up, she saw two soldiers and a man wearing a suit and tie with a camera. Tears flowing down her cheeks, she screamed out as the reporter snapped her picture for tomorrow’s paper, “WHY?”

Come on mothers throughout the land,

Pack your boys off to Vietnam.

Come on fathers, don't hesitate,

Send your sons off before it's too late.

You can be the first one on your block

To have your boy come home in a box.


And it's one, two, three,

What are we fighting for?

Don't ask me, I don't give a damn,

Next stop is Vietnam;

And it's five, six, seven,

Open up the pearly gates,

Well there ain't no time to wonder why,

Whoopee! we're all gonna die.

**********************************************

As the young seer walked down the deserted night street, she reflected on what had happened earlier that day. Thankfully, her and her friends weren’t arrested. The two soldiers had, with surprising gentleness, taken her away from her friend’s body and reunited her with Felicia and Donny. The trip back to their place was a quiet one—neither woman felt like talking, and after crying in each others arms once again, Felicia had, as before, collapsed into a deep slumber.

Reaching the tenement apartment where the ensouled vampire whom she one day call friend stayed, Cordelia softly knocked on the door. Hearing the gentle rapping, Angel, roused from his restless slumber, made his way to the door. Opening it, he almost gasped as he saw the strange woman from last night standing before him. But this time, she looked different. No longer the supremely confident seer, the woman standing before him, her eyes red and puffy from her tears, reminded him, more than anything else, of his long lost little sister in her vulnerability. “What…” He said softly, unaccustomed concern and compassion filling his voice.

“Hold me.” The young woman cried as she buried her head in his chest. “Please, Angel…just hold me.”


Part 7 - Interludes

Prologue 1—Sunnydale, 1997

Entering the Bronze through the back door, Angel paused for a moment in the comfort of the shadows. Thanks to his vampiric senses, he easily made out through the subdued lighting the forms of the young humans dancing and sitting and talking amongst themselves. His lips turning upwards into a slight smile, he remembered what this place was like the last time he was here, thirty years ago almost to the day. He recalled the miniskirt wearing women dancing with men wearing Nehru jackets with chains and beads hanging around their necks, or gaily dressed in outfits that reminded the two hundred plus year old vampire of the Regency bucks that he had encountered in the 1820s and ‘30s.

Now, as then, he was looking for someone—someone special—someone unique. As his eyes searched for this unique individual, his keen hearing picked up through the din a voice that was hauntingly familiar—a voice from thirty years ago…

“Hello salty goodness! Someone call 911 cause that boy’s gonna need oxygen…”

It was her! He then remembered that she told him that she would be here—but she wouldn’t be the person that he knew. She said that she wouldn’t know him—that he probably wouldn’t like her anyway—at least not now. And that she couldn’t tell him any more; that he would figure it all out in the future. Glancing at her through his peripheral vision and sniffing her with his sharp vampiric sense of smell, he understood. The winning smile, dancing eyes, and merry laughter were as he remembered them to be, but the rest of the package was different. She was younger—about Buffy’s age, and her hair, instead of the chin length blonde highlighted hair that he dimly recalled from long ago was long, luxurious, and brown. She was also all human—no trace of demon within her.

Then, he saw her—sitting with her friends, laughing and talking. As he gazed into the lovely blue eyes of the blonde Slayer, all thoughts of thirty years ago disappeared from his mind as he totally ignored his past and future in favor of the present.

***************************

Prologue 2—Sunnydale, 1999

“Any luck, Willow?” Oz, the lead guitarist for the rock band "Dingoes Ate My Baby" and recently reunited boyfriend to the red headed high school student currently scanning the microfilm reader, asked as he quietly stood behind his girl, kneading her shoulders with his firm hands.

“Yeah, if you count nothing as luck, then all sorts of luck.” The young computer nerd and beginning witch, closing her eyes, sighed in relief as her boyfriend’s skillful fingers massaged away all the tension. Tilting her head back, she looked up at the soulful eyes of her young musician and smiled warmly. “The Sunnydale Herald only has from 1980 up online, so I’m digging through microfilms.”

“Where are you now?” Oz asked as he continued his massage, now working the young redhead’s upper arms as well as shoulder blades.

“1967.” Willow chuckled. “War protests, bra burnings, and all that stuff,” She added as her laughter proved infectious as witnessed by her boyfriend’s chuckles. Then, she came to a headline in large bold print, ANTI-WAR PROTEST AT UCSD LEAVES ONE DEAD, THREE INJURED, 50 ARRESTED.

“What’s this?” Oz, the headline immediately catching his interest, asked as he stopped his massage and leaned forward in order to read better.

“There was a protest in front of the ROTC building,” Willow paraphrased as she read the text, “They called in the National Guard, and I guess someone got scared or something because they started shooting…” She then scanned to the photo of a young woman with shoulder length hair and wearing a miniskirt kneeling next to a man lying on the ground, looking up plaintively at whoever snapped the picture.

Seeing something familiar in the young woman’s face, the young musician, pointing at the kneeling woman, asked his girlfriend, “Hey Willow…can you zoom in on that woman there?”

“Sure.” The redhead, also sensing something vaguely recognizable in the features of the distraught figure in the photograph, magnified the image, and then, as the face of the woman in question became clearly visible, the couple gasped in surprise as they said in unison, “Cordelia?”

************************************

“That woman looks like Cordelia!” Willow said in a hushed voice as she pointed at the crying woman.

“Can’t be.” Oz replied in an equally soft voice. “If that were her, that’d make her…”

“Kinda old…” Willow whispered as she finished her boyfriend’s thoughts.

“Yeah.” The guitarist said, agreeing with his girlfriend. Then, a slight smile crossing his face, he exclaimed, “I think I know…she’s a relative…right?”

“Uh Huh.” The computer expert shook her head definitely. “Cordelia’s family doesn’t come from here…her mom and dad came here just before she was born—not like my dad or Xander’s…” Then, reading further, the young redhead gasped once again as she pointed out a paragraph, before whispering in amazement and disbelief, barely able to get the words out, “It says here that her name is…C…C…Cordelia…Chase…and that she’s an…” The youthful witch then gulped as she looked into the eyes of her boyfriend, “…assistant librarian at…Sunnydale High??? Here???”

“One way to find out.” Oz declared, his voice reflecting his usual quiet confidence, as he went to the bookcase and took out a book. “1967 yearbook.” He explained as he saw his girlfriend’s questioning expression. Setting the book down, he thumbed through the pages until he found it—a black and white picture of that same woman standing before an older version of the familiar circulation desk, wearing a miniskirt and white thigh high go-go boots. Then, seeing the name, the young couple looked at each other in disbelief as they said in unison, “Assistant Librarian—Cordelia Chase.”

“Oh…my…God…” Willow gasped as her hand went to her mouth. “Can’t be—can it? I mean…it’s her?! My Dad…he used to tell me that there was a woman who used to be the assistant librarian when he went to school here and that she was always really nice to him, but that she left at the end of the semester and never came back cause she was involved in some protest movements and other stuff.” The young redhead shook her head in disbelief, “I never got a chance to look at his yearbook or anything like that because he lost it sometime when he was in college and he just forgot her name…”

“Cordelia…nice to your dad?” Oz said in disbelief as he cracked an ironic grin.

“Yeah…impossible.” Willow agreed sarcastically, a note of bitterness in her voice towards the young woman who had been such a thorn in her side for so long.

“So…what do we do?” The guitarist asked as he gazed once again at the picture of his fellow classmate who apparently was also the assistant librarian in 1967.

“I think we need to tell Giles.” Willow said in a soft voice as she stood up.

****************************

As the couple entered the office of the librarian and Watcher, he looked up from the massive tome that he was currently engrossed in. “Willow? Oz? Have you found something of interest?”

“You could say that.” Willow sighed as she handed the Englishman the photocopy of the newspaper article and the 1967 yearbook, opened to the page with Cordelia's photo.

“I see…” The librarian said in a low voice as he took off his glasses and cleaned them. Then, after taking a book out of a locked desk drawer, he went to his office door, and, after closing it and locking it, motioned for the young couple standing in front of his desk to sit down. “Although I was hoping that you wouldn’t come upon this, I knew that the odds were that someone would sooner or later. Thankfully…” He sighed in relief. “The two of you were the ones to have found out about this first. I shudder to think what would have happened had Xander been the one.” ‘Or Buffy…’ He left unsaid. Looking down at his two comrades in the coming struggle, he admonished. “I cannot stress this to you two enough. Anything…and I do mean anything…that you see, hear, or read regarding this matter must stay strictly amongst us for reasons that shall soon be made abundantly clear to you.”

“Ok, Giles.” Willow, a look of bemusement on her face, agreed as her boyfriend also nodded his head, indicating his acceptance of the terms set by the Watcher.

“We’ll keep it quiet, Giles.”

Nodding his head in grateful acknowledgment, The English Watcher, after sitting down, handed the book that he had just taken to the young redhead sitting across from him.

Taking the book and opening it to the first page, the bookish young woman read aloud, “Watcher’s Journal of Edmund R. Giles—1967.”

As the shy redhead looked up in inquiry, Giles nodded his head. “My father.” Then, glancing at the book, he said softly, “Continue.”

“February, 12, 1967. I received a most interesting phone call today from a young woman saying that she came from the town of Sunnydale in the United States. Her name is…” The shy redhead then paused momentarily, her face reflecting her disbelief. Then, seeing the librarian nod his head, she continued in a hushed tone, “Cordelia Chase…”


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