Spoilers: Up to "Who Are You" on BtVS and "Parting Gifts" on Angel, after
that this branches off into its own Buffy-verse.
Author's note: The title comes from a Jewel song; I included a bit of the lyrics below.
"There is this hunger,
This restlessness inside of me.
And it knows that you're no stranger,
You're my gravity."
Buffy
Thwack!
I love that sound. The sound of my fist connecting with a vampire's face. It's like a drug that I can't get enough of. I can't believe that I used to want to run away from this. I mean, yeah, sometimes my life really sucks beyond anything anyone could imagine, but there are other times - like when I'm fighting vampires - that it all just seems to come together perfectly.
There were a lot more vampires out tonight than I had expected. I had stumbled upon a nest of the bloodsuckers and was determined to clean them out before I left on my road trip to Nevada tomorrow. I had promised Giles that I'd do a really thorough sweep of all the un-dead hot spots tonight and I was definitely going to deliver.
A young vampire, wearing a torn up Metalica t-shirt and jeans, rushed me and I nailed it with a sidekick, sending the stupid creature flying into a stack of boxes near the wall. I rolled my eyes. You'd think they'd learn that trick doesn't work after trying it like a gazillion times.
Another vampire lunged at me from behind, but I could sense it coming and sidestepped easily. The vampire stumbled over its own feet and hit the ground hard. I pulled out Mr. Pointy, my only legacy from Kendra, and plunged the wooden stake through the vampire's heart. It exploded in a shower of dust, causing me to sneeze violently.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder and threw me across the room, taking me totally by surprise. I hit the ground hard, knocking my head against the sharp corner of a heavy metal safe, and lay there for a minute, dazed, as I tried to regain my equilibrium. Get up! Get up! I commanded myself, rolling over and pushing myself to my feet. Half a dozen vampires were closing in on me, though I couldn't be sure of the exact number because my vision was all blurry. I felt something warm and sticky trickle into my eyes and used one hand to swipe at my face. My hand came back red with blood. I looked around on the ground for my stake, but it was nowhere to be seen. It must have rolled away during the fight. This was not good.
The first vampire rushed me, and I punched it, sending it staggering backwards, clutching its nose. Another attacked and got in a good hit before I swiped its legs out from under it. It hit the ground hard and I followed through with a swift kick to its side. It rolled away and began to pull itself to its feet slowly while one of its friends took its place.
As I continued to fight, my body growing more tired and sore with every hit they managed to land on me, I tried to think of a plan. I couldn't keep fighting like this for much longer. I was loosing steam fast and there were so many of them. Coming in here without backup was looking like a bigger and bigger mistake with each passing second. I needed a weapon, something to even the odds.
One of the vampires, the one with the Metalica shirt, landed a punch on my jaw, sending my head snapping backwards with the force of the blow. I saw stars for a minute. And then, as I backpedaled, trying to clear my vision, I heard the distinctive *poof* of a vampire being dusted. A stake was thrust into my hand and I looked up to see Alan standing there, bleeding from a cut on his lip, and brandishing a crossbow. The Metalica loving vampire was no more.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" I demanded, forgetting for the moment that a gang of vampires surrounded us.
"Saving your arse," he responded, taking aim and letting a bolt fly from his crossbow. It sailed right into the heart of an advancing vampire, turning the unfortunate bloodsucker into dust. Out of bolts, Alan switched his grip on the crossbow and used it as a club to bash another vampire in the head. I watched, amazed, as he pulled a vial of holy water out of his jacket pocket and threw it at the vampire's face. Then he pulled a stake out and drove it through the steaming vampire's heart. More dust.
I thrust my stake in and then out of the heart of one of the last three remaining vamps and it exploded into dust. "Okay, who are you and what did you do with the cute Irish guy I met in Las Vegas?" I asked Alan, using the stake he'd given me to kill a vampire that was trying to sneak up on us from behind. As I watched Alan struggle with the last vampire for a moment, I couldn't help but mutter, "It's like an episode of the Twilight Zone or something."
The vampire Alan was fighting was strong, too strong for him. It had his arms pinned and was about to go for his neck when I walked up and tapped it on the shoulder. "In case you didn't notice, all your friends are dust." I grabbed Mr. Pointy off the floor, glad that I hadn't lost my favorite stake after all, and thrust it through the vampire's heart. "And now, so are you."
The vampire disappeared in a cloud of dust and Alan fell to the floor, finally free of the fiend's grip. He lay there for a minute, just trying to catch his breath, and then he began to push himself slowly to his feet. I reached out a hand to steady him, my emotions doing the loopty-loop as my fingers touched his arm. He was real. He was alive. He was here. And for some strange reason, he knew how to kill a vampire.
Pushing my emotions aside for the time being, I concentrated on business. Undead shop talk. "Okay, not that I'm not grateful for the save, but since when did you become a super hero?"
Alan sighed, suddenly looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. My heart constricted painfully in my chest at the mere thought that he might not be happy to see me again. Had what we shared meant nothing to him? Was it really just a one-night stand and nothing else? And how the hell did he know about VAMPIRES?!?!?!
"Alan…" I started, but he interrupted me.
"Actually, my friends don't call me Alan."
That was the absolute last thing I expected to hear him say. Fighting hard to keep from totally wigging, I replied in an overly-calm voice, "Alright, then what do they call you?"
"Mostly, they call me Doyle."
That was when I made the connection.
Reacting on instinct, my fist flew out and caught him on the jaw, sending him flying backwards a few steps. Miraculously, he managed to stay on his feet, though he did look pretty stunned.
"You lied to me."
That was the first thought I had and it disturbed me. But it wasn't the last, not by a long shot. There were plenty more where that came from. Too many. It was like information overload. My thoughts were whirling around in my brain, trying to make some sense out this huge mess that I suddenly found myself in.
Doyle. Cordelia's Doyle. That sense of déjà vu the first time we met in the bar… no that wasn't the first time, was it? The first time we met had been in the LA offices so long ago. He'd barely gotten a word out before Cordelia had pulled him away so I could talk to Angel.
Angel.
I hadn't thought about my first lover in a long time.
God, why was this happening? Did fate have it out for me? Did the Powers that Be enjoy watching me suffer? Was this all just some sick joke with my life as the punch line?
Almost as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he spoke, "Buffy… please." His voice sounded so sad. Like a lost little boy. It still affected me. And that just made me even angrier.
"Why?" I demanded, fixing him with my hardest glare. "Why did you lie to me?"
He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, a defeated look in his eyes. "I don't know, lass."
"No, that's not gonna cut it, Mister! I want a real answer!" I knew that I was about to cry. I hated crying.
"I guess… I just wanted to know you. And you wouldn't have let me near you if you knew who I really was."
"So you thought that lying to me and then sleeping with me was the answer?"
He didn't have a response for that one. Not that I really expected him to.
"Okay, you wanted a little action and figured that, knowing my track record, I'd be an easy lay. And your little plan worked perfectly, didn't it? You got plenty of sex and no commitments to deal with in the morning. So, the question is: Why the hell did you come back? Did you think you could talk me into a repeat performance? Or maybe you were just planning to bring up Angel's name and then swoop in and take advantage of me while I was in a vulnerable state! What's your deal, DOYLE?" I placed extra stress on the name Doyle, making it sound like an insult instead of a name. He flinched back and I was relieved. I wanted to hurt him in any way I could. Because I was afraid that if I didn't keep him distracted, he'd see right through me and know that underneath all my anger, I was aching for him in true, I-belong-in-a-cheesy-romance-novel fashion. "Do you get your jollies by screwing up other people's lives?"
"You know that's not true, lass," he whispered, his voice full of a need so strong that it was almost tangible. It scared me to think that I might need him just as badly.
He reached out and brushed his fingers across my cheek. His feather light touch lingered against my skin and I shivered, my body betraying me by being overpowered by a sense of longing that I did *not* want to feel for him. His thumb slid across my lower lip, causing me to inhale sharply.
"Why are you really here?" I asked, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. I didn't trust myself to say more than that.
Alan - er, Doyle - sighed. And, right then and there, somehow I knew that he was going to tell me the truth. And I knew that I wasn't going to like it one bit. Not that I was particularly thrilled with anything *else* he'd told me tonight, but deep in my gut I knew that this was going to be really bad.
"Did Angel ever tell you about my visions?" he asked abruptly. The question caught me off guard, seeing as it was quite possibly the last thing I'd expected him to say. Well, it seemed that my one-time lover was just full of surprises tonight, wasn't he?
"He mentioned it, yeah."
"Did he ever tell you anything else about my more 'unique' qualities?"
"No, he didn't. Sorry to burst your bubble, but when Angel and I were in LA together that day, you weren't the primary thing on our minds. We were pretty busy riding the Buffy and Angel roller coaster of angst."
I took a step back from him, upset to realize that it didn't seem to make a difference whether he was two feet away or two hundred. He still affected me. Trying to ignore my emotions, I crossed my arms over my chest defensively and waited for him to drop the next bomb.
I didn't have to wait long.
Doyle's face suddenly started to transform before my very eyes. His skin color changed from a healthy peach to a sickly green. Spikes began to push their way through his skin, sprouting all over his face. His eyes turned blood red.
All in all, it looked very painful.
He watched me for a long moment, almost as if he was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Afraid that any sudden motion would send me screaming out into the night like a lunatic.
But he underestimated me. I'm the Slayer. I don't scare that easily.
Author's note: The title comes from a Jewel song; I included a bit of the lyrics below.
"There is this hunger,
This restlessness inside of me.
And it knows that you're no stranger,
You're my gravity."
Buffy
Thwack!
I love that sound. The sound of my fist connecting with a vampire's face. It's like a drug that I can't get enough of. I can't believe that I used to want to run away from this. I mean, yeah, sometimes my life really sucks beyond anything anyone could imagine, but there are other times - like when I'm fighting vampires - that it all just seems to come together perfectly.
There were a lot more vampires out tonight than I had expected. I had stumbled upon a nest of the bloodsuckers and was determined to clean them out before I left on my road trip to Nevada tomorrow. I had promised Giles that I'd do a really thorough sweep of all the un-dead hot spots tonight and I was definitely going to deliver.
A young vampire, wearing a torn up Metalica t-shirt and jeans, rushed me and I nailed it with a sidekick, sending the stupid creature flying into a stack of boxes near the wall. I rolled my eyes. You'd think they'd learn that trick doesn't work after trying it like a gazillion times.
Another vampire lunged at me from behind, but I could sense it coming and sidestepped easily. The vampire stumbled over its own feet and hit the ground hard. I pulled out Mr. Pointy, my only legacy from Kendra, and plunged the wooden stake through the vampire's heart. It exploded in a shower of dust, causing me to sneeze violently.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder and threw me across the room, taking me totally by surprise. I hit the ground hard, knocking my head against the sharp corner of a heavy metal safe, and lay there for a minute, dazed, as I tried to regain my equilibrium. Get up! Get up! I commanded myself, rolling over and pushing myself to my feet. Half a dozen vampires were closing in on me, though I couldn't be sure of the exact number because my vision was all blurry. I felt something warm and sticky trickle into my eyes and used one hand to swipe at my face. My hand came back red with blood. I looked around on the ground for my stake, but it was nowhere to be seen. It must have rolled away during the fight. This was not good.
The first vampire rushed me, and I punched it, sending it staggering backwards, clutching its nose. Another attacked and got in a good hit before I swiped its legs out from under it. It hit the ground hard and I followed through with a swift kick to its side. It rolled away and began to pull itself to its feet slowly while one of its friends took its place.
As I continued to fight, my body growing more tired and sore with every hit they managed to land on me, I tried to think of a plan. I couldn't keep fighting like this for much longer. I was loosing steam fast and there were so many of them. Coming in here without backup was looking like a bigger and bigger mistake with each passing second. I needed a weapon, something to even the odds.
One of the vampires, the one with the Metalica shirt, landed a punch on my jaw, sending my head snapping backwards with the force of the blow. I saw stars for a minute. And then, as I backpedaled, trying to clear my vision, I heard the distinctive *poof* of a vampire being dusted. A stake was thrust into my hand and I looked up to see Alan standing there, bleeding from a cut on his lip, and brandishing a crossbow. The Metalica loving vampire was no more.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" I demanded, forgetting for the moment that a gang of vampires surrounded us.
"Saving your arse," he responded, taking aim and letting a bolt fly from his crossbow. It sailed right into the heart of an advancing vampire, turning the unfortunate bloodsucker into dust. Out of bolts, Alan switched his grip on the crossbow and used it as a club to bash another vampire in the head. I watched, amazed, as he pulled a vial of holy water out of his jacket pocket and threw it at the vampire's face. Then he pulled a stake out and drove it through the steaming vampire's heart. More dust.
I thrust my stake in and then out of the heart of one of the last three remaining vamps and it exploded into dust. "Okay, who are you and what did you do with the cute Irish guy I met in Las Vegas?" I asked Alan, using the stake he'd given me to kill a vampire that was trying to sneak up on us from behind. As I watched Alan struggle with the last vampire for a moment, I couldn't help but mutter, "It's like an episode of the Twilight Zone or something."
The vampire Alan was fighting was strong, too strong for him. It had his arms pinned and was about to go for his neck when I walked up and tapped it on the shoulder. "In case you didn't notice, all your friends are dust." I grabbed Mr. Pointy off the floor, glad that I hadn't lost my favorite stake after all, and thrust it through the vampire's heart. "And now, so are you."
The vampire disappeared in a cloud of dust and Alan fell to the floor, finally free of the fiend's grip. He lay there for a minute, just trying to catch his breath, and then he began to push himself slowly to his feet. I reached out a hand to steady him, my emotions doing the loopty-loop as my fingers touched his arm. He was real. He was alive. He was here. And for some strange reason, he knew how to kill a vampire.
Pushing my emotions aside for the time being, I concentrated on business. Undead shop talk. "Okay, not that I'm not grateful for the save, but since when did you become a super hero?"
Alan sighed, suddenly looking as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. My heart constricted painfully in my chest at the mere thought that he might not be happy to see me again. Had what we shared meant nothing to him? Was it really just a one-night stand and nothing else? And how the hell did he know about VAMPIRES?!?!?!
"Alan…" I started, but he interrupted me.
"Actually, my friends don't call me Alan."
That was the absolute last thing I expected to hear him say. Fighting hard to keep from totally wigging, I replied in an overly-calm voice, "Alright, then what do they call you?"
"Mostly, they call me Doyle."
That was when I made the connection.
Reacting on instinct, my fist flew out and caught him on the jaw, sending him flying backwards a few steps. Miraculously, he managed to stay on his feet, though he did look pretty stunned.
"You lied to me."
That was the first thought I had and it disturbed me. But it wasn't the last, not by a long shot. There were plenty more where that came from. Too many. It was like information overload. My thoughts were whirling around in my brain, trying to make some sense out this huge mess that I suddenly found myself in.
Doyle. Cordelia's Doyle. That sense of déjà vu the first time we met in the bar… no that wasn't the first time, was it? The first time we met had been in the LA offices so long ago. He'd barely gotten a word out before Cordelia had pulled him away so I could talk to Angel.
Angel.
I hadn't thought about my first lover in a long time.
God, why was this happening? Did fate have it out for me? Did the Powers that Be enjoy watching me suffer? Was this all just some sick joke with my life as the punch line?
Almost as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, he spoke, "Buffy… please." His voice sounded so sad. Like a lost little boy. It still affected me. And that just made me even angrier.
"Why?" I demanded, fixing him with my hardest glare. "Why did you lie to me?"
He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, a defeated look in his eyes. "I don't know, lass."
"No, that's not gonna cut it, Mister! I want a real answer!" I knew that I was about to cry. I hated crying.
"I guess… I just wanted to know you. And you wouldn't have let me near you if you knew who I really was."
"So you thought that lying to me and then sleeping with me was the answer?"
He didn't have a response for that one. Not that I really expected him to.
"Okay, you wanted a little action and figured that, knowing my track record, I'd be an easy lay. And your little plan worked perfectly, didn't it? You got plenty of sex and no commitments to deal with in the morning. So, the question is: Why the hell did you come back? Did you think you could talk me into a repeat performance? Or maybe you were just planning to bring up Angel's name and then swoop in and take advantage of me while I was in a vulnerable state! What's your deal, DOYLE?" I placed extra stress on the name Doyle, making it sound like an insult instead of a name. He flinched back and I was relieved. I wanted to hurt him in any way I could. Because I was afraid that if I didn't keep him distracted, he'd see right through me and know that underneath all my anger, I was aching for him in true, I-belong-in-a-cheesy-romance-novel fashion. "Do you get your jollies by screwing up other people's lives?"
"You know that's not true, lass," he whispered, his voice full of a need so strong that it was almost tangible. It scared me to think that I might need him just as badly.
He reached out and brushed his fingers across my cheek. His feather light touch lingered against my skin and I shivered, my body betraying me by being overpowered by a sense of longing that I did *not* want to feel for him. His thumb slid across my lower lip, causing me to inhale sharply.
"Why are you really here?" I asked, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. I didn't trust myself to say more than that.
Alan - er, Doyle - sighed. And, right then and there, somehow I knew that he was going to tell me the truth. And I knew that I wasn't going to like it one bit. Not that I was particularly thrilled with anything *else* he'd told me tonight, but deep in my gut I knew that this was going to be really bad.
"Did Angel ever tell you about my visions?" he asked abruptly. The question caught me off guard, seeing as it was quite possibly the last thing I'd expected him to say. Well, it seemed that my one-time lover was just full of surprises tonight, wasn't he?
"He mentioned it, yeah."
"Did he ever tell you anything else about my more 'unique' qualities?"
"No, he didn't. Sorry to burst your bubble, but when Angel and I were in LA together that day, you weren't the primary thing on our minds. We were pretty busy riding the Buffy and Angel roller coaster of angst."
I took a step back from him, upset to realize that it didn't seem to make a difference whether he was two feet away or two hundred. He still affected me. Trying to ignore my emotions, I crossed my arms over my chest defensively and waited for him to drop the next bomb.
I didn't have to wait long.
Doyle's face suddenly started to transform before my very eyes. His skin color changed from a healthy peach to a sickly green. Spikes began to push their way through his skin, sprouting all over his face. His eyes turned blood red.
All in all, it looked very painful.
He watched me for a long moment, almost as if he was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. Afraid that any sudden motion would send me screaming out into the night like a lunatic.
But he underestimated me. I'm the Slayer. I don't scare that easily.