Fic: I Am What I Am (60/67)
Chapter 33: Puppets, Visions, and Judges
"You got it?"
"Yeah," Whistler sighed. "I got it."
"Perfect," Skip smiled, grabbing the box from Whistler. "I'll get started on putting him together, you go work your magic on Angel."
"This is such a terrible idea," Whistler lamented.
"Are you still on that trip? Get over it, man. We're doing the people's work here, getting things back on track."
"You're so full of shit," Whistler snarled. Skip chuckled.
"Someone's cranky. You still moaning about that trip you took to the Oracles? Get over it! Everyone knows the Oracles are just a bunch of pencil pushers anyway, they didn't know the real deal when there still was a real deal. You know what I heard? I heard they were scheduled for replacement in like two years. They'll be lucky if they don't get hacked to pieces by the next millenium."
"Yeah, so where does that put us on the totem pole?" Whistler scowled and sank into a chair. The old abandoned factory that had once been home to Spike and Drusilla was now the headquarters for the Agents of Balance, as Skip kept referring to them.
Skip shrugged and opened the box, dumping the limb with the others in the pile. "Who cares? I get paid, and maybe I get to run England or something when all is said and done. All I know is I'm not getting killed, and I get to meet interesting people. Besides, you're a Balance Demon. What do you care either way, as long as everything's nice and balanced?"
"Cause this isn't Balance. This is stupidity. Say the Judge kills the Slayer and somehow gets rid of Angel's soul, so what then? He's could go on a rampage and kill every human on the planet."
"So?"
"So how the hell is that balance?"
"I don't know, and I don't care. Humans are stupid anyway. What do I care if they get wiped from the face of the earth? More space for us, I say. All I care about is making sure the Grandfather and the Mother survive. The rest of them can go jump off a cliff for all I care. You're a demon, man. You should be happy about getting rid of humans. Now come on. We've got work to do. Oracles say that the Slayer's still alive, and the visions aren't having any effect, so what do you say we send in the big guns? Well, one big gun and one little gun."
Whistler hesitated for one long moment, but they both knew he had no choice. He got up reluctantly, grabbing his old fedora and snakeskin jacket. He was about to go do what he did best, and all he could do was pray that someone stopped him.
The collective Scooby Gang milled around, each discussing their new weapon with the others. Cordelia was very happy to show off Subtlety to anyone who asked, and allowed everyone to examine her tattoo closely if they wished. Buffy and Kendra did some sparring with Honor's Grace and Companion, where Kendra found that she seemed to cause a time freeze for a few seconds every time she first drew the blade from the scabbard. It was an incredible advantage, and meant that realistically she could attack Buffy without the other Slayer being able to offer any defense. She didn't, of course, but it irked Buffy just a little that Kendra had such an amazing advantage.
Although Faith suggested to her through their link that Companion's seeming ability to detect danger before it occured might actually protect against Kendra's pre-emptive attack ability, if she were ever to attack Buffy for real. Not that such a thing was likely to happen, but you could never be too careful on the Hellmouth.
Willow spent her time with Oz helping him examine the new metal exo-skeleton that covered his hands. It seemed to extend halfway up each of his forearms, giving his hands the look of being covered in silvery metallic spiderwebs. So far he'd lost no dexterity or movement with his hands. His main concern was relieved when he found he could still play the guitar as poorly as ever. Still, both Willow and Oz were a little worried about the fact that Oz wasn't able to actually remove the claws.
Giles had yet to find any power besides an enhancement to his own magic, though that was certainly good enough for him. Jenny likewise found her own spells easier to cast when wielding her daggers, and found she could turn her invisibility on and off at will if she were holding them. Buffy claimed to be able to sense where Jenny was as long as she was holding Companion at the time, which meant that Faith also had some inkling of where she was. None of the others were able to track her when she was invisible, save for Angel and Kendra, the first with his sense of smell, and the latter due to extensive training fighting blind.
Jonathon had found no further ability with his staff, other than its transformation into an easily carried cane. Faith had offered to let them prick her finger a few times to test its healing ability, and they found that it was able to heal her virtually instantly every time.
*Hey,* Faith had thought to Buffy. *You should bring J over to your mom, fix whatever that brain thing is she's got.*
It was, in Buffy's opinion, the greatest idea Faith had ever had, and Jonathon promised to come home with her that night and work his newfound magic. Giles had asked to come along as well, just in case. Magical healing was tricky business, particularly when it came to the brain. He felt it was a better idea if he was along to explain the risks to Joyce before she decided whether or not Jonathon should attempt to heal her.
Angel had caused a few more fireballs to go shooting across the room, and had been succesful in guiding the last one slightly. He'd also found, via testing with a small candle, that fire seemed unable to harm him as long as he held Solitude. Since fire was a key weakness of the vampire, it was something he was glad for. It meant that he might be able to fight other vampires with fire, while not worry about being harmed by it himself. He was also looking forward to daytime so he could test (very carefuly, mind you) if sunlight would still burn him. The thought of seeing the sun again...
It would be almost worth not being with Buffy.
The thought reminded Angel of the information he'd gotten from the Gorches. Whistler was the reason he was in Sunnydale in the first place, and it seemed that the short man was somehow behind the attack on Kendra. Now was as good a time as any to bring it up to the others. He slid Solitude into his new scabbard, idly musing on how nice it felt to have the weapon at his side, knowing that if he ever reverted to Angelus it would stop him from hurting anyone.
He was about to clear his throat when the double doors to the library burst open.
"Angel!" Doyle gasped as he stumbled into the room. "Everyone's gotta get out o' here!"
"What? What's wrong?"
"A vision, man! A bloody painful one! Christ, they're all bloody painful, but this one was the worst of the worst. Big blue thing, comin' here, and soon, man. Fries everyone with these energy beams from his hands" He clutched his stomach, and dry-heaved. "God, the stench of it. It's horrible."
"Big blue thing?" Xander gasped, his eyes going wide. "What-What are you talking about?"
"He called himself the Judge," Doyle said, swallowing bile and wincing. "Nasty fella, let me tell you. And he's comin' here!"
"Shit," Xander cursed, grabbing Cleaver II. "Come on guys, we gotta get out of here." He turned to Jenny. "You're going to have to test out that invisibility a lot sooner than we thought."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, confusion etched on her face.
"You're sure about this?" Xander asked Doyle, stepping closer to him.
"A hundred percent, man. This one don't got any conflicts."
"Then we need to get our hands on a rocket launcher," he sighed. "Damn. I knew I should have gotten it just in case." His mind began to race, trying to come up with the best plan. "He's coming here? When?"
"No idea," Doyle admitted. "I just saw him fryin' everyone, but I'd bet a bundle it'll be soon."
"Well he's already over a month late by my calendar," Xander joked lamely. "Okay, we need to get the launcher as soon as possible, and then we have to find out where he is and stop him before he can really power up. Last time he hit the mall first, but he had uh," Xander glanced at Angel. "He had some help that time. We don't know who put him together this time, but the safe bet is it wasn't Spike and Drusilla, unless they un-dusted themselves somehow."
"That's not really an option, is it?" Angel asked.
"With Spike? It kinda is. As a matter of fact, I think Drusilla's the only one of you four who didn't get resurrected at some point. Must be a Scourge of Europe thing."
"Then perhaps we should try the mall anyway," Giles suggested. "On the off-chance that Spike is somehow involved in this as he was in your time."
"Yeah, only I don't like the idea of splitting up. Remember this, guys: The Judge can't be harmed by any weapon forged, and I don't want anyone taking the risk that magically forged weapons don't count. We surprised him in my timeline, and everything I read on the guy afterwards said that we got luckier than we had any right to be. He can fry entire armies with a thought, and each person he kills makes him stronger. We have to hit him hard and fast."
From the shadows of the stacks, Whistler's eyes went wide at the implications of what he was hearing. This kid seemed to know about the Judge, and seemed to be implying that the weapons this group all carried were magically forged.
Jeez. Whistler hadn't heard of a new magically forged weapon in at least a thousand years. The art had been lost long ago, and those few weapons still in existence were either so picky about their bearers as to be worthless, or so generalized that they hardly had an impact in the grand scheme of things. Whistler narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look at some of the weapons held by the people in the library. Even Angel seemed to have one; a short sword that hung at his waist.
As if to offer him the proof he was looking for, one of them stood up. Whistler recognized her. She was supposed to be dead by now, and her continued existence was considered a major hiccup in fate. She was one of a slowly growing number of people with no destiny. They were supposed to be dead, but somehow they were still alive. Likewise, those with destinies of powerful impact had already met their ends.
The teacher, Jenny he remembered her name was, reached to the holster at her hip and smoothly pulled two daggers free. She twirled them expertly. "Just lead the way," she said before blinking out of existence.
Whistler almost gasped out loud, catching himself at the last moment. There went any doubt he had about the true nature of the weapons. Not only were they magical, but they were apparently single bearer weapons that had all found suitable bearers. The odds against that were...
Were about as astronomical as Spike and Drusilla getting dusted before their destined time. Could this all be tied into the strange event which had derailed destiny?
After all, the last he'd heard, there weren't even enough magical weapons in the world for everyone in this room, much less bearer-specific ones. In fact, he knew of only two bearer specific weapons in all the world, and one of those had been imbedded in stone for hundreds and hundreds of years.
There was another question he had also. He recognized the half-brachen demon as the one that had been prompted by the Powers to go to Angel, to try and nudge things back onto track. So far, it hadn't worked. Yet here was Doyle with Angel, telling him of a vision of the Judge.
Why would the Powers be sending visions of the Judge? That went against everything they'd been planning for. A tiny part of him allowed for a flare of hope that the Powers weren't being quite as thick-headed as he suspected. Maybe the plan wasn't to unleash the Judge without warning. Maybe they were already setting into motion a plan which would minimize the damage the Judge would do, just enough to get things back on track. Maybe.
But he doubted it. It didn't matter anyway. He had his orders, and he couldn't do anything about them, even when he was presented with new information that seemed to change everything. It was time he revealed himself. He took a deep breath, and...
A yellow streak slammed into him, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him skidding across the floor and into the middle of the room. He groaned. So much for his entrance.
"Who are you?" demanded the blonde Slayer. He realized she must have been who hit him, but that didn't make much sense. Even the Slayer couldn't tell he was around if he didn't want her to. It was kind of his thing. It looked as if he'd have to do some quick-thinking.
He coughed, sucking in a deep lungful of air. "Gimme a second," he gasped. He looked up to Angel, giving him a pointed look.
"He's Whistler," Angel said, his features darkening, which was not altogether rare where Angel was concerned.
"Whistler," Xander frowned. "I know that name."
"My mom's real famous," Whistler joked. He stood up, dusted himself off, and then reached for his hat, which had fallen to the floor beside him. He placed it back on his head smoothly, and looked around. The gathered group of mostly kids all eyed him warily. This was going to be harder than he thought. Maybe he should have just talked to Angel alone.
"He's a demon," Buffy growled. "And he was spying on us. I felt him." She held Companion tightly in one hand, looking quite eager to use it.
"Could I just uh, you know, interject here?" Doyle asked. "If yer gonna stick him with yer sword there, could it be fer the spyin' thing, and not the demon thing? I mean uh, I heard that uh, some demons, you know, they ain't all bad. Some of 'em."
"I wasn't spying," Whistler argued. "Just gettin' a feel for things before I said hello. I'm an old friend of Angel's, ain't that right?"
"Angel doesn't have old friends," Cordelia scoffed. "Angel doesn't even have new friends!"
"Hey, I'm his friend!" Buffy insisted. "And so is Willow, a-and so is uh, Giles! Right Giles?"
"W-Well, yes, I rather suppose I'm fond of Angel, to a certain degree."
Buffy gave Cordelia a smug look, as if to say, "so there."
"Yeah, well anyways," Whistler interrupted. "I'm here to talk to Angel."
"So talk," Angel said coolly, glaring at the short demon.
"We need your help."
"We?"
"The good guys. The Powers-That-Be."
"You can talk while we move," Xander said. "We don't have time to waste."
"Trust me," Whistler said. "You're gonna want to hear this. What I'm talkin' about is big, much bigger than even the Judge."
Angel frowned slightly, trying to reconcile two different ideas in his head.
The first was that Whistler really was the reason he was in Sunnydale. He was the catalyst for Angel's evolution from a starving bum to someone who actually made a difference. Without Whistler, he'd have never met Buffy.
And the second was that Lyle Gorch claimed Whistler had hired him to kill Kendra. Of course, Lyle Gorch was Lyle Gorch, and not exactly meant to be trusted, but Angel was pretty sure he was too scared of Angelus to lie to him. Angel wished he'd had a chance to talk to Xander about Whistler and this "Skip" person. Maybe the time travelling smith knew something about them that he didn't.
Angel glanced at Xander, trying to determine if his expression said he knew anything about Whistler. There was a mild look of recognition, but for the most part, Xander seemed focused on getting prepared for the Judge's immiment arrival. Xander looked back at him, and sighed slightly, nodding.
"Talk fast," Angel told Whistler.
Whistler cocked his head to once side, a popping sound issuing from his neck. "All right, here's the deal. The Powers, they're kind of in charge of making sure things stay balanced, you know? Keeping the dark side from getting too strong a grip and overrunning the world, that kind of thing."
It wasn't technically a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth.
"Been like that forever, as far as anyone knows, without much trouble. Yeah things kinda sway back and forth some times, but for the most part, there's a plan and a destiny for stuff. Things gotta be what they gotta be. Choice factors into it, but usually they can figure out contingency plans for that kind of thing."
"So?"
"So about four months ago, everything went kablooey."
Angel glanced at Xander. "You don't say."
"Yeah," Whistler continued. "For the first time ever, everything went completely schizoid. We're workin' without a net now. People's dying that ain't supposed to be dying, and living when they ain't supposed to be living. Balance is completely screwed, and all we got left is Chaos."
"Who?" Xander asked.
"What, kid?"
"Who's dying that's not supposed to be dying?"
Whistler swallowed slightly. "Uh, you know. Important people. People that was gonna make a difference."
Xander glanced at Cordelia, and she nodded almost imperceptibly at him. He frowned, but remained silent.
"So what do you want from us?" Angel asked. "From me?"
"Your help. This change affected almost everyone, but if affected you a whole lot. You and the blonde linebacker here," he gestured to Buffy. "You're destined to be together. Or you were. Somethin' changed that, so I'm here to get you two lovebirds back together."
Buffy tightened her grip on Companion, her eyes flicking to Faith as they shared a mental conversation that moved with the speed of thought. Neither was unaware of the consequences of Angel and Buffy being together.
"You love her, don't ya?" Whistler asked when he noticed Angel's seeming reluctance.
The souled vampire looked down, and spoke in a low voice. "I do."
"And you love him, don't you, Slayer?"
Buffy's eyes went wide. "I-I..." She looked from Angel, to Faith, to Xander. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment.
"I don't know. I mean, I love him, but...I don't know."
Angel closed his eyes slowly. It wasn't entirely unexpected, but it hurt all the same. When he opened them, he half-glared at Xander. Their roles were reversed, or close to it. She loved Angel, but she was not necessarily in love with him. Yes, the pain was undeniable.
But it didn't change the fact that he would be who he was for her. It didn't reverse the fact that he in fact had already changed for her. Maybe she would never love him again like she had only a few short months ago. Could he live with that?
"Well what I'm sayin' is you two should give it another shot," Whistler said, not really noticing the pained looks being exchanged. "You was meant to be."
Buffy suddenly jerked, spinning around.
"Whoa," Faith cried out, clutching at her head. "What the fuck is that?"
"What's what?" Xander asked, concern in his voice. Faith was shaking her head from side to side, as if to clear cobwebs from it.
"I don't know, B!" she yelled, as if over a loud noise. "I don't see shit!"
Buffy was whirling around in every direction, eyes scanning left and right.
"See what?" Willow asked, a tiny waver of fear in her voice.
"Quiet," Faith hissed. "Buffy feels somethin'."
Buffy wore a look of intense concentration on her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was attempting to focus her senses through Companion. There was a force in the room, a powerful force that had caused her Companion-enhanced Slayer senses to go into overdrive. Faith's own reaction had been a reflection of that powerful feeling.
Kendra drew Honor's Grace in one smooth motion, and the world froze around her. Silence reigned for several seconds as she darted around the library, quickly searching to see if there was anything hidden in the shadows. A moment later the world jerked back to life around her.
"Holy cow!" Doyle exclaimed. He'd been too wrapped up in trying to remember any detail of his vision to notice Jenny earlier.
"Whoa," Whistler gasped, then he jumped almost a foot into the air when Kendra stepped out from behind the stacks. "How did you-?"
"Nothing there," Kendra reported. Her eyes darted around the room nonetheless, her katana held at the ready, just in case. Buffy was still slowly moving through the room, eyes closed.
"Really now," Ethan Rayne said as he simply appeared in the middle of the room. "You've gone and ruined the surprise of my arrival."
"Ethan," Giles sneered, although a part of him was wondering how Ethan had managed to apparently teleport into the middle of the room. "What are you doing here, you ponce?"
Ethan put a hand to his chest. "Really, Rupert. Is that any way to greet an old friend? Particularly one who has come to enlighten you?"
Whistler frowned at the newcomer. Power radiated off of him in waves. Power that the Balance Demon could recognize without question.
It was the Power of Chaos.
"You," Whistler gasped. "You're the one that caused all of this."
Ethan grinned. "You're smarter than you look, though I suppose you would have to be, wouldn't you? Although truthfully, I am more the indirect cause of your current troubles than the actual originator." He pointed across the room to Xander. "There is your true culprit, Balance Demon. There is the man who destroyed destiny."
"What the hell are you talking about, Ethan?" Giles demanded. "Why have you returned?" He hadn't realized he'd drawn Wisdom, but the blade pulsed slightly in his hand as he stalked towards Ethan.
"Oh please, Rupert. Put your little toy away," he waved his hand, and Giles was buffeted backwards by a blast of air. He stumbled backwards, barely able to keep his balance.
"Wrong move, asshole," Faith spat, pulling Tommy and Tammy free as a flash of light announced Subtlety's arrival in Cordelia's hands. Faith cocked her hand back, prepared to let Tammy fly. It was only Buffy's mental warning to assess the situation further that held her back.
"Why do I bother?" Ethan sighed, before grinning slightly to himself. "Oh yes, the rewards, that's why. Now do put your bits of metal away, as I've some rather important business to attend to."
"H-How?" Giles gasped, having felt some of Ethan's power in the simple wind spell that had deflected him.
"That?" Ethan smiled. "That was child's play. Understand Rupert, that if I wanted you and your little charges dead, you would never have even felt me coming." Then he paused, and held a finger to his lips as he considered Buffy. "Except perhaps the Slayer here. I must admit, I'm rather impressed that you were able to feel my arrival."
"I'm impressive," Buffy snarled. "Get on with it."
"Very well," Ethan sighed. "Although it's all your faults that I've been forced to come here in the first place. If you weren't all so thick-headed, I'd have never been forced to reveal myself."
"Can we cut the cryptic bullshit?" Xander interrupted. "Say what you want to say or get out. We don't have time for any of this."
"No," Ethan said. "You really don't. The Judge will be here in," he pulled a pocketwatch out of his vest pocket. "Oh I should think about fifteen minutes"
"What?"
"Well you might have had enough time to get your rocket launcher and return, if you'd really hurried, but instead you let yourselves be distracted by this little puppet. Very disappointing, particularly with all the help I've been giving you."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Whistler tried to slink into the shadows, utilizing his unique ability to move unnoticed when he so wished.
"Oh don't go," Ethan said in a voice of mock-sadness. He snapped his fingers and Whistler was yanked off of the ground. He zoomed across the floor and hovered several feet off the ground. "We've so much to talk about, and so little time to do it in.
"You see," Ethan continued, "Our friend Whistler here is an agent of Balance. I say agent, but really, puppet is a much better term, isn't it my demonic friend?"
Whistler glared at him, and said nothing.
"Whereas I," Ethan said. "Am an agent of Chaos. And again, I say agent, but really, Commander is a much better term. Perhaps General. You see, I've gained a bit of stature as a worshipper of Chaos since the last time we met." He turned and smiled at Xander. "I have you to thank for that, of course. The Chaos you have created in the natural order of destiny since Halloween has been far beyond anything that has ever before existed."
Xander frowned. "I'm not creating Chaos. I'm just doing my best to do good."
Ethan snapped his fingers. "Precisely! Haven't you yet guessed? Balance is not about good triumphing over evil. Balance is about the status quo. In your original time, good was constantly on the defensive, and thus, the Balance worked to help it. And now..."
Xander's eyes went wide. "Now evil is on the defensive?" Could that be true? Could he have had such an impact?
"Precisely!" Ethan grinned. "Our little friend here is working to bolster that which you so quaintly call 'evil.' Of course, it's not as if he has much choice, is it Whistler?"
Whistler did not respond.
"No, of course not. He's a demon after all, with the poor luck to exist as a Balance demon at that. Unlike human beings, he doesn't have a soul, and no capacity to truly make choices. He is all Balance, and no Chaos."
Ethan spun, and smiled at Whistler. "Or does he? From what I understand, Whistler has not been entirely happy with his current assignment. Is that right?"
"I do what I'm told," Whistler said, glowering.
"Yes, but with rather less enthusiasm than when you worked to help good. It has been quite some time since the Powers were forced to help that side, longer than most Balance Demons have lived."
"Get on with it, Ethan." Giles muttered. "What do you want?"
"What do I want? I should think that was obvious. I want Chaos! And I've determined that your little band of demon fighters is the perfect way to get chat Chaos." His features darkened, and his voice became colder. "Of course, I wanted this without having to reveal myself, but you idiots mucked that up, didn't you? Couldn't follow a simple clue or two, could you?" He sighed, and turned to Faith. "At least you were able to do your part, my dear. The look on Kakistos's face! It was priceless!"
Ethan's eyes showed genuine surprise when he found Xander's fingers wrapped around his throat, pressing him up against the wall.
"You!" he snarled. "You're the mage that told Kakistos about Faith!"
"O-Of course," Ethan laughed, choking slightly. "Do you realize what a blow to the demonic workings of the east coast that was?"
"She could have died," Xander growled, tightening his grip. "You would have let her."
Ethan rolled his eyes, and Xander suddenly flew back across the room. He twisted in midair, flipping to land in a three-point stance.
"Of course she wouldn't die," Ethan sighed. "Haven't you understood what I'm saying? I'm on your side."
"You've got a funny way of showing it."
Ethan gestured to Cordelia. "Ask your beautiful young student, if you don't believe me." He smiled at her. "I do believe we've met before my dear. You've a stunning right hook."
Cordelia glared at him, the greatsword Subtlety held tightly in both hands. "He's not lying," she said to Xander. "Or if he is, I can't feel it."
"There, you see?" Ethan said, spreading his arms wide. "I am a paragon of honesty. Who do you think has been sending your half-demon friend his visions?"
Doyle sputtered. "H-half-demon? Wh-who are ya talkin' about, ya daft bastard? There ain't no, uh, ain't no half-demon's around here."
"Were it not for me," Ethan continued, ignoring Doyle's protestations that he wasn't half-demon. "Your friend would have received only the false visions planted there by the powers."
"You're the reason he's had conflicting visions about me and Buffy?" Angel asked, slightly stunned.
"Of course. I couldn't have the Powers actually putting things back on track, now could I? It's ever-so-much-more interesting when you do-gooders live when you're supposed to die." He grinned at Jenny and Kendra then. "It really irks the Powers as well, which is always a plus."
"We gotta get out of here," Xander said. "We don't have time for this."
Ethan shrugged. "You may as well hear me out. The Judge will be facing you without your rocket launcher either way."
"If you're on our side," Faith said. "Why don't you help us? You keep showing off all these wizard powers and shit."
"And draw more attention?" Ethan scoffed. "I'm afraid you hardly understand the forces you're dealing with, my dear. This is but the first attempt of the Powers to force things back on track. The Judge is a convenient tool for them to use. Those of you who were to die will die, as will, most likely, those of you were are not as important. If they don't succeed here, they will try again and again, until Balance is restored."
"So then why are you here?" Xander spat. "You say you're on our side, so why don't you help us?"
"There are two things I could do," Ethan said. "Both would use up quite a bit of my power, for quite some time. The first would be to help in your battle against the Judge. I would likely die in the process, so as you can imagine, this isn't my first choice.
"The second option," he continued. "Is what I've already decided on. Your friend Whistler here cannot be allowed to return to his masters. They cannot yet become fully aware of the exact circumstances of the overwhelming Chaos, or any of our parts in it. For now they must continue to believe that some of you simply need to be killed to put destiny back on track."
"H-Hey," Whistler stammered, eyes flicking to Angel. "Angel, buddy, you ain't gonna let him do nothing to me, are ya? H-He's lying!"
"No," Cordelia scowled. "You are."
"Answer me this," Angel said, stepping closer to the still-floating Balance demon. "Did you hire the Gorches to kill Kendra?"
Whistler's eyes went wide. This was definitely not how this was supposed to go. In fact, he couldn't possibly have screwed this up more. Which, oddly enough, had him pretty pleased. Despite that, he was obligated to do his best to get out of this situation, even if it could mean the deaths of these people.
"I didn't," Whistler lied through his teeth. "I swear."
"Cordelia?" Angel prompted.
"His pants are totally on fire," she said.
Angel growled, and pulled Solitude free. The sword ignited into flames. "Not yet. But they will be."
Whistler gulped as Angel stepped forward, but Ethan held up a hand that seemed to give the vampire pause.
"Please," he said, rolling his eyes. "Let's do nothing so crude. Subtlety is something which the Powers lack, but it's something I've recently begun to pride myself on."
"Huh?" Cordelia said, her brow furrowing. She glanced at Subtlety in her hands before realizing Ethan wasn't talking about her sword. "Oh. Never mind."
"I'll deal with the puppet," Ethan said. "As for you all, well if you should happen to survive the Judge, perhaps I'll come by for another visit sometime."
"Don't trouble yourself," Giles growled.
"Ah Rupert, you're so lucky that you've been causing so much Chaos lately. It's the only reason I'm not settling old scores."
"Just try it you pompous gi-!" Jenny put an arm around Giles, pulling him back a little.
"Rupert, no. Just leave him be. We have other things to worry about."
Giles glared spitefully at Ethan, who gave him a dazzling smile in return. "Listen to the little woman, Rupert. I'm afraid you'd not fare well against a power such as mine, even with your quaint little sword."
He spun on his heels and turned to Whistler. "Well, shall we be off?"
"H-Hey man, let's talk about this," Whistler said quickly. "I-I'm a good guy, really!"
"Perhaps you are," Ethan smiled. Then he leaned in close, speaking in a low and sinister voice. "How unfortunate for you that I am not."
Then he snapped his fingers, and they both vanished.