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Part 10 The next day, he accosted Willow in the hallway. "Can you come to the library at lunch? Please. It's frightfully important." When she walked in at noon, he practically pounced on her and dragged her to the computer. "Willow, Jenny once told me of a monk who was knowledgeable about the hellmouth, and who would send out global mailings to people -- " "Oh, you mean Brother Luka?" she asked brightly. "What about him?" "Uh, I mean, well, can you contact him?" Giles asked. "I thought he had gone into some sort of computer underground, or something. Can you talk to him?" "Sure. I can just email him. He came out from underground when the master died. What do you want the message to say?" "Well, I mean, is there any way I can type it in myself?" Giles asked uncomfortably. He was as good as telling Willow he didn't trust her. She blinked in surprise. "I guess so. I'll set it up for you, then you can just type it in and then move this pointer to here" she showed him how to move the mouse "and click this button down once. It should go right to him. Here." She set up the email, then quickly, before Giles could see what she was doing, she activated her "sent-mail" option. "All ready!" she said, a little too brightly. "Just click this button to log me out when you're finished. I have to get to class." Willow returned later in the day to check her e-mail, and to find out what Giles had sent to Brother Luka. Feeling only slightly guilty, she logged in and opened her sent-mail folder. Her eyes got bigger and bigger as she read. Finished, she went back to the mailbox to read Luka's reply. "Giles!" she squeaked, sounding strangled. He appeared, alarmed, from behind the stacks. "Giles, I'm nosy, I know I am, I'm sorry, and I hope you can forgive me," she said all in one breath. He looked perplexed, then looked at the screen and understood. "You looked at the letter I sent the monk." He said matter-of-factly She nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry. But that's not all. I also looked at what he sent back to you. It might be possible, he says. It might be possible!" Giles' shoulders, which had been creeping up toward his ears, relaxed. "It - it is?" he asked shakily. Willow nodded eagerly. "Yes, it's possible, but you need my help." she said with certainty. He started to protest, but she went on speaking. "Listen! Miss Calendar's files had some information on this! I think she had been researching the same thing, at least, before the judge came: how to give a vampire with a human soul a human body as well... only, without the part about the vampire's being in hell." She finished uncertainly. "I, well... yes, that part does seem to pose the difficulty," he admitted. "Uh, may I see the letter he sent you?" Later that night, Giles brewed himself a pot of tea and sat down with a large mug. He reached toward the telephone, then hesitated. He stared at it, took a sip of tea as if to strengthen himself, then picked up the phone and dialed the number he'd scribbled down earlier. "Uh, hello? I'd like to speak to Father Joseph, please. Oh, hello, sir. My name is Rupert Giles. I was, uh, given your name by Brother Luka; he said you might be able to help with a certain project that I've been researching. Can I come and see you at some point? Tomorrow? Yes, thank you, that will be fine. Uh, goodbye... and thank you." Part 11 The next day after school, Giles walked into St. Stephen's. The priest, an average height, somewhat stocky black man, saw him and smiled. "Mr. Giles?" he asked, approaching with his hand outstretched. Giles took it. "It's kind of you to see me, Father Joseph." "Please, it's Joe to you. Anyone that Luka sends me is a friend already. Might I call you Rupert?" Giles coughed. "Actually, my companions usually just call me Giles. You are welcome to do that as well." "Fine. So, Giles, come into the study with me - would you like a cup of tea? Milk, no sugar? Right. - and sit down. So what's this project all about?" Giles removed his glasses and began compulsively cleaning them. He cleared his throat. "Well, uh, first of all, how much do you know about vampires?" he asked bluntly. Joe's eyebrows shot up. "More than you'd think, actually," he said guardedly. "One of the boca del infierno fringe benefits, I guess. Why?" "Well, have you ever heard of a vampire called Angelus?" The priest was even more wary. "Yes," he said shortly. "Go on." Giles explained in detail what had happened to Angel regarding the gypsy curse and its loophole. He felt a little as if he were betraying Buffy's trust, but he never mentioned her name, or that she was the slayer. He explained what he thought Angel's ultimate fate had been, at Buffy's hands. At the end of the story, Joe sat still, regarding Giles with unreadable dark eyes. "So that's your project?" he finally asked. "Getting the nice vampire out of hell and making him human again?" Giles flushed to hear his goal referred to in such a cavalier manner. "In a nutshell, yes." He leaned forward. "Do you think you can help me, or not? Luka thought you might, but if not then I'll just leave now and not bother you again." Joe's sudden broad smile lit up his face. "Relax, Giles. I might be able to help. I'm sorry, but I was sort of testing you. I had to find out how much you knew, and how serious you were. I apologize." Giles leaned back in relief. "Yes, I'll try to help. I'll have to get back to you in a couple of days, though. Where can I reach you?" Giles wrote down his home phone and the number at the library and handed Joe the paper. "If there's anything I can do..." he said. Joe grinned. "Don't worry. There will be! I'll be in touch in a few days, and I'll talk to you then." Giles left the church with a feeling he thought he had lost forever: hope. After he left, Joe crossed himself and turned his attention skywards. "Dear God, You heard the whole thing." he said, "And Lord, if Angel has even a slim chance of regaining his humanity, please show us the way! You know he's like a son to me, and I'd really like to be able to invite him over for dinner. Without becoming it, that is." He shook his head with a sad smile and went back to his study. Exactly three days later, Xander and Willow were eating lunch in the library with Cordelia and Oz, when Giles' phone rang. He jumped up to answer it, and a moment later stuck his head out. "Uh, Willow? May I see you for a moment?" She bounced up and went into his office. "Willow, this is that Father Joe that Luka referred me to. Do you think you can meet with us tonight at St. Stephen's? Joe thinks there's a chance for success, but we may need your help." "Uh, sure," Willow said. Giles finished and hung up. She asked, "Giles, do you think we can tell the others yet?" He gazed at her sympathetically. "No, I think, um, best not. If it works they'll find out then. If it doesn't, why raise their hopes?" She nodded reluctantly and joined the others. Part 12 Buffy and Spike both slept all day after their escape into the library. They had sneaked into the basement, curled up behind the water heater tanks and slept the sleep of the exhausted. Buffy woke first, in the twilight dimness from the one basement window. She got out her one remaining stake and approached Spike stealthily. She got almost within striking range and then stopped. Her hand faltered and she put the stake back into her sleeve and sighed. Spike opened his eyes. "Morning, cutie," he said. "What's up? Why not slay me when you had the chance?" "How - how did you know?" she asked. "Been awake since before sunset; it just takes a while for the daytime lethargy to wear off. So what are we doing tonight?" Spike stretched and yawned. Buffy shrugged. "How about finding a better place than this?" In a separate part of the cellar was a room that didn't have a window. What it did have was two couches, a table with four chairs, a hot plate and microwave, and (a discovery that elicited a long appreciative whistle from Spike) a hidden stash of hypodermic needles. "All right! This will make things a lot easier!" he crowed. If Buffy was disturbed at the thought of some library employee having these on hand; she was horrified at what Spike's plans for them were. "Yes; for you, maybe!" "Of course. What else?" he asked, surprised at her retort. "Oh, yeah. That. Well, sorry, but I'm not the sensitive, caring, always-think-of-you-first sort of vampire; for which, by the way, you should be glad." He grinned maliciously. "I've heard that kind can turn on you." Her swift roundhouse kick to his head told him that his remarks were not fully appreciated. He laughed, and punched her in the face. She kicked him in the stomach and pushed with her foot, knocking him to the floor. "Oh, baby likes to play!" he said, rolling to his feet again. He knocked aside her next punch to his head, and tripped her so she fell backwards over the table. He jumped towards her, pinning her shoulders down on the table and leaning over her. His attention was distracted by the way her white tank top clung to her body which was sweaty from the fight, and he laughed again. "I could learn to like this, luv." "Oh, yeah? How about if you learn to like this!" and Buffy cracked his head with her own, then followed with a swift kick to the crotch, finishing with flipping him backwards over the table so he landed half on the couch, half on the floor. He groaned. "This, I'm not so fond of," he admitted, clutching himself and slouching to the floor in a fetal position. It was almost more embarrassing than painful: someone who has wreaked murder and mayhem for two centuries, struck terror into the hearts of men, destroyed and tortured whole villages, being totally debilitated by a simple kick to the nuts. Another week found them settled in to stay in the old lounge; apparently, (Buffy discovered by listening to the employees' conversation during the day sometimes) there was a new staff lounge upstairs that everyone used, which left the one in the basement almost totally forgotten about. Buffy, having written to Giles the day before - a mercurial, moody letter just to let him know she was all right, and carefully avoiding mentioning her present "arrangements," felt a load off her mind and slept a few minutes later than usual. She awoke to see Spike leaning against the wall adjacent to her couch, watching her. She felt a creepy feeling go up and down her spine. Usually she awoke before he did, and usually spent the time until he woke up watching him and asking herself why she didn't plunge a stake into his heart while he slept. It was chilling to discover he had the same sort of habit. For the umpteenth time, she wondered why she was doing this, why he was doing this. It couldn't have been any more fun for him than for her, always going around expecting to be attacked by his roommate, not going out much, having to spend all his time, like her, with a hated enemy. Why hadn't they killed each other yet? It was a constant question in her mind, so she asked it. "Why didn't you kill me?" "What, and cut off my supply?" he asked with a wounded expression. "Listen, Slayer, I would never do that to you - well, to me, actually. Hey, let's go out tonight. I'm dying for a -" "-bite?" " - change of scenery." Later that night, sitting next to Spike in the movie theatre and watching the latest James Bond flick, she reflected that, strange as her life had been before, it couldn't possibly compare with her life now. And their mid-day conversations in the lounge, when neither of them could sleep, were nothing short of bizarre. "Spike?" "Mmm?" "What's it like when you feed?" "It's the biggest power trip in the world. Better than anything else that I've tried. Positively orgasmic!" "Oh," Buffy said, blushing. Spike cocked an eye at her, grinning. "Why, you curious? I could show you, if you like!" "No...no thanks!" Buffy backpedaled. She let the silence fill the air for a moment, then asked him, "What were you like before you were a vampire?" He considered the question, briefly. "Hmm. Pretty much the action-packed, fun-loving guy I am today. Only without the killing part. (a pause) So what were you like before you were the slayer?" Buffy's reply was succinct. "Cordelia." "Oh, God!" Part 13 Giles pulled up to Willow's house where she waited for him on the porch; a shadow disentangled from the other shadows. Silently they drove to the church. Joe was waiting for them in his study. Giles performed the introductions and they sat down. Joe began the discussion. "Well. It seems we have a vampire with a soul, who's in hell. We want him out of hell, and we want him human. So... how do we do it?" "I could give you some of Miss Calendar's research," Willow offered. "Janna, the gypsy woman?" Joe asked in surprise. "You have her files?" "All of them. On the computer. Um, she and Giles were... are... sort of my mentors." She blushed. "I mean, she was. He still is. And I - we miss her." "Yes, I heard about her death. I'm sorry." Joe said. "I also knew about her 'assignment' regarding Angelus. I'm sorry it came to this." Giles was still half-wincing from the pain of Jenny's memory and half-pleased by being called Willow's mentor. He shook his head. "Do you think you might know of a way to accomplish what we seek?" Joe's answering smile was brilliant and warm. "Look who my boss is!" he joked. "I've been trained to believe anything is possible. Even miracles! Yes, I know of a way that might work." He leaned forward, the small talk obviously over. "First of all, this vampire has a soul. Second thing, he has a body. Problem: hell is eternal torment in the shape of fire, and vampires burn. Therefore, if he's in hell, it's just his soul that's in torment because his body is long gone. Hey, don't panic!" he said, looking at Willow's frightened face. "That just means he needs a new body. And that, my friends, is what I think we might need from Janna's files." "You mean how to get a vampire body?" She asked. "No, no. His vampire body is gone. Now he needs a human body, my dear, to house his human soul." Willow's lip curled a little in disgust. "This isn't going to involve any... cutting and pasting, is it? I mean, 'cause we've seen that before, and just - ew." Joe shook his head and wondered just what sort of girl this was. She seemed so innocent, and yet must have seen death - a lot of it, if she was familiar with the Angel story. He shelved that thought for a later date. "No slice and dice, I promise you." He smiled gently. "Now: Willow, I would like you to peruse Janna - uh, Jenny's files and see what you can find about providing a human body for the new soul. Giles, you work on the 'getting him out of hell' problem. Read up on hell, purgatory, that sort of thing. We have to make sure there aren't any more loopholes." "I thought the religious angle was more your territory," said Giles. "What do you plan to do?" "Fast and pray," stated the priest matter-of-factly. "More, I mean." Two days later, Willow tore into the library as if ten vampires were at her heels. "Giles! I've found it!" she cried, triumphantly waving a computer disk over her head. "It's the file on how to get a body!" Xander, who had witnessed Willow's mad dash from her classroom down to the library and been curious, entered quietly behind her just in time to hear what she said. "Ugh! Tell me you're not having a Chris flashback!" Willow whirled in shock. "Oh, um, Xander!" "Ah, I knew you'd remember. So what's with the body? Haven't we already been there?" "Oh... nothing. Right?" she looked to Giles for support. "It's just about a book I was reading for... um, for anatomy class." "Riiight," Xander said suspiciously. So let's see what's on that disk!" Giles and Willow exchanged glances, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. They knew they couldn't have kept it secret forever. Sighing, she popped in the disk and opened up that window on the computer. The file's contents scrolled up the screen, and Giles almost whistled in astonishment. Part 14 "So that's it! Of course!" he said, as if to himself. "It's so terribly simple that no one would ever think of it!" Willow was also fascinated. "Look at the chemical compounds," she murmured. "Not a single one of them is rare, or hard to find..." Xander was perplexed. "Look, could someone please explain to the layman exactly what is going on?" They ignored him. "I can get the necessary chemicals, if you can find someone to do the actual forming," Willow said to Giles. "It's mostly just earth and water mixed together with a few trace minerals." "Clay." He stated. He started to smile, and removed his glasses to clean them. "It's so amazing, yet so simple -" "Hey! Guys! What is going on?" Willow gave him her sweetest smile. He was a dear friend and she hated keeping him in the dark, but she didn't want to take the time to explain it to him and listen to his protests when the end of their goal was finally in sight - as soon as she got to the science lab. "We're playing God," she said. "Nothing to worry about." She exited the library, paying no attention to Xander's incoherent sputters of protest. "Fine, go! I guess I didn't want to know anyway!" he said loudly. "I'll just go off by myself (with Cordelia, he added silently) and have fun because your little secret means nothing to me!" "Excellent idea, Mr. Harris," said Giles absently, nose buried in a book. Xander snorted and stalked out. Part 15 Willow, failing to find what she was looking for in the science lab, went to the art room. It was empty, and the afternoon sunlight streamed through the window illuminating a classical-style bust that was sitting on one of the work tables. Willow, curious, approached, then stopped dead. It was of Xander! Beautifully done, every feature lifelike, it looked as if it were about to crack a bad joke. Who on earth - or in Sunnydale - had this kind of skill? Cautiously, she circled around to the back and beheld the initials scratched into it: "CC." Cordelia Chase. Willow whirled around and left the room. Her feet made their unerring way towards the supply closet. Without thinking of manners or proprieties, she wrenched the door open. "Hi, guys!" she said brightly, in accompaniment to Cordelia's yell of outrage. "Willow, what are you doing?" Xander demanded. "Oh, sorry to interrupt. Cordelia, I need to talk to you." She said. "And what could be more important than -" Cordelia saw the surprised pleasure on Xander's face and realized what she'd been about to say. Mentally chiding herself, she gave Willow a condescending smile. "Sure, I'd be glad to talk to you, Willow. Anytime!" she added for Xander's benefit. "Good. Then let's go to the art room and talk." Willow said steadily. "The art room? What --? Oh, no, I left my statue out!" she wailed. "What statue?" Xander asked. "Statue?" Cordelia said brightly. "What statue? There's no statue! Come on, Willow, let's go talk. Girl talk," she said pointedly. They left Xander standing alone in the hallway. "Why do I feel like no one tells me anything anymore?" he complained to the air. In the art room, Cordelia busied herself wrapping her unfinished bust of Xander in wet cloths and putting it away. Finished, she sat down heavily on a stool. "Boy, that was a close call." "Cordelia, can you sculpt someone for me?" Willow asked abruptly. "Excuse me? Can I do what?" "Listen, I'm serious. Cordelia. This is important! It's for - well, for something Giles and I are working on. Please, will you do it?" "Well... is it someone I know?" Cordelia wondered. "Absolutely. And you never know; you might like it!" Briefly, sounding as matter of fact as possible, Willow outlined what she wanted done and why, and then left before Cordelia could recover her razor tongue. "She's crazy," Cordelia announced to the empty air. "She's nuts." She pondered another moment, then got a glint in her eye. "On the other hand, to make a man from scratch..." She went and got some clay. Part 16 Willow reported back to Giles at the end of the day. "It's all set; I found our sculptor," she informed him. "What? Oh, uh, good. I've acquainted Father Joe with our information, so we'll be ready to perform the ceremony as soon as the body is finished. Which reminds me - how soon will the body be finished?" "All right!" Xander came out abruptly from behind a bookcase. "Listen, you two, I've had it! What is going on that no one is telling me about? What is this with a body, and Cordelia's statue which doesn't exist, and just everything?" Giles looked at Willow. "Cordelia is the sculptor?" "Um, yeah, she's all I could find, and -" "HELLO!" Xander shouted. "I'm having a need-to-know tantrum here! What is going on?" "Giles, I think we have to tell him now." "Very well. I guess you're right." At the end of the briefing, Xander sat back in his chair. "Wow," was all he managed to say for a while. Then, "Are you both crazy?" "No, Mr. Harris, we are not crazy. It may be a possibility to rescue Angel from hell and give him a human body." "And we've got a priest to help us and everything!" Willow chirped. Xander smiled for the first time all day. "What'll your parents say to that?" he teased. "Ira Rosenberg's only daughter consorting with Catholics?" "But you're okay with... the rest of it?" Willow wanted to clear that up. "It's not really up to me, is it? And anyway, if what we think happened really happened, the guy's in hell. He will have definitely paid his debt to society, even if you guys really do succeed." He swiped Willow's apple and bit into it with a grin. "Not that I think you'll succeed, or anything." Part 17 Cordelia had been spending much more time in the art room than was her wont. She had cut a deal with her teacher to allow her to work on the full-length supine male in exchange for entering the finished project in the upcoming art contest which, if she won, would bring her teacher great renown and also get Principal Snyder off his back. That was the official deal, but she suspected he just liked her airheaded flirting. Well, he ought to. She'd been honing that skill for years! After several days of intense work on the head and torso, she hit a snag. Willow, getting ready for bed that night, got a panicked phone call from the budding artist. "Will, I need to know how to do his, um, lower half." She said. "?" said Willow. "I mean, with or without clothes on! How am I supposed to sculpt him below the waist? Can I sort of give him pants? Or maybe a fig leaf?? Willow considered the question seriously. Honestly, she hadn't thought of it before. "Well," she began. "I think the man is going to end up looking like however you sculpt him. If that's the case, then he should probably have all of his... all his, um, man parts, don't you think?" "That's what I was afraid of," moaned Cordelia. "I don't know how to." "Well, don't you do it the same as you do all the rest of his parts?" "That's just it!" Cordelia exclaimed. "How can I sculpt things that I don't know what they look like?" Willow stifled a quick giggle. "You mean, you don't know? You don't mean to say that you're a -" "Don't even let the word cross your lips, Will! Fine. You're one, I'm one, but do we have to let the whole school know? I didn't think so. So can we move on?" "You might want to try looking at some famous sculptures by Michaelangelo or someone. Or try Gray's Anatomy?" She offered, feeling suddenly magnanimous... or was that mischievous? "Also, Giles might be able to help." "EEEWW!" was Cordelia's heartfelt response to that suggestion. "Thanks for the disgusting mental picture right before I go to bed!" Willow blushed furiously as the picture popped into her own mind. "That wasn't what I meant! "Yes, well, I think I'll 'consult the books' before I bother Giles with something like this!" Cordelia decided. Part 18 The finished sculpture, entered in the art contest at the last minute, won second prize. First was an oil painting of a bowl of petunias. "Oh, no, not again!" wailed Cordelia looking at the red ribbon stretegically decorating her creation. "I always win second and never first!" Giles raised his eyebrows when he saw the ribbon, suddenly reminded of a bawdy ditty he and his pals had sung in college. "Ach, lad," he murmured, smiling at the memory, then coughed. "Well done, Cordelia. It certainly looks like Angel; that is, what I've seen of Angel." Willow's comment was ably expressed by her completely round eyes and whispered "I'll never be able to look him in the eye again!" Early the next morning before dawn, hours after Mrs. Summers had closed up the art gallery where the show had been, Cordelia woke up and yawned. It was just in time; shortly after came a light rap on the door. She got to her feet and stretched, then opened the door. "Come on, it's all set!" she said. The zebra-striped van that had been waiting across the street backed up to the door, and Oz got out and opened the cargo doors. "So, I'm part of the gang enough for you guys to borrow my van when you need to, but not enough for you to tell me what's going into it?" he asked. "Not that I'm nosy-I just like to know my place in the world." Xander got out and patted him on the back. "Don't feel bad. You're in good company; I only found out last week." He shook his head. "Believe me, I'd rather be in ignorance right now! And also asleep." "Oh, good," Oz commented. "Then I'm the only lucky one here, huh?" Oz, Xander, and Giles went quietly into the building and gazed at the full-length sculpture swathed in cloth. Giles lifted one corner of the fabric and shined his flashlight onto the face. "Yes, this is it." He said. "That looks like Angel," said Oz. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" Xander responded with a grin. "Yes, uh, gentlemen, let's move along, shall we? Time is of the essence." Giles said. "That's something that's always puzzled me," Oz responded as the three of them heaved the heavy clay onto their shoulders. " 'Time is of the essence.' The essence of what?" "You've been around Willow too long," Xander groaned. Part 19 Father Joe was waiting for them in the church beside a table he had set up in front of the altar. "Hey! Come on in!" he greeted cheerfully. He helped them bring in the clay body and lay it gently on the table. He uncovered the face and appraised it. "Wow. I'll have to congratulate the sculptor. It sure looks like him." Cordelia, following with Willow on the heels of the men, beamed. "Thanks!" "Now let's get to business. I'll have to ask everyone not involved in the ceremony to wait in my study until it's over, just to avoid distractions." He waited, while no one left. He sighed. "All right. Mr. Giles and Miss Rosenberg may stay." "What about me?" demanded Cordelia. "I'm involved! I made the body; doesn't that make me totally involved?" "Self- involved, maybe," muttered Xander. Joe sighed. "All right, Miss Chase, but not a word." Cordelia donned her best put-upon expression and flounced over to the front row. Xander and Oz went off together in the direction Joe indicated. Xander paused in the doorway. "How long will this take?" he asked. "Not long," Joe said. "It'll either work or it won't. Either way it won't be much time." Xander nodded and exited with Oz. Joe turned to the other two and rubbed his hands. "All right, now let's get to business. Giles, Willow, are you two ready? Good." He lit some candles and brought out some holy water, then carefully placed Giles' orb of Thessula on the chest of the sculpture. He opened his Bible and began to read various passages aloud, while Willow began to translate them simultaneously into Hebrew. "I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell cried I, and He heardest my voice. With authority commandeth He even the evil spirits and they do obey Him. Their sorrows shall be multiplied that hasten after other gods: their drink offerings of blood will I not offer...for thou wilt not leave my soul in hell!" Joe carefully inscribed the sign of the cross on the statue's forehead and its heart, then stood back and raised his face toward heaven. His stance was formal, hands clasped behind his back, and his expression was serious; his prayer, however, was as usual startlingly informal. "God, we have a problem here. You're all-knowing, so you know what it is, but for the sake of our own sense of ritual, let me recap." Part 20 In Joe's study Xander and Oz sat quietly. Xander glanced around whistling under his breath. Their situation, had they only known, was quite similar to Mrs. Summers and Spike, only a few weeks before. Xander opened his mouth to say something, but -- "I heard it, you know," Oz said. "You heard what? The ceremony?" Xander asked. "No. What you said to Willow." "What? Who? Me? I've said a lot of things to Willow." Xander grinned nervously, a grin he had perfected at the end of his act in the talent show the previous fall. "You know what I mean." Oz said evenly. "I just wanted you to know that I heard you. And sometime later, we're all going to have to deal with it." "Yeah, deal with it. Right." Xander said. "Oh, goody." Meanwhile, Joe was going on with his prayer. "You see, Father, we're asking you to deliver Angelus' human soul from hell and breathe life into this body for him to inhabit. It was one girl's love for mankind and for this world that you created that sent him to hell in the first place. We would like you to please get him out. And Lord, please give us a sign; preferably one with thunder. Thanks. Amen." He glanced at Giles, who looked puzzled and asked, "Wh-why thunder?" Joe shrugged. "I like thunder. And it's traditional." He grinned. "Your turn." Giles read aloud, "And the Lord God formed man out of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul." Just as he finished reading, Joe blew out the candles. They all staggered back as a clap of thunder made their ears ring and lightning arced through the church, striking the orb. It gave out a sudden, blinding light, echoed by the light glowing in the eyes of the statue as its features shifted and changed, slowly becoming alive. The light faded and the orb went dark.
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