.01 (Audio -&gt;Video)

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.01 (Audio ->Video)

[At first it's just a voice, softly accented but also tripping along an edge]

This isn't...

[Only to have the video flicker to life. If you're prone to motion sickness, this is where you might want to take two steps back. But as the feed turns end over end it catches a few things. A flash of white belonging to a lab coat. Long brown hair caught up in a haphazard bun and held into place with a pen. Wide, curious eyes.

The world's stopped moving.

For now]

This better not be about those buttons I just pushed on that big hunk of metal taking up space in the back corner. I just figured now was as good a day as any to finally figure out what it actually does, considering I almost went and blew up the place last week. I've been downright neglectful, really.

[The image tilts again, but only slightly. Her gaze becomes slightly more shadowed]

...or this could just be the part where I start talking to myself. [Pause] Again.

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...you wouldn't happen to be a brain surgeon-slash-computer scientist too, would you? [Because three in one hell dimension would be excessive. But useful! He's not sure he trusts Bennett.]

...Spike? [She looks again] Spike!

[Fred's expression drifts into something distinctly more apologetic]

I didn't drag you along with me, did I?

[...not the response he was expecting, though considering how often it's happened lately, maybe he should start.]

Not unless you dragged me three months ago.

Oh...no. [Wait] More like three minutes ago.

[She fiddles with the device again]

Unless this thing has a few more settings I haven't figured out yet.

[Angel is flabbergasted when he hears a familiar voice over the forge. Another familiar voice that should belong to the dead and yet, it's being spoken by a living, breathing person.

First Doyle and Wes, then Cordy, and now Fred. Either the PTB are giving them all a break and allowing them a second chance at life or they are messing around with his head and asking for a serious ass kicking when he returns home.

Fred is different than the rest. He knows they all go to the great beyond and in the case of Cordy, ascend to something special. Fred on the other hand, well, she permanently ceases to exist. Not only does she die, but her soul is destroyed.

And yet, here she is, with her soul in tact. Which means that there's a chance it can be saved. Which means he is now a man on a serious mission.]

Fred! It's me, Angel. [Fumbles with his forge and flips it around so she can see his face.]

What room are you in? I'll come to where you are.

[Wes is curious, having only caught the transmission in passing.]

You know this Fred person?

Angel? [Once again her expression brightens noticeably, some of the color coming back to her cheeks] You're here...

But I'm not in a... [Huh. Only, expecting the part where she is. For a card-carrying scientist, and in the case of the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart the cart carrying scientist? Fred's been a bit slower on the uptake than usual. Fred's sure she'll see the humor in it.

At some point]

Ok, I'm definitely in a room. Would you look at that.

[Don't tell anybody about that part, Angel. Especially since she's giving you the number now. It's just polite]

It does. Like the mind broadcast setting. Good luck setting it off on purpose, though.

[It's okay, Wesley. He didn't need his heart to work properly, it's been breaking all week.]

We both do, she's apart of our team. [And the love of your life.]

You not knowing her is going to be a shock to her.

[Wait for it.

Wait for it....

and there's a loud bang on her door.]

It's me.

Edited 2012-10-10 21:22 (UTC)

Oh. I see. Should I not make contact, then? If it's going to be jarring for her?

Oh it does, does it?

[Something sparks in her gaze and she's playing with things again. Fred's not really used to needing the luck part, not when it comes to things like this. She barely looks at Spike as she continues on]

...what did you mean, though, about the three months ago part? I just saw you. Well, saw as much of you as anybody does these days...

[That might've been a bit of lingering guilt there]

Not yet. Give me a chance to break everything to her, then you can.

[What is micromanaging...]

Alright. Whatever you think best, Angel. You're the boss.

[Fred continues to study the small device in her hands, all the while moving closer towards the door. Still, impending knowledge of her immediate future doesn't keep her from jumping slightly at the sound of Angel's voice. She lets the communicator drop into her lab coat pocket before opening the door wide]

Angel!

[Angel. For no particular reason she plants both her feet, shoulders squaring]

I invite you in. [Or...] Is this going to be like the hotel? Did I just make an idiot out of myself?

Right, I'll be in touch soon.

Fred...

[It's really her. Not a crazy-primordial-demi-goddess running around with her face. She's all Fred and she's standing there, excited to see him with no idea of what's waiting for her.

Out of all the ghosts he has seen, seeing her is the hardest. Her death left a deep, gaping wound inside of him that he never thought would heal.

Until now.

He can do this. He can save her. He can give Wesley and her the shot at happiness they deserve so damned much.]

I need an invite in. [His arms already getting twitchy.]

[She actually laughs, mouth tilting into something downright teasing]

I just did, silly. What's Harmony been putting in your coffee lately?

Oh...right, you did.

[He grins sheepishly for a moment and his smile spreads when he hears her laugh.

Steps inside of his arms go around her instantly. Somehow he manages to hug her even more tightly than he did with Cordelia. Angel has spent so much time trying to hide and not be overwhelmed by his guilt ridden emotions, that it's disarming to try and not be overwhelmed by happiness.]

I was worried about you. We've got several other people from our dimension here, but it's not the same without you.

You're not talking to yourself. You're talking to a whole lotta people stuck in a situation a whole lotta similar to yours.

[His arms makes more on an impact than any of his words. She'll take not of them, of course, file them away to pick over later. But for right now it's just the Angel of it all. Fred only then lets herself recognize just how unsettled she's been feeling]

So...[She shifts, but only slightly. It couldn't really be called a squirm yet. And for the moment she can still breathe] Does this mean we're doing hugs again?

[It's been hard to get them in the same room lately]

[ Here's another one who won't recognize her; Giles is adjusting his glasses and looking faintly bewildered, trying to recover from the spinning of the camera. But his tone is friendly enough-- he's been through this speech before. ]

Oh, a good number of people can hear. And while the hunk of metal does sound... somewhat worrying, arrival here seems to be rather more random. It's likely no fault of yours.

Um-- welcome to Anatole.

I don't know about any hunks of metal, but you've been brought to Anatole.

And no, you're not talking to yourself. The Forges connect to a network of people whisked away from their worlds, just like you were.

Time works strangely here. See, last time you saw me might have been recently, but last time I saw you was... [A pause, like he's considering it.] Well, never. Who are you?

[Her mouth compresses slightly]

That's not especially reassuring. But I expect you know that.

[Whoever you are]

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