Because I couldn't be bothered coming up with my own plot. Or script, apparently. Enjoy, if you can.
"Los Angeles. You see it at night, and it shines. A beacon. People are drawn to it. People – and other things. They come for all sorts of reasons. My reason? No surprise there. It started with a girl."
A handsome, dark haired man was sitting at a bar, talking drunkenly to the stranger sitting next to him.
"She was a really, really pretty girl. No, I mean she... she was a hottie girl. Sh-she had, ah... I mean, her hair, was ah... You know? You kinda remind me of her."
The black, balding stranger Angel is rambling to, gives him a look of complete and utter disbelief. Angel continues, obliviously.
"Cause, you know, the hair. I mean, both of you have hair."
As Angel chuckles, the man picks up his drink and chooses to ignores the intoxicated idiot beside him.
Angel hears a girl laugh, and turns around slowly. He sees a pretty blonde thing, and his thoughts immediately jump to the Slayer. He smiles at the thought.
One of the men who was playing pool with the blonde woman and her friend, walks over to the bar.
"A little cash out," he says to the bartender, as he hands him his credit card.
Angel – with the silliest grin on his face – turns to the man, who was wearing a casual orange, button down shirt.
"Girls are nice," Angel chuckles.
The man slowly looks at Angel, but says nothing.
"Here you go, pal," the bartender says as he hands the man his card and his cash.
"Thanks," he mutters, before hurrying away.
Angel giggled, but the smile slowly falls from his face as he hears the man saying: "Come on guys, let's go. Let's go find some real fun."
The vampire's previously carefree face takes on a stoic expression, and he stands up slowly, only to follow the five into an alley.
"So, you guys really know the doorman? I mean, you can get us into Allegro?" the blonde asked the three men.
"I don't wanna go clubbing anymore," said the first man. "I wanna party right here."
He grabs the blonde around the waist, and pulls her to him. She shoves him away with one arm, as the other clutches at her purse.
"Hey, back off," she said angrily.
"Hey," he began as he grabbed her around the throat. "Shut up and die."
His face morphs into that of a hideous demon, and the blonde girl gasps.
One of the other vampires grabs the blonde's friend, but before either of them could take a bite...
"'Scuse me," Angel walked over, pretending to be plastered. "Excuse me."
He walked towards the group with an arm raised.
"I'm sorry."
One of the vampires growl.
"Has anyone seen my car? It-it's big, and shiny..." he looks around.
"Piss off, pal," says the vampire holding the blonde. Angel turns, and takes a few steps towards him. The demon faces angel, and bares his teeth. Angel raises his eyebrows.
"Breath mint?"
The vampire snarls, and pushes the girl roughly away from him. She falls to the ground, but the collision is cushioned by the pile of trash around her.
The vampire tries to punch Angel, but Angel easily blocks his attackers blow with his right arm, and punches back with his left. The two other vampires lunge at him, but Angel easily fights them off. The two vamps charge at him, and Angel looks between the two, before suddenly raising his arms. Out of the sleeves of his black, leather duster, protrude two wooden stakes. The vampires fall onto the stakes simultaneously, and explode into clouds of dust.
The last remaining vampire hit Angel over the head with a trash can, and the brunette falls to the ground. He quickly raises his head, and the vampire is surprised to see that the face that turned to him, was not all that dissimilar to his own.
"You shouldn't have done that," Angel threatened as he jumped up. The two exchange a few blows, before Angel picks up the demon and flings him into the windshield of a car. The vampire coughs a few times, but doesn't move.
The blonde walks slowly towards Angel.
"Oh my god," she said. "They were..."
"Go home," Angel tells her.
"Thank you," she says, reaching out to touch his arm. Angel jerks away, and turns his face towards her, his demonic visage still in full view. It was hard to get rid of, when a girl standing not two feet away was bleeding heavily. The smell was intoxicating to him.
He couldn't stop staring.
"Get away from me," he ordered her. It was almost as much for his benefit as it was hers.
She took a few hesitant steps back, and Angel turned away. He ripped the leg off a chair, and used it to stake the last remaining vampire.
The vamp turned to dust, and Angel stalked off into the night.
Angel stepped into his apartment. There were half empty boxes everywhere, and the place was a mess.
He jumped into the elevator, and went down.
He began to get comfortable – taking off his duster, as well as the gadgets around his wrists, which had been helpful in the attack that night.
He had just taken off his shirt, when a figure appeared behind him. Angel could smell the intruder, and he wasn't surprised when he turned around to see somebody there.
A man stood, leaning up against the door frame comfortably, fiddling with a pack of cards.
"Well I like the place. Not much with the view, but it's got a nice bat cave sort of an air to it." The man said, as if they were old friends catching up.
"Who are you?" Angel asked the man.
"Doyle," he replied.
Angel looked him up and down.
"You don't smell human," he muttered.
"Well that's a bit rude," Doyle said. "As it happens I'm very much human..."
Suddenly, Doyle sneezed, and blue spikes protruded from all over his face. He shook his head, and they retreated. "On my mother's side," he continued, as though nothing out-of-the-ordinary had just happened. "Well, I come in uninvited, so you know I'm not a vampire like yourself," Doyle said, walking further into the room to look at Angel's weapons.
"What do you want?" the vampire asked.
"I've been sent. By the Powers That Be." Doyle spoke of the Powers as though he didn't really care for them.
"The powers that be what?" Angel replied.
"Let me tell you a little bedtime story," Doyle said, changing the subject.
"But I'm not sleepy," Angel said sarcastically.
"Once upon a time," Doyle continued anyway. "There was a vampire. And he was the meanest vampire in all the land."
Angel thought back to all the murders that he had committed, and clenched his fists at the thought.
"I mean, other vampires were afraid of him, he was such a... bastard. Then one day he's cursed. By gypsies."
Angel remembered that day all too clearly.
"They restore his human soul, and all of a sudden he's mad with guilt. You know, what have I done? Ugh, ugh. He was freaked."
Angel groaned.
"OK," he said. "Now I'm sleepy." Angel sat down on the couch.
"Yeah, well, it's a fairly dull tale," Doyle agreed. "It needs a little sex, is my feeling. So, sure enough, entered a girl."
Buffy...
"Pretty little blonde thing," Doyle wolf whistled. "Vampire Slayer by trade. And our vampire falls madly in love with her. But eventually, the two of 'em, well... they get fleshy with one another. And the moment he... well, I guess the technical term was 'perfect happiness'. But when our boy gets there, he goes mad again! He kills again! It's ugly. So when he gets his soul back for the second time, he figures hey, he can't be anywhere near young miss Poppy ties without endangering them both, so what does he do? He takes off. Goes to LA."
Doyle picks up a sword to emphasize his point.
"To fight evil. And atone for his crimes. He's a shadow. A faceless champion of the hapless human race. Say, you wouldn't have a beer of any kind in here would ya?" Doyle asked, looking around,
Angel silently shook his head.
"No."
"Come on!" Doyle said, slapping the side of Angel's seat. "You must have something here besides pig's blood."
"OK," Angel said, standing up and following Doyle out of the room. "You've told me the story of my life, which because, I was there, I already knew. Why aren't I kicking you out?"
Doyle closed the fridge after looking pitifully down at the jars of blood.
"Because now I'm gonna tell you what happens next. You see, this vampire. He thinks he's helping. Fighting the demons. Staying away from the humans, so's not to be tempted. Doing penance in his little..." Doyle gestures to the apartment around him. "Cell. But he's cut off. From everything. From the people he's trying to help."
Angel scowls at Doyle.
"I still save 'em. Who cares if I don't stop and chat?"
"When was the last time you drank blood?" Doyle asked suddenly.
"Buffy," Angel whispered.
"Left you with a bit of craving, didn't it? Let me tell you something pal, that craving's gonna grow. And someday soon, one of those helpless victims you don't really care about, are gonna look way too appetizing to turn down, and you'll figure 'hey, what's one against all I've saved? Might as well eat them. Still ahead by the numbers."
Doyle paused.
"You know, I'm parched from all this yakking man. Let's go treat me to a Billy Dee?"
Doyle and Angel left the liquor shop, Doyle with a hand wrapped around a bottle.
"You know, it's not all about fighting and gadgets and such. It's about reaching out to people. Showing them that there's still love and hope left in this world."
"Hey," an old beggar woman reached out to Doyle. "Spare change?"
Doyle jerked his arm away. "Get a job, you lazy sow!"
He then turned back to Angel. "You know, it's about letting 'em in your heart. It's not just saving lives, it's saving souls. Hey," Doyle grabbed Angel's arm and stopped him in his tracks. "Possibly your own in the process."
"I wanna know who sent you," Angel said.
"I'm honestly not sure who sent me," Doyle said as he continued walking. "You know, they don't speak to me direct. I get... visions. Which is to say, great, splitting migraines that come with pictures. A name, a face. I don't know who sends them. I just know whoever sends them is more powerful than me or you. And they're just trying to make things right."
"But why me?" Angel asked.
"Well, because you got potential. The ballot sheet ain't exactly in your favor yet..."
"But why you?" Angel asked, stopping, and turning to Doyle.
Doyle turned serious. "Well we all got something to atone for."
They were silent for a moment, but Doyle changed the subject yet again.
"Had a vision this morning." Doyle reached into the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a slip of paper, which he passed to Angel.
"And when the blinding pain stopped, I ah, I wrote this down."
The paper read Tina, Coffee Spot, S.M.
"Tina?" Angel looked to Doyle.
"Nice looking girl. Needs help."
"Help with what?"
"Well, that's your business man, you know. I just take the names." Doyle smacked Angel – in a friendly manner – on the arm.
"I don't get it. How am I supposed to know what she...?"
"You're supposed to get into her life, remember?" Doyle interrupted. "Get involved. Look, high school's over, bud. You've gotta make with the grown up talk now."
Doyle sat himself down on the hood of a parked car.
"Why would a woman I've never met, even talked to me?" Angel asked.
Doyle laughed.
"Have you looked in the mirror lately? Ah, I guess, you really haven't, no."
"I'm not good with people," Angel finally said.
Doyle took a swig of his drink.
"Well, that's the whole point of this little exercise, isn't it? You game?"
Angel sipped his coffee, and looked around awkwardly. He smiled when he saw a small dog, sitting on the ground next to it's owners, wagging it's tail.
"Tina, I've gotta do it by seniority. Everyone wants to work extra hours..."
"I know," a pretty, blonde woman said to an older man. "It's just... I just need... well I'm good for Saturday nights, I mean, if people wanna go out, if... I'll double shift, whatever."
"You're on the list, OK?" the man told her.
"Thanks," she said, even though he had done nothing to help her.
Tina picked up a tub, and walked to an empty table near Angel. As she walked past, he tried to start a conversation with her.
"Sure is a cute little... doggy," he finished awkwardly as she walked straight by, without sparing him a glance.
"So, you ah... how late are you open?" he tried again, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table.
"You talking to... oh." As Tina spun around, she knocked a half empty mug off the table, but before it even hit the ground, Angel had quickly reached out and plucked it out of the air. Not a drop was spilled.
"Wow," she said, impressed. Angel stood up, and handed her the mug. "Good reflexes. Well, thanks, these come out of my paycheck."
"So, ah... Are you, ah..." Angel was struggling to find the right words to say. "Happy?"
"What?" she asked, trying to figure out why a perfect stranger would be asking her such a personal question.
"Well, you look sorta down," he explained.
"You've been watching me?" she stopped cleaning the tables and turned to him.
"No! I-I just, I... I was ah, I was looking towards there, and you walked... throu-through there."
She smiled.
"You don't hit on girls very often, do you?" She resumed cleaning.
He looked down, slightly embarrassed.
"It's been awhile. I'm sorta new in town."
She looked at him. "Do yourself a favor, don't stay."
She began to walk away, and Angel had to say something to stop her.
"You never answered my question," he said.
She paused, and turned back.
"Am I happy? You got three hours?" She was only joking, but Angel answered her seriously.
"Do I look busy?"
She stopped pretending to be cheerful, and she looked at him, trying to see if he was for real or not. He gave her a small smile, and that seemed to impact her decision.
"I get off at ten."
Angel was waiting patiently for Tina by his car. The door opened, and he looked up. Tina had gotten changed into an elegant party dress, and her hair and makeup were both perfect.
She walked towards him.
"I suddenly feel under dressed," Angel remarked casually. "Did you wanna go have a drink or some..." Angel stopped speaking when Tina pulled a can of mace from her bag, and held it at his eyes height.
"I know who you are," she said. "What you're doing here. Stay the hell away from me, and you tell Russell, to leave me alone."
"I don't know anyone named Russell," Angel said slowly.
"You're lying," she replied.
"No I'm not."
"Then why were you in there watching me?"
"Because you looked lonely," he said. "And I figured, that we had something in common."
She lowered the mace, and looked at him apologetically.
"Oh, ah, I'm sorry. I'm really..."
"It's OK," he said.
"No, it's not," Tina said. "I'm sort of having relationship issues."
"Who's Russell?" Angel asked her.
She shook her head, and began to walk away.
"I, ah, I'd like to help," Angel said, scratching the back of his neck.
"The only help I need is a ticket home," she said. "And that wasn't me asking for money."
She pulled on her jacket.
"Where's home?" Angel asked.
"Missoula, Montana," she said. He smiled. "You've been to Missoula?" she asked excitedly.
"I went there during the Depression."
She looked at him curiously, and he attempted to rectify his mistake.
"Ah... my depression. I was depressed there," he explained. "But it's a pretty country."
"Yeah," she agreed. "Lot's of open land. Lot's of nothing else... I came here to be a famous movie star. But they weren't hiring."
They were both silent for a moment, but then she made to leave.
"Well, I have, a fabulous Hollywood party to go to," she said. "Hence the glamor." She bent down and picked up her bag. "The girl giving it owes me my security deposit, so... Well, it was nice threatening you," she said, as a way of saying goodbye.
"You need a lift?" Angel offered.
Angel and Tina entered the room, and a woman was filming them with a video camera. "Tina! Smile for the camera!" Tina smiled awkwardly.
"Oh, who is this hunk of tall, dark and handsome?" the woman filming asked Tina.
"Just a friend," Tina explained. "Um, Margo, I really need to talk to you."
"Oh, grab yourself a drink, I'll be right there."
Tina and Angel made their way to the refreshment table. Tina picked up a small sandwich, which had been cut into the shape of a star.
"Cute," she said. "Everyone's a star."
"Who's Russell?"Angel tried again.
"He's someone I made the mistake of trusting."
The woman Tina was there to talk to returned.
She sighed. "Here I am." She glanced suggestively at Angel.
"This won't take long," Tina said to him.
"Oh, I would not leave that one unattended..." she whispered to Tina.
Angel walked away from the table, and a short man came over to him.
"You are a beautiful, beautiful man," he said to Angel, who wasn't sure exactly what to say in reply.
"Thanks," Angel said.
"You're an actor." The man reached into the pocket of his suit.
"No," Angel said.
"That wasn't a question," the man said. "I'm Oliver. Ask anyone about Oliver, they'll tell you I'm a fierce animal. I'm your manager, as soon as you call." He handed Angel his card.
"Not an actor," Angel mentioned again.
"Funny," Oliver said. "I like the humor. Like the whole thing. Call me. This isn't a come on. I'm in a very serious relationship with a landscape architect."
Oliver walked away, leaving Angel standing awkwardly, frowning down at the card.
He began to circle the room again, when he heard a familiar voice.
"And you know, they asked me to come in and read, a third time. I'm an actress! I don't put up with things like that!"
"Cordelia?" Angel asked. She spun around.
"Oh my god. Angel?"
"Nice to see a familiar face," he said.
"I didn't know you were in LA. Are you living here?" she asked.
"Yeah," he replied. "You?"
"Malibu. A small condo on the beach. It's not a private beach, but you know, I'm young, so I forebear."
"And you're acting?"
"Can you believe it?" she gasped. "I mean, I just started it as a way to make some quick cash and then boom, it was like, my life."
He smiled encouragingly.
"So, um, are you still... grr?" She made an attacking motion with her hands.
"Yeah," he replied. "There's not actually a cure for that."
"Right," she said sadly. "But you're not... evil? I mean you're not here to, you know, bite people?"
"No, I-I just gave a friend a ride."
"Oh good!" she laughed. "Well, I better get mingly. I really should be talking to people that are somebody."
He nodded slowly.
"But it was fun!" She walked away, and Angel watched her disappear into the crowd.
"It's nice that she's grown as a person," he muttered, as he too turned away.
Margo looked apologetically at Tina, before walking away. Tina was downtrodden, and made to leave, when a man stepped up to her.
Angel watched on curiously as the man spoke to her, and then tried to grab her. Tina pulled her arm away, and walked off, looking around nervously to make sure no one had seen the event.
She spotted Angel and walked to him, acting as if nothing had happened.
"Of course, she doesn't have the money yet," she said. Tina was smiling, but Angel's face was grim.
"Who was that?" He jerked his head in the direction of her antagonizer.
She turned and looked at the man, who was speaking quietly into his phone.
"Stacy. He's just a creep... Can we please go?"
"Yeah," Angel said quietly.
Stacey watched them leave.
The pair exited the elevator, but the moment they did, three men attacked them. Two dragged Angel back into the elevator, and one grabbed Tina. The elevator doors closed, and Stacy emerged from the other.
He held up a hand, and spoke in a soothing voice.
"It's OK, it's OK. He just wants to see you. That's all. OK?"
"OK," Tina said, struggling to get out of her attackers grip. "OK, no problem."
The man let her go, and Stacy pointed to the car. She pretended to cooperate for a moment, but within a second she was running. The two men sprinted after her, and quickly imprisoned her again. She screamed.
"Stop. Stop! No!"
The car began to drive off the moment Angel got out of the elevator. The slumped bodies of his assailants were left behind.
Angel, quickly realizing what had happened, ran to his car, and jumped in. He shoved the key into the ignition and turned it, but the car wouldn't start. He glanced up for a moment, and quickly turned back when he saw that that the car he was in was the exact same as the next one over.
"Dammit!" he cried out as he jumped up
Angel sped after Tina's kidnappers. They tried to get away, but Angel forced them to swerve to the side. Their car crashed into a parked vehicle. The man who had first grabbed Tina got out of the driver's seat, and pulled a gun on Angel. Angel slammed the door into the man's groin. Then Angel punched him across the jaw and grabbed the gun, all in one, smooth motion.
Angel held the gun up to Stacy, who raised his hands.
"I don't know who you are," Stacy said. "But you don't wanna get involved here, trust me."
"Tina, get in the car," he said.
Tina ran to Angel's car.
"You know what?" Stacy asked. "I don't think you're gonna pull that trigger."
Angel swiftly punched Stacy in the face, and threw the gun onto the ground, where Stacy had fallen back..
"Good call," he said, before turning around.
Stacy struggled to get up.
"Nice party, huh?" Tina said as Angel sat down.
"A little too fabulous for me," he said as he reversed.
Cordelia hung the red dress she had worn at the party into an almost empty closet, as she listened to her phone.
"You have one new message. 'Cordy! It's Joe, at the agency. No luck, again. We're having trouble booking auditions. The networks are saying they've seen enough of you. You know, no need to call. I'll buzz ya if the situation changes. Bye.' You have no more messages."
Cordelia gingerly unwrapped a star sandwich from the party, and sat sadly onto her threadbare couch. She took a bite unhappily.
The kettle boiled, and Angel picked it up.
Tina walked out of the bathroom, dressed in comfortable pants and a long sleeved white shirt. "My girl scout training," she explained. "I can live out of this bag for days if I have to."
"I made some tea," Angel said as he poured it into two cups.
"Thanks."
"Do you take milk and sugar?" Angel asked her.
"Yeah," she replied.
"Cause, I don't have those things," Angel said uncomfortably.
Tina smiled.
"I don't get a lot of visitors," he justified.
"At least not ones you like," Tina said, referring to the battle axes and the other weapons hung up on the walls.
"I have relationship issues too," he said.
He silently handed her a cup.
She smiled sadly. "I guess this is the part where you comfort me? Not like you didn't earn it."
Angel shook his head.
"No. This is the part where you have a safe place to stay while we figure things out," he replied as he placed his cup down.
"You mean you don't want..."
"You have enough people taking advantage right now," Angel told her.
She half laughed, half cried. "Boy are you ever in the wrong town."
She started to sob, and sat down on the bed. Angel handed her a tea towel.
"Thanks," she muttered. Angel sat next to her as she dabbed at her eyes.
"Did Russell have a last name?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said. "But you don't need to know it. You've done enough already. This is LA. Guys like him get away with murder."
"Who'd he murder?"
"I don't know. Maybe nobody." She paused and looked away. "He likes... he likes pain. I mean he really does. He talks about it like it's a friend of his. And you don't leave him. He tells you when he's had enough. I knew this girl. Denise. She tried to get away. She disappeared off the face of the earth." Tears filled Tina's eyes, and she sniffed.
"He finds you," she whispered.
"Not anymore," Angel assured her.
Tina had fallen asleep, and Angel gingerly placed a blanket over her. He looked down at her bag, and saw an address book peeking out. He reached over and picked it up.
He flicked through, and stopped at a page with Denise Perkins written on it. There were three numbers on the page, all of them had been crossed out.
Angel sat at a computer in the public library. It had long since closed, but that didn't stop him. He was working on three separate machines.
He found a picture of Denise. She was a showgirl, with a tattoo of a rose on her left shoulder. She had many different stage names.
He also looked up newspaper articles about any Doe Jane's with the same tattoo. He found one.
By the time he had finished, the sun was up, so Angel had to make his way back via sewer. As he was walking, he heard Tina murmur; "No, no," and he raced up the ladder and into his apartment. Having direct access to the sewers was the only thing he had looked for while searching for a place to stay.
He was relieved to see that Tina was safe, and that it was only a nightmare, but he worried for her all the same. He went to her side to wake her up, and she lashed out. When she awoke, and realized it was Angel, and that she was safe, she latched onto him tightly and sobbed loudly.
"It's alright," he comforted her. "It's alright."
"He was here," she said.
After a moment, she was still breathing heavily, but loosened her grip on Angel. He bent down, and looked her in the eye.
"Did your friend Denise have a tattoo on her left shoulder?"
Tina pushed her hair out of her face. "She had a rose."
"Alright. I think she was murdered."
What? she mouthed.
"And there have been others. He picks girls with no family, no one to care."
Tina looked away slowly, frightened. Her eyes widened, and she drew back a little.
"OK, you don't have to be afraid. You're safe here."
"Why do you have that?" she asked, and pointed at the piece of paper Doyle had given to Angel. The one with her name on it.
Angel looked away.
"You knew who I was when you walked in there last night?" she accused, not wanting to believe it.
"No, I didn't I..." Tina pulled away from him, and began gathering her things. "Look I just... I-I had your name. It's complicated..."
"Yeah. I'm sure. Big, complicated game that Russell is playing with my head. What's he paying you?"
Angel held up a hand, trying to tell her that he wasn't going to hurt her. Not that she would believe it.
"He's not. You have to..."
"You're just like him," Tina said.
Angel's expression was desperate.
"You stay away from me!" she yelled as she ran up the stairs. Angel hurried after her. She ran off, and Angel reached out and grabbed her forearm.
"Just wait, please. Listen," he tried, and she pulled away, but only succeeded in dragging Angel's arm into the sun. It burst into flames, and as he pulled back, his face morphed into his demon side.
The look on her face was one of pure terror. He tried to walk towards her, but she ran off. Angel sank back into the shadows.
Tina opened the door to her apartment, and pulled out a suitcase. She opened a drawer, and started throwing clothes into it. She opened another drawer, and pulled a few things out. One of those things was a gun, which she picked up and spun around with, pointing it into the face of a man.
"Russell," she whispered.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said in a calm voice. It was as if the gun pointed at his head didn't faze him in the slightest. "And here you are, right under my nose. Well, I own the building," he explained. "Most of the block."
He smiled at her.
"Are you gonna point that gun at me all day?"
Tina's hand shook, but she kept her arms raised high.
"What did you do to Denise?" she asked.
Russell looked innocent. "Nothing."
"I want the truth Russell," Tina said.
"She wanted to go home, I bought her a ticket to Pensacola," he explained.
Tina's eyes watered, and she shook her head sadly.
"She's dead."
"What do you mean? She called me yesterday," Russell said as he took a few steps closer. "She's thinking about going back to school, she wanted me to pull a few strings."
Tina's mouth opened and closed a few times.
"Look, we both know I live... outside the box, but I don't go around killing my friends."
Russell was now standing right in front of her.
"If you're sick of LA," he said. "If you need rent." Russell slowly wrapped his fingers around the barrel of the gun. "You know I only wanna help you."
Tears trickled down Tina's face, and she looked down. Russell tenderly lifted her chin up. "Just tell me what you want."
"I wanna go home," she said.
"Done," he smiled.
She started to tear up even more.
"Poor thing," he whispered. "Who's been spinning your head like this?"
"I don't know, I thought you hired him. He turned into something. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen."
"Well," Russell began, just before his face shed his human mask. "You're young."
Then he latched onto her neck.
Angel ran up the stairs, and entered Tina's apartment. He knew immediately what had happened. Vampires can only enter someone's house if either they're invited, or the owner is dead.
His eyes opened widely at the sight of Tina's pale corpse. He ran to her, and grabbed her shoulders. He felt at the bite mark, searching for a pulse, but found nothing. He pulled away slowly, and stared at the blood on his fingers.
The coroners arrived at the scene shortly after, as well as the police. Angel watched the scene from the rooftop of the building across the street. He turned, and jumped off the edge.
"The guy who tried to take her at the party was called Stacy," Angel said to Doyle as the exited the elevator.
"First name or last?"
"I dunno. Professional muscle – probably done some time," Angel added.
"I can ask around," Doyle said.
"Great. Start with the car. Gray '87 Mercedes 300E, gonna need some serious work on the bumper. Call chop shops." Angel said, slamming a few address books down on the table in front of Doyle.
"I know a couple that ain't in the book too," Doyle said.
"This guy driving the car, leads me to Stacy. Stacy leads me to Russell."
Doyle looked pityingly at Angel.
"You couldn't have known she was gonna run out on you like that."
"Forget it. Let's get to work," Angel said.
"You can't cut yourself off," Doyle protested.
"I will," Angel said. "I don't wanna share my feelings. I don't wanna open up. I wanna find the guy that killed Tina, and I wanna look him in the eye."
Doyle nodded. "Then what?"
"Then I'm gonna share my feelings," Angel smirked.
"Mr. Winters, the Dethrone murders a go. They caved on everything after you... negotiated, with their CFO. We'll bring the papers by your office tomorrow," a man holding a briefcase – a lawyer – said to Russell.
Russell sat, not looking at the man, but rather watching the screen before him. It was the video that Margo took of the party.
Tina came onto the screen.
"She had something, didn't she?" Russell said to the lawyer. "I was sorry to kill her so soon."
"Actually," said the lawyer as he popped open his briefcase. "You haven't seen her in several weeks. You were in a conference yesterday with your contract lawyers when the unfortunate incident occurred," the lawyer read off a slip of paper he had taken from the case. "We've located a witness saying he saw a dark, complected man with blood on his hands fleeing the scene."
"Impressive," Russell complimented.
"Wolfram and Hart is a full service law firm, Mr. Winters," the lawyer said as he returned the paper. "It's our job to make sure that our clients lives run more smoothly."
Russell paused the video.
"Who's this?" he asked with a smile, as he stared at an image of Cordelia. He stood up and walked towards the screen. "A fresh face. I think we should meet."
"Should I alert the firm that this young lady may constitute another... long term investment?"
"I don't think so," replied Russell. "Just want something to eat."
Angel smashed through the window of Stacy's Gym Supplies, and grabbed Stacy by the collar. He smashed him against the counter.
"Where does he live? How much security does he have?" Angel asked Stacy.
"Whatever she was to you, you'd better forget it. You have no idea who you're dealing with here," Stacy said.
"Russell?. Let me guess. Not big on the daylight or the mirrors, and drinks a lot of V8?"
"You get in his way, he'll kill you," Stacy warned. "He'll kill everyone you care about."
"There's nobody left I care about," Angel replied darkly.
"I am somebody," Cordelia chanted. "I matter. People will be attracted to my positive energy and help me achieve my goals." She was sitting in a traditional meditation pose with her eyes shut. "I am right where I'm supposed to be, and not dying for something to eat!" She collapsed forward, and suddenly the phone rang.
Cordy jumped up and raced to the phone.
"Hello? Cordelia Chase," she spoke into it.
"Cor? It's Margo. You were such a hit at my party." Margo told her.
Cordelia's mouth gaped.
"Oh thanks!" she chuckled nervously.
"Well, guess who saw my videotape of the party? And guess who wants to meet you?"
"A director? A manager? An assistant to an assistant who wants to spring for lunch?" Cordelia asked desperately.
"Russell. Winters." Margo replied.
"The investment guy?" Cordelia asked, confused.
"Mm, oh, Cordelia. He is a lot more than that. He helps people get started in their careers. He knows everyone, and he wants to meet you. Tonight."
"Tonight?"
"He'll send a limo for you at eight."
Angel packed a sword into his bag, and then walked past Doyle.
"Wow, you're really going to war here," Doyle noted. "Guess you've seen a few in your time yeah?"
"Fourteen," Angel answered, distractedly. "Not including Vietnam. I never declared it."
Cordelia sat in the limo, dressed up nicely, and smiling as brightly as was possible.
"People will be attracted to my positive energy and help me achieve my goals," she spoke disbelievingly. "Oh yeah."
The gates clanked loudly shut behind the vehicle.
"Well listen, best of luck to you man," Doyle said to Angel, as he patted him on the arm. "I've got some fairly large coin betting on the Vikings, but I'll be there with you in spirit yeah?"
"You're driving," Angel told him.
"What, ah, ah, wait a minute!" Doyle protested. "Nah, no, no. I'm not combat ready man. I'm just the messenger."
"And I'm the message," Angel said as he threw a bag at Doyle. Doyle slipped on his hat before grudgingly hurrying after.
Cordelia followed the butler through the Winter's mansion, and couldn't help but be impressed, also kind of intimidated.
"I'm Russell," he said, standing up as she entered the room. "Thank you so much for coming. Oh, that'll be all Franklin," he said to the butler. "We'd like to be alone."
"Wow. What a nice place," Cordelia complimented. "I love your curtains. Not afraid to emphasize the curtains."
"I have old fashioned tastes," Russell informed her.
"I grew up in a nice home," Cordelia said. "It wasn't like this, but we did have a room or two that we didn't even know what they were for."
Cordelia wandered over to the other side of the room. "Till the IRS got all huffy about my folks not paying their taxes for, well, ever. They, took it all."
"Margo tells me you're an actress," Russell said. "It's going well?"
"Oh," Cordelia began as she sat down. "Yeah, it's great! I've had a lot of opportunities. The hands in the liquid gel commercial were almost mine, by like, one or two girls. And well..." It was then that she ran out of positive things to say. The smile dropped from her face. "It's not everything I..."
She sighed.
Doyle pulled the car up outside the gate to Russell's estate, and Angel jumped out.
"How you doing?" he called out to the security guard. Angel was wearing a brown suede jacket over a Hawaiian shirt.
He chuckled.
"I think we're lost, ah. We're looking for ah, Roscoemir? Hey, what are you watching there," Angel ranted as he sneakily stepped close to the security box. "Is that the game? The Vikings on?" That was when the security guard got knocked unconscious. Angel ripped out the security camera, and returned to the car. The first thing he did was to lose the shirt.
"Tie him up," Angel told Doyle. "I'm out in ten minutes or I'm not coming out."
Angel grabbed his bag, and ran off. He jumped over the wall, and crept on.
"I've tried really hard, you know?" Cordelia said. "Usually when I set out to do something I succeed at it, right away. But I um, I don't know anybody, and... I don't really have any friends here."
"Now you know me," Russell consoled her. "And you don't have to worry anymore."
She looked at him with disbelieving eyes, but that then turned to trust.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked him.
"Just tell me what you want," he said.
She looked down for a moment, and when she looked up, she seemed to have recovered from her moment of self pity.
"Oh god. I'm sorry, I'm getting all weepy in front of you. I probably look really scary." Cordelia stood up to look in a mirror, so she could see how badly her mascara was running.
"You finally get invited to a nice place with no mirrors and... lots of curtains. Hey, you're a vampire!" she accused.
"No I'm not," he denied.
"Are too."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm from Sunnydale. We had our own Hellmouth. I think I'd know a vampire when I... am... alone with him, in his fortress like home, and you know, I think I'm just feeling a little light headed from hunger. I'm just whacky, and kidding!" Cordelia continued to step backwards, but for every step she took, Russell stepped as well.
She giggled nervously.
Angel disabled the security system.
"Truth is, I'm glad you know. It means we can skip the formalities." His face morphed.
Angel used a hook to pull himself onto the balcony.
Doyle sat in the car, fidgeting nervously.
Cordelia ran up the stair case, and Russell walked behind; he didn't have to run. He had all the time in the world.
At the top of the stair's Russell grabbed hold of Cordelia, but as he was about to bite, an explosion went off outside, and the electricity was cut.
"Russell Winters," a voice came from the darkness.
"Angel?" Cordelia asked hopefully.
"I have a message," he said, as he walked towards the other vampire. "From Tina."
"You made a very big mistake coming here," Russell threatened.
"You don't know who he is, do you?" Cordelia grinned. "Oh boy, you're about to get you're ass kicked," she said smugly.
Angel charged at Russell, and they blocked each other's blows for a time, but Angel finally got in a good punch. When Angel went to roundhouse kick Russell in the face, Russell ducked.
They grabbed hold of each other and wrestled, each trying to get the upper hand, when Angel head butted Russell, and Russell stumbled backwards.
Angel lunged at him, but Russell punched him instead. Angel fell to the ground, but when he saw a group of men with guns come running up the stairs, he jumped up, and tripped Russell in the process.
The men began shooting, and Angel was hit by a few bullets. Repressing the pain, he picked up Cordelia and jumped off the ledge.
"Angel!" Cordelia screamed.
They reached the ground without any real injuries, and hurried to the door.
Doyle heard the gun shots.
"That's it," he said as he started the engine. He reversed onto the road, and began to drive off. After ten metres or so, he yelled, "Dammit!" and guiltily turned the car around. He slammed down the accelerator and roared as he drove the car into the gate, planning on smashing it open.
It barely even moved.
"It's a good gate," he noted.
Doyle was at the front of the car, trying to stop it from smoking, when Cordelia and Angel emerged from the darkness.
"You know, I had a bit of an accident, but..." A gunshot interrupted Doyle's excuse. "We'll talk later," he said.
Angel collapsed into the back seat, Cordelia in the passenger, and Doyle drove.
Back at Angel's apartment, Cordelia paced nervously as Doyle pulled out the bullets that were stuck in Angel's flesh.
"Got it!" Doyle announced.
"Finally," Cordelia said relieved. "Thought I was gonna faint while barfing."
Angel rolled his eyes.
Cordelia placed a bandage over the hole.
"OK, so it's over right? We're gonna be OK. You put the fear of god in that Russell guy," she assured them both. "He's not gonna come looking for me... right?"
The three of them looked at each other nervously.
"The Eltron mutual trust bond is ready for your signature," said the same lawyer that had spoken to Russell previously. "As to the intruder that broke into your home last night, local authorities have no information on him. However, we do have several top private investigators that..."
He was cut off as Angel dramatically entered the room.
"Are looking into his whereabouts," he continued.
"I believe we've located him," Russell said, smiling up at Angel.
The lawyer stood up, and introduced himself to Angel.
"I'm with Wolfram and Hart." He handed Angel his business card. "Mr. Winters has never been accused, and shall never be convicted of any crime. Ever. Should you continue to harass our client, then, we'll be forced to bring you into the light of day."
Angel walked past the lawyer.
"A place I'm told, is not all that healthy for ya."
"Angel," Russell greeted him. "We do things a certain way in LA."
"Well, I'm new here."
"But you're a civilized man, we don't have to go around attacking each other. Look at me. I pay my taxes. I keep my name out of the paper, and I don't make waves. And in return, I can do anything I want."
Angel smiled.
"Really?"
Russell nodded.
Angel took a few steps towards Russell, and placed his right foot on Russell's swivel chair. Angel leaned forward, and looked Russell dead in the eye.
"Can you fly?"
The man was confused for a moment, but when Angel kicked Russell's chair away from him, it all made sense. Russell screamed as his body met daylight, and as he fell, his body caught on fire. All that hit the ground was the chair.
When the screaming stopped, Angel smiled.
He turned to leave the room, but before he did, he slipped the business card back into the lawyer's pocket.
"Guess not," Angel muttered on his way out.
The lawyer grabbed out his phone.
"Set up an inter office meeting at four o'clock. Seems we have a new player in town. No, no. There's no need to disturb the Senior Partners with this."
He looked towards the smashed window.
"Not yet."
Angel sat alone in a dark room. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. The phone rang a few times, but when a voice answered with, "Hello?", Angel hung up. He couldn't stand the thought of speaking to Buffy. He just needed to hear her voice.
Doyle entered the room.
"What happened to Russell?" he asked.
"He went into the light," Angel answered.
"Yet you don't seem to be in a celebrating mood," Doyle noted.
"I killed a vampire," he said. "It didn't help anyone."
"You sure about that?" Doyle asked. "Cause there's a girl upstairs who's as happy as can be..."
Cordelia's scream pierced the air, and they rushed upstairs.
The two of them burst into the room, only to see Cordelia standing in the room alone, holding up a feather duster.
"Ah, oh. Over there," she pointed. "A cockroach. In the corner. I'd say it's a Bantamweight."
Angel looked at her incredulously.
"OK, first thing, we need to call an exterminator. And a sign painter. We should have a name on the door."
"OK," Angel said. "I'm confused."
"Well, Doyle filled me in on your little mission, so I was just saying that if we're going to be helping people out, maybe a small charge. A fee. You know, something to help pay the rent. And, my salary. You need someone to organize things, and you're not exactly rolling in it Mr. I've-been-alive-for-two-hundred-years-and-never-developed-an-investment-portfolio."
Angel raised an eyebrow.
"You wanna charge people?" he asked
"Well not everybody. But sooner or later, we are going to have to help some rich people. Right? Right?" She turned to Doyle.
"Possibly, yeah," Doyle said to Angel.
Angel looked between the two.
"Hand me that box," Cordelia said to Angel. "So I figured we should charge on a case by case analysis, but with me working for a flat fee."
Up until this moment, Cordelia had been speaking as if this was what was going to happen. She hadn't given Angel a choice, she had simply forced herself onto him.
"I mean, um... that is, if you think you can use me?" she asked. The desperation in her voice was what did it. Angel just couldn't turn away someone that was helpless, and though Cordelia talked big, she really was just struggling to make it in the world.
Angel thought about it for a moment, before handing her the box and smiling. She smiled back at him gratefully.
"Of course," she began as she took the box from him. "This is just temporary. Until my inevitable stardom takes effect."
Cordelia walked out of the room.
"Well you made a good choice," Doyle said to Angel. "She'll provide a connection to the world. She's got a very... humanizing influence."
Angel smiled.
"You think she's a hottie," he said to Doyle.
Ah yeah," agreed Doyle. "She's a stiffener alright, I can't lie about that. But you know, she could use a hand. You know there's a lot of people in this city need helping."
Angel faced the wall.
"So I noticed."
"You game?" Doyle asked, and Angel glanced at him.
"I'm game."