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TITLE: Mockingbird, Part 9
AUTHOR: Tesla and dessert_first
RATING:
SPOILERS:
CHARACTERS: Angel/Anya, Xander/Cordelia, Fred/Gunn/Wesley, Spike/Buffy, Tara/Willow, Gwen/Lilah, Lindsey/Darla
DISCLAIMERS:
SUMMARY:
NOTES: Set in Anya!World.Very AU. In this universe, Darla wasn't re-vamped, Anya got the visions in our previous episodes.
-----
"So," Darla crossed her legs and took a ladylike sip of tea. "Phasic time shift. Clever." She waved her hand in an airy gesture that seemed to take in Anya's entire operation. "It's all terribly clever, my dear. You really do have quite a head for business."
Anya crossed her arms. "I take it you're the fourth Mrs. Frrbrthgrpth's representative, here to tour our facilities. The one who absolutely had to meet me personally before signing on for a very long, very expensive series of post-operative getaways?"
Darla shrugged. "The Frrbrthgrpths owed me a favor."
Anya remained impassive. "And I suppose you're going to tell Angel I've been here in the Hyperion all along."
"Really, Anya. What do you take me for?"
::
"I won't bother to state the obvious, my dear," Darla said cheerfully, walking arm in arm with Anya along the hallway, ignoring her companion's stiff body language. "Parallel dimensions, portal accident, nobody's fault; you know better than anyone how these things will happen."
Anya gestured half-heartedly to the steam rooms. "We keep a variety of temperatures and gases available in separate steam chambers, depending on the needs of our guests."
"Still," Darla continued as if oblivious. "It's not like one can simply ignore the fact that yes, it appears Angel and I somehow managed to procreate in another dimension. And the result of that union is right here in LA, underneath your very nose. I can see how that would be irritating for you."
Anya gritted her teeth. "All our aestheticians and massage therapists are fully certified in at least two dimensions, and trained in a variety of techniques, which they can of course adapt to different physiologies."
"But Anya, dearest, you must remember," Darla stopped, her sudden lack of momentum throwing Anya back against her for a moment. "This isn't about Connor."
Anya frowned, dislodging herself from Darla's grip. "I thought his name was Stephen?"
Darla waved her hand in that all-encompassing, all-dismissive gesture. "He's decided to go by Connor now. Something about an identity change, a shift in his alliances, turning over a new leaf. You know how that goes, don't you Anyanka? Why, it's practically a family tradition! And like it or not..." she slipped her arm through Anya's again and reeled her back in with positively maternal smile. "You are family now."
Darla had definitely missed out on her true calling, Anya reflected. She would have made a world-class vengeance demon.
::
"Fred," Cordelia said, "Do you want to go get ice cream with Angel and me?"
Fred pushed her glasses up her nose with a fore-finger. "I'm kinda workin' on a phasic time-shift, I think I've got it so the coordinates are a lot more precise, and I'm on a roll".
Cordelia set her jacket on the chair. "It would be real ice cream, real Ben and Jerry's," She sighed. "Angel's gonna cry like a big girl if I make him go to the soy bar again."
"Well, I'm tempted, but I really am workin' on this," Fred apologized.
"Please, Fred, please! I love him, I really do, but he's beyond the stage where he says, 'I killed an Uffigi demon with Anya right there,' and 'We were at this stoplight when Anya got the idea for the website name being 'ilovecapitalism.com,' and he's moved on to the place where he says, 'Am I too young for her?' I mean, honey, she dated Xander! Xander's my age!"
"I don't understand what happened, myself," Fred said, shrinking further behind her computer monitor.
"Please! He was all, 'My boy! Our son! My son and Darla's! Of course! Whose else could it be?" Cordelia paused. "I think that's the main thing. That, and the fact that he's never given her any reason to think that he loves her."
Fred bristled. "Yes, he has!"
"Oh, Fred, you've been with those boys so much that you think like them!"
"My boys are plenty romantic!" Fred said, shoving her glasses atop her head. "They tell me they love me all the time! Even out of bed!"
"Well, there you go," Cordelia said, oddly patient. "I don't think Angel does that, or understands that Anya needs that."
::
The Frrbrthgrpth account, Anya reminded herself firmly, was literally worth a fortune. Their clan was notorious for their passion for cosmetic surgery, and extremely well-connected in the demon jet set. She just had to keep reminding herself of that as Darla merrily traipsed all over her nice demon spa, being irritatingly... nice.
"The rooms were all personally decorated by Urgoth the Vizgarthirian," she opened the door to one of the suites, allowing Darla to step in and look her fill. "No expense has been spared in the effort to create an ambiance of absolute peace and tranquility. There's no extra charge for the blood larvae."
Darla hummed her approval, running her fingers along one of the window seats.
"We also offer twenty-four hour room-service with interdimensional delivery options."
Darla hummed again, turning around slowly as she took it all in.
"The staff members have all been recruited from the most exclusive--"
"Anya," she interrupted. "You're as bored by all this as I am. Come, sit." She sat on the king-sized bed, patting the luxurious comforter invitingly.
Anya sat.
"Can we stop pretending what this is about?" Darla asked. "Because we both know it isn't about Connor."
She opened her mouth to protest.
"And it certainly isn't about me, is it?" Darla shook her head. "This is about our dear, foolish boy."
"Angel," Anya said grimly.
::
Fred agreed to go root Angel out of the basement, where he was taking an inventory of various archaic weapons. He didn't look particularly gloomy, to Fred, but then, he didn't look particularly interested in what he was doing.
"Angel!" Cordelia announced, from the top of the stairs, "Time for ice cream, and Fred wants real ice cream, and you need to come!"
Angel set down a sword into a bracken, and wiped his hands. "Why?"
"Because you make Fred and me nervous when you stay in the basement too much," Cordelia said.
"Me!" Fred said. "I--basements are nice, they're dark and cool and there's sewer access---"
"And we're not going to go away."
Angel heaved a tiny sigh, and came up the stairs.
::
"Honestly, I don't know how women got along before they brought chocolate over from the New World," Shoeless, Darla lounged back on the bed, gazing at their platter of truffles with a happy air. "Do you remember, my dear?"
"Ugh." Anya spoke around a mouthful of hazelnut and dark chocolate. "It was awful. And there wasn't even any room service!"
Darla bit into another truffle and let out an ecstatic little sigh. "Belgian," she murmured. "I knew you had good taste."
"So it's not just Angel we agree on," Anya observed. "Chocolate is a great unifier. And it blunts the pain of discussing emotionally taxing issues. I feel much closer to you now, although it still bothers me that Angel slept with you for over a century and now you share the link of a common offspring."
"Well," Darla shrugged philosophically. "Every relationship has its ups and downs."
::
Fred didn't know what Cordelia was talking about; Angel didn't say anything at all about Anya, and the ice cream store visit was listening to a perfect stream-of-consciousness from Cordelia about white shoes.
In her own way, Cordelia was kind of a mistress of psychological warfare, Fred thought. Because Angel thought that Cordelia wasn't watching him, his face was downcast and sad. He was doodling on a napkin.
Fred sneaked a look. It was a profile of Anya.
::
"You've got to take the long view about this sort of thing," Darla advised. "William says--"
"You mean Spike?"
"Spike, yes. Spike says love is--"
"You and Spike discussed love?"
"What did you think we were doing at the launch party?"
"We thought you might be trying to get him to vamp you."
Darla sighed. "Why does everyone always assume the worst when two formerly evil beings get together?"
They looked at each other for a beat.
"Yes, why is that?" Anya guiltily set aside the spellbook and the ceremonial herbs.
::
Everyone's cell phones went off. The guys, obviously, were done taking out the coven. Looking at Angel's set expression, Fred thought that, if Darla didn't get Anya to talk to Angel, she'd have to talk to Anya.
"I'm going to be pulling an all-nighter," Fred said to Angel. "If you, you know, wanna come in the lab and keep me company."
Angel smiled at her. "You don't expect me to understand what you're doing, do you?"
"No," Fred said, relieved. "In fact, you don't have to listen."
Cordelia hung up from a conversation with Xander. "Fred, the guys aren't coming back until tomorrow, so they're saying you should eat the pizza in the fridge."
Fred replied, "Good, because I already did."
::
"It's called 'peanut butter,' darling," Darla spoke into her cellphone. "It's not going to hurt you, I promise. Is it the kind with hydrogenated oils? Cordelia says those are murder... Well, have Lindsey read the label. Did you remember to clean Gunn's axe after you used it? You know how he gets... Two coats of polish? Really? He must have been very pleased."
Anya resisted the temptation to roll her eyes and kept flipping through Vogue. "Bunch of hacks," she muttered, turning another page.
"Yes, I'll be home late, but I imagine you will too... Pizza? Now you're just teasing me, aren't you? You love pizza... Be good, my darling. Talk to you later." She hung up. "What's the competition up to?" she asked cheerfully.
Anya scowled. "Could fur be any more over? Just because we had to wear it in the old days doesn't make it any less ugly. And with today's space-age fabrics, there's really no excuse."
"I didn't so much mind fur in the old days," Darla said thoughtfully. "Although I must admit I was rather used to carrion."
::
"Well," Darla lay on her stomach, letting the Boje demon masseuse work the muscles in her legs. "If you choose to lay low for a while, there are worse places to do so. You've created quite a little paradise here, my dear."
"Yes," Anya closed her eyes as her own masseuse worked the kinks out of her back on the adjoining massage table. "And it's good business to keep an eye on things as we get ready for the grand opening. There's a comprehensive incentives package for doctors who pass on referrals to their patients, and we're expecting a mayor turnout once the word gets out. The exchange of services for money can be highly profitable."
"Tell me about it," Darla sighed. "Anyway, things are bound to work out, my dear."
"How do you know that?" Anya asked.
Darla smiled, sweetly. "I'm planning to speak to Angel next."
Sometimes Anya wondered just how firmly attached Darla's soul was.
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