Deleted Scenes

Babblefest stumbles onto a blank page of paper.

Could it be that she's actually going to comment on the story? You didn't really think she existed, did you? But no, here she is and apparently not CCT's imaginary friend.

"Hello folks!" She says with a grin. "I'm here to do the commentary until CCT shows up. I get to go first because she's gotten to comment on the whole actual story."

Babblefest isn't bitter at all.

"So, the deal is that it did take over six years to write this story and it's not because we type really slow. It was mostly because we would write whole sections and then scrap them because they didn't fit the mood or because someone seemed a little out of character or because we scrapped a whole plotline. Usually the latter."

Babblefest holds up several tattered notebooks as evidence.

"So, the point is that we have some very nice moments laying about that we liked too much to delete forever. We've compiled the ones that we thought anyone who liked the story enough to read the 'Deleted Scenes' chapter would enjoy, and because we're enjoying this special features vibe just a little too much we're going to tell you a bit about why they were pulled and all that. So, without further ado:"

CCT walks in and announces her plans to comment on the first two scenes.

"What? It's totally not that I type/write faster than you, Babblefest."

Babblefest admits that the writing ratio is about 4:1 in CCT's favor.

"It's just that I thought that it'd be more ironic for it to work out this way, what with you being the non-bitter quiet one and all that. Oh, and I like hearing myself write. (By the way, Joss actually said that once in an interview or a commentary or something; how he likes to hear himself write. I'm not intending to steal the phrase, it's just that I know what he's talking about so well that it fell out onto the keyboard before I realized its Joss-ness.)"

Babblefest sighs and shuffles aside. CCT did write most of the first one, anyway.

[Oh, the scenes are ordered chronologically. Most of them are from the oh-so-troublesome climax (the last two years of this project were literally spent entirely writing and rewriting and rewriting the last few chapters—I think I have three cut versions of it on my computer), but some are from before that. All occur after Angel confesses that he is seeing things, however.]

Ah! Lovely!

CCT: This one is probably much funnier and more dear to us than it will ever be to any of you, but it caused a large part of our laughter during writing sessions, so we thought it deserved to be in here. It all started when Babblefest (I think) remembered the flashback where Angelus and Darla are trying to entice Holtz's daughter to invite them into the house and she thought we could use it for one of the memories. Rewatching it, we realized how amusing it was for Angelus to use the word "lovely," (for the irony and old-timey feel of it, I guess), and thought it would be a nice embarrassing moment for Angel to play out. This scene was replaced by the infinitely better hair scene with Fred, but we were still sad to see this moment go, and the inside joke that "Ah! Lovely!" became with it.

Babblefest interrupts: No, no, no, it's really funny because of the tone of voice. It's the same voice that he spoke in through most of Sense and Sensitivity. Just picture Angelus saying "Pain-bow" and you'll get the general idea.

[There is a brief silence.]

CCT: Oooohhhhhh…Um. That was a little bit revelatory. How many of our jokes are actually about the same thing? We should check. But not now, because this introduction is decidedly too long. Later. Skype tomorrow?

Noticing Cordelia, Gunn, and Fred all in the office with Wesley, Angel hesitated, wondering if he was about to be goaded by something one of them found lying around, like a corset or something. He wasn't sure he could appropriately handle the immaturity of it all right then, but he went up to the open door anyway.

"Wesley?" He asked. Wesley looked up.

"Yes?" Wesley looked up just in time to see Angel's eyes come out of a glaze. When Angel spoke next, it was with an accent.

"Is that a yes, then?"

"Yes…"

"Ah! Lovely." And he entered as if something had been holding him back. The snorts and suppressed giggles were enough to wake Angel out of the memory. He seemed slightly disoriented for a minute, then his face hardened in annoyance as he tossed the book on Wesley's desk and retreated once more into solitude, thinking that they should realize he could hear their laughter from up there. Soon, however, another memory presented itself and the Hyperion was temporarily lost to Angel.

Fear

Babblefest is pouting now. This is another CCT one. Will she ever get to comment first?

CCT: Next time, dear. This scene was never actually going to be in the story. As I said, I like to hear myself write, and this is a product of my ego. As I was writing one of the middle chapters (a beginning of a chapter I think, with much exposition that has likewise been trimmed down), this rambled out onto the page. It's out of character for most of them and plot-wise quite unnecessary, but the idea itself was interesting enough that I kept it in the Cutting Room Floor. I'm glad it has a chance of being read now, but do forgive the characterization, please.

…the entire gang was in the office leafing through books when an overpowering odor suddenly filled the room. Cordelia wrinkled her nose, Gunn breathed deeply in a curious manner, Fred cautiously sniffed the air, Wesley leaned back, breathing normally and trying to work out in his head what it was, while Angel watched each of them and let the scent just float around him.

"Angel, what is that?" Cordelia brought her hand to her nose and held it shut. Angel let the scent sink in a moment before he spoke.

"It's fear."

Wesley's reaction was predictable. "Really? This is fear?" A boyish excitement overcame him. He made an indistinguishable noise of thrill, "Oh, you always hear about- Well, I never- It really smells like this?"

"It changes somewhat depending on intensity and cause. But yeah. Essentially."

"I didn't expect it to be so….complicated." Fred said musingly. "I mean, I always thought fear was pretty basic, a primal instinct."

"It is basic. That bitter, sort of tangy part? That's the essence of fear. Everything around it is based on how the person who's feeling it or smelling it views fear. A thrill-seeker will view fear as something to be embraced and overcome. It will add sweetness and power to the smell. Someone who views fear as a weakness shoves it deep inside them where it festers and molds and grows. It will reek like nothing you've ever smelled when you finally coax it out. And those who can't control their fear….they're the best. They let it run wild through them and it boils their blood. When you finally taste them, it feels like champagne."

"Ew, enough with the happy stroll down memory lane."

Angel turned to Cordelia. "What do you smell?" He asked.

"What do I smell? This is your memory, I smell what you smell."

Angel shook his head. "Fear predates the laws of magic by almost an eternity. It can't be conformed by mere memory of what it once smelled like based on some random, insignificant person's interpretation of it. This fear was at the core of somebody who once crossed my path—I can't even tell if I killed them or saved them. But their understanding of fear is gone, so it's up to us to add new layers to it. How do you smell it?"

Cordelia looked somewhat uncomfortable with the whole situation, but decided to indulge Angel. She closed her eyes. "I smell…..Something icky. Like mud or slime or….." She gestured with her hands, trying to get the word to come. She found it. "The sewers. That sort of damp, dark, slightly rotten smell. Also, and don't ask me to describe this any other way because I can't, but there's a distinct lack of power, if power can be a smell."

"It can."

Cordelia breathed deeply. "It also smells like…..India."

"You've been to India?"

"No, but it's what I imagine India would smell like. Like that one spice at the Indian place we went to last week. It was weird and I didn't really like it, but it fit with the rest of the dish." She opened her eyes and sighed. "Is this making any sense?" Angel nodded.

"Enough sense." He looked pensive. Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"Are you going to read my answer and tell me all about my subconscious?"

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

"Oh, I do!" Fred's hand shot up in the air. A smile played on Angel's lips.

"I'm not a shrink." He said. "Or anything else other than experienced in figuring out how to get at people to bring the very best kind of fear out."

"Charming." Cordelia said. Fred's face fell and she clasped her hands in front of her with a small, "Oh." Angel sighed.

"What do you smell, Fred?"

"Really?" He nodded and Fred brightened up a bit. "Well it's not very strong, so- I mean, it's not weak or anything, it's more….far away. But it's big, too. Big, far away, and also kinda familiar, like grass."

"Grass?" Cordy asked. Angel held up his hand.

"And it also has that sort of icky rotten sewer smell Cordy was talking about, but it's not particularly overpowering. So?" She leaned forward and rested her head on her erect, clasped hands. "What does that tell you about me?"

"Eh, may I?" Wesley started before Angel could speak. Angel nodded for him to continue.

"What it tells me, Fred, is that you view fear as a background constant, thus the familiar grass. You spent five years in fear, it's only natural that you would see it as something that is always there, even to the point where you don't notice it anymore, again, like grass. It became a given. And yet it's still undesirable, thus the sewer smell. As for the far away description…" Wesley thought a moment. "Well, I suppose I rather hope that since coming here you would feel safe, and the fear is leaving you. It's retreated and though it is ready to come back, it no longer has an immediate presence." He paused. "How was that?"

"Well, yeah, I- yeah, I guess that's true. I never really thought about it, though, you know?"

"When you smell a lot of it, you start to think about it." Angel said. "All I did was learn how to distinguish different scents and interpret what they might mean. It's not keen observation, it's practice."

"And again I say, Charming."

The scent slowly faded as they once again drew their attentions toward their respective books.

Extended Gunn Scene with Kathy Villain

Babblefest: Aha! This is one of mine. This is part of the original confrontation between Gunn and Angel in the hallway. (A scene that has gone through several revisions, including being cut in half.) Note, if you will, the odd focus on Kathy. The original concept for the story included a lot more of her (she was actually the villain in a not-really-her-but-something-in-her-form sort of way), but by the time the story actually started to work itself out all that was left of poor Kathy was her original appearance at the end of Angel's bed and this scene.

Also, I'm rather proud of the whole Angel-Gunn scene. I think it's rather powerful.

CCT: As you should be. That was one of the few scenes written solely by Babblefest, and it turned out much better than I think I would have been able to do.

"Why is this the first time? I mean, if you care so much why haven't we seen her before?" Gunn wanted to slap himself. Of all the things he could have said he really doubted that that was going to help. He doubted that Angel would answer and for the first time he was glad they were done hitting each other because, as their previous fight had shown, Angel was a lot stronger than he was. Not that he would admit it.

It did seem that Angel wasn't going to reply. For a while he just looked at Gunn cold and motionless. But just as Gunn was getting ready to turn and head back downstairs he spoke. "What makes you think this is the first time?"

Gunn hadn't expected Angel to answer at all, but if he had he still wouldn't expected that response. Of course she hadn't been there. "Where's she been then? Hiding under the table?"

Angel gave him a grim smile. "Fred found a needle and thread yesterday. They were hers. And the children's song that Cordy had stuck in her head for three days? Kathy used to sing it all the time." Angel continued to list and Gunn just stood and listened as Angel laid out again and again how Kathy had made a presence in almost every situation; until Angel finally concluded that the first time the scent of fresh blood had floated through the air, the scent had been hers.

Salty Goodness

CCT: Oh! Such a sad one to cut! We had this planned almost from the beginning; it was at the very top of our Fun And Embarrassing Memories To Make Them Go Through list, and it unfortunately had to go because it was part of three (think about it: three) climaxes that we cut entirely. There just wasn't room for it in the final climax because of pacing issues—it really kind of slowed the whole thing down, when by that point it needed to be speeding up, so we hope you enjoy it here.

[Babblefest would like to say that the list of Memories is a real thing. She's not joking. There's also a list of Scary Memories and a list of Memories that Make Us Go Awwwww...]

"Oh, my head," Wesley moaned.

"It stopped bleeding," Angel said as Cordy brushed Wesley's red-stained hair aside to get a better look, "you'll be fine."

"What a disgusting display." Cordy looked up and turned at the sound of her voice again and the scene changed abruptly. They were in the Bronze. Her teenage self was standing by the door while various other teens, familiar and not, milled around. Some nodded their heads in beat with the music while others stood chatting in small groups with friends in the dark atmosphere. Wesley was suddenly propped up against a pillar instead of a wall, and the carpet turned into smooth cement. "Is that really appropriate behavior in a public forum?" Cordy's memory continued, "I mean, I've never seen a girl throw herself at a guy like that…Uhhh!" Real-Cordy decided to ignore it and return to tending Wesley, who was testing for a bump on his head, but she caught Angel's grin.

"What?" She asked sharply.

"You don't remember?" Angel said. He nodded his head back toward the memory, where he had just entered the Bronze.

"Oooh!" Memory-Cordelia exclaimed as Angel passed by. Something large and heavy dropped to the pit of Cordy's stomach as the night came back to her.

"No…" She said, willing the memory not to continue. Wesley sat up farther in interest. "No…"

"Helllllo, Salty Goodness!"

Devastation crashed over Cordy.

"Pick up the phone, call 911. That boy is going to need some serious oxygen after I'm through with him."

"Oh God…" Cordy whispered. As the color rushed to her face, she wondered hopelessly how many centuries it would take for her dignity to recover.

Wesley was grinning. "I feel much better now."

"You heard that?" Cordy said incredulously, rounding on Angel.

Angel shrugged, smirking, "Vampire-hearing." There was a twinkle in his eye. "Embarrassing memories not so amusing now, are they?"

Cordy glared her most shriveling glare at him. "Bite me, Angel."

"I wouldn't say things like that around here, Love." The three of them turned. An 18th century-clad version of Angel approached them. His clothes hung loosely off his body and his long hair pulled back and tied haphazardly, so that several strands draped near his eyes. He continued, "There are some who would take advantage of that."

Not Worth Remembering

Babblefest: I have a certain fascination with Liam. We get to see very little of him in spite of the fact that his life largely defines Angel's life and existence. So I made several attempts throughout the writing process to explore his character and his relationship with Angel and Angelus (you'll notice my small victory at the end of the actual story). In the end most of these attempts were cut for very good reasons: they had nothing to do with the theme, Liam always seems out of character, and some of them were just plain bad. This is one of the better ones.

CCT: To be clear, I actually wrote this scene, but it's true that Babblefest is the one who pushed the idea of Liam and of Liam having some sort of moment in the story (a short monologue, in many of the incarnations). Oh, context: this is in one of the cut climax sections, as they're setting up for the spell. The rain is from the scene with Angel and Faith from Five By Five, which was originally a side-memory. Also, you'll notice that the nature of the memories has changed significantly, as well.

[Babblefest scoffs at CCT's need to supply context!]

"At least that's not real water," Cordy commented, watching the rain fall through the floor as though it weren't even there.

"I think we're the only part that's real," an Angel wandered over to them. "If you can even call us real." Cordelia and Wesley looked at the real Angel anxiously.

"It's ok," he assured them. "He's circa 1920."

"Where's the memory that comes with him?" Wesley wondered out loud. 1920's-Angel shrugged.

"It wasn't worth remembering."

"You can appear without a memory?" Wesley asked. 1920's-Angel didn't answer, but instead turned and wandered aimlessly away. Wesley turned back to the symbol. His part of it looked done, but should double-check, just in case. He turned to pick up the book that he had set down beside him only to find it was gone. "Angel, did you—"

"So this is what will rid you of us?" A younger version of Angel that actually looked younger stepped up beside Wesley, holding the book and reading it. Wesley guessed he was 15 or 16 years old. Liam looked up at Angel. "Apparently I'm not even good enough for myself to keep around."

Eternity Scene

CCT: This scene was almost in the final version, but was cut, again, due to pacing. Neither of us can remember the reason for needing this scene (we really did have one, as it was one of the very last scenes we ever wrote and therefore well beyond the brainstorming/playing with ideas stage), and though it has a neat moment at the end, that moment was already filled by Cordelia's final vent at Angel, and it wasn't like any of them needed any more reason to hate their situation (and to hate Angel by association).

Babblefest: This was one of the scenes that we tried really hard not to cut even though the story needed it to be cut. Eternity has always been one of our favorite episodes and I really liked seeing the events from Angel's point of view.

CCT: Yeah, and it also added a cool creepiness. An astute (or overly-obsessed?) reader might realize what's about to happen, and Angelus is just so happy and high that the contrast was really fun in an amusing-yet-ominous sort of way. Also: I just loved Cordy and Wes at the end. I loved the emotions they were going through (which I didn't exposit much, hoping they were implied) to bring them to this mutual done-ness with the whole thing. Originally when I wrote the scene Wesley didn't have any ingredients at all (I added the silver last-minute), so I loved that he was still completely willing to do the spell right then and there with every chance it might go wrong. It showed, yet again, his quiet strength and…what's the word I want, Babblefest?

Babblefest: General awesomeness?

CCT: *Shrugs* Sure. Actually not really, but hopefully the readers will get it.

Babblefest: But you were probably looking for flexibility or something...

CCT: Yeah, that's closer to what I want. I think "confidence" and "resolve" are also part of it, but those aren't quite there, either. But you'll see what we mean. Hopefully.

"So who knows where we are?" Cordy interrupted.

"You should," Angel said.

Cordelia crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh should I? Well, enlighten me, please."

"It's the side of our old office building," Wesley said. "Before it blew up, of course."

"Like I ever came out here," Cordy said. "And even if I did, it would have been in nice, safe, non-sketchy daylight hours where I could actually see my well-manicured hand in front of my face."

"Is there anything here you can use, Wesley?" Fred asked, leaning against the brick wall in exhaustion.

"The only thing left is a piece of solid silver, which I don't think we'll find here. Let's move on."

But before the troops could be mustered again, something very strange happened. Angel began to whistle.

It was only a few notes, but it held the entire group in dead silence as they stared at him, entirely unsure what to do next. Then Angel turned and made his way farther into the darkness, an unnerving spring in his step.

"Should I hit him again?" Gunn asked uncertainly, rubbing his sore knuckles in preparation.

Angel stopped at a power box at the side of the building and opened the creaking metal door. His fingers tapped the various switches impatiently as he searched for the right one. Then, with a shrug, he pulled the huge lever that cut the power to the entire building. He swung the door shut with a metallic clang.

Then Angel glanced up to the sky, as if admiring the hidden stars. His eyes followed something, and Wesley turned to look, too. A phone wire was strung across the entrance to the alley, where it ran down the side of the building into a darkness that Wesley couldn't see through. Angel could, however, and he found the line where it came out of the darkness and ran into another, smaller, metal box near the first one. He singled out one cable, grasped it, and pulled. The sparks from the cut cable lit up his satisfied grin and he dropped the line, where it sputtered on the ground.

Then he took a step forward, stopped, rocked back, and yanked out the rest of the cables for good measure. Whistling a few more notes, he made his way toward the front of the building again, everyone giving him as wide a berth as possible. The watched his silhouette against the orange lights of the street, wondering if it was best to stay put or follow him.

"You guys coming?" Angel asked. He had stopped walking.

"Oh no, we ain't doing this again. I'm hitting him," Gunn said, and pulled back his arm.

"Don't bother, Gunn, I'm fine. I have some silver inside we can use."

Angel began walking again, and, with a foreboding sense of déjà vu, the rest of them followed him around the front of the building. An eerie feeling crawled over Cordy's skin as she followed the familiar path through the front door toward their old office. Like the Ghost of Cordy's Past was trying to slide into her body, only to find out with an odd sense of grief that it wouldn't fit anymore. She shivered it away.

Angel opened the office door without making a sound. Cordy could hear her and Wesley's voices inside, though she couldn't tell what they were saying. She frowned, trying to remember what memory this was. Angel spoke, pacing slowly in the shadows of the outer office.

"Looks like somebody didn't pay the power bill…Cordelia?"

Cordy gasped. She remembered the sharp taste of panicked adrenaline as though she had been drawn into the memory, too. And she might have, for she saw every moment of it as if it were in real time, and relived the terror of what she knew he was.

"I'd lay odds that the phone's dead, too…" Angel said. "What do you all think?"

"Hit him," she said to Gunn. "Now."

Gunn caught Angel with all the strength he could muster in the back of the head just as Angel was wondering rhetorically what would happen if there were an emergency.

"Angel…I want you to listen to me…" Wesley's voice faded with the scene and Angel groaned from the floor.

"Do the spell now, Wesley," Cordy said quietly. "Ingredients be damned."

"Yes…" Wesley replied, just as quietly. "I think you're right."

Cool Fresley/Gunn Triangle Moment

Babblefest: Aren't they cute?

CCT: So cute. This was a fun little moment that's explained in the title. Again, part of one the climaxes that we cut.

"We loadin' up?" Gunn said approaching behind Wesley.

"Of course," Wesley replied. "You too, Fred."

"Ok," Fred said hesitantly as she approached them. "What should I bring?"

"Here," Wesley and Gunn said at the same time; Gunn held out a stake and Wesley, a knife.

"Um," Fred said.

"Take both," Wesley advised. "You can't be too careful."

What's Coming?

Babblefest: This is a part of one of the more recently cut climaxes. (It might have happened when CCT emailed me and said "Well then why don't YOU write a better ending?")

CCT: Yeah…Sorry 'bout that. It was a bad time…

Babblefest: I might have deserved it...Anyway, it may not have been better but it did have this scene, which I do love quite a bit. This might be because when I wasn't trying to shove more Liam into the story I was pulling for more Angel-Wesley friendship. I love their deep understanding of each other's needs (up until certain Season 3 events). Luckily, we managed to shove quite a few Wesley Is Awesome scenes in to replace this one.

The lobby was proving to be largely candle- and chalk-free, much to everyone's frustration. Their search was not aided by the appearance of several ghost people, who spoke in hushed whispers together and glanced up the stairs with frightened expressions. Wesley noticed that Angel, like the quickly solidifying ghost people, would frequently glance up toward the second floor corridor with an odd expression before turning and resuming his search with the others.

The third time that Wesley caught Angel staring at the stairs, he realized that the expression was fear. He approached Angel hesitantly, trying to form the words to ask what it was that they were dealing with. Prying was usually Cordelia's domain—it was practically in her job description—and he tried to think of what Cordelia would say to get Angel to talk. Wesley found himself standing next to Angel looking with him at the stairs and not saying anything at all.

Miraculously, Angel didn't require any prompting. "We need to leave soon," he said.

"What's coming?" Wesley asked.

Angel nodded his head toward the Hyperion doors. Wesley looked and jumped when he saw Angel, another Angel dressed in period clothing, his hair combed back and carrying a paper bag with an axe handle protruding from the top, walk across the lobby, past himself and the present-day Angel and to the elevators. "It would be better," Angel said, looking back at the others who were sifting through the main desk while the other Angel waited for the elevator, "If we got out of here before I come back down."

"How long?"

"Not long."

Wesley turned around as Angel, the other Angel, entered the elevator and announced, "Everyone! Listen, forget the chalk. I don't think we're going to find any in here anyway and I think ashes will work as a fine substitute. Focus on finding the candles."

I Told You It Changed

Babblefest: We SO wanted to throw Angel off of that balcony...

CCT: Yes, this is one of THREE attempts to work in this memory, not including that last deleted scene. (Luckily for me, I get to use the whole episode in the next installment of my Interaction series, so the loss is not quite so devastating to me, but I was still very sad.) The reason why we changed the climax so many times is because there were so many directions for the memories to take. One of them was to make the various Angels become sentient enough to break out of their memory confines, as Fred alluded might happen in the actual story, and eventually stop fading away altogether (which led to much chaos and way too many Angels, Angeluses, and Liams running about). This scene was what later became the scene in the hall after Angel and Gunn's big moment, where Angel sees Cordy for the first time after The Incident. This time, he was proactive and actually came downstairs to the office to tell them that the memories have changed again.

"Not exactly." Angel said. "It's…the memories aren't going away. I just don't play as big of a part in them."

"What do you mean?" Wesley asked.

A riotous mob in the lobby drowned out any words that Angel might have spoken. Angel turned to see several people yelling and cheering from the ground, watching the loud, violent crowd on the balcony. Wesley, Cordelia, Fred, and Gunn moved so that they could see through the doorway.

The mob was carrying a barely-conscious body. Somebody wrapped a noose around the body's neck and the crowd collectively pushed the body over the edge. Angel heard gasps and other startled noises as the rest of the group realized that it was Angel who was now hanging so grotesquely over the jeers and shouts of triumph from the people below. The mob cheered in victory at first, but as the weight of what they'd done began to sink in, murmurs of fear rippled through the crowd. As suddenly as they had come, everyone dispersed, pushing each other out of the way to not be caught at the scene of the crime. A nasal-sounding young man was the last to stumble away. Angel wondered if Cordelia and Wesley recognized him from the newspaper clippings he'd asked them to find.

Though everyone but the hanging Angel was gone and there was silence once again, the group watched transfixed, any thoughts of conversation temporarily forgotten. The Angel that was dangling at least a dozen feet above the floor opened his eyes, pulled himself up, lifted the noose off his neck, and dropped to the ground. He caught sight of his audience and walked over, pausing beside Angel. He glanced at the group, then at the present-day Angel, who looked more than at little uncomfortable to be staring at himself.

"Didn't you learn anything?" The 50's Angel asked. He pointed to the noose still swinging gently from the ceiling. "That's where you ended up last time you let yourself get involved with them." He turned and had only taken a few steps before he faded away.

Angel turned to look back at the stunned faces of his friends. "See?" He swallowed. "I told you it changed."

Angelus Thinking and Wandering and Scheming

Babblefest: And speaking of too many Angeluses, here are some of our favorite bits from the climax with way too many of them. He's just so delightfully evil.

CCT: Yup. We wanted to include them for the sheer fun of being in Angelus's POV, for the thrill of Angelus threatening Cordy, and for the amusement of Wesley's predicament. That's all.

Angelus had seen stranger things, but not many. On his way downstairs he had come across no less than 12 other versions of himself, all from different eras. He had never quite realized just how old he was before now.

His original plan had been to go straight downstairs to where the real version of himself and his sidekicks were figuring out a way to get rid of him, and he was able to ignore the few Angels, Angeluses, and Liams he passed with relative ease. But as he rounded a corner on the third floor something happened that gave him an idea. A fight had broken out between a 1990's Angel and an 1840's Angelus down the corridor—evidently Good-Boy Angel was trying to keep the other Angelus from disrupting the spell downstairs. But that wasn't the interesting part: his 25-year-old human self was trying to break the fight. As he watched, something else interesting happened. Angel got the upper hand and managed to pull Angelus into a headlock. There was a moment where Angelus made eye contact with Liam, who was gingerly feeling his bloody nose in the brief respite.

"You're letting us go back into nothingness, then, are you?" Angelus asked. Liam narrowed his eyes questioningly. "We can be free, you know…"

Angel chose that unfortunate moment to resume the fight, but Angelus had seen enough in that brief look of realization on Liam's face. If he was going to stay corporeal, he would need help. And who better to help him than himself?

Angelus and Cordy Moment

"He's not dead," Angelus said, noticing her quick glances in Wesley's direction, "yet. But let let's not worry about him now." He stopped in front of her and she winced as he fingered her hair. "You know, we should have a chat. We never really got the chance to talk since last night," he put a hand mockingly over his heart, "and I really need to express my feelings about it." His eyes glinted and he rested his forearm against the wall near her head. Cordy unintentionally let out a whimper. "Especially about how good you tasted with all that fear in you. You were sort of…" he searched for the right word with the air of a gourmet chef deciding which spice his concoction needed. "Zingy." He only had a second to chuckle at her fury before she hit him—hard. By the time he turned back around, in full vampire form, she was already halfway down the hall. "Or," he growled, "we can just pick up where we left off." And he strode after her.

Wesley Wakes Up

Wesley groggily opened his eyes, moaning. His head pounded. He blinked several times to bring everything back into focus. He wished he hadn't.

"Well, well, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake." Angelus #1 said.

"Good, now we can kill him properly," said Angelus #8 somewhere behind him.

"Let's wait until his friends get back, though," chimed in Angelus #17, "it's more fun when they get to watch."

Wesley wearily glanced around the now Angelus-filled lobby. "Oh dear," he said weakly.

Original Lead-In To Cordy's Moment

CCT: In the original climax(es), this is what led to the Jenny Calendar memory that sent Cordy over the edge. There was supposed to be mass chaos at this point, and we wanted to include this part of the scene with the Deleted Scenes because it was fun throwing in a memory where Angel publicly and uncontrollably sobs (even if he was possessed at the time), and because it's another nice little moment where Gunn gets to shove away his resentment.

Babblefest: Also, it was another opportunity to toss Angel over that balcony.

Buffy grabbed him by the arm, ignoring completely the child Liam running happily by with a wooden hoop, and whirled him around. "You don't care anymore, is that it?" Anguished tears streamed down her face, and Angel was, unnervingly, sobbing just as hard. A hawk swooped overhead.

"It doesn't matter," Angel choked, as though he needed the breath, "it doesn't matter what I feel."

"Then tell me you don't love me! Say it!" the girl spat.

"Is that what you need to hear?" Angel asked, "Will that help? I don't. I don't! Now let me go!"

Something distracted Gunn and he looked down at the sofa—yes, sofa—below the balcony. An adolescent version of Angel was standing in 18th-century garb, looking down at a woman sitting on the couch beside him, who was holding a baby.

"Would you like to hold your new sister, Liam?" As Liam bent down to gingerly take the infant, Gunn turned away from the scene, his anger beginning to rise again. Now was not the time, he told himself.

"Stop it!" Buffy screamed from the balcony, pointing a gun wildly at Angel. "Stop it! Don't make me!"

A gunshot startled them all and Cordy and Wesley had the presence of mind to look away so they wouldn't have to see Angel's body crash-land from the balcony. This couldn't be over soon enough.

"Ouch," Fred commented after Angel's body hit the pavement with a sickening thud. Apparently, she was less sensitive to such things.

The Spell

Babblefest: CCT tells me that I wrote the words to the spell. She went as far as to say that I was "Ritual Girl."

I have no memory of writing this spell.

CCT: So I guess I'm the one commenting on this. Ahem. This is the spell that fixes everything. We actually decided not to even write the spell for the final version of the climax because we felt that it would draw the story out too much. The story's not about the memories, it's about how all of Angel's friends deal with his memories, so when Cordy finally vented her feelings, the story was emotionally and thematically over. To draw out the action with writing the spell itself seemed frankly tedious. I did try to do a version of the spell early on where Angelus tries to stop Wesley from succeeding, but it was clear right away that it wasn't going to work because a) Wesley was already resolved and we didn't want to start something new for him so near the end, and b) it was much less exciting than it should have been for a big climactic moment (again, because the emotion was done).

Wesley picked up Cordy's candle for her and relit it. The air amongst the group was still heavy with emotion, even though Wesley, Fred, and Gunn hadn't been directly involved, though it was oddly clear. "Hold the orb up high, Angel," Wesley said, returning to his spot. "Don't let the flames go out, and don't break formation. This shouldn't take long." Wesley gripped his book with one hand and held his candle aloft with the other. Angel raised the delicate glass orb above his head and held it steady.

"Let the many become few, and the few become one," Wesley read. "So the past again hides, only for one to know." A sudden mad rush came at Wesley as he began the spell. It was all the Angels could do to keep the others away. One fell into Gunn, and he only barely remained stable. Wesley eyed the room nervously, but continued. "Bring them forth that they may exist as one in their rightful place." An unkind chuckle echoed behind Wesley. An Angelus, restrained by an Angel, was watching.

"It's not going to work, Wes. You can't mix spells like this. Only experienced witches can pull that trick off. You know, people who actually have power."

"Ignore him," Fred advised, noticing Wesley's hesitation.

"You mixed these spells?" Angel asked incredulously.

"I had to, the reversal spell is only meant for one memory, and it has to be within a certain vicinity. It can't possibly work with all these memories, even if they were all here in the lobby. I had to add a component to consolidate them all."

"It'll work, Angel, we just have to trust him," Fred said. She turned back to Wesley. "Don't listen to him, Wesley. He's just trying to distract you."

"She's right," Angel said. "He is." They met eyes. "Just do it, Wesley. Anything's got to be better than this." Wesley swallowed and nodded.

"And upon their convergence, forever shall they be bound to their creator. May that which brought them forth now return them. On my command, so shall it be."

"No!" Angelus cried, struggling against his captor.

"Now!" There was a flash of blinding white light and the room seemed temporarily frozen in time. Angels from all eras froze like statues depicting a war scene. Then, all at once everything rushed inward, toward the orb. Wind lashed around them, threatening to push them over as the orb pulled every last memory fragment inward, swirling like the symbol on the floor. The orb shook violently of its own accord, so much so that Angel had to use two hands to hold it. And then, they were all in. The wind stopped, but the orb still shook, almost seeming to writhe in agony; as though doing its best to contain the struggling memories. Bright colors rolled around inside and shot outward, like a strange nightclub light. Finally, something inside imploded and the light collapsed on itself. The orb shuddered and finally lay still. Each member of the group leaned forward to get a better look as Angel brought it a bit lower to see inside. Without warning, a blast of light jetted from the orb and into Angel, forcing him to stumble backwards several steps.

Everyone stared at Angel. He seemed to be shaking off a feeling of discomfort.

"Are you alright? How do you feel?" Wesley asked.

"Yeah," Angel grimaced, "I feel…full. And…like everything's talking at once."

"So it worked?" Fred asked. Angel nodded.

"It worked." The group breathed a collective sigh of relief. Cordy hadn't even realized she was holding her breath. As they looked around at the comparatively empty hotel, the relief came in waves. Gunn let out an extra big sigh of relief and a light chuckle. He looked around the lobby, happier than he'd been in a long time. Fred looked at everyone, a huge grin on her face, and Cordy and Wesley shared some laughter of relief and liberation. Even Angel was smiling.

"So I guess all there is to do now," Fred observed, "is clean up this mess." It was a mess indeed, between the paint for the symbol and melted wax from the candles, various broken and smashed items strewn about, soil from overturned plants, and shattered glass that littered the place. And that was just the lobby. None of them had seen the rest of the hotel since the previous day, save for Angel on his one-way transit downstairs.

Cordy found that she didn't even mind the prospect of sweeping and scrubbing. Taking advantage of the fact that she could venture alone again, she volunteered to get the cleaning supplies. They had the Hyperion back—making it theirs again was a welcome opportunity.

QQQQQQQ

Babblefest: So...

CCT: Thanks guys!

Babblefest: Yes! Thanks! We hope it won't be another 6 years before we see you again.

CCT: Definitely not. It's been more fun than it probably should have been. Writing deleted scene commentary is reeeaaallllyyy fun. I get to be all literary and talk about my art.

Babblefest: ...And I, once again come off like the absent-minded one. Why is that? Maybe that's why she didn't let me do the notes for the real chapters. That's not true is it? *Sob*

CCT: You were only absent-minded for the scenes you didn't write (i.e. most of them) because you mind wasn't there! Mine was. Because I wrote it. And you were pretty deep for your scenes. Really.

Babblefest: You deleted the scenes I wrote!

CCT: Ummmmm Ohlookamonster! *Disappears*

[Babblefest would like to state that, in conclusion, this all started as HER idea. She makes a sign to that affect and hangs it at the end of the chapter.]

[CCT, who is still gone, would like to point out that at the time, Drusilla was the villain, W&H was the scapegoat, and Gavin was planning to deport Angel. Where would the story be now if allowed to continue like that?]

[She would also like to apologize, but it is 1am and we're just so happy that this is over. Kind of happy. Really, joyous; yet sad. Relieved but lost. The world is ahead and we must make new tracks. And I must stop.]