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Part Twelve
Giles wasn’t sure whose complaining bothered him more on the walk back into town, Buffy’s or Cordelia’s, but by the time they located Cordelia’s car — abandoned about two miles away from the teenagers’ makeout place — he was quite ready to throttle the both of them.
He realized full well that it was at least partially the involuntary five-mile speed hike that had put him in so irritable a mood, but right now he couldn’t be bothered to give too much of a bloody goddamn. Cordelia had taken five minutes to detail her puzzling release by Marcie Ross, apparently a much changed young woman, and then had spent the rest of the trip downhill griping that everything happened to HER. Still, she had been a bit traumatized tonight, what with the abduction and the faceoff with Drusilla, so her angst and complaints at least had some justification.
Less so, Buffy’s. She knew that neither he nor Cordelia could have managed the task of transporting Drusilla down by hand, and she also knew that leaving her free was distinctly counterproductive. Nonetheless, she complained the entire way down the hill as well.
It seemed to be a kind of nervousness, as well. Between the three of them they had dealt with Drusilla and Marcie Ross … which still left Ethan, Lyle Gorch and Catherine the Great unaccounted for. And they had been effectively incommunicado for the last two hours or so, and God knows what kind of havoc could have been wrought in that timespan.
Fine. So he understood Buffy’s complaints as well, which didn’t make them any easier to listen to …
Cordelia saw her car first, and in a surprising burst of energy ran to look inside. “Marcie?” she demanded. Then, as Buffy deposited Drusilla on Queen C’s hood and Giles leaned heavily against the door, the cheerleader looked by the side of the road for another stick. Buffy saved her the trouble by opening both side doors and waving her arms around vigorously, encountering nothing.
“See?” Buffy said. “No invisible people lurking around —”
“Well, I didn’t think so, I just wanted to be sure.” She slipped into the front seat — the keys had been left in the ignition. “Hey — what’s this? She reached for a piece of paper left in the front passenger seat. “It’s a letter from Marcie.”
Dear Cordelia,
I was tempted. Believe me, I was tempted. But it seems my training has taken too well. I’ve changed too much to hate you with anything approaching the same passion that I used to. Sure, you were a raving bitch, but what happened to me was at least partially my own fault. I didn’t have to be such a wallflower. And if I can change, well, even you can change. As you showed me tonight.
Au revoir, Cordelia Chase. You won’t be seeing me again.
Sincerely, Marcie
PS — yes, I mean that in both senses.
Cordelia looked up and said, “Well.” Then she folded up the note and put it in her glove compartment. “I assume you all want a ride?”
“That … would be nice, Cordelia,” Giles said. At the same time, Buffy put Drusilla into the back. The cheerleader looked ready to complain, but as Buffy’s visage showed her to not be in an especially good mood, she wisely decided not to raise any objections.
They were passing by one of the classier hotels by the edge of town when Buffy said, “Stop the car.” Cordelia slammed on the brakes too hard. “Isn’t that Oz’s van over there?” She pointed to the parking lot.
“Yes,” Giles answered. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s Wesley’s vehicle over there.”
“A Nash Rambler?” Cordelia asked. “Why’d he get the cool car?”
“Never mind that. If they’re all there — pull in, please —” There was an open space next to the van, which Cordelia pulled into with a minimum of squealing and screeching. Getting out, Giles said, “We should go inside. Who knows what hazards they may be facing?” They began walking towards the hotel’s entrance.
“I’d say him,” Cordelia said matter-of-factly, pointing to — Ethan? — who was busily sprinting out of the front lobby doors, looking behind him all the way.
“Well. I’ve been waiting for this.” Buffy’s voice sounded cold and vindictive, an emotion he normally discouraged. Then again, this was Ethan Rayne. The sorcerer didn’t notice the trio until he’d practically collided with them.
“Oh, BUGGER this,” Ethan said as he hastily braked.
“I could arrange it with a male gorilla, if you’d like,” Giles told his ex-friend. “Or perhaps you’ll make this easy and simply tell us why you’re running from the hotel as though Satan himself were in pursuit?”
“Don’t make it easy,” Buffy pleaded behind her. “Please don’t make it easy.”
Sighing, Ethan said, “Well, at this point I’ve run out of options, and I’m not foolish enough to try to fight my way out of this. Your friends are in room 315, and right now Catherine Madison should be rather quickly making hash of them.”
Buffy looked up at Giles, who nodded. Immediately Buffy ran into the hotel.
“You’ll understand,” Giles said conversationally to Ethan. “If I keep you around until I determine if you’re to be trusted.”
“Understand, yes. COOPERATE —” and then he made a break to Giles’ left …
… only to be brought smashing to the pavement by Cordelia’s outstretched foot.
“Nicely done,” Giles commented.
“Thanks. NOW what do we do with him?”
“Grab a leg.” Puzzled, Cordelia nonetheless did so.
Then they dragged him across the parking lot and tossed him into the back of Wesley’s car.
* * *
Cordelia rounded the side of Oz’s van — looking for some rope to tie up Ethan Rayne — and smacked right into the cowboy vampire, now what was his name, Loser, Linus … what the hell did it matter what he was called? She turned to run, but he was on her too quickly, pressing her against the side of the van, hand over her mouth so she couldn’t get away or scream for help.
He grinned widely after he had Cordelia helpless, though, whatever his name was. “Well, howdy there, Miss Chase. I am remembering your name correctly, right? And, uh —” his voice went from jovial to harsh —”don’t try bluffin’ me again. You ain’t the Slayer. In fact, I owe you for that little trick. And here I was thinking I wasn’t going to get the chance to pay you back.” Whoever said cowboys were the strong silent type had obviously never met this guy! “And then I go and find you conveniently waitin’ for me, all alone out here in a deserted parking lot. Mighty obligin’ of you.”
And then Giles appeared around the corner of the van. “She’s not waiting here alone, Mr. Gorch.”
Didn’t seem to bother Gorch much, though. “No problem — already taken care of you once. I can handle the two of you.”
Then Wesley — she KNEW he’d be here! — popped up behind Giles. “Th-three,” he said. God! he looked so cute tonight!
Snorting, Gorch said. “Still no problem. You’re all human.”
Then the entire crowd of vampire-hunters popped up. Xander said, “Four.”
“Five,” from Willow.
“Six,” from Oz.
And then, on the other side of her, Buffy and Angel appeared. “I’m seven,” Angel said casually.
“And I make eight,” Buffy chirped.
Gorch grabbed onto Cordelia’s neck all the tighter. “’kay, you got numbers, but I still got your little friend here. Take a step closer and I kill her.”
“Go right ahead,” Buffy shot back. What? This was a plan. It had to be a plan. Oh God, please let there be a plan … “Kill her. But then we kill you.” That was it?
“Slowly,” Giles said.
“Painfully,” Oz added.
“What they said,” Willow threatened. Wesley just stood there playing the strong silent type, and he was SO good at it, too …
Cordelia could almost see Gorch trying to think, trying to weigh his options. It was a real struggle for the man, too. And then she decided, to hell with it, enough was enough. While he was distracted … she brought her knee up as hard as she could into his groin. Gorch winced in pain — winced? that was as hard as she could! — but did let her go for a second. In that second, Buffy reached in and yanked her clear.
Cordelia caught her breath, turned around — why couldn’t she have been on the side with Wesley? Not that she was complaining about being clear of the vampire, of course! Once turned, she took a deep breath and looked squarely into Gorch’s eyes. “And I. Make. Nine.” Of course, if he charged, she’d run and leave the Slaying to Buffy, but still — Gorch had been bluffed easily once before …
Giles, Buffy and Angel — and after a second, everyone else — took a step forward towards Gorch. The cowboy looked around, his head twitching, and said, “Oh. I see. So that’s the way it’s going to be. Well, then, I got only one thing to say to y’all.” He tipped his hat and said, “Later!”, jumped on top of the nearest car, leapt to another one, tripped on his way to the ground — everyone burst out laughing, of course — and raced off down the parking lot.
As Buffy got ready to chase off after Gorch, Giles grabbed her hand. “Don’t bother. He’s likely in the next county over by now.”
Then they all split up to go home, or back to the library, or wherever. Cordelia supposed she’d still have to ferry someone home, though now that there were three vehicles she absolutely refused to let the vampire stay in her back seat one second longer than necessary. She’d hoped Wesley would get to drive with her, but he insisted on driving his own car for some silly reason. So she got Buffy instead.
The first words out of the Slayer’s mouth were, “Cordy? Why’d you try kneeing him in the balls like that? If you’d failed —”
“I wasn’t going to,” Cordelia answered. “I’ve known more than my share of ultramacho guys, and they’re pretty much all the same. They have such a regard for their family jewels, and they think everyone else looks on them the same way.”
Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Good point.”
The next five minutes passed in silence, with Cordelia slowly driving along and looking out the windows, trying to memorize the view from the driver’s seat of the car. “Buffy?” she said. “Would you mind if we took the scenic route right now?” This was likely to be her last ride in Queen C, after all, and she wanted to make it a good one.
“Still need some time to recover?” Buffy asked sympathetically.
Briefly she considered telling the Slayer the truth: that her father had cheated the government out of its taxes for the last twelve years, and that they had to sell the car to help pay the massive fine and possibly keep Daddy out of jail. That she was poor.
But no. Tell them she was on THEIR level now? No. She’d pretend until she could get out without embarrassing herself.
And besides, if Buffy found out, Xander would find out, and that she couldn’t stand.