Series: The Hellmouth Chronicles
Title: Winter Of Discontent 25/?
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Date: 5/31/03
Spoilers: AU from beginning of S5 on Buffy and end of S1 on Angel.
Summary: A great deal of sound and noise signifying very little, but hopefully it entertains.
Rating: PG-13 for one or two mentions of the love that dare not speak its name, blackmail, issues of severe loss.
Pairing: Buffy/Giles, W/T, X/Anya, C/Wes, Joyce/Crystal
Distribution: If you've had my permission in the past, you have it now. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.
Notes: See? Told you I'd try to get the next one out more quickly. And I did.

Cordelia stared at Wesley. Her brain couldn't seem to make any sense of the words he'd said.

"She's your *what*?" she demanded at last. "You never said you were married. God! For a while I didn't even think you were straight, and now you tell me all the time we've been together, you had a little woman waiting for you back in the old country? A woman who hasn't looked at a fashion magazine for about ten years, too. It's bad enough finding out I'm the other woman; it's inexcusable to find out I'm second place to...to...this fashion hermit!"

"Darling, please..." he began.

"Don't you dare call me that," she hissed, stabbing him in the chest with a perfectly manicured fingernail to emphasize each word. "You have no business calling me your anything after this."

"If you'll let me explain, I think we can clear up this misunderstanding," he said stiffly, but with authority. "I'm not married."

Cordelia stopped in her tracks and frowned in puzzlement.

"But you just said this was your wife." She pointed at the picture. "How can you have a wife and not be married?"

He looked sadly at the photograph, then at his girlfriend.

"I ought to have said my late wife," he told her quietly. "This was taken a few weeks before she died."

All the fight went out of Cordelia. She sat hard on the edge of the bed and shook her head.

"You...you mean...? I didn't know."

"Well, I hadn't precisely told you," he said. "That might account for your not knowing."

"So...what happened to her? I mean, was it some big Love Story thing with cancer, or was it a drunk driver, or what? How'd she die?"

He was silent for a long moment, staring at the picture.

"She drowned," he said at last. "In the Thames. Her death was ruled accidental...in the end. But it was no accident."

*****

Buffy could feel the blood draining from her face. She leaned against the nearest wall to keep from falling.

"You...you mean...?" She shook her head to clear it and pushed off from the wall. "I have to go, Anya. I have to find him now."

"Now? You can barely stand up. You can't fight him now. Don't be ridiculous."

"I can't let him kill ten people a night until I'm done breastfeeding, either."

"Oh that," the former demon scoffed. "That's just vampire tough talk. I don't think he'll really do it."

"He's a vampire. And when he was alive, he was a successful businessman, which is the second closest thing a live person can be to a vampire."

"What's the closest?"

"A lawyer. Trust me, he's gonna be good at this, and he's gonna be strong. I need to go after him now."

"Don't you think you should at least talk to Giles before you decide that?"

She looked torn for a moment, but steeled herself quickly.

"If I talk to Rupert, he's just gonna get all hyper-protective and try to stop me. I don't have time to make him understand this. I have a bloodbath to stop."

"You nearly fainted a second ago. And you know Giles will worry about what this will do to your baby."

"I was freaked, Anya. I'm better now. I have to do this. It's my job. Now are you gonna help me, or are you gonna get out of my way?"

*****

"I swear, Leo, I'll take full responsibility for him. He knows if he puts so much as his little finger out of line, I'll throw him out at sunrise."

He looked hopefully at his companion. Leo drained his teacup and regarded the vampire.

"I can't make the decision by myself," he said at last. "But if Buffy and Rupert give their permission, I won't withhold mine. I'll talk to them in the morning, and give you an answer by nightfall tomorrow."

"You won't regret this."

Angel smiled broadly and hurried for the back door to tell the news to Spike.

Now all he had to do was convince Buffy.

*****

"You must be Willow," the strangely captivating girl said.

"How...how did you know?"

"Michael's told me all about you." He pale gray eyes shone like moonlight, holding Willow's gaze. "He says you're powerful. The real deal."

"Well, I wouldn't know about that," she blushed. "Most of my spells? They go a little...wonky. I can't even make Amy a person again."

Julia looked around the table slowly. Most of her friends suddenly decided to go dance. A moment later, she and Willow were alone. The redhead looked about herself in confusion, but found her eyes drawn back to her companion's.

"So what did Amy turn herself into?" Julia asked. "She *did* perform the original spell herself, didn't she?"

"Yeah. She's been a rat for over a year now. She likes her Habittrail, though, and when I give her some cheese as a treat. I think she's just sorta down with her inner rodent or something."

"Well, breaking a shape-shifting spell - especially one where the subject has voluntarily turned into another species - is pretty tricky. Have you had any help?"

"My girlfriend has tried a couple times, but she's not so big on the huge spells. She keeps worrying about danger and stuff. Which I totally get...but..."

"But all the fun spells are the big, dangerous ones," Julia finished her thought. "So...you have a girlfriend, do you? Funny, I wouldn't have picked you as one of us."

"You...you mean...you...? Too?"

Julia reached across the table and traced her fingertip across Willow's hand.

"Yeah," she said, "me too."

*****

Anya looked longingly toward the stairs that would lead to her own bed and a night without danger in Xander's arms. Then she looked at Buffy's determined face and stance. She sighed.

"Okay," she said at last. "I'll go with you. But if we both get killed, I'll never let you forget it was all your fault."

"We won't get killed. That's the first rule, y'know: don't die. C'mon, let's get some weapons and go before there are too many bodies on my head."

She turned for the stairs and headed for the weapons chest in the living room. Anya took one last look at the staircase, shook her head sadly, and followed her.

"Why me?" she asked herself sullenly. "Why do I always let myself be talked into being selfless?"

*****

"What do you mean, it wasn't an accident?" Cordelia asked. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted an answer, but she knew she couldn't leave the question hanging in her mind. "You think she committed suicide? Is that it? 'Cause that picture you showed me is not the face of a woman who wants to end it all."

"No," Wesley said sadly. "No, she never would have done that. Daisy - that was her name - she'd never been happier. I'd never been happier. We were young, and very much in love. And she was...there was going to be a child. A boy, according to the tests." His jaw tightened and he blinked hard. "My son. When the police came and told me they'd found her...I couldn't believe it. I laughed. Told them they were mistaken. It couldn't be Daisy. Not my Daisy. But it was, you see. It was her." He turned his eyes to Cordelia. They were bright with threatening tears. "I'd lost her. Lost them both. And I thought, in that moment, that I would never love anyone or anything again."

In a flash, she was at his side, pulling him into her arms as he broke down.

"It's okay," she murmured again and again. "It's okay. You're not alone anymore.

He embraced her desperately, crushing her to his chest.

"I love you," he whispered fiercely.

"I love you, too, Wesley."

His hands moved to cup her cheeks. His lips sought hers hungrily. The photograph of Daisy fluttered unheeded to the floor as they moved toward Cordelia's bed.

*****

"Spike! Spike!" Angel stage-whispered. "Where are you?"

He jumped at a soft tap on his shoulder from behind. He turned to find the very vampire he was looking for pulling out a cigarette and smiling sardonically at him.

"Yeah, Peaches, I'm right here."

"Don't do that! You nearly scared the unlife out of me."

"Well don't blame me if your drawers get soggy," Spike scoffed. "You're entirely too delicate for this line of work, aren't you? So, what's the good word? Is someone going to invite me in, or do I let the world know about our little affair?"

"I can't get you in the door tonight, but I'm working on it."

"Working on it isn't good enough, Angel. I want in, and you're supposed to make it happen. Now make it happen."

"I can't. Not tonight, but I think I can tomorrow. Leo's agreed, as long as Buffy and Giles say it's okay."

"Well, then, go get the Slayer and her great big poof of a little man to bloody invite me in, already."

"Use your head, Spike. Buffy and Giles only tolerate you at the best of times. If I go wake them up in the middle of the night to tell them you don't have anywhere to go, do you really think they'll come welcome you with open arms? Trust me, you don't want to ask either one of them anything when they first wake up."

"This all sounds very much like you don't think you're up to it." He grinned nastily. "Shall I just make a phone call now and tell them all about how good you are? How hard you like it? How you begged me to take you one more time? I've got a quarter, and I know where to find a pay phone."

"No! Just...just give me until tomorrow night. I can do this, I swear. I just need a little more time."

Spike considered the question for a moment. He lit his cigarette, took a drag, pursed his lips, and, finally, nodded. Angel heaved a sigh of relief.

"All right, Peaches. You have until Midnight tomorrow to get me in this mausoleum. Mind you, if you don't, I'll tell them all about your little kinks." He blew a kiss to his sire and turned to leave. "Bloody, buggering hell!" he exclaimed. "What's she doing out?"

"What? Who? Where?"

"Are you deaf? Buffy. There. And demon girl, as well. Where do they think they're going with those swords at this time of night?"

"I don't know, but I think I better find out."

Angel started toward the girls. Spike stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"No, I think *we'd* best find out," he corrected. "Come on. If this goes well, I may not have to rely on your fancy talk to get me back inside...and then you'll still owe me a favor."

The two vampires followed the girls.

:: NEXT :: | :: CHRONICLES INDEX :: | :: AUTHORS PAGE ::