The Sisters didn’t follow, but leered and waved like people leaving on a cruise ship, which was unsettling enough on its own. Creepy girls.

They went into an unused lab, and as soon as the door sealed behind them, Angel asked, “What happened?”

“You first,” Logan said, stalling for time. Even though he knew it was just a ploy, Angel played along and told him what had occurred on the dimension they were packed off to. A voodoo god sounded like fun, even before the cockroaches, but he felt slapped when Angel told him Jean showed up and “took care of it”. “What did she do?”

Angel shrugged, throwing his hands up helplessly. “I’m not sure. It was like a … psionic shockwave, full of enough god energy to dissolve everything that wasn’t Human. And, well, me. By the way, thanks; Jean apparently recognized me from your mind, so I didn’t get fried.”

“She said that?” Had he ever told Jean about Logan? He didn’t think so, which bothered him a little.

Angel raised an eyebrow at him. “You never mentioned me?”

“Not really. No offense, but I still feel silly talking about vampires like they’re really. Which they are, but …”

“I understand. Even when I first got turned, it took me some time to adjust to the idea. I mean, I’m dead, but I’m not. And there’s nothing creepier than digging yourself out of your own grave. I still get claustrophobic in small, dark places that smell of dirt.”

“Dig -” But Logan stopped himself and shook his head, deciding he knew enough. “How’d the others react to her?”

“Shocked. Jean didn’t really say anything to them, and didn’t stay, lending a hit and run aspect to it all. Then, when we came back, Storm stopped Piotr from mentioning it to Scott. No one’s talked about it since. Do you know why?”

Logan scowled, not really wanting to discuss this now. Or possibly ever. “Maybe ‘cause she’s changed so much, and Scott ain’t handling this god crap too well.”

He nodded, deciding that was reasonable. “It has nothing to do with her familiarity with your mind?”

“What? She didn’t say that.”

“No, but she didn’t have to. That was the impression I got.”

He had to stop staring at Angel, because the guy just picked up on things that he shouldn‘t have, but that seemed to be a vamp thing. That gave him hope that the others were far too stunned - and normal - to have picked up on that. “Look, let’s not get into this.”

Angel sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest. He was leaning against a metal table that was almost too low to be adequately used for that purpose. He was a tall vampire, wasn’t he? “Fine. What happened to … what happened?”

Logan wasn’t sure he could say it. But Bob’s push was still in effect, and he was able to recount the story of Nebby and his glass castle, and the strangely brief battle on the bridge. He couldn’t quite look at him while telling it, so he stared at the floor and the far cabinets, and found himself replaying it in his mind - he could see what he should have done, but that couldn’t do Yasha any good now, could it?

Angel didn’t say anything until he was done, and Logan hadn’t expected him to, because unless it was a crisis he didn’t interrupt people. Maybe it was because he was two hundred or whatever. He gave him a sympathetic glance, and said, “It probably means shit now, Logan, but she died the way all vampires hope to die - fighting. That’s what makes the breed … my breed … so troublesome. We like to kill, we like to destroy, and we don’t like others trying to destroy us. Look at Yasha and her history with the Templars, or Angelus and … well, everything that crossed his path.” he grimaced self-consciously, but probably didn’t like referring to himself in the third person. “There couldn’t be a worse death for a vampire than getting staked in your sleep, or having the curtains thrown open on you on a sunny day. If we’re going, we’re taking as many people with as possible. Certainly our killer.”

“Sounds like me,” he admitted, not unaware of the irony.

Angel half shrugged. “You’re just an asshole. There’s a difference.”

He stared at him, then realized Angel was too good at the deadpan shit. He shook his and looked away, not ready to laugh just yet, but unable to suppress a smirk. “And you claim you haven’t seen Bob for ages.”

“He’s not the only smart ass around these parts. Just the best known.”

True enough. “So, as apocalypses go, how did this one rate?”

He had to think about it a moment, unfurling his arms and scratching his head. “Well, it had its moments that put it in the top ten. But I can’t remember one having so many bugs in it.”

“I thought the end of the world would always have insects.”

“Every apocalypse is different.”

Oddly enough, that wasn’t reassuring. But maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

“Umm, you know, Yasha asked me to use Wolfram and Hart’s resources to look into your past.”

It felt like someone stabbed him in the chest with an icicle. “What? Why?”

“She felt the key to taking down the Organization was in your past, that we have to figure out why they want you so badly.”

So that’s why she was in L.A. He almost didn‘t want to ask, but felt like he had to. “What did you find out?”

“Well, it’s still a process. There’s lots of files, and no specific “mutants only” section; it’s mixed in with other things. But … does the name Operation: Nightfall ring any bells?”

Logan stared at him, instantly suspicious of anything with the word “operation” in the title. “Should it?”

Angel shifted uncomfortably, and Logan braced himself for the worst. “It was a secret intelligence operation among the Allies in World War Two. It was in their files and we didn’t know why, until we studied a photograph …”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head emphatically. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Logan -”

“No. Not now. I can’t … just not now.”

World War Two? Angel was going to tell him he was in the photograph, wasn’t he? Fucking World War Two?! Wouldn’t that make him … older than Magneto? Older than Xavier too? Maybe Bob was right; maybe he was virtually immortal.

If that was true, he was better off not knowing.

“You know, I didn’t really trust her, but she honestly did care about you. I don’t know why.” Angel paused briefly, then added, “Okay, that didn’t come out right …”

“I know what you meant,” he said, just wanting to get this awkwardness over with.

How bad did things have to be if a vampire felt compelled to comfort you? Man, he needed a new life.

(And this had only occurred to him now? He was in worse shape than he thought.)

26

Apparently, the worst part of near apocalypses was the clean up afterwards. Wesley suggested they rent a forklift, but no one was sure where you did that, or where they’d park it.

So in the end it was just them cleaning up. Bob talked Amaranth into casting a spell that somehow gave them a front door again, but Bob himself got rid of the rat-sicles after healing everybody. Although Bob was in no great shape himself, Helga was up and walking around in no time, and riding herd on the Sisters, as she seemed to be the only one not completely freaked out by them. (“They have a crush on Bob, and I’m his girlfriend,” she replied. “They know they can’t fuck with me.”)

Xavier was technically healed, but Bob warned he might not be around for a while, due to “psychic shock”. Marc was healed , but would still be out until his blood volume was up to a reasonable level. Piotr’s arm was perfectly fine, although he had half convinced himself there was no fight involving giant bugs.

Bob’s relatives brought the rest of the kids back from Australia, and none of them seemed to realize it hadn’t been a field trip. Logan met only one of the relatives, a handsome Japanese man named Akira, who was one of Bob’s great grandsons, and proved it by having nuclear blue eyes, and an Australian accent so thick and rangy he was only some f sounds away from being Rags.

Once they were pretty sure their usefulness was at an end, Angel and Wesley decided to pack it in, and return with Rags, who was teleporting back to the West Coast. (He said he had a “service” to give on Friday night, whatever that meant.) No one asked the Sisters if they wanted to go, but Logan could understand both Rags and Angel (and probably Wes) wanting nothing to do with the Sisters ever again.

Scott decided to stick around, at least until Xavier was back on his feet again, but Logan knew he was lying; he was sticking around, period. He just wasn’t prepared to admit it yet. And no one had mentioned Jean’s appearance to him, or the reason for Xavier’s psychic “blowout” - maybe they were all waiting for Xavier to break it to him. What if it did come out that Jean had been in contact with him for some time? No one could have known about … well … and certainly no one would tell Scott, but he’d blow a gasket in simple jealousy over Jean talking to him first. Logan had no intention of sticking around for that little drama, but what the hell was he going to do? When it occurred to him to go to Vancouver and clean out Yasha’s apartment, he felt equally sick and angry. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe that was all he could do for her - promise that her beloved Templar weapons didn’t fall into the wrong hands.

He was back in his room, trying to decide if he wanted to make some token effort to pack or simply punch a hole in the wall, when there was a brief knock on the door, and Bob poked his head in. “Haven’t run off yet?”

Logan glared at him. “Yeah; I’m a hologram.”

“Ha. Hairy guy makes with the funny,” he replied, coming in uninvited and closing the door behind him. He had changed his slightly bloody clothes, going for jeans and a black t-shirt that said simply, in red letters, ‘Bad Example’. No one would disagree with that.

“I don’t think you wanna be here now,” he growled. He was really tempted to try and punch him.

Bob gave him an infuriatingly smart ass smile. “Now, I understand you’re angry at me, but now that I’ve gotten everything out of the way, I thought there was something you’d like to know.”

He didn’t answer, he just continued to glare bloody murder at him.

“Okay, fine, be that way. Yasha died under the aegis of Ammit.”

He’d come here to tell him shit he already knew? “So? Does that mean she’s not dead?”

“No. But it does mean she didn’t quite end up like most vampires.”

“Dusted? Yeah, she did.”

“No, I mean - oh, fuck, I’ll just show you.”

Before he could protest, Bob opened his arms abruptly, and the scene shifted with such violence Logan felt momentarily queasy. They had shifted to an odd dimension with blood red grass and a ruby red sky, with a huge, dense thicket of banyan trees behind them, and before them a huge, open courtyard of blue marble. It looked like it should have had a roof or maybe other bits of housing around it, but it didn’t - it was like a stripped down but still fancy mausoleum. With a hot tub?

“This is Ammit’s realm,” Bob said, as if that explained everything. “Now, remember when you asked if there was an afterlife, and I told you know, not for normal Humans? Do you remember what I told you about demons?”

What the fuck was this about? Why the guessing game? Couldn’t Bob just come out and tell him for once? “Fuck man, I don’t know! Something about them returning to their home dimension.”

“Right. And for vampires, that’s generally what we’d consider a hell dimension.”

He threw up his hands in disgust. “So now you’re telling me Yasha’s gone to hell?”

“Oh, the décor isn’t that bad,” Yasha said. “A little weird, but hey, gods are like that.”

Logan turned around slowly, feeling like his heart had stopped beating; if he breathed, he might shatter the illusion.

“So, like I was sayin’,” Bob continued, as Logan did indeed find himself facing Yasha. A few feet behind her and to the right was an odd looking half cat/half crocodile type humanoid with an impressive set of boobs (all three of them), but since it wasn’t attacking, he didn’t care. “It might be the usual way of things, but when you die under the protection of a god, the god overrides any instinct. You belong to them - well, in a manner of speaking.”

“And that’s only half as creepy as it sounds.” Yasha agreed.

Logan approached her warily, half expecting her to disappear. Was this a Bob trick? A push? Was he hallucinating? “You’re alive?” He asked in disbelief, taking her in his arms and hugging her tightly to him, if only to make sure she was corporeal. She was; she felt not just solid, but warm. Or at least warmer than she had ever been, except after feeding.

“No, I’m dead,” she replied, hugging him back, stroking his hair. “Again. How many times can a person die? And this time it fucking hurt.” She gave him a peck on the cheek before pulling back. “So, did I get the fucker or not?”

“You got him,” he agreed. She hadn’t asked if she had killed him, so he was technically not lying.

Bob went over to the triple breasted cat/crocodile woman, and said, “Come on, Ama, let’s go tease the sylphs and leave these two alone for a bit.”

The woman shrugged, and said, “Why not? Orgies are getting old.”

Orgies? Logan almost asked, but instead let them walk off, and looked back at Yasha. It was hard to keep the tears out of his eyes, which made him feel like a complete pussy.

Still, she smiled at him and grasped his upper arms firmly. “So, samurai, how you gonna get along without me?”

He grimaced at the samurai name, but what could he do? “You can’t come back?”

“No. Ammit’s a vengeance god - she doesn’t do resurrections. I can’t leave her realm, basically. I can actually die … er, completely disappear. She told me she could even arrange for me to go to hell if I really wanted to; she knows some people. Even though I’m sure I deserve to go, oddly enough, I’m not enthused about the prospect.”

“Completely disappear?”

“Stop - really die - but like a normal person. I’ll just be recycled energy; I won’t end up anywhere else, won’t be conscious, won’t roast or freeze or whatever in hell. I won me a “get out of jail free” card.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Maybe if she was alive somewhere (okay, technically she wasn’t - what did you call this state? Limbo caused by divine reflex?), it wouldn’t be so bad. “Is that what you want?”

That question actually seemed to puzzle her. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really expecting a third act. Of course, I wasn’t expecting the second either, so you can see how good I am at predictions.”

“Why did you have to do that? Why couldn’t you have just waited for me to get back on the bridge and -”

“And what?” She interrupted impatiently. “Let him smack you down again? I know you’re a tactician, so use your head and stop thinking with other organs. He knew you were there, and he certainly had Bob where he wanted him. He had already forgotten about me, considering me as out of the fight as you and Bob did, which meant I had the best chance to take the bastard down. Element of surprise, sen’yuu. Am I right or what? Did I get him or not?”

He scowled at her, because this was essentially dirty pool, and she knew it, especially her calling him the Japanese for “comrade in arms”. At least there was no doubt it was her. “You did. But it wasn’t worth your life.”

“My decision, my risk. I ended the fight. And those who die with the most toys win - or did those t-shirts lie to me?”

He shook his head and looked away, still not ready to laugh. He wondered how she could joke about her own death, but, as she had pointed out, this wasn’t exactly a new experience for her. He didn’t realize a tear had escaped from one of his eyes until she wiped it away with her thumb. “Hey, none of this. Didn’t I already give you the speech?”

He grimace, and still found it hard to look into her onyx eyes, no matter how clear and steady they were. “I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be. Ask Wesley to give you my Watcher file; I was one blood thirsty bitch, hon. You wouldn’t believe how many Slayers I killed. Well, until the Buddhists decided to whack me with existential despair. I don’t deserve this reprieve, not really, and I know it.”

“You saved the world. Doesn’t that clean the slate?”

She shook her head, and he knew why he could have loved her. “It shouldn’t, not for some of us.” Suddenly she grabbed his face in her hands, and said, “And I damn well don’t mean you. Don’t go on that self-pity trip. I know people, Logan; it’s my job as a vampire to pick my food well. And you’re a good man.”

He snorted derisively, and attempted to look away. “Good at killing shit.”

“You do what you have to do, but you are not the killer they want you to think you are. Training doesn’t make the man, and I’m with Bob on this one: free will is all that counts. If you didn’t do it on your own impetus, it doesn’t count. I’ve killed because I wanted to, because it kept me alive, because it gave me pleasure - I liked doing it. And even with all the ennui that got forced me, I still got a little thrill when I killed someone I felt deserved it. If I was Human, I’d be psychotic; but since I’m a vamp, it’s just what we do. I wasn’t even considered a psycho vamp; those fuckers are unbelievable. And you have never been anywhere near our league.” He started to tell her she was wrong, and he had witnesses to prove it, when she put a finger firmly over his lips, and said, “Don’t argue with the dead. It’s bad luck.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, and carefully removed her finger. “You just made that up.”

“Yes. But I’m kicking with a bored vengeance goddess who would probably fuck with you in subtle ways if I asked her to, so don’t tempt me.”

“Subtle?”

“You’ll never find your keys again.”

He was unable to suppress a smirk, even though he could still feel the tears in his eyes. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“I don’t bluff,” she replied, deadpan, and then pulled him down for a kiss.

Logan still felt like he had a clenched muscle in the center of his chest, but while Yasha was dead to him, she wasn’t technically completely dead yet. It wasn’t exactly a happy ending by any means, but it wasn’t as bad as it had felt five minutes ago, back on Earth.

It wasn’t perfect, but he knew he could learn to live with it. 

***********

The End

(Well, for now, okay…)