Go TeamC/A
Title: Salvage
Author: Liam
Posted here: 08/05
Rating: R.
Category: Action
Content: C/A
Summary: When Cordelia returns, she bears disturbing news. Now, the shattered remnants of Angel Investigations must unite with the Scooby Gang to stop an assassin that can literally become anyone.
Spoilers: Salvage is a crossover between BtVS and Angel. It begins one week after the events of 'Tomorrow'
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes:
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Teaser
The PROUD MARY
Fishing Sloop
4 miles off the California coast
The storm had come out of nowhere and had left the Proud Mary and her crew of six fighting to stay afloat off the shores of Los Angeles. The Weather Channel was reporting activity resembling that of a Tropical Storm, but Captain James T. Barton didn't know that, nor did he care. He just wanted to make it home alive.
"Billy!" Barton shouted. The 21-year-old Billy Carpenter snapped to attention when his captain spoke. "Get out there and help Chris and Thomas pump water overboard! We take too much on and we could capsize!"
Billy nodded and strapped on his rubber raincoat. The boy opened the cabin door and was nearly knocked back by the strength of the winds. However, he braced himself against the doorframe, and then slowly fought his way to the manual pumps.
Barton stared out the cabin window as his crew fought to pump the water threatening to sink his small sloop. It was as if the wrath of God himself was bearing down on the vessel.
A bolt of lightning cracked loudly as it struck the center mast. The large section of wood shattered near the base and fell backwards. Barton cursed loudly as he broke down the cabin door to escape, only moments before the mast came crashing through.
The impact broke the back of the small ship, causing water to flow freely into the compartments below. With the damage that was inflicted, it took less than five minutes for the ship to break apart. The Proud Mary and all six onboard sunk slowly to the sea bottom.***
USS Portsmouth
Sonar Reconnaissance Vessel
Two days later
"Seaman, report," Commander James Ellis ordered.
"We'll be able to triangulate the signals in a moments, sir," Seaman Johnson answered. He pressed the headphones tighter to his ear to listen. "Sonar buoys are pinging, sir. I'm triangulating the signals now. Sonar, contact, bearing two-one-zero at 700 yards, sir. It looks to be the Proud Mary."
Ellis snorted in amusement. "Who the hell names a boat Proud Mary? Might as well call it Born on the Bayou." Ellis turned to another seaman. "Go down and talk to Hackett. Tell him to get Betty ready for deployment."
The seaman saluted and trotted off. Now they would just have to see if it was really her.
Part 1USS Portsmouth
Sonar Reconnaissance Vessel
Henry "Big Bubba" Hackett was a very large Georgia boy. At nearly six and one-half feet, he was the most imposing man on the ship, as well as one of the most intelligent. The Georgia Tech grad had found a quick niche in the Navy, and this was it.
Commander James Ellis peered over Hackett's shoulder at the television monitors and the controller that the seaman was using to control 'Betty'. Betty was a 5 foot long unmanned submarine used for deep-sea photography. Equipped with the best that MIT had to offer, including the finest night vision cameras in the world, Betty was very good at what it was designed for.
"What have you got Bubba?" Ellis asked
Bubba took a moment to scratch his chin with one of his large paws before answering. "Betty should be coming up on the Proud Mary shortly, sir." Hackett maneuvered the joystick and flipped a button to turn on the high-density lights on the sub.
"I got contact!" Bubba shouted happily. Betty's lights flickered on what used to be the hull of the Proud Mary.
"See if you can find any bodies, Seaman," Ellis ordered gently. "I'm sure the families would appreciate it if we could find something."
Hackett nodded and continued to maneuver Betty around the wreckage. Suddenly, he found something that shouldn't have been at the wreckage of a fishing sloop.
"Sir?" Bubba asked. "What the hell is that?"
Ellis stared hard at the monitors. On screen appeared a large metal box, about seven feet long and three feet wide. "I'm not quite sure, sailor. Maybe a storage container of some sort."
"I don't know, sir," Bubba said doubtfully. "That isn't like any storage container I've ever seen. It looks kind of like a.coffin."
Ellis had to agree. He reached to the console before him and grabbed the phone. "Ensign Buckner? Prepare the wench for deployment. We're going fishing."***
Sunnydale, California
The same day
Rupert Giles flipped through the Internet version of the Los Angeles Times with little interest. It was a way to kill time until he would have another "session" with Willow. For the past week, Giles had been having informal psychiatric sessions with the wayward Wicca. Progress was being made, as Willow had repeatedly apologized for her actions. But more time was needed, and Giles would stay as long as he needed.
Giles was flipping through the web pages so mindlessly, he almost missed the small article about a missing local woman. Giles perked immediately when he saw who the person was.
"Hello Giles," Willow spoke softly as she entered the Magic Box. "Are you ready for our talk?"
Giles barely heard Willow speak, but he still offered a response. "Willow, we may need to postpone. Would you be as kind as to call Buffy? Tell her I need to see her immediately."
Willow looked confused but did as she was told. Giles, meanwhile, stared at the computer screen stating that Cordelia Chase had gone missing over a week earlier.***
Santa Monica, California
That Night
In the alley between Frederick's of Hollywood and Starbucks, Joe Drury slumped against a dumpster, munching on a sandwich that had been thrown away and sipping on a paper bag covered bottle of raspberry wine. This was the homeless man's favorite spot. There was almost always food to be had, and if he were careful, he could spy on pretty ladies trying on lingerie.
Joe took a long swig of his wine when electricity seemed to crackle in the alleyway. Joe set aside his bottle, wondering if perhaps he had too much to drink. He stared as a bright circle opened up above the street. The light it gave off turned the alley into day as energy continued to crackle.
It was then that an audible 'Boom' was heard, and from the circle dropped a person. Clad in a white flowing dress, the woman dropped with a thud to the concrete below. Joe grabbed his wine bottle and shattered it against the dumpster, deciding enough was enough.
"I shoulda stayed in Tucson," Joe muttered.***
Several crewmembers were sent to help pull the object over the railing as the wench brought it up. The men grabbed hold and helped maneuver the large steel box to a suitable resting place on the deck.
It was Seaman Alexander McGraw that first saw what was inside.
"Holy shit!" he screamed.
His fellow crewmembers broke out in laughter as the 18 year old jumped back away from the container. They did, that is, until they saw what was inside the container.
"Get the Commander," Lieutenant Commander Chris Henderson ordered. "Get the Commander now!"***
Santa Monica
Independence Avenue
Police car 54 cruised through the nighttime streets of Santa Monica, not expecting much excitement of any kind. Officers Linda Welker and Steven Richards were used to the boring nightshift, and in their two-year partnership, had found several ways and places to kill time.
"I think I'm going to try a blueberry fritter next time," Linda said. She reached into the donut bag and handed Steven a Danish wrapped in a napkin. Steven took one hand off the steering wheel to accept the pastry. Linda then grabbed her chocolate covered, strawberry jam filled donut and munched contently.
"I've heard those are pretty good," Steven said. "But you know what's great? The ones where they spread caramel and chocolate all over it."
"Oh yeah!" Linda agreed. "Those are heaven." She was about to continue when she spotted something in the center of the avenue. "Hey Steven? What's that up ahead?"
Steven strained to look ahead, but as the car continued to move closer, it became clear what it was. "Oh great," he muttered. "All we need is some crazy person walking in the center of traffic. There's gonna be a mountain of paperwork for this."
"Not if we just dump her off at the psych ward. They can handle that shit," Linda said. "Pull over and we'll pick her up."
Steven pulled ahead of the woman in the flowing white dress and came to a stop. Both officers then got out and approached the woman with caution. "Ma'am?" Steven spoke. "Why are you walking in the center of a busy street?"
The woman stared ahead vacantly and continued walking until Steven blocked her path. "Ma'am?" he repeated. "We would like you to come with us."
Steven reached out and gently laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. The woman's head instantly snapped around to glare distantly at the obstruction. It was as if she stared directly at him, but there was no understanding. It was then that the woman released the most ear-shattering scream that either officer had ever heard.
"Uh, Linda?" Steven said.
"Yeah?"
"Can you call for backup?"***
Los Angeles County Morgue
Same Night
"What the hell is this?" Rebecca Maxwell asked of the two medics. The men deposited a body bag on her table and unzipped it to reveal a sopping wet body.
"The Navy found him underwater at the wreckage site of that fishing sloop that sunk a few days back," one of the medics informed her.
"He's one of the crew?" the young pathologist asked surprised.
"No," the medic said mysteriously. "They found him in an iron coffin near the wreckage."
"Really? Sounds like mob work to me," Maxwell stated.
"Well, maybe you'll figure out for sure when you slice and dice the stiff. Have fun."
Maxwell huffed in annoyance at the prospect of yet another late night job as the medics left. "Mom wanted you to be a teacher," Rebecca muttered. "Wanted you to marry that nice Wilkerson boy. Instead, you're cutting up corpses at two in the morning and Bobby Wilkerson married the goddamn prom queen. Life's a bitch."
Rebecca grabbed a pair of latex gloves and prepared to do the external evaluation.***
Sunnydale, California
"Why wouldn't Angel call?" Buffy asked confused. "Doesn't Cordelia still work for him?"
"The last that I heard she did," Giles said.
"Maybe he doesn't really care," Xander offered. The looks he received made him say, "What? It's a possibility."
"Whatever the reason, I think that you and Buffy should go to Los Angeles and offer whatever help may be needed," Giles said. He stopped Xander before he could protest. "I'm not saying that you should become drinking buddies with Angel, I'm saying you should offer your help."
"I agree," Buffy said. "It may be Cordelia we're talking about, but it's still the right thing to do. If it's okay, I'd like to take Dawn with us. After everything that's happened, I think she's earned the right to start helping out with business."
"Very well," Giles said. "I shall stay here with Willow. I don't think she is quite ready to deal with any strenuous ordeals quite yet. There is still much work to be done. But you will call if more help is needed."
Buffy and Xander agreed. They soon headed home to pack their bags. In the morning, they would be off to Los Angeles.***
Los Angeles
Warehouse
Clark and Addison Streets
"Time for a shift change, Pete."
Pete sighed in relief. "About damn time," he grinned. "These 12 hour shifts are a real bitch."
"Tell me about. Listen, there's a few pieces of a large pizza with the works downstairs in the fridge. Help yourself to it."
"Thanks Allen. I am pretty hungry."
Pete stood up from his position behind the desk outside of Michelson's office. As Allen took the vacated seat, the bulges beneath both men's coats revealed that neither were men to mess with.
"Quiet day?" Allen asked.
"Yeah. A couple of hack psychics came in earlier. They think just because they can guess a couple cards right once in a while, that's qualification enough to work for us." Pete grabbed his newspaper and prepared to leave. "Wait, do you want the paper?" He held up a copy of the Times.
"Nah, done read it. Have a nice night. Say hello to Claire for me."
"Sure will." Pete smiled and waved goodbye before exiting the outer office. That left Allen alone.
As soon as Pete was gone, Allen was on his feet and heading for Michelson's door. Reaching to his belt, he grabbed his Beretta. From his pocket he pulled a silencer and screwed it onto the barrel. He then threw open the door, revealing a very startled Michelson.
"What's the meaning of this Allen?" the aging Vornack demon exclaimed. "It' s not polite to enter a room without knocking."
"It's not polite to do this either." Allen raised the silenced pistol and placed a single bullet between Michelson's eyes. The Vornack slumped in his seat, blood spilling from the hole in his head. Allen holstered his pistol and left.***
Pete reached into the refrigerator and grabbed the Domino's box. "Yummy," he said, lifting a single slice from the box. He chewed on his slice and carried the box over to the island counter in the center of the kitchen to have a seat.
Pete ate contently until he felt his foot becoming damp. Confused, he bent below the counter and noticed something red seeping from a cabinet onto his shoe.
"What the fuck?" he muttered. He opened the cabinet to find something horrible. "Oh shit!" Pete raced to the kitchen door and yanked hard on the alarm. Sirens wailing broke the silence of the previously still warehouse. He grabbed the emergency phone beside the alarm.
"Security!" he screamed. "Get up to the Regent's office now! He's in danger! Seal the building! Allen Parson is dead! A shape-shifter took his place! What? Oh my God." A shocked Pete dropped the phone and slid to the ground. Allen Parson just walked past security moments earlier.***
The muscled, dark blonde form of Allen Parson grinned as he climbed into his car just outside the warehouse. As he put the key in the ignition, the figure morphed into a leaner, dark haired man.
"Ramius," he whispered to himself. "You are too good."
He threw the car into gear and zipped down the street as the first security personnel poured onto the street. They could only watch the taillights fade into the misty night.
Part 2Los Angeles County Morgue
Rebecca Maxwell pulled the latex gloves off with an audible snap and tossed them into the wastebasket. Walking across the tiled floor, her heels clicking loudly, Rebecca grabbed her tape recorder.
“It is now 3:11 AM. I have just completed the external evaluation of subject John Doe. After a thorough exam, I have been able to reach several conclusions. First, there are multiple bruises on the victim’s chest and side. These bruises seem consistent with a cattle prod, or some other electrical taser device.
“There is no sign of head trauma, leading me to believe that Doe was approached by someone he was familiar with and was then shocked. Examination of the victim’s fingers and nails reveals injuries consistent with trying to claw his way from some sort of entrapment.
“For the moment, I would have to state that the cause of death is asphyxia due to water inhalation. Evaluation of the victim’s lungs during an internal exam may be able to support my conclusion. It is now 3:16 AM, and I am preparing to begin the autopsy of John Doe.”
Maxwell clicked off her recorder and reached for a fresh pair of gloves. “Time to slice and dice,” she muttered as she snapped on the latex. She walked back to the examination table and tossed aside the blanket covering him. “This dude didn’t have anything to be ashamed of,” she said, noticing a certain appendage.
Maxwell grabbed a scalpel from her supply table and prepared to make the Y-incision. As the blade near the sternum, the body’s eyes snapped open, and his right hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Maxwell’s heart literally skipped a beat.
“I don’t think you should do that,” the body said.***
Greenwood Psychiatric Facility
Los Angeles, California
“He’s coming!” the woman in the flowing robes screamed. “He’s coming to kill them!”
“Nurse! Administer 20 cc’s of Clorazepate!” Doctor Fox yelled
“I already have!” Nurse Crier shouted back.
“Well give her more!” The doctor turned his attention back to the convulsing woman. “Watch out!” Fox jerked back as the woman flicked her arm and sent the male nurse holding her flying. The woman grabbed the nurse holding her other arm and tossed him as well.
“This is bad,” Crier said.
“No shit! Will somebody help detain her?”
Officer Linda Welker and several nurses rushed the woman in an attempt to subdue her. It took six of them, but they finally pinned the woman against the padded wall. “Bare her arm!”
Fox took a syringe and jabbed it into the meat of the woman’s right arm. The woman kicked and screamed for several long moments, but the extra tranquilizer seemed to finally subdue her. She slumped against the orderlies and nurses in a deep, drug induced slumber.
“This is one strong broad,” an orderly commented.
“Too strong,” Fox commented. “Nurse Crier, I want a full blood workup on this woman. Complete toxicology screen, got it?” Fox turned to Officer Welker and led her outside the room. “Where did you find this woman?”
“Santa Monica, Doctor. My partner and I found her walking in the center of a busy highway. We confronted her and asked her to come with us. She seemed vacant, not understanding.”
“I see,” Fox said. “Where is your partner? I’d like to speak with him.”
Welker stopped and stared Fox in the eyes. “He’s at Mercy Cross Hospital. Miss Jane Doe in there didn’t like it when he touched her shoulder. She responded by ripping his out of socket. You think she might be one drugs?”
“Possibly,” Fox answered. “Maybe some sort of amphetamine. Any idea who she is?”
“We’re running her prints down at the precinct. Hopefully we can get a match. If you don’t mind, I’d like to head back to the hospital.”
“Of course, Officer. See how your partner is faring.” Welker nodded and walked off, leaving Fox alone to stare at the room containing the Jane Doe. “Maybe we can figure out who you are.”***
Hyperion Hotel
Los Angeles, California
“Charles? Did you find that expense report for when we exterminated that nest of Krayock demons a few months back?”
“Yeah, Cordelia had it filed under ‘M’ for some reason.” Gunn tossed the manila folder in Fred’s direction. Fred took the folder and immediately understood Cordelia’s reasoning.
“Oh, remember? Cordelia said the owner of the apartment that they invested was a moron.”
“She filed it under ‘M’ for moron?” Charles asked incredulously. Gunn tossed aside the couple dozen files he was sorting in frustration. “That is it! I’ve had enough trying to organize this Cordy-logic.”
“Angel didn’t have any trouble with it,” Fred pointed out.
“That’s different. Angel’s in love with her. Of course he’ll understand it.”
“You understand my logic.”
“That’s because I’m in lo…” Gunn grinned as he realized what he was about to say, his smile widening even further at Fred’s blushing. “Well, you know.”
“Is anyone here?” a voice cried out from the lobby.
Gunn and Fred bolted up from the floor to find a small blonde flanked by a dark haired man and a young brunette girl.
“Somebody is here,” Gunn answered. “If you’re looking for Angel Investigations, you’ve found it, but where not really taking clients at the time. If you’re needing assistance, check your local police department or another investigative agency, but we can’t help you.”
The blonde was definitely the leader, Gunn realized. She didn’t hesitate to approach him, while the other two hung back. “Actually, we’re here to help you. That’s Xander Harris and my sister Dawn,” she said pointing to her cohorts. “I’m Buffy Summers.”
“Okay,” Gunn said, not realizing what that meant until a moment later. “You mean one half of the twisted Sunnydale production of Romeo and Juliet? That Buffy Summers?”
Buffy stared blankly at Gunn for a moment. “Yeah, and you are?”
“Charles Gunn and Fred Burkle,” he answered. “Can I ask what the hell you are doing here?”
“We came to see if we could help. We saw on the Internet that Cordelia was missing and thought maybe our services were needed.”
“They’re not,” Gunn said coldly. “This is a family matter. It doesn’t concern you.”
“Charles,” Fred pleaded.
“No,” Gunn said, turning back to his girlfriend. “They have no reason to be here. Besides, what would Angel say? You think he would want them here?”
Fred knew the answer to that. In her year at Angel Investigations, she had learned that Angel and Cordelia had little in common with their Sunnydale associates. Neither would really care for them to be here.
“And where is tall, dark, and broody?” Xander quipped.
“He’s right here.”
From the basement emerged a thinner and obviously fatigued Angel. The vampire scuffled across the lobby clad in ill-fitting green hospital scrubs. “Honey, I’m home.”
“Angel!” Fred cried. Both she and Gunn rushed over to the vampire, who collapsed in the floor in a heap of exhaustion. “Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you.” Fred latched onto Angel and hugged him with all her might.
“I decided to tour the world’s great bodies of water,” Angel joked. “I just never got past the Pacific.” Angel peered around the hotel and found something very important was missing. “Where’s Cor?” he asked.
“You don’t know?” Gunn asked in turn. “That’s bad.”
“What’s bad?” Fear was making itself well known in Angel’s mind. “Where is Cordelia?”
“We hoped that she was with you,” Fred explained. “After all, you two were supposed to meet.”
“That didn’t happen. You mean to tell me that Cordelia has been missing for…?”
“A week,” Gunn finished. “We filed a missing person report with the police, and we’ve talk to all our contacts, but we haven’t found anything. All we know is that her jeep was found on the highway.”
“I’ve tapped into police, hospital, and…morgue databases to let us know when someone of Cordy’s description is found,” Fred told him.
“Angel, what happened when you went to meet Cordelia?” Gunn asked.
“It’s a long story, and not all that important. We need to find Cordelia.”
“Um, which brings us back to why we’re here,” Buffy interjected.
The Fang Gang jumped when she spoke, all having forgotten that they were even in the hotel. “And I’ll appreciate you all so much more if you weren’t here,” Angel snapped. It was then that he noticed Dawn for the first time. “Wow. You’ve grown.”
Everyone snapped to attention as Fred’s laptop began to beep furiously. The girl rushed over and clicked the incoming message. “I’ve got a hit! Greenwood Psychiatric just filed a report on a Jane Doe matching Cordelia’s description.”
“You strong enough to go down there?” Gunn asked. Angel was on his feet long before Gunn finished the sentence.
“Just let me get some real clothes on,” Angel said. “I think the morgue burned mine or something.” Angel used his reservoir of vampire strength to burst up the stairs to change. Gunn hustled off to retrieve the car keys while Fred scribbled down the information.
“Did he say morgue?” Dawn asked.
Part 3Greenwood Psychiatric Facility
Los Angeles, California
The receptionist jumped in her seat as six people stormed the entrance. A good-looking man in black jeans and a tight blue sweater took the lead and made a beeline for her desk.
“Can I help you, sir?” the receptionist asked.
“You had a Jane Doe brought it, correct?” The receptionist gulped in acknowledgement. “Let me see her.”
“Excuse me,” Doctor Fox said as he stepped from his office. “What is this all about?”
Angel turned to face the doctor. “I want to see this Jane Doe that was brought in. I may know her.”
“And what would your relationship to her be?” The doctor was wary of this man that seemed ready to snap.
“I’m her husband,” he said without hesitation. “My name is Angel Chase and she would be Cordelia.”
The doctor could feel the concern radiating from the man, and deciding not to question the statement. “Follow me then.” Fox turned and led the group through the sterile halls of the facility. But no amount of antiseptic could mask the smell that was Cordelia. Like everything else about her, it stood out above all else.
At the end of the hallway the doctor used a keycard to swipe a door open. Pushing it open, the gang was shocked to find a disheveled Cordelia huddled in a padded corner, a vacant look in her eyes as she stared off into a far away place.
“Cor?” Angel whispered. He bolted over to his Seer, Gunn and Fred right on his heels. Buffy, Xander, and Dawn stepped inside, but kept their distance from the reunion. In just the hour that they had been in Los Angeles, they learned quite quickly that they had no place here.
“Cor? Sweetie? Talk to me, please,” Angel begged. His head snapped around to glare at the doctor. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Honestly?” Fox asked. “I have no idea. Police found her walking a busy Santa Monica street. She was incoherent and reacted violently to physical contact. She ripped a cop’s shoulder out of socket and gave several of my orderlies’ concussions. Once we left her alone, she seemed to go into a catatonic state.”
Angel chanced stroking Cordelia’s cheek, and was pleasantly surprised when she actually seemed to lean into it. The vampire leaned in close so that he could whisper in her ear. “Hold tight, Cor. I’m going to make this all better. I promise.” In a gesture that surprised not only him, but the other five who knew him, Angel kissed her softly on the lips before standing
“I want to take her home,” Angel stated firmly.
“I’m sorry,” Fox apologized sincerely. “But I’m afraid that I can’t release her. I hope you understand that, but I want more time to examine her. I can’t release her just yet, not until I’m sure she won’t react violently to someone else.”
Fox would have been headless and his body spurting blood if Angel had his way, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing anything stupid. Angel silently thanked Fred for being a rational mind.
“Okay, Doctor,” Angel relented. “But may I visit her again?”
“Of course. Just speak with our receptionist. She’ll give you a pass that will allow you access whenever you wish.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Angel had actually calmed enough to shake his hand. “Do you have a phone that I could borrow for a moment? I want to call her family.”
“Just ask the receptionist. I’m sure she’ll let you use the phone.”
Angel nodded slightly and cast a long, lingering look to Cordelia. His Seer stared off vacantly, and it hurt him more than he could have imagined. He then led the group out of the room. “They’re not going to find anything wrong with her,” Angel stated confidently.
“How do you know?” Buffy asked. She was as confused as her cohorts as to what was going on. Things had changed, the man before her certainly wasn’t the person she remembered. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know, but it isn’t natural. Whatever caused her to be like that is supernatural. Buffy? Do you know a way I can reach Giles?”
“Yeah, he should be at the Magic Box. The number is 555-1983”
Angel turned on the charms and got the receptionist to relinquish the phone. He quickly punched in the number, and three rings later, reached the man he wanted to talk to.
“Giles? It’s Angel.”
The Watcher was pulled away from his talk with Willow, and was more than slightly surprised to speak with the vampire. “What can I do for you? Have you located Cordelia?”
“I have,” Angel affirmed. “Listen, I need your knowledge. She was taken to a psychiatric hospital and they’re trying to treat her for catatonia. I just saw her, and she smells strongly of the Powers. She’s unresponsive and the doctor said she reacted violently to intrusion.”
“The Powers you say?” Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, why?”
“What you described sounds remarkably like Semele Syndrome.”
“Semele Syndrome? Like the Greek myth?”
“Yes it’s…”
“Oh, I know what it is,” Angel said. “I’ve just never seen it before.”
“That’s because it’s an extremely rare occurrence. A being has a close encounter with a divine entity and sees the true face of a higher power. The being is sent into a catatonic or comatose state from the shock and awe of the encounter. The few recorded instances in the Watcher Diaries of a human encountering a true divinity has left them dead. Only demons have been reported to survive the incident. If it really is Semele Syndrome, it’s surprising that Cordelia is even alive.”
Angel laughed nervously at that. “Well, since when has Cordelia ever felt the need to follow the tradition of things? You know her, always doing it her own way.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” Giles chuckled slightly.
“Is there anything I can do to make her snap out of it?”
“Do you have a copy of Hoffstrom’s book? I believe it’s called ‘Psychosis of the Paranormal’.”
“I think so,” Angel answered.
“Good. There’s a section in there. It gives thorough instructions on how to concoct a serum that can be used to give the neurons a kick start. If you can administer a dosage to her, it should revive her from the catatonia within minutes.”
Angel breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” Giles said. “If there is anything further, please call. Oh, by the way, has Buffy arrived?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Well then. I sent her to offer her services in helping locate Cordelia, but apparently they are no longer needed.”
Angel grunted in response, a sound that Giles vaguely thought could have been an agreement. “Well, again, thank you. I’ll be sure to call if we need help.” Angel hung up the phone before Giles could utter another word.
“So, what did he say?” Gunn asked.
“He said we could fix her. Fred, do you remember seeing a copy of ‘Psychosis of the Paranormal’ around the office?”
“Yeah, Wesley had a copy in a box down in the basement.”
“Is there anything that we can do?” Buffy asked.
“You’re not really married to Cordelia right?” Xander asked. “Because that makes me wanna say ‘eww’.”
“She was prettier as a brunette,” Dawn said vaguely.
“I dunno,” Angel said in response to Dawn. “Cor could look good with electric blue hair. And no, I’m not married to Cordelia, and there would be nothing ‘eww’ about that idea. And finally, you could all help by going home to Sunnydale.”
That was it, Buffy decided. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped. “Ever since we got here, you and your crew having been trying to get rid of us. All we wanted was to come out and help you find Cordelia.”
“Actually, Dawn and I hoped a visit to Disneyland was in the cards,” Xander interjected.
“Xander!” Angel and Buffy snapped. “Shut up!”
“Listen,” Angel said. “This is a family matter. You don’t see us sticking our noses in your business. We found Cor, we’ll give her the serum that can fix her, and it’s done. Then we can all try to rebuild our lives.”
Buffy crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes slightly. Angel groaned inwardly, knowing he just did something stupid. He pushed too hard, and now she would be stubborn.
“We’ll stay long enough to see that Cordelia recovers. Who knows, maybe there will be a demon or something you could need help with.”
The tone was clear. There would be no arguing with her. And frankly, Angel was far too tired to argue. He wanted to get some rest, work on the serum, and then get his Cordelia back.
“Fine. We have some spare rooms. You can stay a day or two.” Angel said nothing more for the rest of the evening. When they arrived at the hotel, he immediately headed to the room Cordelia sometimes used, leaving Fred and Gunn to gather the ingredients to make the serum. The Scoobies steered clear, or else suffer the wrath of Fred Burkle for getting in the way of saving Cordelia.***
Wolfram and Hart
Office of Gregory Harrison
The doors to Harrison’s office were thrown open, revealing a tall dark haired man. Harrison glanced up at the intrusion calmly. “Hello Ramius,” he greeted. “How are you?” Harrison reached underneath the desk and tapped the security button.
“Don’t bother calling for the guards,” Ramius said harshly. He disappeared out the door for a moment. Returning, he tossed the body of a Wolfram and Hart security officer to the floor. A hole in the center of his head oozed blood.
“As for how I’m doing,” Ramius continued. “Frankly, I’m fairly pissed off. You betrayed me, Gregory. And I don’t respond well to betrayal.”
“I’m sorry,” Harrison mocked. “But you were becoming a liability. We had to get rid of you.”
Ramius swatted a vase resting on a small table, shattering the pottery against the wall. “Did you really think you could rid yourself of me? You should have known I would come for vengeance. You cost me my job, and you cost me a shitload of money.”
“Wrong,” Harrison snapped. “You cost yourself that job, but yes, we did screw you out of a pretty penny. But don’t worry, that money was put towards a very good escort with exceptional oral skills.”
“Well, I’m glad you thought it worth it.” Ramius jerked his silenced pistol from its holster. Two quick shots to the head ended Harrison’s life. “Personally, I would have thought the price too steep.”
Ramius holstered his weapon and shifted into the form of a security guard. He glanced around the room calmly, running a hand through his hair. Ramius was able to leave the building without a confrontation.
Part 4“The rest of your gang didn’t come?” Doctor Fox asked as he swiped the keycard to Cordelia’s room.
“Nope, just Fred and me,” Angel answered. The vampire ushered Fred into the room, and his body posture indicated clearly that Fox was not invited to do the same. Fox wasn’t put off by it, he just chalked it up as a man wanting to be alone with his wife.
Fox went off to make his rounds. Angel shut the door and peered out the small window to make sure he was gone. “All clear. Give it to her.”
Fred reached into her jacket pocket and removed a syringe with a light brown liquid. It had taken most of the night, and numerous raids to various Los Angeles herbalist shops to finally track down all the components for the neuro-stimulant. There were a few extremely hard to find herbs that were included in the recipe, as well as a few other things. Cordelia would certainly have a fit if she knew she had Cragnoc juice in her veins. Of course, she’d have to find out what a Cragnoc was first.
“I hope this works,” Fred said as she plunged the needle into Cordy’s arm.
“It will,” Angel assured her.
The next couple minutes were the longest Angel had ever experienced in his two and one half centuries of existence. His ears focused on the clicking of his wristwatch as the seconds ticked away. When Cordelia blinked, a rush of air he didn’t even know he held was expelled.
Angel could tell the exact instant when she regained her senses. One moment her eyes stared ahead vacantly, the next, they were focused completely. She gasped for breath as if she had been underwater for hours.
“Cordy?” he asked.
“Angel?” she answered weakly. “Where am I?”
Before Cordelia knew what happened, she was the center of a ferocious group hug. Angel and Fred didn’t hesitate to grab on and let Cordelia know how much they missed her. “I guess you guys missed me?”
“Yeah, we did,” Angel admitted. He kissed her cheek gently, surprising his Seer immensely. “Where were you?”
“Receiving orders,” Cordelia said.***
Police Precinct 14
Los Angeles, California
“Detective Louis Anderson? How are you?”
Anderson had almost made it to his car in the parking garage when he heard that voice. The cold sweats began almost immediately, and when he turned, he found the one person he never wanted to see again.
“Ramius. How did you get in here?”
Ramius smiled coldly at the detective. “Access, Detective Anderson. It’s all about access.” Ramius walked calmly towards the detective, grinning all the way. “You see, up until a short time ago, I had access to just about any place that I wanted. But because of people like you, I had it all taken away. You cheated me, Detective. I don’t like to be cheated.”
Anderson’s hand dipped slowly down to his holster. He unfastened the strap holding his gun down and rested his hand on the grip.
“What’s the matter, Anderson?” Ramius taunted. “Are you afraid?” he drawled. “Perhaps you should be. Because I plan on making you pay for ever thinking you could fuck with me and get away with it.”
“I just did what they wanted,” Anderson defended. “It’s what the others decided on. I couldn’t go against it.”
“Of course not,” Ramius continued to taunt. “You just followed orders like a good little soldier. Guess what? Consider this your Nuremberg.”
Ramius pulled his silenced pistol from his holster so quickly, Anderson wasn’t even able to tighten his hold on his own. The stunned look on Anderson’s face as the bullet passed through his cerebrum gave Ramius great joy. Not as much as the several million dollars he was screwed out of could have given him, but he still received a happy.
“Three down, one to go,” Ramius muttered.***
Hyperion Hotel
“So, uh, Fred,” Buffy began. Fred barely looked up from a file concerning a Tigron demon. “I guess things have been pretty strange here lately.”
“They have,” Fred said simply.
Okay, Buffy thought. This girl didn’t seem to want to communicate. “I kinda get the impression that Cordelia wasn’t the only one who went MIA. Angel was gone for a while too, right?”
Fred failed to acknowledge the question, causing Gunn to shake his head in amusement. “Sweetie, I don’t think they would mind if we gave a yes or no to that question.”
Fred shook her head in embarrassment, realizing she had taken the code of silence thing a bit too seriously. “Yes, things have been strange, and yes, both Cordy and Angel went missing at the same time.”
“The police found Cordy’s jeep out on the interstate,” Gunn continued. “As for Angel, he hasn’t told what happened to him. Although we do have a good idea,” Gunn admitted.
“Oh yeah? What?”
”That’s one thing I don’t think he’d want us to tell.”
“You guys have a lot of secrets,” Buffy observed.
“Yup,” Gunn and Fred agreed.
Xander and Dawn stepped through the lobby, returning from their tour of the hotel. “So,” Xander started, “can you tell us what this big old pentagram on the floor is about, or is that another secret?”
“By the way,” Dawn added, “I think you got mice in the basement.”
Gunn shivered at the mention of the swishy tailed, beady-eyed vermin. “Yeah, about the pentagram. That’s what happens when you hire the wrong redecorator.” Gunn turned to his girlfriend. “I said hire Martha Stewart, but no, you said hire that nice B’nofren demon. He had a nice business card you said.”
“Well he did,” Fred said, getting into the joke. “Plus, any guy with a big horn like that is okay by me.”
“You said you didn’t look at his horn!” Gunn accused.
“I just took a peek,” Fred defended.
“Why did I even bother?” Buffy asked herself as the two lovebirds continued their mock argument.***
“So one minute I’m talking to Skip, the next I’m doing the whole heavenly ascension bit. Turns out the Powers said I’d outgrown this plane. They said there would be assignments for me elsewhere,” Cordelia explained.
“So why are you here?” Fred asked.
“The Powers didn’t count on Ramius.”
“Who’s Ramius?” Angel questioned.
“A shape shifter. He used to work for the Powers, but he was expelled because he was caught doing some bad things. Actually, he was ratted out doing some bad things. He was part of an illegal operation here on Earth. He and a few others were leading a drug running operation. They used secretions from Fratnon demons and sold it. Their business had connections all along the West Coast from San Diego to Vancouver.”
“Fratnon demon? I’ve never heard of them,” Fred stated.
“They’re small demons,” Angel explained, “only about two feet tall. The waste product they put out is similar to LSD, but far more addictive, and far more deadly. There was a vampire gang in Manhattan about twenty years ago that specialized in the trade.”
“There’s a moral to that story,” Cordy joked. “Don’t do drugs, because you could be shooting Fratnon urine. But back to my story, the Powers told me the identities of the beings involved. A local Powers representative, a Wolfram and Hart lawyer, Ramius, an LA cop, and a Congressman.”
“You were sent back to tell us about this?” Angel asked.
“Yes, but I think we might be too late. Something’s wrong, I can feel it. At least one of them is dead. I shouldn’t have insisted on a ‘face to face’ meeting with the Powers. I totally forgot about the possibility of Semele Syndrome. Did you give me the juice?”
“Yes,” Angel said astonished. “How the hell did you know about Semele Syndrome?”
Cordelia turned her best Valley Girl look on him. “Well, I’m not just a pretty face. I can read too. You’d be surprised at what I know. Oh, and I am so going to kick your ass for using Cragnoc juice. Don’t you know you can substitute that with extract from the sumac plant?”
Angel stared blankly at her a moment before grabbing her in another hug. “We’re going to have to talk about what you’re reading. It scares me when you come up with brilliant reasoning.”
“Bastard,” Cordelia muttered, although that didn’t prevent her from enjoying Angel’s display of affection. “How about springing me from this joint?”
“Oh crap!” Fred realized. “The doctors don’t know she’s awake.”
“Well then,” Angel said. “We need to make them aware of it. Fred, could you go get Doctor Fox?”
“Sure,” Fred agreed. She was out the door in moments to retrieve the doctor.
Angel turned back to Cordelia. “Now, tell me about this Ramius and these other four people.”***
Skylark Apartments
Los Angeles
“This is Kelly Winger of Channel 12 News. In three days, the Hilton Hotel behind me will play host to a Democratic Fundraising Campaign for the re-election of Congressman Harold Doyle. The four term congressman will be arriving at LAX sometime tomorrow in preparation of the fundraiser.”
Ramius leaned back in the rickety rocking chair and dug his fork into his bowl of Spanish rice. He chewed thoughtfully as he listened to the television news report.
“Preliminary polls show that Congressman Doyle’s popularity seems to be waning, thanks largely due to his failure to vote ‘yes’ on a bill that would have gone to reduce local air pollution. Also, the alleged affair with Washington DC elementary school teacher Debra Rodgers is fresh in the memory of voters.
“Polls are showing that Independent candidate Melissa Johnson seems to be gaining in recent weeks. When asked, a Doyle spokesperson seemed confident in the Congressman’s ability to gain re-election, calling Johnson ‘someone with big talk, but little planning’.”
“That’s smart, Harry,” Ramius mused. “Piss off the women voters.”
“This is Kelly Winger of Channel 12, asking you to stay tuned for the latest news on the Congressman’s return to LA.”
Part 5“Okay, so Cordelia got called up for a meeting with some universal big shots?” Xander began. “They tell her she’s outgrown this plane, and she’s got work elsewhere. But some shape shifting assassin that they just fired is on the loose killing off everyone that double crossed him?”
“Apparently,” Angel answered.
“Wow, that’s…impressive,” Dawn said.
“So he’s going after this Congressman Doyle? Why?” Gunn asked.
“Doyle was a member of the operation. The funds he received from selling the drugs went a long way to finance re-election campaigns,” Angel explained.
Fred continued with the story. “But without the drug money coming in, he has to get contributions the old fashioned way. That’s why he’s coming back to LA. The California Democratic Party is having a fundraiser for all its congressmen up for election this year.”
“Okay,” Buffy said. “This dude is getting revenge on those who screwed him. Fred looked online and found that Doyle is the only one still alive. Ramius is a major bad ass and a shapeshifter, so that brings us to the important point. How the hell do we recognize him? If he can take on any appearance, then how do we stop him?”
“Hecate’s Essence,” Angel said.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a powder consisting of various herbs. From what Cordelia tells me, it’s supposed to reveal a being’s true face. For a short time, Ramius would lose the ability to shape shift. About five minutes, Cordelia said.”
“But you can’t just go around spraying everyone with some powder,” Dawn pointed out. “Not without making people angry.”
“True,” Angel said. “So we’ll just have to use our instincts and senses to try and home in on the right man.”
“But how do we get close enough to even sense him?” Gunn asked.
“We’re going to the fundraiser.” Angel made the answer seem like it was obvious.
“Okay, call me crazy,” Xander said, “but don’t we need tickets or passes to get into an event like this?”
“We do,” Angel agreed. “Which is why I have a source wrangling up tickets for all of us.”
“Even me?” a surprised Dawn asked. “I get to go and help out?”
“This guy could be tough to stop,” Angel told her. “We might need all the help we can get.” Dawn grinned widely at the chance to finally be included in a mission, although she wondered if Buffy would object. But the reassuring look her sister gave made Dawn’s confidence grow.
“What about Cordelia?” Buffy asked. “When will she be released?”
“The doctors want to run some tests on her. So basically, if she acts like a good girl and behaves, she should be released tomorrow,” Angel said.
Gunn, Fred, and Angel all grinned at what the vampire just said. It was Gunn that asked the question. “So, uh, what you’re saying is that Cordelia’s freedom all depends on her cooperating and doing as she’s told?” The three of them broke out in laughter. “We’re not holding our breath on that, right?”
“Now Charles,” Fred giggled. “Cordelia is more than capable of acting like a mature adult when need be.” That comment only renewed the laughter.
“We missed something very important,” Xander stated.
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed. “Like the last three years.”***
Purple Crackle Bar
Los Angeles, California
Hannah Morse took a long sip of her red wine, hoping the liquor would loosen her up after a long day. She reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her business suit, glad to have the material off her neck.
“Hey Ralph,” she called out. The bartender turned around and smiled at Hannah. She waved her nearly empty glass. Ralph grabbed the bottle of red and filled her back up. “You’re a God, Ralph,” Hannah declared.
“Just remember that when it comes time to tip,” Ralph joked. A call from another patron sent him scurrying to take the order.
Hannah immediately took another sip from her drink, and then she removed a clip from her long blonde hair. “Need to loosen up,” she mumbled to herself.
“You know,” a voice said behind her, “studies have proven that alcohol is a poor way to relax. Most researchers agree that aerobic exercise is a far more effective stress remover.” The man sat next to the obviously amused Hannah.
“Is that right?” Hannah asked. The man nodded in confirmation. “Well, it’s a little late to be doing jumping jacks.”
“Maybe so,” the man commented as he ordered a beer. “But there are other activities that are great stress relief, activities that are much more engaging and enjoyable.”
Hannah grinned slyly at the man. “Are there now? How come I’ve never heard of these activities?”
“Maybe you’ve not joined the right gym,” he suggested. “Perhaps if you give me your name, I might be able to refer you to someone.”
“I’d appreciate that. My name is Hannah Morse.”
The man smiled at the name. “Hannah. Quite a lovely name.”
“Do you plan on telling me yours?”
“Ramius. John Ramius.”***
The Hyperion’s offices had basically been converted into a laboratory. Bunsen burners warmed glass beakers on metal stands. Various colored herbs were chopped up on the counters, and different powders in plastic bottles were littered about.
“Okay now,” Fred read. She was turned to chapter 17 of Fredrick Cooper’s book “Mystical Herbs: Effects on Demon Physiology”. “According to this, when we mix the Flava Weed and the Sumetran dust, it must be done slowly. If done improperly, it could result in…oh.”
“Oh?” Xander’s head shot up at that. He was currently chopping up some Flava Weed. “What oh? I don’t like oh. What happens with oh?”
Fred shrugged off the questions and set the book aside onto the counter. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t even know you did something wrong.”
Dawn reached over the counter and peered at the book. Her eyes widen in surprise at the diagram presented. “Oh,” she said. “Well, she’s right. You wouldn’t know.” The drawing certainly was…graphic.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Xander warned, “my confidence isn’t exactly being boosted here.”
“Xander, just cut the damn weed,” Buffy ordered.
“Fine,” Xander huffed. “But if I end up growing tentacles or something, there will be hell to pay.”
“Actually,” Dawn pointed out. “You wouldn’t have to worry about growing anything.”
The basement door swung open, and Angel appeared carrying an envelope. “I got them,” he said proudly. “Seven tickets to the Democratic Fundraiser. Hey Gunn, you remember Benny?”
“Benny?” Gunn thought for a moment. “You mean that Rhoner demon with the skin problem and the flippers?”
“Yeah. Turns out he has a cousin that lives underneath city hall. He was able to confiscate them for us.”
“You mean stole them?” an amused Buffy asked.
Angel cast a mock annoyed glance at her and sighed. “Stole is such a harsh word. Think of it as commandeering for a greater good.” He tossed the envelope to Fred. “How are we doing on making the stuff?”
“It looks like we have most of what we need,” Buffy said. “There are a few ingredients you didn’t have here. Stryner wine, Vogner root, and Peacock dust.”
“That’s no problem,” Angel said. “We can make a run to an herbalist shop later. There is still two days before the event, so there’s still time.”
“How can we be sure that Ramius will try to kill him at the fundraiser?” Dawn asked.
“From what Cordy said, Ramius is an arrogant man. The Powers think he will try to make a statement by killing him in full view of the public.”
“Well,” Buffy said. “Let’s finish this powder and make sure he doesn’t get the chance.” Everyone voiced their agreement and went back to work at preparing the ingredients.***
Hannah stepped from her shower blindly, her wet blonde hair covering her eyes. She gasped in surprise as another nude form pressed against her and began to towel her down. “You surprised me,” she said as she took the towel.
“Why?” Ramius grinned. “Because I’m in the bathroom with you, or because I didn’t leave as soon as we finished?”
“Both, actually,” Hannah smiled back. She dried her hair and then tossed the towel aside. She pulled Ramius close and the pair kissed passionately. “Mother would be so disappointed if she knew I brought a strange man home. She was pissed when I brought home that beagle pup when I was twelve.”
Ramius pulled back from Hannah’s embrace. The blonde woman gasped in surprise as the man before her morphed into…her.
“Perhaps I should go then,” Hannah’s voice spoke to her. The figure that used to be a man grabbed Hannah’s head and jerked, snapping her neck instantly. “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” the feminine voice said.
Ramius, still in Hannah’s form, dropped the body in a heap and turned back into the bedroom. Searching around, he found Hannah’s purse. He grabbed it and rooted around until he found what he wanted. It was an ID badge.
HANNAH MORSE
PRESS SECRETARY
DEMOCRATIC PARTY
LOS ANGELES BRANCH
“Sweetie,” the still feminine voice spoke. “You gave me the two things I needed. A good lay, and an invite to the party.”