Title: Too Late

Author: Evil_Little_Dog

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: This is a derivative work, and, as such, I make absolutely no money writing this. Darn the luck.

Summary: Buffy runs into Angelus, after he's killed Jenny.

Notes: Written for the LJ Community, Comment_Fic.

The words hammered through her skull with each step: Too late, too late. Buffy wished she could stop walking. Maybe if she stopped walking, she wouldn't hear those words.

"What words?" His voice came slyly over her shoulder.

Buffy froze, her hands clenching into fists. By the sound of Angel's chuckle, her wince telegraphed itself to him. "I wasn't talking to you." She hadn't realized she'd been talking out loud. Great way to find out she was.

"You were talking to someone, Buff. If it wasn't your conscience, it must be me." Angel walked around her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his long coat. He smiled, that cocky, annoying smile. He was out of reach unless she wanted to rush him. Buffy knew he'd like that too much.

Folding her arms, she said, "Oh, like you're who I'd choose for a conscience!"

He stopped in the center of his path, facing her, his legs spread, his head tucked. Blocking her way. "C'mon, Buff, it's not like you're going to find better. Who else would you choose? Your Watcher? Oh, no. Not him. I took care of ol' Giles. He'll be somewhere between plotting my untimely demise," Angel somehow copied Giles' accent for those last three words, "or drinking his meals for the next three months. Who does that leave? The boy?" Angel made a loud, obnoxious buzzer noise. "He's an idiot. Oh, sure, he tries, really hard. And he has the hots for you."

Buffy didn't even see Angel move, just felt his cold breath against her ear. "But now you're damaged goods, sleeping with me." Before she could react, Angel was back in her path again, about twenty steps away. Smiling. "That leaves the witch, right?" Pursing his mouth, he shrugged. "She might be good for it."

Time to change tactics. "What do you want, Angel?"

His grin widened. "Aw, Buff, I thought we were sharing a moment!"

"We aren't sharing anything except this moment in time." And Buffy would rather not be sharing it right now, thank you. She tapped her foot, debating whether she could walk around Angel without him following her. She wasn't worried about him trying to kill her, at least not yet. He wasn't nearly done playing with her.

"But we shared so much!" Angel spread his hands. "You have to admit, we've had a lot of really. Amazing. Moments."

"And they're over," Buffy hissed.

Angel's eyes narrowed but his mouth still smiled. "No, the gypsy's over. You and me? We've just begun."

Buffy realized she was moving half-way into her charge. She led with a spin kick that Angel blocked with his elbow. He swept the next few punches out of the way, too, laughing, as if they were playing. Buffy screwed up her mouth, feinting toward his groin and, when Angel moved to block, she slammed her palm into his nose, knocking him to the ground. She knelt on his chest, the stake against his chest, her own heaving. Her heart chipped away as she stared down into his pale face, not seeing the man she loved in the depths of those dark eyes, only a demon smirking out.

Too late, too late, too late. Her heart beat in time to the words. Hauling back her fist, Buffy punched him in the face, hard enough to break a normal girl's hand. The expression in his eyes blanked out as Angel lost consciousness. Buffy shook her hand at the horrible sting and got to her feet. If she was lucky, Angel would stay unconscious until dawn.

But she figured it was too late for that kind of luck.

~ end ~