In the City
Part Fourteen: Love, Like Ashes…
Oz was running. He knew she was there the moment she appeared. Willow. Something bad was happening. There was fire. Burning flesh. Run. Someone … Amy … was screaming. Run. The door to Amy’s room was shattered.
Amy was inside, smothering a fire with a blanket. Justine. Justine was on fire.
“Oz,” said Amy, looking up. Oz, it was her. It was…”
“Willow.”
“Yeah,” said Amy. “How…”
“I can sense when she’s close,” said Oz, flatly. Justine looked up at that. The pain of her burns was etched across her face, her lips stretched into a grimace.
“Your ex-girlfriend did this?” she said, coldly. Her and Oz locked stares.
“Yeah,” said Oz, crouching down beside her. “looks like she did.”
Amy straightened her posture and folded her arms. Oz felt the hair on the back of his neck stiffen. There was a magical charge in the air.
“Amy…”
“No, Oz. You weren’t there. You weren’t in Sunnydale when she went Wicked Witch of the West.”
Oz said nothing. Amy seemed different all of the sudden. More confident, more detached.
“She nearly destroyed the world, Oz. She went on a rampage and even Buffy couldn’t stop her. She …”
“And what did you do?” asked Oz. Amy marveled at how little condescension Oz was able to pack into such a loaded question.
“The only sensible thing,” said Amy. “I ran and hid.”
“You hiding now?’
Amy pondered the question for a moment.
“No.”
“Good. We’re meeting in ten in the conference room. Justine, I’ll get you to medical.”
“No,” said Justine, rising shakily. “I’m fine.”
Oz could feel the anger in the room. He knew full well that if either of these women had an opportunity, Willow would be dead in a heartbeat.
“Cool,” said Oz, his voice revealing nothing. “Let’s do this.”
I'm going with Caleb, too. Feels like him.
Hmm. I'd say it might be Ethan, if he weren't already in the story. But it feels like him, sort of, too.
Oooooooooooh. It could be the mayor. I mean, sure, exploded. But still. The mayor seems like a Gershwin hummer.
Yay for Victor. I'm glad you write much faster than I do.
Hmm. I'd say it might be Ethan, if he weren't already in the story. But it feels like him, sort of, too.
Heh. Well, let's just hope I have the feel of the character, then--or at least, the feel of the character in their current condition.
Yay for Victor. I'm glad you write much faster than I do.
Thanks. Of course, it's all relative. I started this thing months ago, before deciding it wasn't working. Originally, actually, it was mostly a Gunn story.
Dear me, I'm getting punchy. Cause I read " Gershwin hummer" and giggled, hard. I could probably use the laugh, but it was all unintended.
I'm gonna guess Doc. After all, we never did see him after Buffy pushed him from the tower. Theoretically, he
could
have survived, right?
In the City
Part Fourteen: Past Tense
The conference room—which previously looked like a comfortable rec room—was now transformed into a military planning center. The sofas and the comfy chair were still there, but the TV displayed schematics of the Wolfram & Hart building, and files and maps rested on the coffee table.
Riley, commandeering the comfy chair, looked stern and pensive, lost in thought. Ethan looked indignant on the couch—two soldiers hovering above him. Oz recognized one of the soldiers—Graham Miller. Before hooking up with this job, Oz had last seen him at the Initiative—one of the soldiers that had imprisoned him. He and Oz had talked it out when Oz arrived, but still…
Justine and Oz stayed standing. Amy sat down on the couch next to Ethan, who turned to smile at her. She shot him a withering glance, and he turned instead back to Riley.
“So,” said Ethan. “Mighty commander. What’s our glorious mission for Queen and Country?”
“This is America,” said Graham. “We don’t have a queen.”
“Don’t be so certain. I’ve seen the pictures of your president as a cheerleader.”
“If you’re finished,” said Riley, “Let’s get this started.” Oz noted the edge to Riley’s voice. The man was not pleased.
“I’ve talked to both Buffy and Rupert Giles, and their … credulous of the idea that both Faith and Willow have gone back to the dark side.
“‘Credulous’ was Giles’ word, wasn’t it?” asked Oz. Riley just gave him a dog-tired stare, and then pushed forward.
“I don’t know about Faith, but I have trouble believing Willow’s gone bade,” said Riley. “I mean, I know her. She’s not …”
“She skinned a guy alive, once,” said Amy. “The guy who killed Tara Maclay?”
Riley went pale.
“And then she tried to destroy the world,” continued Amy, as Oz bristled. “Oh, sure. I’ve done some bad things in my day, but trust me, Srgt. Rock-Hard Abs, you don’t know her nearly as well as I do.”
“And you don’t know her as well as me,” said Oz, a low growl building at the back of his throat. Amy swung around to look at him.
“And am I really so wrong?” she said. Oz had no reply.
“Giles’ people are looking for them,” said Riley, breaking the tension. “But someone’s working overtime to make sure we’re kept away from our mission. People who, a few days ago, we thought were allies are attacking us. That is, if it’s really …”
“It’s really them,” said Oz “I can’t be fooled.”
“Right,” said Riley, rubbing his forehead. “You’re going back into Wolfram & Hart by morning. The schematics are being downloaded into a command bracelet. Oz, that’ll be yours.”
Graham handed Oz something that looked like a thin gauntlet with a Dell embedded in it. “Cool,” said Oz. “Very Dick Tracy.”
“Have fun,” said Ethan. “Because going in there worked so well last time.”
“You’re going with them, Ethan,” said Riley. “We suspect there’s some document, ancient texts, mystical artifacts. Things we’ll need examined on the spot.” There was a moment of silence as Ethan absorbed that thought. “Oz’s bracelet can also trigger your explosive device, so no funny stuff if you want to keep your spell-casting arm. This is the big one. Most of you aren’t conscripts, so if you want out, the door’s open.”
Ethan raised his hand. “Not you,” said Riley. No one else budged, although Amy looked pensive. “Right. OK, we meet here at 8 a.m. tomorrow, and move on from there.” We’ve put files together for you, the best we can. Study them, and get some rest.”
Riley stood up and slowly examined the rag-tag team, and made a smile that seemed less happy than Oz imagined it was meant to be.
“We can win this,” said Riley. “We have to.”
The team dispersed back to their quarters, with a temporary room being arranged for Amy. Oz lingered a bit behind, looking at the hastily put together files. One had a picture of Willow clipped to it. It was her senior picture. Oz had a copy of it himself in his wallet.
“You miss her,” said Justine, from behind him. Oz didn’t usually get snuck up on. He (continued...)
