Chapter 16

After everyone had had a shower, breakfast and so forth, they sat down in the Slayer’s kitchen and looked solemnly at each other. Blaise sighed and his shoulders slumped as everyone’s eyes turned to him. “I can’t tell it all, alright? I can tell you some, but if I tell too much, we lose. I tell too little, we lose.”

“So, the basic assessment of the situation is that we’re totally fucked?” Draco asked dryly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say totally, but yes. That is the basic assessment of the situation.” Blaise bobbed his head in agreement, then put it down on his folded arms, leaning his forehead against the cool surface. Ginny patted the back of his head, and Azrael jumped onto the table. Buffy leapt to her feet.

“Whoa! Cat, on the table.”

“Now that you’ve stunned us with your vocabulary, blondie, sit down,” Mordred sneered. Azrael wrapped his tail around his feet, tilting his head slightly to the side and looking around. Seeming to come to a decision, he stalked over to where Ginny was sitting between Blaise and Spike and meowed demandingly.

“Yes, Azrael. I know. Bad Ginny, leaving you all alone to the hands of the Gryffindors.” Azrael mewed again, voice high and wavering as he obviously scolded her. Ginny rolled her eyes. “I didn’t exactly have a choice.” Azrael hissed at her for that, back arching and fur rising. “Azrael…” His shoulders lowered and he flinched back, mouth emanating warning growls. Ginny hissed back, and he snarled.

“Well, isn’t this intriguing to watch?” Blaise quipped, and both turned to fix him with a deadly glare.

“We’re discussing something here, Blaise. He happens to disagree with the way I handled the matter,” Ginny said icily, and then hissed at her cat again, mouth open and teeth bared. Azrael looked more stubborn, if anything, and his claws gripped at the wood of the table as he yowled back.

“The Guardian of Night. Both Guardians will pledge their allegiance to the Phoenix in gratitude, yet the Guardian of Demons will also be in power over the Phoenix. The Flame must be restrained until the time is right, and then the worlds shall burn. Alight in flames of restoration, the Joining will be complete. The Phoenix, the Dragon Prince and the Guardian of Demons shall become one, as the One in Halves are rejoined,” Blaise recited, eyes glowing for a moment, then he looked around. “I said a prophecy, didn’t I?”

“Uh, think so, yeah,” Ginny said.

“Goddamn. Why does it always sound like a heap of mystic mumbojumbo? Why can’t the Powers That Be just give it to us plainly?” Blaise said in frustration.

“Because then it would not be near as amusing watching us scrabble with the snippets they deign to gift us with,” Vortigern sighed, then looked around. “Whyfore dost we still hesitate? We have much to do before Zabini can conjure us home.”

“We need transport,” Ginny said bluntly.

“I have a set of wheels,” Spike volunteered, before continuing, “but we’ll head up to LA tomorrow.”

“Why?” Ginny asked the vampire. His eyes narrowed.

“Because I said so, pet. All your…friends need some new clothing, and you all still need a rest.” Spike’s tone made it very clear this discussion was over.

“You’re being rather altruistic, Spike. Why is that?” Spike looked at Buffy lazily.

“Cos, Slutty, they’re going to take the bloody chip out of my head.”

“Freed from unnatural restraints, the Guardian of Demons shall confront the one named Sire and the Angelic One shall have peace. The Wandering Ones curse shall be fixed and lo, the demon and soul become one, no longer in absolute conflict. It shall be as it were meant to be.” Blaise shook his head as the glow departed again. “You know, that really is becoming disconcerting,” he complained, “we need to get something to record those.”

Vortigern held up a quill and parchment. “Already done.”

“That have any meaning to you?” Mordred asked Spike.

“Yeah.” Spike crossed his arms as Azrael turned his golden-eyed gaze on him. “And what’s up with the sodding cat?” He said as the cat started sniffing him. Azrael hissed at the insult and scratched Spike across the face. “Bloody hell!” Azrael fled to under the couch as Spike got angrily to his feet, one hand to his quickly healing cheek.

“Like you’re not going to be healed in five minutes anyway. You insulted the cat. Don’t do it.” Mordred shrugged. “We don’t have to be stupid just because we’re evil. That cat is *vicious*.” Azrael purred from under the couch, sticking his head out warily.

“I’m sure he’s pleased at the comment. Azrael, Spike. William the Bloody, meet Azrael, my personal demon familiar.” Ginny put her hand down to Azrael’s and cooed to him. Azrael sauntered out and sniffed her fingers, deigning to give them a dainty lick. “Most people dismiss cats. Mistake. If I manage to figure out this spell I was reading, it could turn out to be their *last* mistake.”

“Do tell, o beauteous maid,” Vortigern purred, leaning forward on the table. Spike growled almost inaudibly. “Oh, thou dost have the most filthy suspicions, vampire. I do not long solely for the company of the maidens fair. Thee, on the other hand…” Vortigern sighed. “Virginia is beautiful, but no. I prefer blondes to redheads.”

“What was the name of that guy, back in, oh god, it was Somerset, wasn’t it?” Mordred stretched his hands above his head, corner of his mouth stretching upwards in a lustfully nostalgic grin. “Such a *nice* arse.”

“I believe his name was Daniel.” Vortigern glanced over at Buffy. “What, thou dost not share? Sometimes sharing be half the fun.”

“And since we’re really the same person, what’s the big fucking deal?” Mordred shrugged. “I play the big bad rebel, and he plays the coolly refined Machiavellian villain. It’s a good bit of role-play. But I forget, you’re a vanilla girl. No fun kinky BDSM for *you*, luv. You never did return that set of handcuffs by the way, Zabini. Were they fun?”

Blaise grinned. “My friend appreciated them very much.”

“No sex implied?”

“Well, there was lots of sex involved, but no. I’m not giving you that big a clue. Suffice to say that they like to feel dominant occasionally.” Blaise sighed wistfully, eyes going distant. “God, I want to go home.”

“Same here. This reality bites.”

‘Sometimes literally.” Blaise glanced meaningfully at the vampire at the table, and the Hogwarts people cracked up. “Ok, that wasn’t really that funny.” Blaise leant his elbow on the table, hiding his eyes in his hand, then looked up over his fingers. “But somehow, it really, really was. It will never work again, but yes, it was that funny.”

“So, plan of action. One, spell research to remove Spike’s chip. Two, me, Ginny and Spike head up to LA. Three, we do the thing on the prophecy and fix the Angelic One’s soul. Then we come back to Sunnydale, and figure out how to get home. And then?”

“We go and kick some arse!” Mordred leapt to his feet and punched a hand in the air. “Yes! Finally. What?” He asked as they looked at him. He sat down again, dangerous smile on his face as he anticipated the violence to come.

“But first, we need some history. Explain what obviously sparked during Zabini’s foretelling. Tell, or we leave,” Draco hissed, face closing down. Ginny made a move to say something and he cut her off. “Malfoy, Virginia. This is not something that is up for discussion. If I have to, I will kill the Slayer, dust the vampire and knock you out to get you home safe.” Spike and Draco shared a glance of understanding over Ginny’s head.

“So, the Dragon Prince comes into his own. We all have to grow into our roles.” Blaise nodded slowly while Buffy gaped in shock.

“Everything spirals on. Further and further, and where it stops, we don’t know,” Ginny said quietly, and then laughed suddenly. “God, this brings back memories.”

“Chamber?”

“Chamber.” She nodded in response to Draco’s question. “Nasty little diary thing. Ooh, there’s an idea.” She bounced in her seat. “Do you mind awfully if I give your father to Spike?”

“As long as I get to kill him, that’s fine with me.” Draco smiled nastily.

“Can we help?” Vortigern asked with interest. Mordred nodded, eyes glowing with fury.

“We have a score to settle as well.”

“And don’t we have just the most lovely fucked up home lives?’ Blaise said drolly. “We’re lucky we’ve come out more or less unscarred.”

“Speak for yourself. Lucius gave me a rather vicious one across my back from his belt. It just has this rather curved, spiked end to it, you see,” Draco mused. “I think it was because I used the wrong fork at dinner.” He shook his head slightly. “No, the scar for that came when I was five, and is on my stomach. Why do you think I wear long robes? Because I *like* the things? No. That’s to hide the incidental scarring that comes from living in the Malfoy household. Affection is something that has no place within those walls. Only perfection, cold and absolute.”

“Oh my god. . .” Buffy said softly. Draco sat bolt upright, uncoiling from his relaxed slump in the chair.

“Don’t you dare pity me. Pity any of us. You pity us, and I’ll rip your tongue out by the roots.” Draco sat back down, the flare of his anger departing swiftly, but eyes still holding a residual glow.

“So, did everyone get enough to eat?” Joyce said cheerfully as she moved into the kitchen.

“Yeah, thanks.” “Fantastic.” “Yes.” “Indeed.” “It was great.” A chorus of replies greeted her. She smiled.

“That’s good. Well, I called Xander and he’ll be round with some changes of clothing.”

“Smashing,” Blaise drawled, and Draco shot him a look. “Why not live up to the stereotype, old boy? It amuses the colonials so very much.” Buffy laughed, and he grinned. “You do see what I mean, don’t you, chap? Absolutely spiffing, tally ho. Dear god, someone stop me,” he deadpanned, face showing no emotion but the ones who knew could see the sly amusement in his dark eyes.

“He’s been taken over. Someone, save him, please,” Draco said drolly, crossing his arms. “He’s possessed. Oh no, how will we ever cope?”

“He’s crossed over to the dark side of the force. Dear god, no,” Mordred said in a monotone.

“What will we do?” Ginny said in high, ditzy voice, and fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, what ever will we do?” They all collapsed into laughter, the people of this dimension eyeing them strangely. “Your minds obviously do not work in the same rarefied realms as ours,” she said loftily, then ruined it by giggling.

“Riigghhtt,” Spike drawled. “You’re all mad as hatters. Is that a side effect of dimension travelling, cos if it is, I’ll stay right here.”

“We were like this before we came,” Draco shrugged.

“So, it’s the magic, right?”

“Nah, just us. We’re all fucking nuts, or we would have just let Ginny die. Pissing off the guy who holds your life and anyone you have a shred of affection for in his hands *is* fucking crazy, mate,” Mordred said huskily, and then laughed hollowly. “We’re all fucking mad.” Blaise held his hand up and Mordred high fived it.

“Bonkers. The whole blooming lot of us.”

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