TITLE: The Real Angel
AUTHOR: Musketau2002
SUMMARY: Angel practices being mysterious. It doesn't end well.
TIMING: Set after Angel comes back from Hell. Faith didn't kill Finch, hearing Buffy's warning in time and stopping herself. The group knows the Mayor is the big bad.
RATING: M15+
WARNING: Character Death
FEEDBACK: Oh please.
AUTHORS NOTE: I promised Rob Clark I would make up for not letting Xander see Angels bright Orange Mohawk in Who Is He? This is it. Hope you like it.
Like a piece of the night made solid, a dark mass moves lithely through the stygian darkness that surrounds him, a part of the song of the night, waiting for the abrupt change in tempo, the fluttering patter of panic drawing it like a moth to a flame.
But this is no moth. Instead it is a hunter, hiding in plain sight, waiting for his prey to get within range of a quick, decisive strike before returning to the night that spawned him.
He is the night. The predator of predators, the silent protector. He is Angel.
Angel put down his pen and looked over what he had written. 'Damn I'm good' he thought to himself.
The self-styled 'predator of predators' moved his pen and notebook to the side and moved onto a much more important task, making his hair perfect.
40 minutes later, Angel finally decided it was as perfect as possible (it had only taken 1 container of gel), and tried to decide what to do next. This took a while, as he'd never been a quick thinker.
Finally, having discarded brooding and cryptic comments, Angel decided to practice appearing behind people suddenly and disappearing, using a chair as his target. Positioning the leather chair in front of the fireplace, Angel walked out of the room, planning on practicing cool walking on the way in.
'Moving silently on wings of darkness, he slipped unseen, unnoticed, into the lair of his enemy. Ghosting towards his target, the shadowy figure drew himself up to his full height, and….
At this point, Angels thoughts took a dive, as did he. Walking into the room, Angel was so focussed on the defenceless chair he was stalking that he missed the malicious corner of the rug, which jumped out and tripped him as he walked past. Falling forward, the king of brood reached out his right hand to steady himself against his chair. Unfortunately, months of having Angels gel-soaked head resting against it had made it slipperier than a greased pig. Angels hand slipped off the chair and it made contact and he kept moving forward.
Trying to regain his balance, Angel moved his right foot forward, intending to stop his forward momentum. Unfortunately, his foot caught on the leg of the chair, sending him even further off-balance. Totally out-of control, the vampire looked up just in time to meet the brick front of the fireplace with his face, knocking his head back but stopping most of his forward movement. Dizzy, Angel spins around and falls down, the back of his head striking the grate in front of the fire.
At this point, Angel learnt the disadvantage of using a gel which is flammable as his magnificent poofy hair gave a rousing rendition of a bushfire.
A little disoriented, Angel reached up to ensure his best feature, his hair, was okay. It took him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Bringing his hand down from his hair, Angel couldn't understand why his hand was flickering with yellowy-orange light.
At this point, anyone walking near the dark mansion would have heard a heart-rending, tortured scream "NOOOOOOO!! NOT THE HAIR"
Inside the mansion, pandemonium reigned supreme, and it was all caused by one man. Angel could be tortured within an inch of his unlife, have his eyeballs used as golfballs and his groin as a scratching post without breaking. But his hair was different. Threatening to cut his hair into a bowl cut had saved more than one stylist during Angelus' time as the scourge of Europe, and to this day he was terrified of waking up with a mullet, or worse a mohawk.
So it should be no surprise that Angel was not happy about the current state of affairs. Running through the house, Angel desperately tried to put out his precious hair with his hands, only to have both his hands catch on fire as the gel got on his hands.
Gone was the suave warrior. In his place was a terrified schoolgirl with a bug in her hair. Angel caromed through the mansion, bouncing off walls, spinning through doorways and crashing through anything in his path. All that mattered was putting himself out. Thankfully the gel burnt at a low temperature, so it would take a while to dust the flammable Angel.
Finally, after finding out he couldn't put it out with a blanket over his head (the blanket caught fire and now lay smouldering on the floor), Angel saw his salvation, the small sink beside the toilet. Flailing his arms wildly, Angel ran towards the sink and proceeded to try and shove his head under the tap.
THUNG!
Unfortunately for Angel, the gap between the sink and tap was too small for his head, but he didn't give up. Rational thought having left him, the vampire proceeded to ram his head against the gap, trying to force his head under the tap.
CLANG!!
CLING!!
To anyone watching, it looked like a flaming scarecrow was attempting to push itself into the tap
BANG!!
THUNK!!!
UGH!
Finally Angel gave up, although it may have had more to do with the bruises all over his face from ramming it into the sink. By this time, the sink seemed to be on fire itself as the flaming gel spread itself over the porcelain.
Falling backwards, Angel tripped over the toilet and fell over, almost impaling himself in a delicate area on the upright toilet brush as he landed. His left hand landed in the bowl, and Angel looked stupefied at the fire-free hand. Salvation was at hand.
With a cry that would have sounded more fitting to a wounded boar, the fiery figure launched himself face-first at the toilet. Not bothering with putting out his right hand, Angel shoved his head into the bowl.
Poor Angel. His shoulders were too big to allow his hair to reach the water. Scrabbling at the ivory tower above him, Angel finally located the button and pressed.
The great Angel was flushing himself. Even worse, as he realised many hours later as he took off his shirt, the blue colouring in the toilet had stained his face blue. He looked like a Smurf.
Eventually, after 2 more flushes, the blue avenger pulled his head out of the toilet and moved his hands tentatively up to feel the damage. Unfortunately, Angel still hadn't put out his right hand (you'd think he would have felt it), and as soon as it touched his still gel-inundated hair, it caught fire again.
Two minutes later, after another flushing, Angel staggered weakly out of the small bathroom and walked towards the loungeroom. Not noticing the carnage around him caused by his original mad minute charge, he ran his hands over his poor hair. Vampire healing, added to the fact the flame burned at a low temperature, meant his hands were healing nicely, despite their blue colour. Running his hands gingerly over the stiff, burnt hair, Angel nearly cried. It was gone, his marvellous, immaculate hair was gone.
Over most of his head, Angel had patches of burnt, frizzled hair. Some parts were bald, letting the blue stain show through, although he didn't know that yet. Even worse, he discovered, the fire had removed his left eyebrow, as well as the outer half of his right.
Angel was mourning his hair so much that he didn't notice the obstacle course the hall ahead of him had become as a result of his panicked, pinball-like passage towards the bathroom. Weapons lay strewn across the hall and front room. A rake that used to stay behind the front door lay waiting. The garbage bin, full of the empty skins of drained blood-bags, had been knocked over and was spread across the floor. And the cabinets on either side were askew, knocked around as they were by the passage of Hurricane Angel.
Angel managed two whole steps before reaching the first obstacle, a pile of weapons which had fallen onto the floor. Stepping forward while looking up as if he could see his hair, Angel stepped onto a stake which rolled out from under him. Feeling his balance going, Angel reached out to either side, only just managing to grab hold of a doorway and stopping his passage to the floor once again. Taking the next step, however, allowed him to catch his lower shin on the outflung handle of an axe, bringing the ensouled hero to the ground with a mighty crash. Angel landed in a pile of weapons, only just managing to stop himself getting cut. Turning onto his back, Angel looks up just in time to see a mace fall off the cabinet next to him and land directly on his groin.
Cross-eyed, Angel tries to curl himself into a ball, deciding that staying here was probably the best choice, at least until he felt he could stand up without hurting himself again. To his dismay, when Angel curled up, protecting his injured 'assets', he became caught up in the shaft of a pike which was half lodged behind the weapons cabinet next to him. The movement of the pike overbalanced the already shifting cabinet, causing it to fall towards the huddled vampire. Opening his eyes, Angels only thought was 'Oh no'.
CRUNCH
Thankfully for Angel, the weapons cabinet was too tall to land on him directly. As he looked up, Angel saw the cabinet wedge itself against the opposite wall and, for a second, thought himself lucky. That thought disappeared a fraction of a second later as the contents of the cabinet slid off the shelves and rained down on him.
Most of the things in the cabinet weren't so bad. There were a few stakes, but they didn't have any force behind them so they just bounced off him. One dagger nicked his arm. But the biggest problems were the bottle of holy water and the crosses. Seeing the bottle fall at him, Angel reached up, caught it, and threw it away from him down the hall, where it landed and shattered just behind the fallen bin. The crosses, however, were another story.
Although a vampire, Angel had a number of crosses he'd collected over the years, which he displayed in the weapons cabinet to keep other vampires away. Today they came back to haunt him, falling like a silver and gold rain over his body. An acid rain as every time a cross struck him, smoke curled up. Angel got most of the crosses off him as soon as possible, crawling out from under the cabinet before anything more fell on him.
Standing up, Angel discovered he hadn't got all the crosses as one slid down from where it had rested on his collar straight down his shirt. Angel started hopping up and down, wrenching at his shirt in a desperate attempt to remove the cross from where it was burning his skin. Angel leant forward and tried to shake the cross out but it didn't work. As soon as he stood upright the cross, now at his belt line, was pressed against his stomach. Angel wasn't expecting the cross to burn so low and so he jumped a little, and landed on the end of the rake.
Quick as a striking snake, the handle of the rake shot up from the ground to attack the poor fool stupid enough to step on it. Angel was so distracted he didn't see it until the wooden handle came into perfect contact with his head, producing a hollow CLONK noise as it hit the raised ridges on his forehead.
Dazed, Angel stepped backwards, straight onto one of the empty bloodbag skins. Once again, Angel found himself leaving the ground as his feet went from under him. Like slipping on a banana peel in a slapstick routine, Angel was once again flying through the air, falling backwards over the bin.
WHUMP
Angel landed hard just behind the bin.
SNAP
Angels left hand, flung out to the side, landed in a rat trap, which snapped onto his fingers
SSSSSSSSSSSS
Angels back, which had landed in the puddle of holy water left from the broken bottle, started to burn.
Angel decided the floor was a bad place to be, as he seemed to levitate 3 feet straight up, in the horizontal position, before finally getting his feet under him and resuming dancing around the room like a headless chicken. This time, however, he had a few things to occupy his thoughts. First was the burn on his back. Second, the rat-trap still on his left hand. And finally, the cross in his shirt, which had made its way South and had just slid into his pants.
This final thought pushed all the others aside in a rush of panic. After all that had happened today, this was the worst pain he had experienced (although the thought of losing his hair came close). Ripping the rat-trap off his hand, Angel forgot about the pain in his back (and face, and hands, and everywhere else), in his fevered actions to remove the cross from where it was lodged next to his pride and joy.
Literally ripping his belt off, Angel tried to push his burnt hands into his tight leather pants to remove the holy icon, but the leather was too tight. Ripping off the button and destroying the zipper, Angel yanked at the leather, for once despairing of his choice of clothing. Tight leather may look good, especially if you don't have to breathe, but getting it off is a problem, especially when you are in a hurry.
Finally the pants were down exposing his shameful secrets to the world. The great Angel padded his pants. A pair of socks rolled to the floor and seemed to look accusingly at him. Someone with good eyesight could see the wisp of smoke rising into the air from his other secret. Angel was trying to remove the burning cross from a pair of pink boxers. They may be silk, but pale pink boxers with pictures of little fluffy sheep on them were not a good look for a man trying to be a dark avenger.
Angel finally managed to locate and remove his burning passenger. With blistering fingers, he flung the silver cross away and curled into a ball, his pants still around his knees, his head and hands dyed blue and his hair reduced to burned, twisted fragments.
As Angel lay on the floor, rocking slightly and occasionally whimpering, his only consolation was that nobody had seen this descent into madness. No one would know that the great Angel had managed to do this to himself, his fiery descent into the role of the clown who always gets hit by the pie.
High above, hidden the shadows of the rafters which Angel thought made the house fit his brooding image, something glittered as it watched.
THE NEXT AFTERNOON
Despite his misgivings, Angel had left his mansion and gone to the library. He hadn't planned on leaving the mansion until his hair had grown back, and his head and hands lost the blue colour, but he had been called in to help deal with a 'Big Bad' as Buffy had called it.
Moving through the shadows, Angel entered the library and hid in the darkest corner he could find. His attire was wildly different from normal. Instead of skintight leather pants and a silk shirt, he wore black tracksuit pants and a t-shirt. Instead of perfect hair and strong bare hands, he wore a balaclava and gloves. The balaclava was currently pulled up, but you'd have to be close to see the blue sheen of his face.
Angel kept as far away from the others as he could, having told Buffy he was suffering a reaction to the blood of a demon he killed. Instead of being mothering and asking if there was anything she could do, Buffy just told him to keep away. The effects of his time as Angelus had even affected his relationship with Buffy. She claimed she still loved him, but was a lot more distant.
After watching Buffy, Willow, Faith and Xander talk for a while, with Oz in the background, Angel watched as Giles and Wesley walked in. Finally, the meeting could start.
Giles "Alright, since we are all here, I believe it is time for you to tell us what was so important we all had to be here. Angel is here, isn't he?"
Angel muttered, barely loud enough to be heard "I'm here". He thought 'Who called this meeting. If Giles didn't, who did?'
"Okay. Since Broodboy is here, hiding as usual" Xander started, causing Angel to glare, which was wasted as nobody could see him. "We can get started. As you know, Finch told us about the new Big Bad, the Mayor. What you don't know is what me and Willow did about it."
"Willow and I, Xander" Giles commented
"And what, precisely, did you and Willow do that made this meeting so important, hmmmm?" was the contribution from the pompous brat Wesley.
"Well, since you asked so nicely" Xander sarcastically began, causing the girls to laugh slightly "Willow and I set up some cameras. I helped make them, and put them in position, and Willow set up the programs and recording."
"So you have been recording the movements of the Mayor. Good show" complimented Wesley, trying to make up for his earlier mistake. Since the mess with Finch, Wesley had taken a look at himself, compared it with what he wanted to be, and found too much difference. Now he tried to change, but it was hard work.
"Not only him" piped up Willow. Seeing everyone look at her, she toned down a bit "I-I mean we put up cameras in lots of places, just in case we saw something happening" She looked down, unsure how they would respond.
"Wow, Willow, you guys really did that" Buffy was being bubbly in an attempt to brighten up Willow "Have you seen anything interesting?"
"Yeah" Xander took up the tale "We saw something really interesting last night. We've got the tape set up to go. Willow spliced the tape from a few cameras so we get to see the whole thing." By this point, Willow and Xander were looking about to burst from laughter.
Angel was starting to get a bad feeling. He moved forward a step, then backed up as he didn't want anyone to see how he was dressed, or what had happened to him last night.
Last night. Oh no, they didn't. Turning to Xander, who was looking at Angel even hidden in the shadows as he was, he knew the answer, they would.
Willow started "How about we show the tape, and let you guys decide for yourselves" before glancing at Angel with a vicious look that didn't fit on her innocent face. "I think you'll all be shocked at the behaviour of this 'Big Bad'".
Angel, remembering what had happened, cringed as Willow reached to the remote and pressed play.
Willow was not as forgiving as many believed, and had taken the death of her fish, and her friends, hard. Angel may be a good guy, but Willow had no problem helping Xander with this. Anyway, the chances of Angel getting a moment of happiness with both Xander and Willow after him, not to mention Ripper (Giles didn't deal with Angel, Ripper did). So Willow looked towards the vampire with a shark-like grin. Seeing it, and where it was directed, Buffy started wondering what was going on, and turned to the TV as it started playing.
Angel pulled back even further into the shadows, unwilling to watch as these people saw his utter humiliation. Thankfully, there appeared to be no sound, so they couldn't hear him whimper at the end.
After a minute, Angel realised that there was no reaction from the people watching, and he came closer to see what was happening.
Everyone was transfixed, even Xander and Willow. On the screen, Angel was being fast-forwarded through his hair-care, taking longer in fast-forward than most do in real life.
"How the hell does he do that without a mirror. He spends more time than I do" This comment from Cordelia, who had walked in just after the tape started, shocked everyone out of their silence.
"Hey deadboy" Xander of course "Come and show us your perfect hair." the grins on Xander, Willow, and surprisingly Faith, show that they have already seen it. Angel stays in the corner, muttering about how he'd like to gut the boy.
By now, Willow had reached the 'important' part of the tape, and called everyone's attention back "Hey, guys. This is the reason we wanted you to see this. We saw Angel setting up to practice entering unseen and we wanted you all to see how it's done"
"NO!"
At Angels shout, everyone turned to the vampire hiding just out of sight in the shadows. Faith replied "Why not, Fang, this way, we'll know what to look for the next time you go bad."
Buffy looked a bit upset at this, she'd told everyone it wouldn't happen again, but something about the grin on Willows face caused her to keep quiet.
Angel was a little upset, and very worried. He couldn't remember everything that happened last night but it was all embarrassing.
As the Angel onscreen moved to the chair, Willow paused the tape. Xander turned and said "Alright, before this starts, everyone put down your drinks and pay close attention. We don't want you to miss this. Hey, can anyone smell burning hair" As Angel made another aborted move forward, Xander continued "Oh, and by the way, we do have sound." as he turned up the volume
Willow pressed play.
Angel was in hell. He turned away to avoid witnessing his humiliation, while trying to remember exactly what he did.
The first laugh started a few seconds later at the sound of a Clonk, followed by a recorded scream "NOOOOOOO!! NOT THE HAIR".
Glancing up, he saw only Buffy glanced towards him, and she appeared to be trying to hold in laughter. No, Buffy wouldn't laugh at him, not Buffy.
Looking away, Angel couldn't see what happened next, but he could hear thumps, bangs and cracks overlaid with a high, girlie scream. Was that him.
The low laughter was rising to a roar. Xander was in front, but Willow was gaining fast just ahead of a neck-and-neck Faith and Cordelia. Oz had a grin on his face, Giles was smirking and Wesley was trying to not break down. The only holdout was Buffy, although she was looking like she was holding something in. Buffy wouldn't laugh at him.
A second later he was proven wrong. Just after a loud, exultant cry, Buffy broke down laughing while Angel could hear a series of banging noises. Moving forward, he saw himself, head and hands on fire, ramming his head into the tap. But worse was to come.
Angel suddenly remembered what happened next. With a distraught cry, he lunged towards the TV, moving into the light just as the TV Angel reached for the buttoned and flushed the toilet. As everyone, including Oz, cried out with laughter, Angel came into the light. As if by some unseen signal, everyone turned to look at him. His blue face shone under the lights. His mismatched clothing stood out, as did the single remaining piece of his eyebrow.
Willow paused the tape before collapsing to the ground, following Xander who was already there. The others controlled themselves a bit better, but no one stopped laughing. The laughter forced Angel back into his corner, unwilling to face his fellow demon killers.
2 minutes later, Willow recovered enough to sit down and start the tape again. Angel was looking now, and watched as he put out his hair, only to set it alight again. He flushed himself twice in front of these people. In front of Buffy.
Buffy by now was unable to stop herself from laughing, and the sound shook Angel. She was laughing at him. Buffy shouldn't laugh at him. But she was. Looking at the screen, Angel watched as he distractedly walked into the hall, fondling his blue, almost hairless head. Once again, everyone turned to look at Angel hidden in the shadows, but he kept back, not wanting to be laughed at again.
Of course, he couldn't stop them from watching the tape. They watched as Angel almost tripped, then did trip, bringing weapons down on top of him, culminating in the mace to the groin, which at least had the guys looking uncomfortable. Next he knocked the weapons cabinet over, and although most of the action under the cabinet was hidden, they could see him scrambling out from underneath, throwing crosses off him left and right as the weapons fell to the ground.
Angel was starting to get angry. How dare these people laugh at him. He was Angel, the predator of predators.
Unfortunately for him, the predator of predators had just stepped on a rake while trying to shake a cross out of his shirt. When he slipped on the blood bag and fell over the bin Willow fell off her seat. When he got his hand caught in the rat trap Cordelia joined her, knocking Wesley over at the same time. The sight of this, in addition to Angel hopping around, was too much for Faith and Giles, who hit the floor at the same time, before rolling onto their sides.
Only Xander, Buffy and Oz were left. Oz was laughing, and Buffy and Xander were only upright because they were holding each other. The sight of this sent Angels fury rising. Xander. He was responsible for this. He would pay.
As Angel started moving forward, his doppelganger on TV finally removed the cross from his now exposed pale pink boxers. At the sight of the socks falling out of his pants Oz finally lost his fight with gravity, landing with a thump next to Cordelia, who was gasping and asking them to stop the tape before she passed out.
As Angel reached the top step leading down to the rest of the group. Angel heard himself whimper. Looking towards the TV, he saw himself, pants down, boxers exposed, rocking himself and whimpering. Angel was going to kill Xander. He'd rip his head off and use it as a bowling ball.
This image made him smile, but also distracted him, and caused him to miss the top step.
Angel tumbled down the stairs like a rag doll, bouncing off the stairs, hitting his head on the railing. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the out-of-control Angel slid across the floor, ending up half under the table. Standing up quickly, Angel forgot about the table, smacking the back of his head on the bottom of the table, sending him back to the floor.
By this stage, everyone in the library had moved back a bit from Xander, although Faith had to drag Giles, who was still laughing. Xander had stood up and stood near the stairs.
Hearing the laughter emanating from behind him, Angel whipped around to get them to stop laughing. He spun around so quickly that he got caught up in his own feet. This time, he didn't make an immediate acquaintance with the floor. Instead as Angel fell, he rammed his head into one of the chairs, which cracked from the force involved, before bouncing to the floor.
Dizzy, Angel crept to his feet and tried to walk towards Xander. Instead, he went straight past him. Trying to stay upright, Angel moved faster towards the stairs, almost running as he reached the stairs and rammed into the uprights, managing to jam his head between two of the railings. Angel ripped his head back, removing one of the railings but leaving behind the balaclava.
For a second, there was silence in the room. Even Giles stopped laughing at the sight of Angels exposed head. The blue colour of the stain, mixed with the red of his fury, had turned Angels head into a purple ball, with little bit of burnt hair desperately clinging to his skull.
Once the second passed, the eruption was much louder. Their laughter could probably be heard over half the school. Cordelia had passed out, and everyone else except Buffy, the Slayer, and Xander, who knew what he looked like, was helpless on the floor, but still watched.
Angel screamed and lunged at Xander who, having seen how coordinated he was, simply stepped to a side and stuck his foot out. Angel tripped over the outflung limb and fell straight towards the open book cage, full of all the weapons. As he struck the side of the door and spun into the cage, the only thought in his head was 'Not again'
Yes, again.
Spinning like a top, Angel crashes into the weapons and cases lining the book-cage before falling, once more, to the floor. He has just enough time to look out and see everyone looking at him before the weapons start falling on him. Knives, swords, axes, staffs and clubs fall over him, leaving him caught under the criss-crossed handles. Looking up, Angel feels a shiver of fear. On top of one of the cabinets, a bottle of holy water is tipping towards him. Slipping from its precarious perch, the bottle spins slowly as it descends, light splitting as it passes through the prisms of its surface. Angel is caught by the beauty of it for a fraction of a second, until he realises it is headed towards his groin. Yanking against his wooden bonds only causes one of the cases to come loose a little and lean forward.
The holy water bottle comes to a halt, landing square of top of his groin. But it doesn't break. Letting out an unneeded breath, Angel starts working on releasing himself before he sees it. On top of the damaged case which is leaning ever further forwards, a morningstar is slipping loose. The spiked ball slips off the case, dragging the chain and handle with it. Angel has only time to yell "NO!" before it lands on top of the holy water bottle, splintering it into innumerable glittering glass shards as its contents soak into his pants and start burning.
Angel is now wrenching at the poles holding him, actually breaking some in his haste to get away, and finally pulling the weapon case off the wall. Although small, the weapon case had a lot of one type of weapon. Crosses.
Attached to the back of the case by their chains, the crosses swung forward. Those watching from outside who were still capable of rational thought despite their laughter, could see the crosses starting to appear at the front of the case, and realised what it meant. But even though they could think, not one of them could even stand up, to say nothing of running to help him.
Angel looked up at the rows of crosses above him, and feels his game face come out. He was little more than animal at this point trying to get out by thrashing around, the pain from the holy water leaving Angel nothing more than mindless. Finally the case fell, the crosses falling against him.
The shock of this multiple attack wakes Angel, to an extent. Rather than trying to push up through the weapons holding him down, he pulls himself along the floor and out the door of the weapons cage. His clothes are ripped, his thighs are wet with holy water, his face is still in game face, he is holding his groin and growling.
The Scooby gang are almost helpless, they are laughing so hard they are on the ground. Cordelia has been joined by Faith and Wesley, passed out from laughing so hard. All the others are laid out on the ground, except Xander and Buffy, although they still haven't stopped laughing.
Xander turns to Angel and gasps out between laughs "So is that…………how you killed………..all your victims…………..Made the ……….Laugh till they……………Died?"
Angel stands up, groaning, and tries to use a chair to lean on. It is the same chair he cracked earlier, and it just falls apart, bringing Angel to the ground once again.
This is the last straw for Xander and Buffy as they fall, back to back, to the floor.
Finally deciding enough is enough, and unable to face the woman he loves in this state, especially when she is too far gone to even understand him, Angel runs to the side door, desperate to get away before anything else happens.
The others see what he is doing, and would have stopped him, or at least called out, but they were laughing too hard.
Angel slams into the emergency exit, cracking his shoulder on the doorframe on the way, causing him to spin, lose his balance and fall to the ground hard, even as the door slams and locks behind him. At least he was away from the laughter. But why did he feel so hot.
From inside, the others had watched as Angel ran through the door, right into the sunny quad. It was nearly ten minutes before anyone had the ability to move to the door. Finally, Giles stands, wobbling, and makes it to the exit door. Opening the door, Giles is hit first by the afternoon sun, and next, by the amount of dust on the path outside the door. As he watched a group of young kids run through it, scattering the dust to the 4 winds.
High above, the PTP look down, and smile. They did not have to be above, because their reality allowed them to be wherever they wanted, but they preferred to look down on their planet-sized game board.
The one who looks male turns to its companion and asks "Was that worth the loss of a champion?"
Turning to her companion, the one who could be female replied "The final result of his demise, particularly in that manner, is the rise of a new champion, the White Knight!"
"The boy?"
"Yes. Up to now he has been a wild card. Now he will have the chance to shine as a champion in his own right. Leading the charge to allow ordinary humans to fight. As you know, it is not until normal humans enter the fight en masse that we can win. With this one sacrifice, we have pushed our forward our plans by centuries. Within 5 years, the number of humans who know about demons will explode. Within 20, acceptance of the existence of demons will be nearly absolute. Soon our job will be complete, and we shall rest. All due to the death of one champion"
"And the fact that he tried to hit on you the last time you went to earth had nothing to do with your actions, did it?" the other said, sardonically.
"Of course not" she almost snapped back "It was the fact that he hit on you first that upset me. And anyway, you can't deny it was fun".
The Male figure declined to answer, although a grin, rarely seen amongst these higher beings, did pull at his lips as the two puppet masters turned to look at the stage they called Earth
THE END