The Phone Call by Chaosti
A/N: All right people, I'm warning you now. This is a very dark fic. I'm not kidding. There's violence, strong language, adult content, character death and suicidal tendencies. So this is not a fun fic in any way. At all. Period. Exclamation point. So what I'm trying to say here is that if you're not in a dark mood and you're creeped out by that kind of stuff then you should probably click out of this fic RIGHT NOW. I'm not trying to discourage people from reading this, I do want people to read it, not to mention review it (cough *hint hint* cough), all I'm doing is warning you. So don't say I didn't.
Disclaimer: Well, let's see now. The last time I looked in the mirror, I wasn't Joss Whedon. Wait, let me check again... Nope! Still not Joss Whedon. Now that's important for two reasons. Reason #1: The spell I did this morning to transform into Joss didn't work, so it's highly likely that I have no magical ability whatsoever. So still not Joss. And that brings us to...
Reason #2: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the series. So let's use our brains here. I'm not making any money off of this fic, so no one should sue me. (Picture a reasonable, if a bit pleading tone of voice when I say this.) Now the only way I would get any money by writing this is if someone was paying me to, which they're not. Now if someone would like to pay me for writing this I wouldn't object...
A/N 2: The Phone Call is set somewhere in the fourth season of Buffy. I don't know exactly for sure where, but certainly a ways before New Moon Rising and The Yoko Factor. In my head it's taking place a month or two after Buffy and Riley got together. But I'm also totally screwing with the first season of Angel, but all the events in I Will Remember You occurred, Doyle did die, and Wesley is working for Angel, but I'm not sure of anything beyond that. So what it all boils down to is that you can imagine that this takes place whenever the hell you want it to. I certainly can't stop you, so I'm just going to encourage it. Whatever, just enjoy. And review, I do ask that you review. I review a whole hell of a lot of fics, and sometimes it seems like all I do is review, so just try. Please?
The Phone Call by Chaosti
*Buffy's POV*
"So what are you saying exactly?" Giles took his glasses off and started cleaning them with a handkerchief. Something Buffy had noticed that he did a lot. And really, who owns a handkerchief these days? Buffy thought she remembered her grandmother in Florida blowing her nose in one once, but she wasn't exactly sure.
Buffy was sitting in the living room of Giles' apartment with Xander, Willow, Riley and the Watcher himself. They were supposed to be discussing what had happened on the patrol they had just gotten back from. No such luck.
"What I'm saying is that I'm too young and way to pretty to kick the bucket. I'm in the prime of my life. And I don't think I've entirely finished sowing my wild oats–"
"Xander, first of all that question was directed at Willow. I was asking her to recount the events that occurred on this evening's patrol. And second of all, I don't ever want to hear about anything even remotely pertaining to your "wild oats" as you call them, and by the way that is one of the most vulgar expressions that I have ever heard of!"
"Not that I've given this any thought or anything but could Xander's little guys really be considered 'wild'? They're home grown, sort of, 'cause Xander grew up in a city with both of his parents, who admittedly aren't the best influences for children. And he's not one much for nature, remember what happened the last time we attempted to go camping? No, you know what? I'd rather forget about that. And every time we have to go on patrol in the woods you always stick close to me or Buffy and jump at every little–"
"Willow!" Both Xander and Giles had chosen that moment to cut the teen witch off before she got really into her train of thought, but for very different reasons.
"Ok, let's get something straight here, Will. Nothing, absolutely nothing at all about my guys is ever to be referred to as 'little.'"
"Xander, I don't think that's what she was–" Riley started, but was interrupted.
"I will brook no opposition on this subject. Understood?" Everyone nodded vigorously.
"Could we PLEASE get back to discussing the patrol?" Giles was beginning to lose his patience.
"I think it's pretty much a lost cause at this point, topic wise. Really, I think we should just chalk it up to one of those things that we always mean to discuss but never actually get around to, you know, like the federal deficit, or what all those little vacuum attachments are really for." Buffy had decided to throw her own two cents in before this discussion got anymore out of hand. "So why don't we all take a deep breath, come on, that's it, and relax for a moment. OK?
Once they had all gotten back on track, Buffy recounted the events from earlier this evening.
"So after we took down the nest of vampires over by Restfield Cemetery, we divided into groups and did a quick sweep of the rest of the graves. We staked two more newbies fresh from the grave and had to dispatch of a few Kenzera demons who got the bright idea in their heads that Xander would make an appetizing dinner. And that was why Xander was a little freaked out."
"A little freaked out? A LITTLE FREAKED OUT? Let me tell you something: When a Kenzera demon, or any kind of demon for that matter, has you locked in a head grip, and another one is trying to baste you in a maple honey glaze complete with cloves, you are not 'a little freaked out,' you are terrified for your life and quickly discovering religion, praying to any and all deities to save your ass! So forgive me if I haven't completely calmed down. I don't think I will until I get home and wash this glaze out of my hair. And since when do demons provide their own spices?
Giles decided to field that one. "Well, Kenzera demons have always been noted as having a refined taste in food and lairs."
"Is that a compliment?" Xander asked.
Apparently having not heard him, Giles continued. "Though why they went after Xander I suppose we'll never know"
"We know why they went after me! Because I'm delectable and delicious and any demon would naturally want to eat me." Buffy wasn't sure, but she thought Xander sounded a little miffed when he said that.
"Well Xander, the next time we need to lure a demon out of hiding, we can roast you, cut you up, and serve you on a Wedgwood dish. I personally will stand behind your remains and use a fan to waft the scent in the direction of the demon. How does that sound?" Giles was definitely not in the mood tonight.
Xander didn't look too happy at this prospect. "So now all I am to the group is bait? Is that right?
"Well you just said--"
The telephone rang, interrupting whatever point Giles was about to make. Rolling his eyes at Xander, Giles went to answer it. "Hello?"
"How are you? I heard you're in LA now?" At the mention of LA, Buffy perked up and looked at Giles with a questioning expression on her face.
"Yes, she's right here actually. Hang on." Giles looked at Buffy. "It's for you."
Again, Buffy looked at Giles, questions written all over her face. Not having the answers for any of them, Giles handed her the phone. "It's Wesley."
"Wesley?" Buffy said into the phone
*Willow's POV*
Willow had been watching the entire thing. She saw her best friend's face when two letters were mentioned: LA. She saw how a stream of emotions had been playing on her face, all in rapid succession: hope, fear, love, anger, and an overwhelming sadness. That was Buffy's face anytime her ex-boyfriend was mentioned.
Now Willow watched as Buffy took the phone and spoke with her ex-Watcher for the first time since quitting the council and kicking Wyndam-Price's ass out of Sunnydale.
"Wesley, what are you doing in LA? Is something wrong? What's going–"
Willow knew what was happening before anyone else did.
"What?" Buffy's voice took on a plaintive tone. A tone of begging and pleading.
She could see it, could sense it coming. She didn't know how she knew, she just knew.
"No! No! No! NO!" Buffy was in denial, she couldn't be hearing what she was hearing. There was no way in this world she was hearing what she was. There was no deity this cruel.
So when Buffy fainted, dead to the world, Willow was already by her side by the time she hit the floor with a resounding THUMP.
"Hello? Buffy?" Willow could still hear the faint voice coming from the receiver. She picked it up and spoke into the phone. "Wesley? What—"
"He's dead, Willow. Angel's dead."
A/N Am I evil or what? Angelus can't hold a candle to me. Review please.
