Title: After Hours
Author: Joanna (Masked Spangler)
Posted: 03-21-2001
Site: http://www.geocities.com/masked_spangler/
Email: masked_spangler@yahoo.com
Notes: Hope you like this one! No spoliers to speak of (vague reference to Darla arc) and much less angsty than my other fics. Standard disclaimer (not mine, Joss is god, no money etc)applies. Please give me feedback (PLEASE!) if you like it. Enjoy!
“Well, hello there!”
At this hour, she looked not only cold, not only tired or lonely, but tiny.
“Well, well. Yet another soldier in the fight against evil, turning up on my doorstep in the middle of the night. Last time this happened, it was the owner of that long, dark coat you’re wearing. He rang the doorbell for ten minutes before I answered. But you, my sweet…didn’t need the bell to know that you were here.”
“That’s good,” she said quietly, shivering as he helped her to her feet. “Because I didn’t feel like ringing it.”
“Too comfortable sitting alone on the cold, wet pavement?”
She shrugged, following him inside. “So can I have a drink or something?”
He raised an eye. “I let you in, didn’t I? But no tequila, love. I remember how that turned out last time.”
“All right. Rum and Coke.”
He sighed. “Sweetie, the sugar will keep you up all night.”
She glared darkly. “More like the nightmares will. But of course, you had nothing to do with that?”
He shrugged. “Nothing per se, although I think I know what you’re talking about.” He poured her the drink. “There you go, hon. See, I never said I wouldn’t give you what you wanted. Just that it wasn’t good for you.”
She narrowed her eye suspiciously. “Are you talking about the drink, or about the other thing?”
The host sighed. “I already told you, that wasn’t my doing. Seeing it coming and sending it coming aren’t the same thing, you know.”
She took a tentative sip of her drink, wincing at the bitterness. “Well, you might have warned me.”
“You didn’t ask.” He took her hand gently. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
She nodded. “I’ve had the dream a few times,” she began, “but this is the first night I woke up and remembered details. You’re in it. I mean…it’s you. I’m here, in Caritas. Angel is here with me. And there are a lot of people here. I know some of them: that lawyer from Wolfram and Hart, Kate Lockley, Willow and Xander, who I used to…well, I know some of them. But there are a lot of people there who I don’t know.”
“And which group am I in?” he prompted.
“What? I…I know you.”
“Yes, in the real world, you do. But in the dream?”
“Oh.” She sucked in a big gulp of her drink, furrowing her brow in concentration. He topped off the glass as she answered carefully. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I know you in the dream. Or at least, you aren’t the same thing in the dream. You’re…you’re them.”
“Them?”
“The Powers-That-Be. You represent them. You’re the master of ceremonies.” He caught the slightest tremble of dread as she put herself back in the dream.
“It’s a contest. All the women…they are links. I’m Angel’s link. Willow and Xander…I guess they belong together, or at least, I know them so I put them together. The only other ones I remember were Kate and Lindsey, so I guess they go together too.”
Her hands clenched the side of the table. “I know it doesn’t make sense. Unless Willow goes with…no, that wouldn’t work. Unless there were others…or unlesss Kate goes with Angel? I just assumed I went with Angel, but maybe…”
“You’re getting side-tracked,” said the host gently. “Finish the story.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Well, as I said, there was a contest. A karaoke contest. Everyone who was a link had to sing, and they would be judged. Points for costume, points for song choice, points for delivery and bonus points for dance and creativity.” She ticked them off on her fingers, just starting to get drunk enough to slur her words. “And the prize…”
She shuddered again, and he gave her a gentle smile. “The prize?”
“Redemption,” she said quietly. “The winner…would get redemption. For her warrior.” She laughed bitterly. “It’s so like the PTB to dangle that kind of carrot, to make it a game. Typical…”
“So how’d it turn out?”
“Well, Willow went first. Tori Amos. Cornflake Girl. ‘This is not really happening. You bet your life it is.’ She was supposed to sing for her warrior, but it felt like it was all about me.” She was halfway through her second Run and Coke, and he topped off her glass again.
“Well, it was your dream,” said the host.
She gulped. “Kate went next. Garth Brooks. If Tomorrow Never Comes.”
“Let me guess. Again, about you.”
She nodded. “And she got a standing ovation. Studded cowboy boots. Jeans with a fringe 10 inches long. A leather vest. She got into it.”
“And you?”
There were tears in her eyes. “I hate singing. It’s so unfair of them to test me like that! I’m an unworthy link because I’m tone deaf? Someone like Lindsey could win the prize because he drew a better card in the talent crapshoot?”
He topped off her drink again and tried to guide her back to the story. “Well, what did you sing?”
She looked up, eyes flaming angrily. “I froze. They cued the music, but I just couldn’t do it. I froze.”
“I know that. But…the song?”
“Paula Cole. ‘Where is my John Wayne? Where is my prairie sun? Where is my lonely ranger? Where have all the cowboys gone…’ ”
“Again, about you. And about him.”
“But I…I mean, I’m still mad at him about the whole Darla thing…”
“Apparently.”
“But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t…I mean, he doesn’t have to save me in order for me to save him.”
“You’re saying you don’t need a cowboy every once in awhile?”
“There are no cowboys.”
“Aren’t there? How about your warrior? He’s saved your life before.”
“Not without consequences. Never without consequences.”
The host nodded. “And consequences …you’re saying that’s a bad thing?”
“Look, is that what this dream is all about? The PTB are punishing us for Angel’s little freak-out? Because if that’s the case, I think it’s him they should be haunting, not me. I get it, believe me.”
“Do you? You don’t think it’s a little bit presumptuous to assume that the Powers are as angry as you are? That they have feelings, and he’s somehow hurt them?”
Her face crumpled, and he took her hand tenderly. “Look, I’m not trying to make this harder for you. And I don’t know what the Powers are thinking, or at least, I don’t know it in the tidy, easily expressible way you think I might. What I do know is that feelings seldom come into the equation for them. It’s about checks and balances. Good and evil. You, on the other hand…”
She wiped away the tears. “Me on the other hand is ready for you to stop being cryptic guy and tell me what the dream means. It did come from Them, didn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“And they are trying to tell me something?”
“Yes.”
“Well…what?”
He sighed. “Sweetheart, it’s in the music. It always has been.”
“You’re saying…”
“Honey, they’re ALL you. And they’re all him.”
“Xander…he was the first person who loved me. So he’s…Angel’s good side.”
The host nodded. “And good sides don’t need redemption, because they’re already redeemed.”
“So Lindsey…he’s Angel’s bad side. And Kate’s competing for him…she wins redemption for his bad side? Then what was Angel himself?”
The host shrugged. “An amalgam? The sum of all he is?”
“And I was the sum of all I am. And that was the link that didn’t want to forgive him. The side that got hurt.”
“Where have all the cowboys gone.”
“But Willow and Kate…wait, I think I’m getting this. Willow was paired with Xander. So she’s my generous side, the side that let me fall in love with someone like him even when I thought I knew better. And she sings about…leaps of faith.”
“Thought that was a good solution,” echoed the host.
“So Kate…Kate is my more practical side. The side that would do whatever it takes, wear the right clothes, act the right way. And she sings about…”
“For surely there's always tomorrow to make up for an oversight. And we always get a second chance to make everything right,” quoted the host.
“So they want me to forgive him,” breathed Cordelia.
The host shook his head. “It’s not about them, hon. They just want you to get the message.”
Cordelia frowned. “I have a headache,” she whined.
“Alcohol will do that to you.”
“So will too much thinking.”
End.