The town of Sunnydale was silent as the old Chevy convertible pulled to a stop outside the largest of the town's nine cemeteries. Although the windows of the Chevy were usually blacked out during the day time, the darkness of the night allowed the man to leave the top down and enjoy the night air as he drove. The girl in his backseat barely stirred during the drive, not that he cared. He had already done more than enough in the form of saving her life, and now he was fulfilling his agreement and bringing her here, for someone else to take care of. Taking care of the girl was no longer his problem. Killing people was more his style.
With a contended sigh he turned off the engine. As much as he hated to admit it, he could never kill the girl; he had too much fun with her while she was alive. Most importantly, not killing her was essential to keeping the long-term contract he had agreed to years before she had even been born. He got out of the car and leaned into the back seat to pick her up. At some point throughout the drive to Sunnydale he had had an urge to cover her up with an old blanket he had found in his trunk. Now he was cursing himself for not putting it underneath her. She was still bleeding; he could smell it. And he hoped to God she hadn't ruined his leather seats.
He scooped her up with a gentleness that he had forgotten he was capable of and then started across the cemetery grounds with her. She was freezing, he could see her shaking, and he laughed to himself when she attempted to duck her head into his shoulder to stay warm. She obviously hadn't been conscious long enough to figure out who it was that was carrying her. Last time she had seen him, she had been ready to kill him herself she had been so mad at him.
Everything was quiet in the old cemetery. It was a calm and peaceful night, but the vampire was angry. Where was the evil, the fighting, the blood? He had been hoping to find a nice meal somewhere nearby after he dropped his girl off. Of course, he had a warm, injured human body stupidly snuggling up to him in his arms, and he couldn't even bite her. Well, he probably could, but when she healed and her strength returned she would kill him. He knew better than to take advantage or her in her weakened state, no matter how good her blood smelled to him.
The slayer must be doing her job, he thought to himself. There's no other reason a Sunnydale cemetery could be this quiet. But as long as he was around, he planned on livening the place up for her. He hadn't seen the Slayer in almost two years, not since the fiery little blonde had freed him from that Gypsy curse, freed him from that torturous soul. Since then his life had been blood and corpses, torture and violence. He was desperately trying to forget that terrible year when he had worked along side the Slayer actually slaying evil and, worst of all, actually loving her on the side. He shook his head quickly to clear any thoughts of that terrible year, just grateful to be his old self again.
Angelus suddenly felt something sticky on his hand that was supporting the girl's back. Shifting her body weight against his chest, he held up his hand to examine what it was. Thick, red blood shined from his hand in the moonlight. Despite the girl's bleeding, he could hear her heartbeat. He could practically feel her pulse thundering against his body. Yes, she was hurt badly, but the girl would live. She was stronger than most ordinary humans and even when she was beaten this badly, she would survive. He knew she wasn't one to give in that easily.
He was still contemplating the blood on his hand when he heard a rustling in the trees up ahead of him. Shifting the girl more comfortably against him again, he lengthened his stride and headed purposefully to where he was going. He was anxious to drop off the girl and move on to more interesting activities. The night was young, and he was hungry.
He was so absorbed in the thought of what the rest of the night held in store for him that he had nearly forgotten about the disturbance that he had noticed ahead of him. But there was no mistaking that tingling in his throat. He knew who waited ahead; he could nearly taste her.
She had been watching him for the last couple of minutes, peeking out from among her hiding spot in the trees. Hiding was definitely not her style. She much more of a jump-out-of-the-trees-and-get-this-stuff-done kind of girl. But the vampire who she was spying on required her attention. There was no mistaking the history she had with him or the feelings that she had in her stomach now about potentially going up against him. But she had killed him before, and she would gladly do it again.
What confused her was the girl that the vampire carried. He carried her almost reverently, careful not to disturb or hurt her. She had seen the blood that was on the vampire's hand. What was he planning on doing to the poor girl? From her position in the trees, she couldn't tell how old the girl was. Lying there wrapped in a blanket in the vampire's arms, she looked very small and very comfortable for someone who was probably being carried somewhere only so that she could be tortured for days and eventually eaten.
The vampire smiled again. His smile became even wider and he actually laughed. He couldn't believe that the stupid girl thought she was spying on him unnoticed. Then his smile faded. He was getting tired of her. He wondered if he had time to kill her and still get his injured package delivered before she bled to death. Despite his attempts to
The girl stretched her legs and stood up from where she had been crouched on the ground. This was ridiculous. She knew that he knew she was there. Why put off the inevitable? Buffy Summers stepped out from behind the trees directly into Angelus' path.
"Hiya sweetie." Angelus curled one lip upward in a cocky half smile. "Miss me much?"
Buffy was unimpressed. She knew that he could take her by surprise if she wasn't prepared. Despite being evil again, his face was still that of Angel's, her first love. But if she allowed herself to see that, he would win. She briefly reminded herself that Angel was gone—dead—and that Angelus was all that was left of him.
"You should have stayed away, honey," she mocked him with a smile, but her hand tightened on the stake that was in her shoulder bag.
"Oh, I tried. But there's just something about Sunnydale. It's not the sun…it must be all the delicious people just walking around waiting to be eaten. I heard the population was getting out of control again baby, thought I'd stop by. Lend a hand."
"It looks like you've already been busy," Buffy said with a nod towards the unconscious girl in his arms. "Give me the girl, Angelus." She was all business. Save the innocent, slay the vamps, ignore the evil bastard of a vampire who was standing before her.
"But she's so close to dying. You might as well just leave her with me." Angelus practically shuddered with excitement—he had been craving a fight with his ex. He couldn't wait to destroy her.
"I'll kill you," Buffy countered. She had already started inching her way towards him, her body tightened and ready for a fight. Her main concern was the girl. She wasn't sure if she was ready to take on Angelus that night, but if he put up a fight, she would deal with it.
"No lover, you don't get it. She's so close to dying. Like, I've got to get her somewhere now before she does die." Angelus held up his bloodstained hand. "You see, I know this might be hard to hear, but I've found another woman. Buffy, I think it's love." Angelus smiled widely. He loved to see the moment of insecurity cross the Slayer's face. This chick still loves Angel, he thought. How pathetically freaking cute.
Buffy was almost in the perfect position to swing her legs around and knock Angelus' legs out from underneath him before he had a chance to stop her. She prepared herself for the attack. If she could knock the girl out of Angelus' arms, then hopefully she could fight him off just long enough before he gave up, or at least until she figured out a better strategy. She took her last step forward, ready to attack.
"Hm, hm hm." Angelus shook his head back and forth and wagged a finger from his free hand at her. "Take another step and I'll finish her." With his shoulder, he nudged the girl's head into a different position so that her bare neck was exposed and facing up to him. His faced transformed quickly into his vampire guise. With a grin aimed towards the Slayer, he slid his fangs expertly over the skin at the base of the girl's neck, just piercing her skin enough to leave a trail of blood where his teeth had been. A voice in his head reminded him that she was going to kick his ass when she got better, but the blood leaking out of the small slice in her neck smelt so good that he ignored the voice. He savored the look of terror on the Slayer's face as she watched him enjoy the scent of the girl's blood.
With that, Buffy was ready to attack. She didn't care if the girl got thrown to the ground in the scuffle—she would be better off being dumped out of Angelus' arms than if Buffy allowed Angelus to carry her off and suck her dry later. Buffy started to swing her leg around to send a swift kick to the back of Angelus' knees, hopefully to send him falling to the ground. Before she could put her move into action, the bundle in Angelus' arms stirred, and a sound came out from underneath the blanket. Buffy wasn't sure why it had caused her to hesitate, but she did.
The voice seemed frail, but there was a power behind it that Buffy wasn't sure of. Actually, she and Angelus had both been so far into their little game that neither had caught what the girl had said.
The girl tried to stretch in his arms, and a sharp gasp of pain escaped her lips in the process. Had that really just come from her? She couldn't remember being in this much pain. She opened her eyes and looked up at the strong man holding her. Her vision was foggy from being kept in the dark for so long, but as her eyes adjusted to the moonlit night, she recognized the face. Of course! She had been listening to him speak for the last few minutes, but strangely, her exhausted brain couldn't put the angelic face to the familiar vampire's voice. At least she knew she wasn't in any immediate danger. He wouldn't hurt her.
Her heavy eyes started to close again when she remembered something else. There had been another voice. She attempted to twist her neck around to see whom Angelus had been quarreling with, but she was met with a fresh stab of pain from her abdomen. She tried a different approach, but when she made the effort to bend her head under and look around Angelus' arms, she found even worse pain coming from her back. She took stock of herself and realized that she couldn't move her left arm and that her right leg was throbbing with pain as well. What the hell had happened to her?
Angelus and Buffy had stayed frozen in their positions while the bewildered girl attempted to take in her surroundings. Buffy was preparing herself to fight or flee, depending upon whether or not this girl she had been trying to save turned out to be good or evil. Angelus was staring down inquisitively at the now awake girl in his arms. He supposed he wouldn't get to fight the Slayer anymore now that his package was awake, and he was a little annoyed. He relaxed back into his human features.
Finally, the girl succeeded at twisting her body around enough so that she could turn her head to see who was standing in Angelus' path. The blonde girl who stood facing Angelus looked about her age, eighteen, maybe a year older or so. She looked fit and, well, she looked like she was ready to kick some ass. Regardless of the confused look the stranger currently had, she looked like she could inflict some major damage. The thought of that made the injured girl smile. God, she hoped Angelus would get his ass kicked sometime soon.
Buffy couldn't take her eyes off of the person in Angelus' arms. She was Buffy's age probably, Buffy's height, maybe Buffy's weight too. From there, the similarities ended. The girl's hair was a deep, rich shade of brunette, a shade so rich that many people spent hundreds of dollars attempting to achieve that same color at hair salons across the country, but never succeeded. Her eyes were so dark they appeared black in the unlit cemetery. Under her eyes, however, were layers of dark purple and gray circles. The girl looked exhausted. Her skin was very pale. Buffy thought back to what Angelus had been saying—the girl did look very close to dying. Buffy had been so focused on scrutinizing the girl's condition, she was taken aback when she looked to the girl's face again and found her smiling at Buffy. Buffy cocked her head slightly to the side in contemplation. Who was this girl?
Finally, the bundle in Angelus' arms found her voice and spoke again, "My God. You're Buffy, you're the Slayer."
Buffy blinked and then recovered. Her voice was strong and sure, despite how weak she appeared. "Yeah, I'm the Slayer. Who are you?"
"Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot we don't actually know each other. My real name's Calla Beckman, but you can call me Cora."
