The Surprise of Innocence
The thunder outside rumbled through the bedroom window, sound waves vibrating the small room. The peaceful sound of raindrops massaged the air as lightening charged it with electricity.
Beneath the rumpled covers, a small form lay covered from the elements; her blond hair falling and framing her face. In wistful sleep, her hand reached across the bed, reaching for her lover. After months of trepidation, he had finally shown her how truly he loves her. The experience was everything she could have dreamed and more. As the light of the street lights outside bounced off her ring, her hand touched the satin of the pillowcase.
The lack of skin contact awakened the sleeping Slayer. Alarmed, she raised her head and looked around. The sheet where her lover had laid was disturbed and pulled back. The chair that sat in front of the old wooden desk was empty; the coat tree was the same.
Worry entering her body; Buffy pulled the covers closer to her naked form and sat up in bed. Hopeful she would receive a reply she called out; "Angel!?"
No response.
Carefully wrapping herself in the blood red Duvet, Buffy exited the bed. Walking towards the kitchen, she called out again.
"Angel? Are you here?" Silence was her answer. Did the Judge come back while I slept? Buffy's mind began to race to thoughts of Angel luring the Judge from the apartment in an effort to keep Buffy safe.
She made a patrol of the dwelling, but found no evidence that Angel or the Judge had fought. Walking over to the desk, Buffy clenched the Duvet closer around her as she scoured the desktop for clues to Angel's disappearance. Glancing at the clock, Buffy saw the time; 7:30.
Oh, God! I'm late for school! Buffy franticly searched the room again for signs of Angel only to find none. Her heart began racing as she found herself in a problem; she needed to find Angel and make sure he was safe, but she also had to hurry home and change before her mom worried about her. Maybe Angel's waiting at the Library, Buffy thought optimistically. Dressing quickly, Buffy hurried out of the apartment.
******
The loud SLAM! of the back door was muted by the coinciding crash of thunder. Neither could mute the amount of pain and fear that radiated through Angel's body. Whatever was happening to him felt a thousand times hotter than the Judge. And much more dangerous; especially for Buffy. The peaceful dreams he was having; in other words, he was reliving his moment of happiness with Buffy. Angel had not felt anything so pure in all his undead life. The hope that surged through him could probably charge a small power station.
Then it all changed. His dream went from pleasure to pain. Images flashed through his mind of all the lives he had taken as Angelus; the pleasure from their pain. Those memories had caused Angel to sit up straight in bed. Before he knew it, as if an instinct, he had dressed and vacated the room while Buffy slept. Whatever was surging through him, needed to be as far away from Buffy as possible.
Lightening cracked the sky, as Angel stumbled in the rain. Losing his footing, he fell to the rain soaked ground. Angel could feel a power surge through him and leave all at once. He felt almost as though he was about to lose consciousness. He could feel a pull that he had no control of.
"Buffy!" he called out. But it wasn't much louder than a whisper. Then a voice in his mind said, She's first, dead boy. And then, images of Buffy dying began to play through his mind. Thoughts that were not his own, but belonging to someone else; someone much worse than the Judge.
"Oh, no," Angel cried as the full weight of his body finally hit the concrete. Knowing he had lost the fight, Angel lowered his head and prayed that Buffy would be to do what he knew she would have to do in order not only to stop the Judge, but him as well.
**
He laid still, the rain pouring over him. Slowly, he began to feel the wetness of the water as it soaked though his clothes. The coolness of the concrete seeped into his hands, lowering his already cold body temperature more. It's about damn time, he thought as his thought processes became his again. A century had passed since he was able to form a free thought.
Images of his liaison with the Slayer played through his mind as if something was trying to fight back. All it did, was serve to anger him more. He had never felt anything so pure, so good, in all his undead life. And that purity really pissed him off. The Slayer had to die.
Suddenly, burning hunger that had consumed him when he first came to be, consumed him. Only one way to fix that problem, he thought. As if on cue, he could hear the soft footsteps of a woman as she closed in on him. Well, Well, Buff, come looking for me? A part of him smiled with delight as he though of drinking a Slayer.
Quickly and callously, he stood, making sure to keep his back to her.
"You okay?" her voice said softly. "Do I need to call 911?"
"No, the pain is gone," he responded.
"You sure?" she asked again.
In a flash of lightening, he had spun around and had his hands around the Slayer, mouth to her neck, drinking. As her lifeless form fell to the ground, he exhaled smoke into the air.
"I feel fine," he responded, his villainous features exposed.
Feeling quite pleased with himself, he looked down at the dead woman.
As Angel turned his head to stare at his kill, he noticed she was not the Slayer he so desperately wanted to kill. Her hair was blond, clothing similar, but her face was not what the images he had pulled from his goody-two shoed other half's memories had shown him. He could feel a part of him rejoice in the fact that he had not killed Buffy. It was bad enough living with Liam's life the first time.
"Well, shit!" he exclaimed. He needed to regroup and figure out a new way to get back at that bitch Slayer and her "angel" of a boyfriend. But where? Searching Angel's memories he found the perfect place.
**
Walking through the metal door, Angel snuck in and waited behind a wall. He could see Spike and Drusilla talking by a large, long, wooden table. Drusilla was spouting something about stars in one of her usual bouts lunacy. Spike was trying to reason her into divulging more information about what had happened to Angel.
That's my cue, Angel thought, as he made his Broadway debut.
"You just don't give up, do you?" Spike spat.
Looking at Spike's current "disability" Angel couldn't help but see an opening.
"As long as scum like you is walking...well, rolling the streets... I'll be around."
He smirked as he saw the anger flash through Spike's eyes.
Spike instructed him to turn around him. When he did, he saw a big, blue, ugly demon that looked like it came form the Middle Ages place a hand to his chest. The slight tingle that surged through him almost made him laugh has it tickled his senses.
"There is no humanity in him," Big Blue Ugly stated as he turned and left to go back to whatever corner he was lurking in.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Angel replied as he turned back to where Spike and Drusilla stood in awe and pleasure.
"You mean…he's..?" Spike couldn't even begin to form the words.
Drusilla got a dreamy look on her face as she stared at her sire.
"Angelus?" she whispered, full of hope. Smiling a half smile of grateful recognition, Angel replied to Drusilla.
"Yeah, baby.... I'm back."
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All I have to say is " Yeah, baby...I'm back!" Click the box to review!
(Oh, I do have ONE thing to say; Thanks to Cryngle for inspiration! Hope I did good! ;)