TITLE: Strange Places 1/6
AUTHOR: Jaydn Michelle
RATING: M+ to R. This is an EXTREME A/U - based around the episode 'The Wish'.
PAIRING: B/G - it takes a little while, but it does get there, so be patient.
DISCLAIMERS: The characters of Buffy, Giles, Ethan and co. is the property of Joss Whedon - only borrowing them.
NOTES: Dialogue for the episode 'The Wish' was originally written by Marti Noxon, and is reproduced here without permission. Dialogue for 'Welcome to the Hellmouth' was originally written by Joss Whedon and, again, is reproduced without permission - don't sue me guys, I'm only a poor Giles-deprived individual…
ARCHIVE: If anyone wants it, take it, but let me know beforehand please.
SPECIAL THANKS to Rari, who had a cunning plan to make me finish this fic - and damn, it worked.

Let them think what they may…but I never meant to drown myself. I meant to swim till I sank, and that's not the same thing. - Joseph Conrad.

Kohl make-up and combat boots.

He can't appreciate the difference - it's too drastic - a far cry from the girl seen briefly through the darkened windows of Whistler's car. He'd seen innocence once in all of its cowed glory and had fallen in love from afar. Smoke and mirrors, the first ray of childhood long gone, and she's staring at him hard. Had he spoken? Yes. Yes he had, calling her name desperately; catch in his voice and Angel felt no shame. Salvation, light, innocence… these are a few of my favourite things.

A caged bird beating dark wings and he didn't need to breathe - *breathe* - because she was standing before him and he did suddenly; needed oxygen and air and light. Too many years spent screaming in the hollows of his mind - flicker of flame, open caress - the Master smiling benignly with canine teeth. She was *meant* to have come but much sooner than this.

//Buffy? Buffy Summers?//

Exchange of words and Angel rises, something dark beating in the caverns of his heart.

It would stay in his mind later, lodged with a thousand memories, few of them pleasant.

Buffy hadn't known, separated by bars and metal, the distrust in her eyes palpable, but she hadn't known. He doesn't care to think about it, in truth, Angel doesn't have *time* to think about it. The Master's voice rising in a cadence of demonic glee, over-riding the whimpers of misery. Humanity trapped in the corner, beaten back, and Angel saw not a flicker of compassion on the features of this girl/woman. Buffy hadn't known he wasn't human; it had been the crucifix, hanging from her neck that had given him away. His cry ringing out as he flinched backwards… and the look on Buffy's face had been disgust.

For him? For what he was; or because she suspected Angel's presence as a feeble plan to capture her? It could have been either, neither was a source of comfort.

That first instant - chained to the wall in the Master's den - and her eyes had swept *over* him, dismissed him, walked away in casual regard, and it's *that* thought that stops Angel cold. Because Buffy hadn't known he wasn't human…and would have left him to his fate anyway.

He tries to see her - the girl in the puffy blue coat - the one who had squealed when first confronted with a vampire, the one Merrick had found; the one he had fallen in love with and never met. Tries to see past the jagged scar running up-side her lip, the cargo pants and lifeless demeanour…some semblance, ghost, whisper. She stared at him with assassin's eyes.

//What's the plan?//

Pointed stake carved to an edge. "Don't fall on this."

**********************

It coiled around her frame like tendrils of smoke. The gem stirred, searing her flesh as the world dissolved; summoned, catapulted; sense of expectation and a raging hate… Her name was Anyanka, and she had been born in the year of our Lord 935.

She had been human once, Anyanka knew it for a fact, yet the associative memories were diminished. She had been hurt once too, but it meant little; torn clothes and promises broken. Her hate was edged in habit. A thousand years of vengeance and Anyanka couldn't recall what had set her on the path to begin with.

Rush of salt water on a northern breeze and the world reshaped itself.

Scent of dry manuscript. Incense. Books piled haphazardly on the steps to a staircase. Warm climes in an apartment steeped with age and mysticism. Elemental magic…as cast by a male.

Her lips had drawn into a snarl even before she sighted him - and for a bare instant - he looked almost as surprised as she:

"Do you have any idea what I do to a man who uses that spell to summon me?"

His expression flickered, surprised triumph replaced by trepidation, but his voice remained steady: "Cordelia Chase…what did she wish for?"

He's not what the demon expected - wrong gender for one thing, wrong demeanour for another - and the man is not intimidated by her presence. Head tilted, Anyanka emerged from the dark, whisper of cloth and a sensuous glide; the man had enough sense to back away. "I had no idea her wish would be so… exciting. A brave new world. I hope she liked it."

"She's dead."

"It happens."

Absurd that his thoughts should turn to a movie trailer, Tom Hanks cheerful face and a proclamation of: "Gump happens. In cinemas near you." He'd never seen the film.

Life's a box of chocolates if you went through life oblivious - and Giles had never been blind. Mores the pity - because he was certain he wouldn't be alive much longer either. "You're going to change it back…"

*************************

They parted, sliding through the crowd in opposite directions. Angel kept his gaze down as he drifted through the assembled vampires - body marked with burns and half drained - a thirst that couldn't be quenched without blood. Moving away from the Slayer had seemed imperative, but the scent of fear permeated the room. The Master's demonstration of the processing plant had been utilised to brutal effect; blood carried on the air and the demon inside of him howled.

Flash of red hair, blue-grey eyes that were too old, there was something 'off' about the boy locked within the cage - then pandemonium set loose with the 'twang' of a crossbow bolt.

There was comfort to be found in battle, something old, familiar, peace in the balletic sway of agony and ruin. At the very least, it *warmed* her, physically if nothing else.

Buffy was aware of the crowd, most of them fleeing, shrill cries on a stampede of panic. It offered a measure of protection even as it hindered movement, and she realised belatedly that the vampire had released them.

Ironic that Angel should care where she didn't. Fools rushing past, every one bent on escape. A flicker, stray memory…Jeeves freeing a van load of humans and not one had stayed to help. Her compassion had withered years ago…these fools wouldn't lift a finger to help themselves let alone each other. And what did she care? Her life was slated to be shorter than theirs.

Buffy heard the shout before she saw the assailant, too busy killing someone else. She spun and saw the Master's whelp, Xander, clutching in one hand the arrow she had fired into his shoulder. Then Angel got between them, desperation on his face as he launched himself forward, blocking a killing thrust with his own body. The vampire staggered, eyes wide. A bare second - and then Buffy registered the arrow piercing his chest.

His hand stretched outward as if entreating, agony running like fire as his body crystallised - eternity rushing in with the scream of the damned. Frozen on the cusp of death time stretched outward - and Angel caught her eye. Searching for what? Remorse? Pity? That in some small measure his life and death had been noted, *missed*. She never even blinked.

************************

Blood rushing in his ears and his vision went dim - the grip around his throat tightened. Giles became aware that the demon was talking, ranting like any good homicidal maniac and he didn't have time for it. Eyes fixed on the gem glowing balefully in the shadows, Giles recognised the power source.

He ripped it from her neck and shoved her backwards, the demon staggering as he bolted to the left.

"No! You trusting fool! How do you know the other world is any better than this?!"

He hesitated, weight in hand, meeting Anyanka's eyes as she straightened, fear and avarice in her cold stare, her choice of words ringing in his mind.

There was only one of two ways that this could work - either the gem contained the power to alter the entire world and with it, everybody's memories; in which case, there was no guarantee. Or it contained the power to move one individual into a reality of their *choice*, in which case, the only life he would be saving was Cordelia Chase'. He wasn't sure which of those two scenarios he preferred, because if you looked at it objectively, the first option wasn't true. Anyanka had roamed the world for over a *thousand* years, each wish altering the fabric of reality. Each wish building on the next like a house of cards. The urge to tug was almost irresistible, like pulling on a thread to see what was behind the tapestry, to take it all back. Not the last wish granted, but the very *first*, the one issued a thousand years before - what would the world be like then?

The spider's web of life - infinitely fragile, inter-connected - unravelling one strand at a time. If that first reality were to exist, who would be alive to today and who would never have existed at all? And it didn't matter in the least, because if he destroyed the gem, it would only destroy the *last* wish granted. Cordelia Chase's reality would emerge triumphant and that world, in its own way, was no more true than this.

And if it were the second option that were correct - if Anyanka's power didn't lie in the ability to change the world at whim, but rather in the ability to move through parallel dimensions - then Cordelia Chase had never belonged to this world in the first place.

Destroying the gem wouldn't help his world, but it would save her *life* and in the end, that was the only choice it came down to. A single human life stacked against the unknown, and both options were better than this.

Anyanka's question rang in his mind and he answered it, as calmly as always: "Because it has to be," and brought his arm down.

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