Title: Darkening Of The Light
Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Timeline/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: BtVS/ DA crossover. Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
Chapter Sixteen
May 30th, 2021
6:45 p.m.
Seattle, WA
Fogle Towers
Max and Alec arrived at Logan’s apartment, refreshed after their leisurely day of almost working for a living. Alec had persuaded Normal to let them go a little early, since it was Max’s first day back after her so called illness. They’d swung by his apartment so he could drop his bike off and change, then headed to her place so that she could do the same. They had decided to take Max’s motorcycle over with the intention that she’d drive him home when the evening was done.
And true to their expectations, they could smell delicious aromas wafting through the hallway as they approached the penthouse suite. Alec grinned as both his and Max’s stomach’s rumbled with hunger. “I guess we timed that right,” he joked. Max just shrugged. After all this time and Alec still didn’t seem to realize the extent with which Logan had been drilled with etiquette. Manticore could have taken lessons in that respect from Logan’s paternal family. She knocked onp[;l.\\then tried it and found it open. They entered swiftly and found Logan half-risen out of his seat in the living room.
“Hey, you made it,” he offered lamely as he finished rising.
“Well, we were invited,” Alec quipped back, somewhat sarcastic.
“Where’s Buffy?” Max asked quickly to head off any antagonism. Logan pointed down the hall.
“Bathroom.”
The transgenics nodded and Logan gestured towards the kitchen. “I’ve got dinner simmering. Should be ready to eat in about fifteen minutes.”
n'h “And what has the culinary genius come up with for tonight?” Max teased. Logan smiled and tilted his nose up in the air, affecting a snobbish accent.
“Ah, tonight we have a delicately flavored vegetarian lasagna, complimented by namekos in wine sauce, accompanied by endive salad nicoise,” Logan exaggerated. “And for dessert, a light, fluffy, lemon mousse.”
“All that?” Alec deadpanned. He glanced at Max for translation, but she shrugged, as mystified as he at the specialty items named. He turned back to Logan. “Namekos?” he asked with a skeptical look on his face.
“They’re mushrooms,” a new voice explained. All three turned towards Buffy, who had just emerged from the bathroom. Alec and Max greeted her swiftly, trying to avoid awkward conversational pauses. Logan was just a little awed that Buffy knew what namekos were. Of course, not being able to cook didn’t bar her from knowing her food.
“Well, we should go wash,” Max decided, already moving to the bathroom that Buffy had just vacated. “Rode my bike over,” she explained lamely. Alec busied himself with removing the light jacket he wore. Knowing that it would bother Logan and deciding just as quickly that he didn’t care, he threw it over the back of the sofa. He turned to Buffy and took in the blank look on her face again. Yet there was something different in her eyes. She was watching her cousin and Alec could see from the corner of his eye that the older man was grimacing over his actions.
But instead of just directing her eyes in Logan’s direction, Alec could see that she was cataloging his reactions. She showed no reaction to whatever information she’d taken it, but Alec was sure that something was happening with her. It was almost a relief. He wasn’t sure he could handle another evening of not-all-there girl. He clapped his hands together lightly then rubbed them, bringing attention to himself.
“So Buffy,” he began conversationally. “How was your first full day in Seattle?”
“Quiet.” The answer came swiftly, but nothing else was offered.
“I worked in the office most of the day,” Logan filled in for her. “Buffy got acquainted with the apartment. ‘What she could of it.’ He added silently. Max returned and Alec took his cue to imitate her earlier behavior, shaking his head as he went. It was going to be a long night, he just knew it. Maybe after an hour or so, he and Max could ditch and head to Crash for a beer. As soon as he thought it though, he knew he wouldn’t. Having been stuck in a car and motels with Logan for over a week, Alec knew that Buffy needed more human contact than her justice seeking cousin.
In the living room, Max sat down on the sofa, away from Logan and glanced pointedly at Buffy. She patted the seat of the chair nearest her and was glad to see Buffy take the cue and seat herself in it. “So Buffy,” she began, “I’m glad to see those clothes fit okay.” Buffy was wearing a pair of Cindy’s jeans with the cuffs rolled up once and a shirt of Max’s.
“Yes,” Buffy replied in a monotone. “Thank you.” She glanced at Logan, then bit at the corner of her lip. “And your friend.”
“It’s not a problem,” Max shrugged it off. “Cindy’s closer to your size and she’d give the shirt off her back to help someone in need.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but Max didn’t feel it necessary to explain that Cindy’s motto seemed to be ‘any frined of Boo’s was a friend of hers’. “When do you and Logan plan to go shopping?”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed and she glanced at her cousin. Logan smiled at her reassuringly. “Maybe tomorrow?” he offered, letting her decide ultimately. Buffy shrugged. It mattered little to her at this point. And for those that knew her deeply or intimately, could take it as a sign of how far she had receded into herself that the prospect of shopping on someone else’s dime hadn’t inflamed her sense of style. They turned as a group as Alec returned to the living room, holding up his hands.
“Squeaky clean,” he joked. “Can we eat?”
“Yes,” Logan agreed, standing up swiftly. “Dinner should be ready. Buffy, can you put the plates around the table? We’re eating in the dining area, since there are more of us.”
Buffy barely nodded and moved over to the full size dining table. Max, watching her, knew the dining table could seat a dozen people if needed. More often than not though, Logan usually opted to eat at his island counter. He’d already set out the plates, utensils and glasses, and now they just needed to be arranged.
Max would have offered to help, but since they still didn't know what kind of transfer was necessary for the virus, it was better that she didn't touch anything that Logan was going to eat off of. Once Buffy was finished, everyone aside from Logan took their seats. Buffy had arranged the plates so that no one was sitting at an end of the table, as would have been usual if this had been an actual dinner party. Instead, she had set the plates, two on either side, more towards the middle of the table. All the cutlery was on one side, like a restaurant, without them being rolled into a napkin, and the glasses resting above and slightly to the right of the plates.
Logan returned swiftly, carrying the salad and several serving bowls. He set these on the table and encouraged them to start on the salad while he went back for the lasagna. There was a silent moment before Alec took the initiative and pulled the salad towards himself. He began dishing out servings, glad to see that the fancy sounding salad was just plain old salad that he was used to, with the addition of nuts. He gestured with the salad tongs, while eying Buffy and she gave him a half-hearted shrug. Taking that to mean that she'd take some, he filled a bowl for her and passed it over. She settled it on her dinner plate and politely waited until Alec had finished serving it up for everyone else.
Logan returned, holding the lasagna pan in one hand, with a hot pad draped over the same arm and a bowl full of the mushrooms. He set those down first and then made a slight show of arranging the hot pad on the table before setting down the pan fresh from the oven. He straightened up and smiled tightly at the occupants of the table. Max was reaching for the cut crystal oil and vinegar shakers to pour over her salad. Alec, remembering training from Manticore, was waiting for Logan to take his seat before eating and Buffy was just staring down at her plate.i
"What can I get everyone to drink?" Logan asked, his voice soft, but still easily heard because of the silence in the room. "I have some white wine, coffee, tea..."
He would have gone on, but Alec smiled tersely up at him, "wine's good Logan. Thanks buddy." Next to him, Max nodded her agreement. Logan turned to look at Buffy. Technically, she was well able to drink if she wanted, but still...
"Oh," Buffy seemed startled when she realized that her cousin was looking at her. "Water is fine. Thank you."
Logan nodded and returned to the kitchen. He'd grab a goblet of water for Buffy and just bring the wine to the table. It wasn't as if this were a formal setting. He was back quickly enough and the silence was still just as pervading. He knew that it would probably be up to him to get the conversational ball rolling. He set Buffy's glass down before her and took his seat, the last one available, right next to her. Alec and Max were seated across the table, Max directly opposite him and Alec across from Buffy.
"So how was work today?" he asked casually of both transgenics as he reached across the table to pour Max some wine. That accomplished, he accepted Alec's glass and poured out a full measure. That done, he filled his own and set the bottle in the middle of the table, well within everyone's reach. The business of eating continued as Alec chuckled.
"Not too bad," he grunted. "Normal fired three more people while we were gone. So he was glad to see us back. At least some of us," he added with a small smirk directed at Max.
"I've got better things to do than spend all my days suckin' up to the boss man," Max snorted indelicately.
"Yeah, but if you did, then you might not have to work so hard Max," Alec pointed out.
"Please," Max frowned. "Dinner looks good. I'd rather be able to eat it than spend my night scouring my brain with steel wool to get the image of kissin' Normal's ass out of my mind."
"As if I ever-!" Alec began as Logan smothered what distinctly sounded like a small laugh.
"Normal?" Buffy interrupted quietly. She had yet to take a bite of her salad and seemed mostly to be just toying with her fork. All three faces swung around to look at her and she shrank back a little bit. But, encouraged by another sign of overt interest on her part, they weren't about to let her slip back into her solitude.
"Reagan Ronald," Max explained. "He's our boss at Jam Pony."
"Which is a bike messenger service," Alec added. "And he prefers to be called Ray. But he's so... normal he makes Logan here look punk by comparison."
"Oh," Buffy replied in a small voice. But now that they sort of had her talking, they weren't about to let her slip back into the nothingness of silence.
"So," Alec sighed as he directed his gaze to spearing more bits of lettuce, not wanting to scare the girl off by staring openly at her. "You obviously know your mushrooms. Any chance you inherited the family gene for gourmet cooking?"
Logan muffled another snort and all three guests threw various looks at him. He raised his napkin to his lips and shook his head. "Sorry. Just remembering the spaghetti dinner she made once."
"That bad?" Max asked sympathetically of Buffy and the blond shrugged again.
"I forgot to rinse the noodles in hot water," Buffy recalled vaguely.
"And the sauce was piping hot," Logan continued, his eyes dancing. "So when we tried to heat up the food in the microwave, we just ended up scorching the sauce. And if that wasn't bad enough, she'd mixed up the chili powder and the paprika."
"Well you know what they say," Alec grinned broadly at Buffy, trying to assure her that they weren't laughing at her, per se. "Cooking is a science. Or is it an art?" he asked, turning slightly in his seat to address Max.
"Both," she grinned. "And a chore as well. Why do you think I come over here so often?"
"And here I thought it was for the scintillating conversation," Logan mockingly whined.
"I knew a girl named Chantarelle," Buffy broke in and the entire table went silent, waiting for what they assumed to be a punchline of some sort. "But then she changed her name to Lily." They waited another moment, but nothing else was forthcoming.
"Did she know she was named for a mushroom?" Logan finally asked, recalling where the topic of conversation had started at. Buffy shook her head.
"Not until I told her. She was glad she changed."
"What was her last name?" Logan asked solicitously. "Maybe we can add her name to the people we're looking for."
"Don't know," Buffy grunted softly. "After her boyfriend died, she changed her name again. She was a runaway."
"Oh, that's too bad," Max sympathized after a moment. She understood on a small level, having lived on the streets numerous times between her escape from Manticore until the time she'd ended up in Seattle.
"So did you meet her when you ran away from home?" Alec asked, trying to keep the conversation flowing. He didn't realize until it was out of his mouth, that it really wasn't the best topic to approach. Especially when he caught all eyes turned to him, full of shock and accusation. But worst of all, Buffy's face had drained completely of the little bit of color that it had had. The girl didn't even bother with politeness, she just shoved back from the table and disappeared from the dining room. Alec let out a soft groan as Max and Logan's eyes darkened.
"Way to go Alec," Max hissed. "She was finally starting to open up..."
"No," Logan broke in. "It's my fault Max. I didn't tell Buffy that I had told you guys her life history. Although, just randomly bringing it up at the dinner table wasn't the best idea."
"No, you're right," Alec nodded, setting his napkin on the table and pushing away as well. "I wasn't thinking."
"That was obvious," Max snorted. "What are you doing?"
"Goin' to apologize," Alec frowned as he rose. Nothing more was said as he followed after Logan's distraught cousin. Or at least he imagined her to be distraught. She was extremely difficult to read. And Alec had had a lot of practice and instruction in being able to do exactly that.
Only vaguely aware of the entire layout of Logan's penthouse, Alec was glad that there was only two doors closed. The others led to Logan's bedroom, the bathroom and Alec was quite familiar with the door and room that housed Logan's study. Or rather, the Eyes Only room. Figuring that the door just down the hallway on the opposite side must have been the guest room, Alec took a chance and knocked softly at the door. He didn't hear anything from inside and boldly, turned the knob and nudged the door open.
"Buffy? It's me," he announced through the crack in the door. "If you want me to leave, just let me know. Otherwise I'm coming in." He waited a few minutes and not hearing anything to bar him, he pushed the door open fully, stepped inside and shut the door behind himself. His eyes adjusted very quickly to the dark atmosphere and he wondered if Buffy was still having trouble with her eyes. She seemed to prefer the darkness. So did he, but probably for very different reasons.
He saw her immediately, seated in a straight backed chair that was set before the expansive window. One ankle was crossed over the other, her arms also crossed with both hands tucked away. Her back was stiff, but other than that, Alec had no indication that he wasn't welcome. He took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped loosely as he leaned forward to address her.
"Buffy, I'm sorry," he whispered gently, watching her for her reaction. "I shouldn't have blurted that out back there. It wasn't any of my business." There was no response. "But in my defense, Logan told us all this stuff about you and your life when we all thought you were dead." She flinched a little, not much, just a twitching of her shoulders and Alec winced inwardly. "And the longer you know me, the more you'll come to see that there are just some days when I'll say the first thing that comes to mind and offend just about everyone around me. Especially Max. But then, she's so easy to rile up, you know. Not like Logan, he usually keeps his cool. And I guess thinking about things, you know, the stuff he told us, it was a lot of conjecture on his part, since he was still just a kid when..." Alec suppressed a groan and let loose his hands so that he could rub one finger across the bridge of his nose. "Um, basically the points I'm trying to make are that one, I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn, especially if it upset you. Two, because Logan didn't have his information straight from the horse's mouth, I suspect it'd be better if we just forgot what he told us and start again. And three, if there is something you want to talk about, I'm here." Alec pulled in a deep breath, wondering just how much he could say without getting too into details. "I know it probably doesn't look it," he began slowly, "but Max and I? We haven't exactly had the apple pie American life. And we probably want to talk about it even less than you want to discuss your life. But if you ever do, want to talk, that is, we'd understand."
He waited again for some sign. But there was nothing. She didn't relax or tense up. She didn't blink or turn her head. She just continued to stare out the window. Feeling slightly defeated, and not liking it, Alec began to rise from the bed.
"It looks different," she spoke softly, her voice ethereal. Alec, half standing, paused and watched her. But she made no indication of what she was talking about and he had to take it to maybe mean the view outside the window.
"What?" he asked gently. "The city?" That got a nod. "You remember we talked about the Pulse?" he reminded her and he could see a crease appear in her forehead. "The city, well, the whole country actually, took a nosedive from the standards you were probably used to."
"A bomb?" she asked softly and Alec nodded when he noted her gaze turn towards him.
"I'll tell you what," he smiled softly at her, finishing the act of rising from the bed. "Forgive me for my horrible social gaffe and come back to the table and we'll tell you all about the Pulse again. That way, you won't be blindsided when you and Logan are out and about tomorrow. What d'you say?" He lightly bit his tongue as he watched her shrinking back at the thought. "Besides, we can't let Max and Logan hog all that lovely lemon mousse." He held out one hand to her and Buffy glanced from it to his face and back again. Slowly, she reached up her hand and Alec let loose a brilliant smile that became even brighter when the slightest hint of something finally touched her eyes.
He gave her hand a small tug and she gracefully rose. He led her to the doorway, her hand still grasped in his. "Do you want to know a secret?" Buffy asked and Alec could have almost said that her voice sounded slightly girlish.
"What's that?" he grunted, wondering if she were going to take him up on his offer so soon.
"It's just lemon pie filling and whipped cream," Buffy informed him. "And it only takes five minutes to make." Alec turned back to her, a slow grin broadening his lips.
"And let me guess," he smirked. "Logan would have us all believe he slaved away all day on it." Buffy nodded once and Alec returned the motion. "One of these days," he muttered, shaking his head, "I'm gonna bust that guy." He snorted, amused. "Making us all think he's this culinary genius. Pfft. French names and expensive food. That's all it is."
"Lemon pie filling is expensive?"
"Actually it is," Alec nodded, even though he'd never had occasion to buy the stuff. They continued down the hallway, her hand still swallowed up in his. "See, the Pulse affected everything about the economy, the price of food included. So what you would be used to paying for food, you're gonna have to get used to multiplying that by like..."
*****
May 30th, 2021
11:26 p.m.
Seattle, WA
Bedouin Breakfast Motel
"Oh my God," Cordelia moaned as she looked around at their new current location. "This is... just gross."
"Suck it up Cordy," Angel grunted as he moved past her to place all the luggage at the foot of the beds. "It was the last room they had."
"Yeah, I know," Cordy shot back. "But they could have at least pretended to clean it up. I mean, look at this!"
"It's not like we're going to live here," Tara soothed as she moved to pick her bag out of the pile while Angel returned to shut the motel door. "It's j-just for one night." She didn't add the 'we hope' aloud.
"Right," Cordy nodded. "We'll hopefully survive the night here, which should be easy. We've all survived worse, haven't we? And then first thing in the morning, we'll call this Cale guy and take care of business. Right?"
"Yeah," Angel and Tara nodded.
"First thing in the morning," Angel repeated.
Chapter Seventeen
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