[Gunnwesley] Our Lady (Birthdayverse Realities #15)

[Katarina Hjärpe]

Title: Our Lady
Author: Katta ( head_overheels at hotmail.com )
Series/sequel: first in the second season of the Birthdayverse Realities 
series (#15 total). The previous season can be found at 
http://geocities.com/katta_hj/fanfic/Angel/birthday/index.html
Pairing: Wes/Gunn
Rating: R
Author's notes: Thanks to Jadelennox for the beta. Thanks also to those of 
you still reading after all this time I've spent doing other stuff!
Summary: Two young women grace the scene. One is the mother of a yet unborn 
saviour. Who is the other?

***

”I love this apartment!” Gunn declared.

”Mmm.” Wes was putting his books up into the book shelf and didn’t pay him 
much mind. With some volumes too damaged by the explosion to read, the 
shelves had gaps - both physical and intellectual - that needed to be 
filled. Old Al wouldn’t have everything he needed. Maybe Denver?

”Do you know what I love best about it?”

”The mice?”

Gunn frowned, sitting down on the couch. ”There are mice?”

”Well, something has been making holes in the panelling. If it’s not mice, I 
don’t know what it is.”

”Okay, no, not the mice.”

”The leaking shower?” Wes suggested.

”Wes...”

”The demon neighbours?”

Gunn got a panicked expression. ”Please tell me that you’re joking.”

”There’s a family of Anomovics upstairs,” Wes said. ”They’re harmless, 
though I wouldn’t recommend socializing too closely with them. Their wedding 
rites alone...”

”Okay, no marrying the demons,” Gunn interrupted. ”I’m sure I’ll get used to 
them. And we can fix the shower, and kill the mice, and you’re completely 
missing the point here, Wes!”

Wes put his books down and smiled at Gunn. ”And what, pray, is the point?”

”My name is on the lease.”

”So’s mine,” Wes teased, and then amended, ”Yes, all right, I know it’s not 
the same thing. Congratulations.”

Gunn scoffed. ”Well, if you’re used to a fancy English mansion...”

It was so unexpected Wes had to laugh. ”You have the strangest ideas about 
the size of my family’s fortune.”

”What, you’re not the heir of all England?”

”Of course I am. But all England is so small!” He was suddenly reminded of 
the school trips he had been on as a child. Unlike the Watcher excursions, 
he had enjoyed those. The memory brought forth something that might be 
called homesickness, and perhaps his voice was a smidgeon too cheerful as he 
continued: ”Plus, there’s the whole disownment issue.”

The smile disappeared from Gunn’s face, which made Wes regret ever saying 
anything. ”They didn’t really disown you, did they?”

”I don’t know,” Wes said, as calmly as he could manage. ”I haven’t asked 
them.”

”You haven’t even tried talking to them?”

Oh, dear God, why had he brought up this subject? ”I don’t have anything I 
want to say to them.”

Gunn looked a bit sick and shook his head. ”Family’s important.”

”Your family, maybe,” Wes said, standing up.

Seeing Gunn’s face, he desperately wished he’d have had the sense to keep 
his mouth shut.

”Listen,” he said. ”I’m sorry. How about we step out of this discussion 
before both of us have our feet so deep in our mouths that we’ll never get 
them out again?”

Gunn’s expression didn’t lighten. ”Don’t you...”

Since Wes had no particular wish to find out how Gunn intended to end that 
sentence, he grabbed him instead and gave him a deep kiss.

”You kissing me to shut me up, now?” Gunn asked when he got his lips to 
himself again.

”Only because nothing else worked,” Wes retorted.

Gunn stared at him, and then his mouth started twitching. ”Damn you,” he 
muttered. ”Okay, deal. Discussion’s over.” He couldn’t keep the smile off 
his face, nor could he hide it, even though he turned his head away. ”Want 
help with those books?”

”You’d mess up the order,” Wes said, carefully placing ’Olympus Antiquus et 
Hodiernus’ on the shelf. Bloody heavy book - maybe he should put it on the 
bottom instead, but then he’d need to re-think his sorting. The books next 
to it started to slide away, and he hissed in irritation as he propped them 
up to prevent them from falling. ”All right. But you have to put every book 
exactly where I say.”

”Of course,” Gunn said with a slight smile, joining Wes by the shelves.

As they worked, Gunn kept making pauses to look at the room, and after a 
while, Wes had to stop what he was doing just so he could watch Gunn’s goofy 
smile. ”You really *do* love this place, don’t you?”

”You bet.”

”Mice and demons and all?”

”And the catatonic vampire in the bedroom. Yeah.”

Wes would have preferred not to think about Angel. ”I think he’s improving. 
He looked at me today. At least I think he looked at me.”

There was a moment’s pause as neither of them said anything, and then Gunn 
got off the couch, grabbing Wes and kissing him hard.

”What’s... mmm... that for?” Wes asked.

”For being a good guy.”

There had been a time when Gunn wouldn’t have considered him a good guy for 
caring about a vampire, but Wes didn’t feel like bringing that up. Not with 
Gunn’s hands doing such very lovely things to his skin.

***

Dawn was almost breaking and Alonna was getting ready for a few hours’ 
shut-eye, when she saw a young woman approaching the headquarters. She 
hesitated for so long before approaching that Alonna got a really good look 
at her. What she saw was a pretty but unnotable black woman: medium weight 
and and height, neither really dark or really light, hair kind of like 
Alonna’s had been before, but a little bit lighter. She was dressed in jeans 
and a top, which was simple enough, but they were new and stylish, which 
meant she definitely wasn’t from their part of town.

The woman took a few steps closer, but then doubled back again, looking 
ready to bolt.

”You looking for someone?” Alonna called, taking pity on her.

”No,” the woman started, looking nervous. ”Well, yes, actually. Charlie 
Gunn. I was told he lives here?”

’Charlie’? Alonna raised her eyebrows. Who had this woman been talking to? 
Nobody called Gunn ’Charlie’; it had been years since anybody tried. ”Well, 
you got bad info, then,” she said. ”He moved out. I’m in charge now.”

”Oh. Sorry to disturb, then.” She turned to leave, and then seemed to change 
her mind, asking, ”Do you know where I can find him?”

”Sure,” Alonna said, and maybe it was cruelty that made her continue: ”He 
lives further north, with his boyfriend.”

The woman looked upset. Old girlfriend, maybe? But Alonna was pretty sure 
she knew of all Gunn’s old girlfriends.

”Boyfriend? As in...”

”As in just what you’d think, yeah,” Alonna said, softer this time. ”Do you 
know Gunn?”

”A long time ago,” the woman said slowly. ”I take it you do too.”

”I’m his sister.”

”Alonna? You’re Alonna?”

So she *did* know Gunn, it wasn’t just something she was saying. ”That’s 
right. And you are?”

”I’m... Luisa.”

She was lying, Alonna was sure of it. But why? If Gunn knew her under 
another name, he’d say so, and furthermore, this ’Luisa’ person had to 
*know* he would say so. ”Funny, I can’t recall him ever mentioning you.”

”I don’t imagine he would.” Luisa’s eyes didn’t leave Alonna for a second. 
It was pretty unsettling, like she knew all kinds of things she didn’t tell.

”I bet he told you about *me*,” she said, trying to sound flippant to hide 
the fact that she was prying.

”Yeah. I knew about you.”

The was a long pause. Luisa didn’t seem about to leave, or ask for Gunn’s 
address, or do anything else except stare at Alonna in that creepy way.

”Anything I can do for you?” Alonna finally asked, to put a stop to the 
silence.

”I kind of need a place to stay.”

It was an admission Alonna had heard dozens of times, in the same apologetic 
tone. But *this* chick? The thought of having her around all the time, 
thinking God knew what, was creepy. On the other hand, it wasn’t like she 
could leave her to be eaten by vampire.

Of course, there was always door number three: direct her to Anne. She was a 
bit old for it, but Anne wasn’t the kind to kick out a stray just for 
pushing thirty. Which would have been fine if it hadn’t been for the issue 
of curiosity - if anyone was to find out what was up with this woman, it 
sure as hell wasn’t going to be *Anne*.

”Sure,” she said. ”Just one thing first... you got to breathe in my face.”

Luisa gave her an incredulous look, but as she saw that Alonna wasn’t 
kidding, she came over and did it. Her breath was warm and - fortunately - 
fresh. No vampire, at least.

”Okay!” Alonna said. ”Come on down, meet the guys.”

”The guys?” Luisa asked.

”The rest of the gang. What? You didn’t think it’d just be the two of us?”

Luisa looked queasy. It struck Alonna that considering what she’d said about 
Gunn’s boyfriend, the question might have been mistaken for a come-on. She 
felt more annoyed at the idea than anything else.

”It’s not really a gang, is it?” Luisa asked.

”No initiation rites,” Alonna said, ”no violent crime, and the only ones we 
kill are the vampires. You do know about the vampires, right?”

Luisa nodded faintly. ”Real ones, yeah?”

”Real ones,” Alonna confirmed, going down the stairs.

A couple of the others were already asleep. Alonna scanned the different old 
mattresses and fold-up beds they’d salvaged from containers, trying to 
figure out where to put Luisa - or where to put herself, for that matter. 
Rondell caught her eye and patted to the spot behind him on the broken 
couch. She gave a tiny nod towards Luisa, showing him that she had to find a 
spot for her first.

Ah, there! A cot was still folded up against the wall. Alonna felt 
triumphant when she folded it down and offered it to Luisa. ”Here you go.”

Luisa smiled, but there was a hint of a wrinkle by her nose. Yeah, she 
*definitely* hadn’t been on the streets for long, this one. ”Thank you.”

Alonna gave her a quick nod and headed over to Rondell. Since it was so 
close to sunrise, she kicked off her shoes before lying down next to him. 
Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she noticed Luisa still staring at her, 
and so she took care to turn her back and lie close to Rondell.

”Put your arm around me,” she murmured.

”Yeah?” He sounded surprised, but he put his arm around her without asking 
any more questions. She snuggled in close. It wasn’t cold enough to really 
make it necessary, but she wanted mystery lady to see as little of her as 
possible. Without a blanket, this was the best she could do.

***

Gunn couldn’t wrap his mind around the two on the stage. He kept feeling 
that he should do something about it - kill the big-ass demon, save the 
girl, something like that. Trouble was, he had no weapons, and in any case 
the place was full of signs that said violence wasn’t permitted. The two of 
them weren’t acting like they should have, either. The demon should have 
been trying to eat the girl, and the girl should scream. They definitely 
shouldn’t be leaning in on each other all teary-eyed, singing ”With a Little 
Help From My Friends.”

”I thought I’d find you here,” Wes’s voice said behind him.

He smiled a little. ”Yeah, well, I’m trying to figure out how I’ve lived all 
my life in LA and never knew this place existed.” Turning around, he 
continued, ”And you’ve been here, what? A year? You find it just like that.”

”I asked,” Wes said, sitting down.

”You asked for a demon karaoke bar?”

”I asked for a place to *live*, as you very well know.”

”Yeah, yeah.” Gunn waved that away, watching the duo on stage finish their 
tune. A thought struck him. ”You’re not going to sing *today* though, are 
you? Because if you’re as bad as last time, I may have to pretend I don’t 
know you.”

”Thank you,” Wes said dryly. ”I fully intend to let *you* sing next time. 
Today, no one at all needs to sing. I already know our future.”

He leaned back in the chair, looking smug. It took a while for Gunn to get 
what he was on about, and then it clicked.

”Those scrolls. You figured them out.”

”Not all of them, but the bit about us, yes.”

”So what’s the news?”

”Verbatim as far as I can translate it: ’The blue leader of young and the 
wrong-made former onlooker will meet the blood-drinker with a soul. They 
shall then hold the position until the world turns once more.’ ”

Gunn blinked. ”Huh?”

”Just giving you a taste of what translation is like,” Wes said with a 
tight-lipped smile. ”Care to untangle it, or should I?”

Well, he didn’t mind playing puzzle games for a while. Sure beat listening 
to the music. ”Blood-drinker with a soul is pretty clear. I guess I’m the 
leader of young...” He wasn’t anymore, but he brushed that thought aside. 
”Why ’blue’?”

”The Majar’s had a very limited vocabulary regarding colour,” Wes said. 
”Blue can simply mean...”

”Black,” Gunn filled in.

”Dark, anyway. Pitch-black is a different word. I suppose you don’t 
qualify.”

”I’m so disappointed,” Gunn deadpanned. ”Okay, so I’m blue, and you’re a 
wrong-made former onlooker...” The answer came to him as he spoke. 
”Ex-Watcher, right?”

”Right.”

”What’s up with this ’wrong-made’, though? Does it mean you made something 
that was wrong, or that you were made the wrong way, or what?”

”The latter, really,” Wes said. ”Defect manufacturing.”

”Like a disability?” Gunn guessed. ”Damn. Suddenly ’blue’ seems like a 
downright compliment.”

”Doesn’t it?” Wes agreed. ”The rest is tied in to the whole section about 
the vampire with a soul, so I’ll spare you the trouble: Apparently the 
vampire - Angel - is going to play a major part in the Apocalypse, but not 
until the world has turned twice. It seems it has already turned once, and 
that whatever Angel’s destiny is, we are to hold that position until the 
next time it turns.”

”So that makes us - what? His stand-ins?”

”Either that, or simply his caretakers, making sure he’s *there* for the 
apocalypse.”

Gunn contemplated that. ”Well, that’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, it does 
kind of indicate that he’ll snap out of it sooner or later? I mean, he can’t 
play a major part in *anything* by just lying on a bed, right?”

”I wouldn’t count on it,” Wes said, looking very tired all of a sudden. ”In 
any case, what does the phrase ’sooner or later’ mean when it comes to an 
unaging creature like a vampire?” He sighed, shook his head and waved for 
one of the waiters. ”Hi, I’d like a double Scotch, please.”

Gunn raised his eyes at seeing a forked tail when the waiter walked away. 
”This place is fucking weird.”

The Host - and who would have thought there were *flaming* demons except in 
the literal sense? - was coming up to their table with the duo from before 
in tow, and hearing what Gunn said he replied, ”Ah, ’fucking’ and ’weird’, 
two of the prettier words in the English language. Are you enjoying 
yourselves, my little crumpets?”

”Oddly enough, yeah,” Gunn said. He smiled at the girl behind the Host and 
after a moment’s hesitation extended the smile to her demon companion as 
well. The girl was very clearly pregnant, and he *really* hoped it wasn’t 
the demon’s baby.

”Good!” The Host waved for the other two to step forward. ”Now, I don’t 
usually run errands for the Powers, but since your own messenger is out of 
the loop for the time being, I figured they can owe me one. Jo, Kamal, these 
are the fellows I was telling you about. Guys, meet your new clients. Now, I 
have some futures to attend to. Play nice, kidlets!”

The Host left and the two others sat down at the table. Jo gave Gunn and Wes 
a shy, appraising look. ”So you two have a... what? Research agency?”

”Something like that,” Wes said, offering a handshake. Jo returned it with a 
tiny smile, the demon - Kamal - without any emotion showing in his face. 
”I’m Wes Pryce. This is my partner, Charles Gunn.”

”Hi,” Gunn said.

Jo reached out her hand to him as well. Gunn’s own hand was still all 
bandaged up, but no worse than that he could return the gesture. After that, 
he kind of *had* to shake with the demon.

Kamal seemed well aware of Gunn’s doubts, because he said, ”I assure you, I 
am not going to hurt you.” His voice was low and surprisingly pleasant.

”Sorry,” Gunn said, feeling his face heat. He’d shown his prejudice, and the 
gracious way the demon took it just made the whole thing worse. ”I’m just 
used to...”

”*Fighting* demons?” Kamal suggested.

”Well... yeah.”

Jo jerked her chin up. ”He’s my protector.”

”So, how can we assist you?” Wes interrupted, clearly doing his best to 
compensate for the way the conversation had started.

”It is actually your demon-fighting skills we require,” Kamal said and then 
corrected himself: ”That is to say, the know-how. I can outmatch the best of 
them with sheer force, but...” he shrugged.

”Sometimes sheer force won’t do the trick,” Wes said. ”Yes. It does seem 
like we could help you out, there.”

”So you’re some champion of good?” Gunn asked, fascinated by the idea.

”You could say that,” Kamal replied slowly. ”My mission is to protect 
*her*.”

He nodded towards Jo’s belly, which made it pretty much impossible *not* to 
look there.

”’Her’ as in Jo?”

”’Her’ as in my baby,” Jo said with a smile and stroke a hand across her 
belly. ”Apparently she’s some powerful, benevolent Joan of Arc-thing.”

Her tone of voice was derisive, but with evident tenderness.

”Cool,” Gunn said.

”She’s my baby. That’s all that matters.”

”That is not all that matters,” said Kamal. His voice, which had so far been 
mellow, suddenly had a growl in it that sent chills up Gunn’s spine. ”She is 
the Speaker. Without her, the world will plunge into darkness and despair.”

His words were followed by silence - well, not counting the demon belting 
out ’Blue Moon’ on the stage.

”Well, then,” Wes finally said. ”Sounds like a worthy cause to me.”

***

Gunn put Wes’s books down on the floor and then proceeded to take a look 
around. He figured if and when Wes needed an extra pair of eyes to browse 
the pages for demons, he’d say so.

For a demon lair in an underground bunker, Kamal’s place was downright cosy. 
There was even a freaking Buddha statuette in a corner. He was starting to 
feel rather jaded on the topic of demons working for the side of good, but 
demons looking for enlightenment? Seriously weird, in an awesome way.

”So you guys do this for a living?”

He drew his hand back from the statuette and smiled at Jo. ”Yup.”

”Does it pay well?”

”Depends on the circumstances,” he said. Didn’t take a genius to figure out 
why she asked. ”If it’s a rich client with a personal case, we can charge 
pretty well. Saving the world from a plunge into darkness? Totally pro 
bono.”

She looked down fidgeting with her hands in her lap. ”Thanks.”

”No problem. Hey, with your pal Kamal around, we stand a pretty good chance 
at getting out in one piece. That’s a fine work benefit if you ask me.”

She laughed, but her laughter was uncomfortable. He’d taken the joke too 
far. After all, it wasn’t *her* job to be demon-bait - it was just something 
that happened to her willy-nilly.

”Sorry,” he said. ”Bad taste.”

”No.” She swallowed hard. ”It just kind of freaks me out, having you two 
here.”

O-kay. ”You’re chumming with Kamal, but me and Wes freak you out?”

”Kamal makes me think we can beat this,” she said in a low voice. ”You 
two...” Her voice died away, and her gaze rested briefly on Gunn’s face 
before sliding away to Wes. Little flushes of red were forming on her 
cheeks.

Gunn knew that kind of half-glance, had witnessed a lot of them and been 
guilty of a few, but boy was it ever strange to be on the receiving end. 
They needed to get out more, he thought wryly. Almost a month had passed 
since he was blown up; gawking strangers should be old news by now. Yet 
another month and he’d be more or less *healed*, for crying out loud.

It struck him that she really had no idea what she was dealing with. Unless 
Kamal was a much more melodramatic guy than he seemed, this Tribunal thing 
was Jo’s last chance. Fuck that up and she’d never have to worry about scars 
or missing limbs ever again - not for more than ten minutes. That seemed 
like a bleak thing to tell her, though.

He doubted she’d be much more comforted if he pointed out that Wes and he 
were doing pretty okay if you considered what kind of enemies they faced. As 
far as he was concerned, he was still moving *up* in the world.

Someone or something started pounding on the vent that served as a door. 
Both Gunn and Wes rushed to their feet, but Kamal was even faster, taking 
position by the vent before the rest of them had even had time to start 
looking for weapons.

”Oh, God, not again,” Jo moaned, her eyes wide with fear.

Gunn fumbled in his pockets and found a stake. He really hoped that whatever 
attacked them would be somewhat stakeable.

”You got anything?” he asked Wes.

Wes held up a jackknife and gave an apologetic shrug. ”I thought I’d be here 
for the research.”

”You are,” Kamal barked. ”Both of you. Ready?”

Without waiting for an answer, he opened the vent. The demon on the other 
side charged, and Kamal started pummelling it. It definitely didn’t *look* 
stakeable, but Gunn ran up to the fight anyway, only to find himself 
backhanded by Kamal so hard it made his ears ring.

”What did I tell you?”

Gunn sat back on the floor, staring up at the two big demons going at it. 
”What, research *now*?”

Wes handed his knife over to Jo and started leafing through his books. 
”Mongolian,” he muttered, ”or possibly Tibetian. I should have brought 
Hizel’s compendium.”

Gunn pulled himself off the floor and sat down next to Wes, glancing towards 
the vent. Okay, big-ass demon, kind of greenish, red thing on its forehead. 
He picked up a volume in dark brown leather, recognizing it as one that 
actually classified demons based on shit like that rather than where they 
were from or the names of their relatives.

Meanwhile, Kamal slammed the creature’s face into the vent door a couple of 
times and then kicked it out, closing the vent behind it.

”It’s strong,” he said, putting his back to the door as the pummelling 
started again. ”Most would have died by now. Have you found anything?”

”Getting there,” Wes said, browsing the book in a frantic pace.

Gunn looked up ”foreheads”, figuring that it would be the most recognizable 
sign. Horns, ridges... bingo! Jewel. He browsed the entries, found the right 
demon and started reading up.  ”Mohra,” he said out loud.

”Of course!” Wes said. ”Regenerative abilities - one of those ’one weakness 
only’ types.”

”Great,” Kamal said,  having some difficulty holding the door back. ”So 
what’s the weakness?”

Gunn skimmed his entry, looking for key words like ”kill” and ”die”. ”Smash 
the jewel!” he said.

Kamal nodded and opened the door again. When the Mohra stumbled inside, 
Kamal punched him hard in the forehead with the side of his fist.

There was a flash of light, and the demon was gone.

”That kicked ass,” Gunn said slowly.

Wes gave him a long look and said ”Good job,” in a tone of voice that made 
Gunn want to have hot, slow sex right then and there. If it hadn’t been for 
the other two present, he’d probably have suggested it.

”Thank you,” Kamal said, closing the door and returning to them. ”I can tell 
that this collaboration will be most... Where did you get that?”

They all followed his gaze to the knife in Jo’s hand. She turned it over and 
held it up for him to see.

”Wes gave it to me,” she said.

Kamal scowled at Wes. ”You armed her?”

”Well, yes,” Wes said, puzzled. ”I couldn’t very well wield a knife while I 
was researching, and it seemed like she might have some use for it.”

”It is my mission to keep her safe. She will not fight.”

Oh boy. Gunn and Wes exchanged a glance.

”Seeing how they’re all after the baby,” Gunn said, ”and the baby is inside 
her, I’m thinking it might be nice for her to have a chance to protect 
herself.”

”Did I not make myself clear?” Kamal growled. ”*I* protect her.”

”Well, that’s all nice and medieval.”

”Stop,” Jo said. She handed the knife back to Wes and gave them both a 
quivering smile. ”I need Kamal a lot more than I need this. Thanks anyway.”

Wes nodded and folded the knife up, putting it in his pocket. ”You’re 
welcome.”

Once Jo didn’t have the knife anymore, Kamal calmed down considerably, and 
the four of them sat down together - Jo on the bed, the rest on the floor. 
Jo stretched out her back and sighed deeply. ”Like that white-faced creep 
before wasn’t enough.”

”White-faced creep?” Wes asked.

Kamal waved it away. ”I killed him. No need to look him up.”

”We’re in an enclosed space,” Gunn said. ”We’re gonna need a better strategy 
than ’oh look, there’s a demon, what’s its name?’ ”

”Perhaps we could make a list of all the demons who have shown an interest 
in the baby so far,” Wes suggested. ”It is quite possible that they have 
allies who’ll give it another try.”

”Most of those demons, I killed,” Kamal said, folding his arms. ”Their kin 
will give me no trouble.”

”They will if they show up in great numbers,” Gunn pointed out. ”If we could 
find a quicker way to off them, it might be helpful.”

”Also, some demons have been known to form cross-species alliances,” Wes 
said. ”Checking for that would give us a chance to prepare ourselves.”

Kamal took a moment to consider the proposition. ”Very well. As you say, it 
is a place to start.”

Jo was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed. It surprised Gunn that she 
could be so passive when it was ultimately her life at stake. Sure, she had 
the baby to consider, but Gunn had a hard time picturing Alonna in the same 
situation just sitting around while others fought her battles.

Then again, Alonna had been doing this since she was a kid. All this was 
brand new to Jo, and Kamal didn’t seem inclined to let her take much 
responsibility. The guy was probably hundreds of years old, and if you lived 
underground all your life maybe it wasn’t so surprising if you missed the 
whole women’s lib thing.

Whatever else you could say about Jo, she was a very good observer, though. 
When it came to giving details on what the different demons had looked like, 
she was a lot better than Kamal and even found some of the demons without 
much help from Wes or Gunn.

Gunn wrote down the names and characteristics of each demon, trying to find 
ways they connected. After a couple of hours, the sheet was full, lines and 
questionmarks going between the words.

”I think that’s the last one,” Jo said.

”Wow.” Gunn shook his head. ”You’ve got a lot of enemies, girlie.”

Wes kicked him on the shin, hard.

”That is why we need the Tribunal,” Kamal said. ”If I beat their champion in 
battle, they will protect Jo and the child for the next 18 years.”

Gunn whistled. ”Sounds like a pretty sweet deal. What happens if you lose?”

Jo and Kamal exchanged a glance. ”Then her life is forfeit.”

New sounds of pounding came from the door. Kamal jumped up and took 
position. Gunn picked up a book, although he was aching to take part in the 
battle.

Once the door opened, Gunn immediately recognized the demon as one Jo had 
described before. He couldn’t remember the killing method, but evidently the 
others could, because both Wes and Jo said, ”Cut off his head and burn it!”

Kamal took a firm grip around the demon’s neck and pulled. The head came off 
like a Christmas cracker, spreading blueish blood across the floor.

”Matches,” Kamal said.

Jo reached for a matchbook by the Buddha statue and tossed it to Kamal. 
Before he had time to light one, a bright flash of light came from the other 
side of the room. Gunn and Wes both stumbled back, and Wes pulled out his 
jackknife faster than Gunn would have thought possible.

It wasn’t a new demon. It was a new *place*, a vast courtyard stretching out 
past the walls of the room. In the middle there were a couple of thrones, 
with some very grave-looking creatures sitting on them.

No doubt that this was the Tribunal. Pretty grim-looking crowd; Gunn 
*really* hoped Kamal could take their guy.

***

They walked home in silence and were already in their own building when Gunn 
said, ”Well, that was... weird.”

Wes agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. The only joustings he had seen 
before had been games played for show by people with a penchant for history, 
and he had never in his life seen a demon on horseback. Well, unless one 
counted illustrations in illuminated Bibles and such things. It had been a 
fascinating thing to watch Kamal fight the other champion, and he half 
regretted not being a Watcher anymore, since he would have loved to recount 
the experience for posterity. Maybe he ought to write it down never the 
less, make a diary of interesting cases for his own use, if not for anyone 
else’s.

”It was a good case,” he said.

”Not to mention we got out of it alive *and* we got some money out of it,” 
Gunn said. ”*After* I told her it was pro bono. I don’t know that I would 
pay for something if I didn’t have to.”

”Gratitude is easier if you have some way to return the favour, I suppose.” 
Wes unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. He was 
starting to get hungry, and he realized that they had forgotten to feed 
Angel. Stepping into the kitchen, he took a bag of blood from the 
refrigerator.

”Oh, shit!” Gunn made a grimace. ”I completely forgot about that!”

”Me too.” Wes placed the bag inside a large mug and found a pair of scissors 
to cut it open. When he had emptied the bag, he fished it out and brought 
the mug to Angel’s room.

He was rather worried what he might find, but the vampire seemed no worse 
off than usual. When they entered, Angel even lifted his head a little, his 
nostrils flaring as he made a keening noise in his throat.

Wes stopped short, stunned by what he’d seen and heard.

”Did he just...?” Gunn asked in a low voice.

Wes nodded, feeling as if a great bubble of relief and happiness had burst 
inside him. He smiled at Angel, who made no sign of recognizing him but 
reached greedily for the bag of blood when Wes came closer.

Gunn leaned towards the doorframe with a big grin on his face, watching 
Angel drink. ”I guess now we know both his nose and his eyes work right.”

”And his voice.” Wes had his arm around Angel’s back, but felt little of his 
weight: not only was Angel holding the bag on his own, he was trying to 
*sit*. ”He’s really better.”

”Yeah.” Gunn came closer and put his hand on Wes’s shoulder. Wes leaned into 
the touch, half wanting to let everything go and have sex with Gunn right 
then and there. He couldn’t very well drop Angel mid-feeding, though, and 
they should probably pick another room for it anyway.

Gunn seemed to be thinking the same thing, because when Angel had swallowed 
the last drops of blood, Gunn gave a small but urgent squeeze.

Wes nodded, slowly helping Angel lie back down.

”Well then,” he said, standing up straight. ”I guess that’s that for today.”

”For him, yeah,” Gunn said, wrapping himself around Wes’s back. ”Not for 
us.”

Wes smiled and turned around in the embrace, feeling certain parts of Gunn’s 
anatomy press against him. It made him quite horny in return. ”Not here,” he 
warned.

”’ Dear Abby’,” Gunn said, reaching down for Wes’s fly. ” ’My boyfriend 
refuses to have sex in front of the vampire. Is this normal? Fuckless in 
LA.’ ’Dear Fuckless in LA. Your boyfriend needs to learn that the vampire 
doesn’t give a shit even when he’s not completely catatonic. Best of luck in 
buying him a clue. Abby.’ ”

Wes had to laugh - and then he moaned as Gunn opened the zipper and started 
rubbing his dick. He hurried to open Gunn’s fly as well, and pushed closer 
so that the two of them were rubbing against each other.

Leaving the room was no longer an option. Wes glanced over at Angel, who was 
fortunately turned against the wall. Could he hear them? At the very least, 
he could probably smell them.

Gunn was kissing his jaw, and Wes closed his eyes, not caring at all anymore 
about the where and the how of it all. They backed up until Gunn was pushed 
against the wall and Wes was pushing against him, bodies so close Wes could 
feel Gunn’s every muscle moving against his - until the heat built up in his 
body and he could feel nothing at all except the pulses of pleasure 
emanating from his crotch.

This time they were lucky. It wasn’t until they were finished and stood 
panting against the wall, kissing drops of sweat away from each other’s 
faces, that the phone rang.

”These are *not* office hours!” Gunn groaned as if the phone could hear him.

The rings continued. Finally Wes sighed and did up his fly, tired of hearing 
the noise. ”Do you want me to get it?”

Gunn made a gruff noise and rolled his eyes. Wes chose to take that as a yes 
and went into the livingroom. He rather hoped it was a client of means.

”Pryce,” he said into the phone.

”Oh, hey, Wes.”

Alonna. Quite the opposite of a client of means, then. ”Hello, Alonna. Is 
something the matter?”

”No...” Her voice suddenly sounded muffled, as if she had taken the phone 
away from her mouth. ”I don’t think so, anyway. I just need to talk to Gunn 
about something.”

”Just a second.” Wes would have expected Gunn to follow into the livingroom, 
out of curiosity if nothing else, but he hadn’t. ”Alonna’s on the phone!”

That got Gunn into the room in an instant. He ran up to the phone and 
grabbed it from Wes’s hand, giving a breathless, ”Hey. Trouble?”

Wes sat down on the couch, listening to Gunn’s end of the conversation.

”No,” Gunn said, frowning, ”never heard of her. -- Well, if it’s not her 
real name, how am I supposed to... -- That could describe a million 
different people. -- No, no-one comes to mind. What’s the problem, anyway, 
do you think she’s dangerous? -- Uh-huh. Well, okay, I’ll come over later 
today and see if I recognize her. -- Bye.”

He hung up and shook his head. ”I swear that peroxide has gone to her brain. 
She asked me to identify some woman over the phone who may or may not be an 
old girlfriend of mine and may or may not be using a false name.”

Wes frowned. ”Do you have a lot of old girlfriends Alonna doesn’t know 
about?”

”I can’t think of a single one. So I guess I’ll have to get down there to 
see what’s it all about.”  He sat down on the couch next to Wes and ran his 
finger down his lover’s jaw before leaning in for a kiss. ”Not quite yet, 
though.”

***

Alonna had to admit that after a while, being around Luisa wasn’t so bad. At 
least the other woman had stopped staring at her like she was some strange 
animal at the zoo. Another thing Alonna had noticed was that while Luisa 
still acted like the quarters were a dump - which, admittedly, they were - 
some things she said and did implied that it wasn’t the first such dump she 
had slept in during her life. It made Alonna wonder if she should be asking 
a different question - not how long Luisa had been *on* the street, but how 
long she had been *off* it. She just seemed a little too streetwise to be a 
rookie.

In other ways, she seemed far too clueless to be anything else - though 
after all these years of vampires sneaking up on her, Alonna kind of 
appreciated a woman who announced her presence by wearing heels.

”Hey,” she said, looking up from her work.

”Hi,” Luisa said. ”What are you doing?”

”Stakes.” At Luisa’s blank expression, she added, ”You know, to kill 
vampires?”

”Oh.” Luisa looked a little queasy. She sat down on the floor, feet to one 
side, and prodded one of the stakes with her finger.

”You ever killed a vampire?” Alonna asked, knowing what the answer would be.

”No.” Luisa smiled a little. ”I’ve run from a few.”

”Running’s usually where it starts.”

”Have you killed a lot?”

”Not on my own. They’re harder to kill than you’d think.” Alonna thought 
about it, and shrugged. ”I guess over the years there’s been a few.”

”You’ve been doing this long, huh?” There was a surprising sadness in 
Luisa’s voice, like it was somehow her fault.

”Since I was a kid,” Alonna said simply. ”Course, first I was bait and Gunn 
would off the vamps.”

”He made you *bait*!?”

Alonna stared at Luisa, baffled by her sudden anger. ”Yeah. He always took 
care of me and everything. It’s not like he’d let me out there alone with no 
backup.”

A shadow blocked the entrance. Alonna looked up and found Gunn coming down 
the stairs.

”Speak of the devil,” she said, grateful to get out of the conversation.

The expression on Gunn’s face stunned her, though. For a moment he stood 
frozen, and when he spoke, he pushed out the words as if he found it 
difficult:

”She’s a vampire.”

”What?” Alonna looked from Gunn to Luisa, who had tears in her eyes. ”No, 
she’s not.”

Gunn lunged forward, pulling a stake from his pocket, and Alonna had to step 
between the two of them.

”What the hell are you *doing*?” she asked, grabbing Gunn’s arms.

He struggled against her, and she had to fight with all her strength to stop 
him from driving the stake in. Luisa had taken a few steps back, but not far 
enough to be safe.

”She’s a *vampire!”

”No she isn’t!” she hollered in his face. ”You think I don’t know a vampire 
when I see one? I’ve *tested* her!”

Gunn’s efforts faded - he was still struggling against her grip, but it was 
automatic, not with any real purpose. He stared at Luisa like he’d seen a 
ghost.

”I’m not a vampire, Charlie,” Luisa said softly. ”You can feel my breath if 
you like - Alonna has.” She smiled at Alonna. ”Or take my pulse.”

Gunn shook his head in disbelief. ”You’re dead.”

”Past tense,” Luisa said. ”I *was* dead.”

That scared Alonna more than any vampire could have. Dead? Dead how? ”Who 
are you?” she demanded, letting go of Gunn to grab Luisa’s arm. ”How do you 
know Gunn?”

”It’s mom,” Gunn said, his voice all choked up.

Alonna’s brain stopped working. *Mom?*

Luisa smiled at Gunn, and then at her. The tears in her eyes had started to 
spill over. ”I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry.”

*Mom?* Memories came flooding up in Alonna’s mind - hands tucking her in at 
night, a warm voice singing pop songs in the kitchen, someone showing her 
all the birds that had gathered on the pier.

Those were the hands. That was the voice. This was the someone - but it 
couldn’t be. No way was Luisa more than thirty, tops.

And mom had been twenty-seven when she died.

So, not an old girlfriend at all. And the stuttered name had been a way to 
avoid saying...

”Lois,” Alonna said out loud, watching her mother’s eyes widen. ”Not Luisa. 
Jesus...”

She was finding it hard to breathe, and sat down on the floor. It explained 
so much, and yet it explained nothing at all.

”Why?” she asked. ”And *how*?”

Luisa - Lois - mom - sat down as well, taking her hand.

”I was brought back,” she said, looking up at Gunn as she added, ”To be with 
you.”

***