All that sex appeal could make my head burst, Karl. Have you no compassion? That could be a force to bring Osama out of the mountains, but did they try that? No, just right for the missiles.

Victor -- I am so confused.

My own fuzzy-headedness at fault - why didn't I guess that Wes was the First?

My own fuzzy-headedness at fault - why didn't I guess that Wes was the First?

You mean, when he's introduced in a chapter called "Hide in Plain Sight?"

I don't remember the chapter titles.

Yes. I'm dumb.

Yes. I'm dumb.

No you're not. I just worked really, really hard to blindside people.

Did it work? And more importantly, did it work in a way that doesn't seem forced? I know there's still lingering questions there--we'll get to them, I promise, but does the real Wesley's reveal make sense?

Okay, I really really want to reread in a format that is not on-line. But I think it did.

Okay, I really really want to reread in a format that is not on-line.

I was joking earlier about finding an artist and making it a demo-comic book.

But I think it did.

Good enough. I'll tie up the loose ends on that, soon.

Part Thirty-eight: New World Order

“You’re pretty good for an old guy,” said Faith, dodging Doc’s sword. They were winning—Connor’s fist landed on Xander’s face, knocking him unconscious, and Angel’s son was already spinning to help Faith. Doc was holding his own—she was stronger, but he was definitely faster—but there was no way he could take both of them.

“You’re not so bad, either,” said Doc, genially. “For a puppy.”

“You calling me a dog,” said Faith, her fist colliding with his head. “Cause that just pisses me off.”

Doc was faltering, staggering backward.

“I assure you, young lady,” he said. “I meant nothing of the sort.”

“Well good,” said Faith, closing in for the coup de grace, “because then I’d have to get testy.”

Faith froze, unable to move forward, and an unearthly light began to emanate from Doc’s skin. She blinked, and he was gone.

“Well,” said Doc’s voice near her ear. “I’d hate to have that.”

Faith felt a blow against her skull, and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground.

“Now, then,” said a familiar voice. “Get the slayer out of the way, and let’s finish this.”

Faith looked up, and Wesley was walking toward them, his eyes near alight with manic energy.

“Wes,” said Faith. “What are you…”

“That’s not Wesley,” said Dawn, from nearby. Faith had forgotten she was there.

“Very astute,” said Wesley. “No, I’m afraid I’m not. Very astute. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is dead.”

“The First,” said Faith, under her breath. “Ah, man. This just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, yes,” said another voice, also English.

“Ethan Rayne,” said Dawn, as the aging sorcerer strode behind the First. “I thought you were on Oz’s team?”

“Really, now,” said Ethan, “Does that seem likely?”

“No, it really doesn’t,” said a woman’s voice, and even though Faith couldn’t lift her body from the ground to move, she could feel the chill in his voice as Connor spoke her name.

“Lilah.”

“And it’s good to see you, too, boy wonder. Tell me, have you heard from Batman lately? Oh, wait, no. He’d dead.”

“Trapped in a now-destroyed time pocket, along with the best of you,” said the First, still wearing Wesley’s face. “The real slayer, that insipid werewolf—all gone. Illyria's power is now flowing fully into Doc. The rest of you will be hunted down and reconverted into slaves.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Dawn, defiance growing in her voice. “And Connor and I get to be sacrifices, we heard it the first time.”

“Sacrifices,” said Lilah, her voice a purr. “Doc, you didn’t explain this deal fully, did you?”

“I have to confess, I didn’t.” said Doc. “You see, kid, Connor gets to be a sacrifice. You get to be the new host for the Beast.”

“Everybody gets to be a part of the New World Order,” said the First. “And there’s no one left to save you.”

And from somewhere nearby, barely audible, Faith could have sworn she heard a giggle.

Part Thirty-nine: Gathering thunder

Giles watched as Amy and Justine burned. The energy was now ripping through their bodies. There was no way they could hold it together.

Willow rose shakily to her feet, blood still spilling from her torso. Giles moved to stop her, but she waved her hand and shot him a look that practically commanded that he stay back.

The young witch turned her attention to the two young women disintegrating before them. A look of resolve settled on her face, her, eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. Tentatively, she reached her hand into the vortex, and the current began to pulse through her, too. Her hair transformed from red to shock white as the blue wave pulsed through her body. She reached in further, grabbing Amy and Justine’s hands.

There was a blinding flash of light, and suddenly, the three women were gone, replaced by Oz.

“Daniel?” said Giles, stuttering mildly. “But Willow … Amy…”

“Yeah, I know,” said Oz, his face stoic and unreadable. “We have to get out of here. We’ve all been had. There’s a new plan.”

Thunder cracked across the sky of the once-silent city, and Giles followed Oz as he hurried out of the room and into the stone streets.

Giles looked up, and the sky now seemed on fire. Above them, a dragon flew, casting its shadow across the dead city. In the distance, they could hear the sounds of a million monstrous feet marching.

Oz stopped, as if listening to something in the distance, but Giles could hear nothing over the cacophony.

“This is it,” said Oz, a low growl building in his voice. “This is the final battle.”

His face began to contort, his bones bent as he allowed the wolf to come forward.

“Daniel… Oz…”

“It’s time to show them what we’re really made of,” said Oz, before his voice was lost all together beneath a lupine howl, and the wolf sprinted to greet the thunder growing in the distance, Giles hurrying behind.

Oh, the happy. McTabby eviscerates another set of fanfic loglines. [link]

A mysterious girl crashes into Hogwarts and the trio try to piece the scant clues together to find out who she is.

Drinny, with mentions of Harmy and Rona.

Five years after the final battle, Harry is the star cellist of the London Philharmonic.