Angel here
*spoilers*
I realized this story was bigger than just
Xander, and expanded it. This takes place
in a Buffy timeline in which Mr. Trick did not get staked
and the Sorcerer was not in league with Giles.
In other words: Angel has no soul, no conscience
and a cruel sense of whimsy.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Warning: this is not a pleasant fic. It is very rough
and was hard to write.
Archive permission granted, just mail me!
********
Aftermath
Angelia Sparrow
c 1999
**********
Pain flooded him as he stood up.
Dropping back to his knees, Xander dry-heaved again.
He had already gutted out the remains of his
last three meals along with the blood-tainted semen he'd
been forced to swallow.
His clothes lay in a heap behind the bathroom door,
the shirt torn, the buttons of the jeans ripped from
their moorings, the shorts bloodstained from..no,
he wouldn't go there. He couldn't go there.
Satisfied that he was finished praying to the porcelain,
he stood and ran the shower as hot as he could stand it,
Standing under the scalding water, he thought of nothing.
The burn of the water distracted him from the other pains.
He listened only to the water beating on his skin, washing away
the dead man's possessive touch. The sound of the water
drowned out the vampire's voice still echoing in his head.
The hot water began to fail, so he grabbed the nylon scrubbie and
lathered himself vigorously, wishing the soft mesh was something
more substantial, like a wire-bristled scrub-brush. Something
that could remove the defilement and shame he had suffered.
He toweled off, and nestled into his big velour robe. The soft warmth
of the robe soothed his tortured nerves. Until he bent over
to pick up the towel. Then pain shot through him again from where
Angelus...No, he wouldn't go there. He couldn't go there.
He wondered what the first trip to the bathroom for a sitting session
would be like. He'd heard his father talk about hemorrhoids, but this...
He returned his attention to his toothbrush.
Brushing his teeth and combing
out his wet hair helped restore a sense of normalcy
Then he met his eyes in the mirror.
And all normalcy crumbled.
Who could he tell?
Not the police. Not his clueless parents.
Not Buffy and Willow, never them. Cordy?
There was a thought. But no, she'd invariably
let this get around school, and if he'd thought the
gay jokes were rough now, just wait until they
found out Angel had raped him.
God, no! He'd gone exactly where he didn't want
to go. He sank to the floor, enveloped by the robe,
and sobbed into his hands for what seemed an eternity.
There were no tears left when he stood, only steel in
his eyes and voice.
Once again meeting the eyes of his reflection,
he said in a stern, quiet voice. "No vampire
will hurt me again. Not ever."
He gathered his clothing, and went to call Giles.
"If-uh- if what you say is true, it seems we have a great
deal of trouble on our hands. We need to alert the
others that we are once again facing A-angelus."
Giles was worried, Xander could tell by the stammering.
Xander sipped the hot tea, welcoming the scalding of his tongue, the pain
taking his mind from other pains, the scorching of his tastebuds searing
off the taste of the dead man.
"On a more personal note, have you-er- con-contacted the police?"
"And said what?" Xander couldn't bring lightness to his mocking tone,
only bitterness. "Hi, I was just raped by a guy whose been dead for
over 200 years? No, I have no proof, I burned my clothing.
Of course I showered." He sighed and hung up the imaginary phone.
The Watcher did not like the flatness he saw in the boy's eyes when
Xander looked at him. "Giles, no one would believe me if I told them.
I've been called queer all my life. If this gets out, everyone will say
I was asking for it." His laugh was more bitter still. "If there's anything I'm
sure of now, it's that I'm not gay. I wondered what the others
were seeing that I didn't. I wondered if I might be. But this
has thoroughly convinced me I want nothing to do with men
in any sort of sexual way."
Giles, remembering some very perverse Tantric magic
rituals from his youth, had some inkling of what Xander
was going through. Those assaults had been a means to an
end and the whole group had become more powerful as a result.
But that didn't alleviate the guilt or the purely physical pain involved.
Or the memory of both enduring and having committed them.
He didn't not say any of this, but rather, "If it is any
comfort, Xander, this is not the first time Angelus has
done such a thing. His trademark is taking one's
deepest fear and bringing it to violent, cruel life.
I think we need to bring the others in on this."
"Do we have to tell them?" the voice was that of a small boy
with his hand in the cookie jar.
"It would be best, but not if you are not ready." Giles picked up the phone.
Buffy yawned, "Make it good, it's 3 AM!"
Her Watcher's voice brought the Slayer instantly awake.
"Buffy, I -um- need you to come to my apartment at once.
There has been a rather distressing development that
directly affects you. Bring Faith as well."
Buffy dressed quickly, growing colder as she pondered
her Watcher's words. She wondered if Angel, but that was ridiculous.
Nothing had happened to make him lose his soul.
They had been frustratingly scrupulous.
She left a note in place of the car keys and made sure her license
was in her purse. Swinging by Faith's motel, she discovered the
other Slayer was out. The graveyards yielded nothing: no vamps,
no Faith. Knowing Faith had been spending a lot of time
with Angel, working out the problems after staking the deputy mayor,
Buffy drove by the mansion.
Angel was gone, but she found Faith.
Regaining her composure, and vowing to return for
the body, Buffy burned rubber to Giles' apartment.
Giles brewed another pot of tea, and as an afterthought
filled the kettle again. It would be that kind of night.
Wesley sat blearily on the sofa, not yet awake. Xander
dialed Willow's number yet again, absently adjusting the pillow
he sat on. Buffy clutched her teacup with both hands,
paler than the pastel pink top she wore.
She'd bolted the first cup, dashed to the bathroom to vomit
and then sipped at the second and third. She was twitchy and
scared, having said nothing since the first horrible words at the door.
"Faith's dead and Angel killed her."
The failure to reach Willow and Cordelia bothered him more than
he liked to admit. If Buffy was the target, then
they were all the obstacles in the path of a very
cruel hunter. Memories of the last time threatened
to overwhelm his control.
"All I get is the stupid machines!" Xander slammed the receiver
into its cradle. "I even called Oz. But he's locked in the basement
for the next couple nights."
"Very well, we'll contact them in the morning," said Wesley.
"Now, Mr. Giles, if you'll be so good as to tell me why we've been
summoned at this ghastly hour?"
"If Angelus is back, the two girls will be his most likely targets."
countered Giles.
"He's back." Buffy's voice was flat, dead. "No one, not even
Spike, would do what he did to Faith."
Wesley flipped open his notebook and uncapped the fountain pen.
"And what, exactly, did he do?" He knew Faith and Buffy were not on the
best of terms, but was curious to see what could have so affected his
Slayer.
"She was suspended. Not hanging by the neck, but in chains
and a body harness. Like that scene in _Barbarella_?"
Giles nodded, remembering the background women in
the movie the gang had subjected him to. And remembering
having to rewind it twice before Xander could move
on to the next scene.
"There were cuts all over her. Cuts, but no blood." Buffy gulped more
tea, and held out her cup for a refill. Wesley obliged.
"No blood anywhere. Some bruises on her face from before she died.
And she was raped." Wesley's pen stopped scratching and Xander
flinched. Buffy's eyes were fixed on the dregs of her tea, and didn't
see. "Or maybe they had rough sex that went too far. But it was...messy."
She wouldn't talk about the jelling pink-white puddle beneath Faith
or the condition of the other Slayer's body. They would
see it all, except for the missing parts, when they went back in the daylight.
Giles had seen Buffy like this only...no, he had never
seen her this low, not even after the Acathla incident.
It was as if part of her had died with Faith.
"I was so good. I wanted him and never did anything.
But somehow he still lost his soul, and it's my fault.
My love brought him back from Hell." Teardrops began to fall
into her cup.
"Faith and Xander attacked in one night," commented Wesley.
He had been told only a little of Xander's encounter. "It is now imperative
we find Willow and Cordelia. If he behaves in classical Angelus patterns,
one of them is the next target."
Giles stifled an "I told you so" with difficulty.
"Xander," asked Wesley, "do you know why he didn't kill you?"
"I'm not important enough?" The quip was too harsh and fell flat.
"No, seriously, he gave me a message for Buffy. And I think
it's going to make her as sick as Faith did."
"Tell me," Buffy ordered.
"Buffy, please. It's only going to hurt us both more. It's from Angelus and that
can only mean painful."
"Tell me!" She stood and advanced on her friend. Pinning his
arms to the arms of the overstuffed wing-back chair, she glared into his face.
"Angelus said and I quote," he took a breath and looked deeply unhappy,
'tell the little blonde bitch that you're better than she ever was.' End quote."
"What does that mean? Better how?"
He couldn't look at any of them, especially not the Slayer who held her
face inches from his own. The arm of the chair was much safer. "Let's
just say Faith wasn't the only one raped tonight."
Buffy lifted his chin to meet her eyes. The pain she saw overwhelmed her.
She had to ask, disbelieving her own ears, her voice even and cold,
"Is this true?"
"No, dammit! I made it up to shock you and stole a maxi-pad
from my mother because I'm a pervert!" Buffy recoiled from his shouting.
"I'm still bleeding," he added miserably. "My jaw's damn near dislocated,
my throat aches. I can hardly sit and if I talk any more
you may have to fight me for worship space at the porcelain altar."
He turned his head so she could see the bruises on his jaw
where Angelus had wrenched his mouth open. "I'll
spare you dropping my pants so you can see the others."
"Oh Xander!" She threw her arms around him, and felt tears
on his cheek as she added her own to them. Regaining her composure
she kissed his cheek. "You and Faith both. I'm so scared for Willow and Cordy."
She buried her head in shoulder, taking comfort from his warm
body, and from the strength in his arms. Wesley made uncomfortable
notes and Giles absented himself to refill the empty teapot.
"Perhaps you should go home and get some sleep. Buffy, could you
drive Xander home?"
"If you really don't mind Giles, we'd rather stay here. Safer. No
entry permission."
"Good thinking, Buffy. Please avail yourself of my bed.
Xander, Wesley and I will make do."
"Actually, I'll be going home. I have some research to do and
calls to make."
"I thought you might help me return Mrs. Summers' car. It's almost
6. She may be up. Wait please." He dialed the Summers' number,
"Joyce, this is Rupert Giles. Sorry to wake you. Buffy had a rather rugged night
and is asleep over here. I'm on my way to return your car. Well if you'd
prefer to catch the bus. Certainly. I'll expect you shortly."
He motioned Wesley out the door before sitting in the wingback.
Xander had taken the couch, and was asleep before he was off the phone.
Buffy was in his bed when he went to check.
"The room is so you, Giles, right down to the hospital corners," she
yawned.
"Do you need a blanket? I'm getting one for Xander."
"No, I'm fine. Fi...." trailed into a snore.
He spread the blanket on the sleeping boy and
paced until the doorbell rang. He let Joyce in
and handed her the keys.
"Xander too?"
"Xander had a very bad encounter with Angel tonight,"
Giles said.
"Why does that not surprise me? Can I assume he's
become a stalker again? And Buffy's his target?"
Giles poured her tea. "That would be a logic-" he yawned
"logical assumption. My apologies. Xander woke me at 2 and
I have been up since then."
"Buffy invited Angel in, not too long ago, rescuing me from
Spike," Joyce commented. "That means he can come in any time, right?"
"You'll need to rescind his permission to enter. A cross nailed at each window
and door and this recited will do it." He handed her the small parchment.
"Could you -er- check up on Cordelia and Willow? We were unable to locate
them last night."
"Giles, you gotta help me!" Cordelia burst through the door, startling Xander awake.
He sat up with a yell. "Oh, how very. The shrieking alarm clock boy. What is this,
slumber party central?"
"That only leaves Willow unaccounted for. I'll stop on the way home. Thank you for
watching out for them." Joyce left.
Cordelia sat, shaking on the stool at the bar. It seemed to be the night for it.
"Was it Angelus?" Giles asked handing her tea.
"What? No. It was that horrid Mr Trick. Mister Slayerfest 98. He saved me
from a bunch of vamps tonight. Staked all of them. Well, I got one. Then he
demanded payment. I asked what he wanted and he leered and vanished.
Then he was behind me, groping me." She crossed her arms
protectively over her breasts. "Right in my ear, he explained. That's one
sick demon. He wants me, my body, all three ways, and then I'm dinner.
Talk about your morning-after no-calls."
Giles stammered, at a loss for words. Cordelia, angry now, launched into a tirade,
forgetting who she was talking to.
"I'm no fussy virgin like Willow, but I do have standards. And Vampires
don't meet them. And I won't say I've never done one and two, but
three? ick! That's positively disgusting. And he was so blunt about it! He
actually used the f-word. Then he licked my neck and ran the edge of his fangs along it.
By the way, did you say Angelus and not Angel?"
Giles rather speechless, nodded.
"Oh God, not again! Did Buffy--?"
"Faith actually."
"That stupid bitch. I hope he includes her on his little
'let's get Buffy' scene this time."
"He has. She's dead. We'll retrieve the body later today.
And we still can't locate Willow."
"Probably wolf-sitting Oz. Speaking of, he's probably human
again, so give him a call."
Later that day, Oz and Xander returned with Giles from their
Faith-burying excursion. Both boys looked ill,
and Giles was pale and his hands were cold.
"You didn't say he'd gone Whitechapel on us, Buff,"
accused Xander.
"Whitechapel. The area frequented by Jack the Ripper.
Xander is referring to the missing parts of the -erm-corpse."
"He's really gone this time. 'Oh, he's better. he's
got a soul again.' Buffy, that was the all-time worst
judgement you ever made," Cordelia snapped.
"Shut up, Cordy," said Xander, a little sharper than was necessary.
"We still can't find Willow. I'm really worried. You don't think Angel
got her?"
"I do hope not, Buffy. Now, everyone rest. We've had a long night,
and a longer day. Tonight may very well end it all."
The girls went to the bedroom as the phone rang.
"Hello?" Oz said.
"Oz? I couldn't find you. I tried your place
and mine and Buffy's. Can you meet me at my place,
say 15 minutes?"
"Anything for you, Willow."
"The door will be open. I have a surprise for you.
In the basement."
"I'll be there." He hung up.
"Will. She's at home. I'm going over."
"Be careful Oz. Sundown is at 6 tonight."
"Always am. Besides, Willow's basement? Spare chains."
That provoked a raised eyebrow, but no comment.
Manacles were a monthly necessity for the werewolf.
Oz left quietly.
"Giles," whispered Xander. "I have to use the bathroom."
"You know where it is."
"No, it's going to hurt. How can I help it not hurt as much?"
"Lean forward. It puts the pressure on your abdomen instead.
Don't force it."
"Damn Angelus. Damn him to four or five different Hells.
I can't even have a basic bodily function
without a reminder. And why do you sound like you
have experience?"
"Certain ritual magics call for such activity,
and you will pry no more, but rather return to sleeping on the
couch."
Night fell, and from across town came the howl of the Ozwolf.
Buffy woke, and began sharpening stakes. Cordy
threw a shoe at her and went back to sleep.
More tea and take-out Chinese comprised dinner. Only Cordelia
had much appetite.
Buffy hoisted her slaying bag. "I'm going to Willow's,
and then I'm going to Angel's. He is dust."
"I wouldn't recommend going alone. Cordelia,
you stay here. And do not, repeat do not, invite anyone in."
"Oh right. I'm not mental yet, Giles."
"Xander, go with Buffy. You won't be a liability."
"Right." He kissed Cordelia. "Be safe, please?"
Xander and Buffy paced the dark streets.
"Do you want to talk about it yet?" Buffy asked.
"No. And I may not ever. You can't understand, Buffy.
Bad as rape is for a woman, it's far worse for a man.
You know that your chances are 1 in four. Us,
we never think about it happening. And he was so cold."
"I know, Xander. I know."
Willow's house was dark, and no growls came
from the basement. But curiously so was Oz's place.
"Let's get Angel. I'll bet he knows where they are."
At the mansion, Buffy dropped the slaying bag at the sight that greeted
her eyes. The stake fell from her nerveless fingers, but the clatter went unnoticed.
On a fresh wolf-skin rug, Angelus lay on his back in front of the fireplace.
Atop him, naked save for a hunter green merry widow corset, sat Willow.
Her red hair shone in the firelight and she moved like a wildcat.
"No!" screamed Xander dashing forward with stake upraised.
The game-face that had been so startling on the leather-clad
Mirror Willow was even more appalling on this one. And Angelus
was wearing one too, as he raised his head from her
bloodied breasts.
"Aww, Xander. You got blood on my new clothes. I think I'll have to punish you..."
She rose, leaving her vampire lover, and stalked the mortal.
"Hey, Slayer, come on in, make it a foursome," Angelus leered.
"Maybe you'll be better in bed after a few decades' practice.
But I don't know. Faith was pretty hot. At the end she begged me for death.
I'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. And Willow! Well, it's
always the quiet ones, isn't it? Will, don't play with your food!"
Willow had Xander pinned against the wall, his stake and cross
lost long ago. "Just one kiss. We kissed so sweetly at the factory.
Do you remember? And Cordy got impaled wasting all the delicious blood..."
She licked his neck suggestively. The game face was gone,
and the pale redheaded who had haunted his fantasies
for several years was now wanting him, very badly it seemed.
Her brown eyes caught his and he was gone.
He didn't care that she was a vampire. He didn't care
that his rival Oz was now a rug. he just wanted to lose
himself in the midnight eyes before him.
"Xander!" Buffy yelled as Willow sunk her fangs into him.
"Oh he'll be fine. Menage a trois can work well, as long as
there is no doubt about the dominant alpha male."
Angelus had moved fast during her distraction, and now he pinned her arms,
and sank his fangs into her. Buffy felt her life slipping
from her. Weak, dizzy, with everything going
dark, she heard Angelus say, "As Ricean as it sounds, I'm going
to give you a choice. You may either die, and have another Slayer
activated in your place or you may come with me, into darkness.
I always wondered what would happen if there was a vampire Slayer."
Willow giggled at his pun as Xander thrashed the end of his mortality away at her
feet, and lay still.
"Well, Slayer, your time is about up. Is it death or unlife? I think
you have about five more heartbeats left."
"Angel," she managed. "I love you."
Damn, that was no answer. Or maybe it was. She wanted death.
And that was exactly what he wouldn't give her.
He slit his wrist and dribbled it into her mouth, before guiding
her to suckle there. He removed her,
and watched her die. The next night was going
to be a great deal of fun.
*spoilers*
I realized this story was bigger than just
Xander, and expanded it. This takes place
in a Buffy timeline in which Mr. Trick did not get staked
and the Sorcerer was not in league with Giles.
In other words: Angel has no soul, no conscience
and a cruel sense of whimsy.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Warning: this is not a pleasant fic. It is very rough
and was hard to write.
Archive permission granted, just mail me!
********
Aftermath
Angelia Sparrow
c 1999
**********
Pain flooded him as he stood up.
Dropping back to his knees, Xander dry-heaved again.
He had already gutted out the remains of his
last three meals along with the blood-tainted semen he'd
been forced to swallow.
His clothes lay in a heap behind the bathroom door,
the shirt torn, the buttons of the jeans ripped from
their moorings, the shorts bloodstained from..no,
he wouldn't go there. He couldn't go there.
Satisfied that he was finished praying to the porcelain,
he stood and ran the shower as hot as he could stand it,
Standing under the scalding water, he thought of nothing.
The burn of the water distracted him from the other pains.
He listened only to the water beating on his skin, washing away
the dead man's possessive touch. The sound of the water
drowned out the vampire's voice still echoing in his head.
The hot water began to fail, so he grabbed the nylon scrubbie and
lathered himself vigorously, wishing the soft mesh was something
more substantial, like a wire-bristled scrub-brush. Something
that could remove the defilement and shame he had suffered.
He toweled off, and nestled into his big velour robe. The soft warmth
of the robe soothed his tortured nerves. Until he bent over
to pick up the towel. Then pain shot through him again from where
Angelus...No, he wouldn't go there. He couldn't go there.
He wondered what the first trip to the bathroom for a sitting session
would be like. He'd heard his father talk about hemorrhoids, but this...
He returned his attention to his toothbrush.
Brushing his teeth and combing
out his wet hair helped restore a sense of normalcy
Then he met his eyes in the mirror.
And all normalcy crumbled.
Who could he tell?
Not the police. Not his clueless parents.
Not Buffy and Willow, never them. Cordy?
There was a thought. But no, she'd invariably
let this get around school, and if he'd thought the
gay jokes were rough now, just wait until they
found out Angel had raped him.
God, no! He'd gone exactly where he didn't want
to go. He sank to the floor, enveloped by the robe,
and sobbed into his hands for what seemed an eternity.
There were no tears left when he stood, only steel in
his eyes and voice.
Once again meeting the eyes of his reflection,
he said in a stern, quiet voice. "No vampire
will hurt me again. Not ever."
He gathered his clothing, and went to call Giles.
"If-uh- if what you say is true, it seems we have a great
deal of trouble on our hands. We need to alert the
others that we are once again facing A-angelus."
Giles was worried, Xander could tell by the stammering.
Xander sipped the hot tea, welcoming the scalding of his tongue, the pain
taking his mind from other pains, the scorching of his tastebuds searing
off the taste of the dead man.
"On a more personal note, have you-er- con-contacted the police?"
"And said what?" Xander couldn't bring lightness to his mocking tone,
only bitterness. "Hi, I was just raped by a guy whose been dead for
over 200 years? No, I have no proof, I burned my clothing.
Of course I showered." He sighed and hung up the imaginary phone.
The Watcher did not like the flatness he saw in the boy's eyes when
Xander looked at him. "Giles, no one would believe me if I told them.
I've been called queer all my life. If this gets out, everyone will say
I was asking for it." His laugh was more bitter still. "If there's anything I'm
sure of now, it's that I'm not gay. I wondered what the others
were seeing that I didn't. I wondered if I might be. But this
has thoroughly convinced me I want nothing to do with men
in any sort of sexual way."
Giles, remembering some very perverse Tantric magic
rituals from his youth, had some inkling of what Xander
was going through. Those assaults had been a means to an
end and the whole group had become more powerful as a result.
But that didn't alleviate the guilt or the purely physical pain involved.
Or the memory of both enduring and having committed them.
He didn't not say any of this, but rather, "If it is any
comfort, Xander, this is not the first time Angelus has
done such a thing. His trademark is taking one's
deepest fear and bringing it to violent, cruel life.
I think we need to bring the others in on this."
"Do we have to tell them?" the voice was that of a small boy
with his hand in the cookie jar.
"It would be best, but not if you are not ready." Giles picked up the phone.
Buffy yawned, "Make it good, it's 3 AM!"
Her Watcher's voice brought the Slayer instantly awake.
"Buffy, I -um- need you to come to my apartment at once.
There has been a rather distressing development that
directly affects you. Bring Faith as well."
Buffy dressed quickly, growing colder as she pondered
her Watcher's words. She wondered if Angel, but that was ridiculous.
Nothing had happened to make him lose his soul.
They had been frustratingly scrupulous.
She left a note in place of the car keys and made sure her license
was in her purse. Swinging by Faith's motel, she discovered the
other Slayer was out. The graveyards yielded nothing: no vamps,
no Faith. Knowing Faith had been spending a lot of time
with Angel, working out the problems after staking the deputy mayor,
Buffy drove by the mansion.
Angel was gone, but she found Faith.
Regaining her composure, and vowing to return for
the body, Buffy burned rubber to Giles' apartment.
Giles brewed another pot of tea, and as an afterthought
filled the kettle again. It would be that kind of night.
Wesley sat blearily on the sofa, not yet awake. Xander
dialed Willow's number yet again, absently adjusting the pillow
he sat on. Buffy clutched her teacup with both hands,
paler than the pastel pink top she wore.
She'd bolted the first cup, dashed to the bathroom to vomit
and then sipped at the second and third. She was twitchy and
scared, having said nothing since the first horrible words at the door.
"Faith's dead and Angel killed her."
The failure to reach Willow and Cordelia bothered him more than
he liked to admit. If Buffy was the target, then
they were all the obstacles in the path of a very
cruel hunter. Memories of the last time threatened
to overwhelm his control.
"All I get is the stupid machines!" Xander slammed the receiver
into its cradle. "I even called Oz. But he's locked in the basement
for the next couple nights."
"Very well, we'll contact them in the morning," said Wesley.
"Now, Mr. Giles, if you'll be so good as to tell me why we've been
summoned at this ghastly hour?"
"If Angelus is back, the two girls will be his most likely targets."
countered Giles.
"He's back." Buffy's voice was flat, dead. "No one, not even
Spike, would do what he did to Faith."
Wesley flipped open his notebook and uncapped the fountain pen.
"And what, exactly, did he do?" He knew Faith and Buffy were not on the
best of terms, but was curious to see what could have so affected his
Slayer.
"She was suspended. Not hanging by the neck, but in chains
and a body harness. Like that scene in _Barbarella_?"
Giles nodded, remembering the background women in
the movie the gang had subjected him to. And remembering
having to rewind it twice before Xander could move
on to the next scene.
"There were cuts all over her. Cuts, but no blood." Buffy gulped more
tea, and held out her cup for a refill. Wesley obliged.
"No blood anywhere. Some bruises on her face from before she died.
And she was raped." Wesley's pen stopped scratching and Xander
flinched. Buffy's eyes were fixed on the dregs of her tea, and didn't
see. "Or maybe they had rough sex that went too far. But it was...messy."
She wouldn't talk about the jelling pink-white puddle beneath Faith
or the condition of the other Slayer's body. They would
see it all, except for the missing parts, when they went back in the daylight.
Giles had seen Buffy like this only...no, he had never
seen her this low, not even after the Acathla incident.
It was as if part of her had died with Faith.
"I was so good. I wanted him and never did anything.
But somehow he still lost his soul, and it's my fault.
My love brought him back from Hell." Teardrops began to fall
into her cup.
"Faith and Xander attacked in one night," commented Wesley.
He had been told only a little of Xander's encounter. "It is now imperative
we find Willow and Cordelia. If he behaves in classical Angelus patterns,
one of them is the next target."
Giles stifled an "I told you so" with difficulty.
"Xander," asked Wesley, "do you know why he didn't kill you?"
"I'm not important enough?" The quip was too harsh and fell flat.
"No, seriously, he gave me a message for Buffy. And I think
it's going to make her as sick as Faith did."
"Tell me," Buffy ordered.
"Buffy, please. It's only going to hurt us both more. It's from Angelus and that
can only mean painful."
"Tell me!" She stood and advanced on her friend. Pinning his
arms to the arms of the overstuffed wing-back chair, she glared into his face.
"Angelus said and I quote," he took a breath and looked deeply unhappy,
'tell the little blonde bitch that you're better than she ever was.' End quote."
"What does that mean? Better how?"
He couldn't look at any of them, especially not the Slayer who held her
face inches from his own. The arm of the chair was much safer. "Let's
just say Faith wasn't the only one raped tonight."
Buffy lifted his chin to meet her eyes. The pain she saw overwhelmed her.
She had to ask, disbelieving her own ears, her voice even and cold,
"Is this true?"
"No, dammit! I made it up to shock you and stole a maxi-pad
from my mother because I'm a pervert!" Buffy recoiled from his shouting.
"I'm still bleeding," he added miserably. "My jaw's damn near dislocated,
my throat aches. I can hardly sit and if I talk any more
you may have to fight me for worship space at the porcelain altar."
He turned his head so she could see the bruises on his jaw
where Angelus had wrenched his mouth open. "I'll
spare you dropping my pants so you can see the others."
"Oh Xander!" She threw her arms around him, and felt tears
on his cheek as she added her own to them. Regaining her composure
she kissed his cheek. "You and Faith both. I'm so scared for Willow and Cordy."
She buried her head in shoulder, taking comfort from his warm
body, and from the strength in his arms. Wesley made uncomfortable
notes and Giles absented himself to refill the empty teapot.
"Perhaps you should go home and get some sleep. Buffy, could you
drive Xander home?"
"If you really don't mind Giles, we'd rather stay here. Safer. No
entry permission."
"Good thinking, Buffy. Please avail yourself of my bed.
Xander, Wesley and I will make do."
"Actually, I'll be going home. I have some research to do and
calls to make."
"I thought you might help me return Mrs. Summers' car. It's almost
6. She may be up. Wait please." He dialed the Summers' number,
"Joyce, this is Rupert Giles. Sorry to wake you. Buffy had a rather rugged night
and is asleep over here. I'm on my way to return your car. Well if you'd
prefer to catch the bus. Certainly. I'll expect you shortly."
He motioned Wesley out the door before sitting in the wingback.
Xander had taken the couch, and was asleep before he was off the phone.
Buffy was in his bed when he went to check.
"The room is so you, Giles, right down to the hospital corners," she
yawned.
"Do you need a blanket? I'm getting one for Xander."
"No, I'm fine. Fi...." trailed into a snore.
He spread the blanket on the sleeping boy and
paced until the doorbell rang. He let Joyce in
and handed her the keys.
"Xander too?"
"Xander had a very bad encounter with Angel tonight,"
Giles said.
"Why does that not surprise me? Can I assume he's
become a stalker again? And Buffy's his target?"
Giles poured her tea. "That would be a logic-" he yawned
"logical assumption. My apologies. Xander woke me at 2 and
I have been up since then."
"Buffy invited Angel in, not too long ago, rescuing me from
Spike," Joyce commented. "That means he can come in any time, right?"
"You'll need to rescind his permission to enter. A cross nailed at each window
and door and this recited will do it." He handed her the small parchment.
"Could you -er- check up on Cordelia and Willow? We were unable to locate
them last night."
"Giles, you gotta help me!" Cordelia burst through the door, startling Xander awake.
He sat up with a yell. "Oh, how very. The shrieking alarm clock boy. What is this,
slumber party central?"
"That only leaves Willow unaccounted for. I'll stop on the way home. Thank you for
watching out for them." Joyce left.
Cordelia sat, shaking on the stool at the bar. It seemed to be the night for it.
"Was it Angelus?" Giles asked handing her tea.
"What? No. It was that horrid Mr Trick. Mister Slayerfest 98. He saved me
from a bunch of vamps tonight. Staked all of them. Well, I got one. Then he
demanded payment. I asked what he wanted and he leered and vanished.
Then he was behind me, groping me." She crossed her arms
protectively over her breasts. "Right in my ear, he explained. That's one
sick demon. He wants me, my body, all three ways, and then I'm dinner.
Talk about your morning-after no-calls."
Giles stammered, at a loss for words. Cordelia, angry now, launched into a tirade,
forgetting who she was talking to.
"I'm no fussy virgin like Willow, but I do have standards. And Vampires
don't meet them. And I won't say I've never done one and two, but
three? ick! That's positively disgusting. And he was so blunt about it! He
actually used the f-word. Then he licked my neck and ran the edge of his fangs along it.
By the way, did you say Angelus and not Angel?"
Giles rather speechless, nodded.
"Oh God, not again! Did Buffy--?"
"Faith actually."
"That stupid bitch. I hope he includes her on his little
'let's get Buffy' scene this time."
"He has. She's dead. We'll retrieve the body later today.
And we still can't locate Willow."
"Probably wolf-sitting Oz. Speaking of, he's probably human
again, so give him a call."
Later that day, Oz and Xander returned with Giles from their
Faith-burying excursion. Both boys looked ill,
and Giles was pale and his hands were cold.
"You didn't say he'd gone Whitechapel on us, Buff,"
accused Xander.
"Whitechapel. The area frequented by Jack the Ripper.
Xander is referring to the missing parts of the -erm-corpse."
"He's really gone this time. 'Oh, he's better. he's
got a soul again.' Buffy, that was the all-time worst
judgement you ever made," Cordelia snapped.
"Shut up, Cordy," said Xander, a little sharper than was necessary.
"We still can't find Willow. I'm really worried. You don't think Angel
got her?"
"I do hope not, Buffy. Now, everyone rest. We've had a long night,
and a longer day. Tonight may very well end it all."
The girls went to the bedroom as the phone rang.
"Hello?" Oz said.
"Oz? I couldn't find you. I tried your place
and mine and Buffy's. Can you meet me at my place,
say 15 minutes?"
"Anything for you, Willow."
"The door will be open. I have a surprise for you.
In the basement."
"I'll be there." He hung up.
"Will. She's at home. I'm going over."
"Be careful Oz. Sundown is at 6 tonight."
"Always am. Besides, Willow's basement? Spare chains."
That provoked a raised eyebrow, but no comment.
Manacles were a monthly necessity for the werewolf.
Oz left quietly.
"Giles," whispered Xander. "I have to use the bathroom."
"You know where it is."
"No, it's going to hurt. How can I help it not hurt as much?"
"Lean forward. It puts the pressure on your abdomen instead.
Don't force it."
"Damn Angelus. Damn him to four or five different Hells.
I can't even have a basic bodily function
without a reminder. And why do you sound like you
have experience?"
"Certain ritual magics call for such activity,
and you will pry no more, but rather return to sleeping on the
couch."
Night fell, and from across town came the howl of the Ozwolf.
Buffy woke, and began sharpening stakes. Cordy
threw a shoe at her and went back to sleep.
More tea and take-out Chinese comprised dinner. Only Cordelia
had much appetite.
Buffy hoisted her slaying bag. "I'm going to Willow's,
and then I'm going to Angel's. He is dust."
"I wouldn't recommend going alone. Cordelia,
you stay here. And do not, repeat do not, invite anyone in."
"Oh right. I'm not mental yet, Giles."
"Xander, go with Buffy. You won't be a liability."
"Right." He kissed Cordelia. "Be safe, please?"
Xander and Buffy paced the dark streets.
"Do you want to talk about it yet?" Buffy asked.
"No. And I may not ever. You can't understand, Buffy.
Bad as rape is for a woman, it's far worse for a man.
You know that your chances are 1 in four. Us,
we never think about it happening. And he was so cold."
"I know, Xander. I know."
Willow's house was dark, and no growls came
from the basement. But curiously so was Oz's place.
"Let's get Angel. I'll bet he knows where they are."
At the mansion, Buffy dropped the slaying bag at the sight that greeted
her eyes. The stake fell from her nerveless fingers, but the clatter went unnoticed.
On a fresh wolf-skin rug, Angelus lay on his back in front of the fireplace.
Atop him, naked save for a hunter green merry widow corset, sat Willow.
Her red hair shone in the firelight and she moved like a wildcat.
"No!" screamed Xander dashing forward with stake upraised.
The game-face that had been so startling on the leather-clad
Mirror Willow was even more appalling on this one. And Angelus
was wearing one too, as he raised his head from her
bloodied breasts.
"Aww, Xander. You got blood on my new clothes. I think I'll have to punish you..."
She rose, leaving her vampire lover, and stalked the mortal.
"Hey, Slayer, come on in, make it a foursome," Angelus leered.
"Maybe you'll be better in bed after a few decades' practice.
But I don't know. Faith was pretty hot. At the end she begged me for death.
I'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. And Willow! Well, it's
always the quiet ones, isn't it? Will, don't play with your food!"
Willow had Xander pinned against the wall, his stake and cross
lost long ago. "Just one kiss. We kissed so sweetly at the factory.
Do you remember? And Cordy got impaled wasting all the delicious blood..."
She licked his neck suggestively. The game face was gone,
and the pale redheaded who had haunted his fantasies
for several years was now wanting him, very badly it seemed.
Her brown eyes caught his and he was gone.
He didn't care that she was a vampire. He didn't care
that his rival Oz was now a rug. he just wanted to lose
himself in the midnight eyes before him.
"Xander!" Buffy yelled as Willow sunk her fangs into him.
"Oh he'll be fine. Menage a trois can work well, as long as
there is no doubt about the dominant alpha male."
Angelus had moved fast during her distraction, and now he pinned her arms,
and sank his fangs into her. Buffy felt her life slipping
from her. Weak, dizzy, with everything going
dark, she heard Angelus say, "As Ricean as it sounds, I'm going
to give you a choice. You may either die, and have another Slayer
activated in your place or you may come with me, into darkness.
I always wondered what would happen if there was a vampire Slayer."
Willow giggled at his pun as Xander thrashed the end of his mortality away at her
feet, and lay still.
"Well, Slayer, your time is about up. Is it death or unlife? I think
you have about five more heartbeats left."
"Angel," she managed. "I love you."
Damn, that was no answer. Or maybe it was. She wanted death.
And that was exactly what he wouldn't give her.
He slit his wrist and dribbled it into her mouth, before guiding
her to suckle there. He removed her,
and watched her die. The next night was going
to be a great deal of fun.