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Memoirs

Chapter 1

Nobody took any notice of the tall figure slowly walking down the street. Thats the way he liked it. His shoulders hunched and his hands wedged into the depths of his duster pockets. His head kept hung down , watching the pavement, only glancing up every now and again. It had been so long since he had any real form of contact with anyone. Redemption was what he had fought for , on a promise made to him by the powers that be. That seemed like a millenia ago now. The vampire with a soul was now back to wandering aimlessly from place to place. Sure , he still did his bit should he come across some big nasty attacking a human , but the thrill of it all had left him . Why should he keep trying ? He was sick of them telling him where to go , who to save , and sick of putting his neck on the proverbial chopping block , just because some idiotic human was either too blind to see the danger that lurked in a dark alley , or they had decided to raise hell on earth for fun!

Anger filled his soul now. He had watched his team die of old age , and their children. He had watched Buffy die another three times before she said enough was enough , and actually stayed dead. Thats what hurt the most, the sting of watching her from afar. Waiting in the shadows. Hoping that there would be a day when he would finally 'Shanshu' and be in time for her to finish baking .For fuck sake! Her cookie dough had burnt to a crisp!He shrugged off that memory. No, life for Angel had sucked.After Buffy had died at the age of forty five, he became withdrawn, he would come down and get messages, go and 'fight the good fight' , then slip back into his own room and therefore , back into his own world.

So here he was in New York. Not doing the tourist bit , he had been here before, many times before in fact, once was as his evil alter ego. The Big Apple , Angelus had taken a huge bite out of it , figuritively speaking, and now , angel was back here.

'Why the hell did I come here?' he muttered to himself.If he could breathe the air would choke his lungs. People were even less caring than in California, now that was saying something.Noise was constant , traffic , pedestrians, life in general never ceased in this city. All of it just added to Angels turmoil.

He had stopped in a bar that was open all night, just like he did every night , just before dawn. He was a regular now , and while he didn't socialise , the bar owner new his order .

" There ya go son" and the owner would slide a whiskey down the bar to Angel.Angel would sling it back and grimmace, then throw a bill onto the bar and head for home.He missed her warmth that used to radiate through his being , the whiskey was a hollow reminder of it. So everynight Angel would routinely have one , even though it tortured his soul.

You couldn't call it home. It was far from it. His 'home' consisted of one room under a deli, the only furniture was a run down old bed , a bedside table, and an old fridge. Angel had managed to buy himself a microwave. He had a few of his old books, after all he needed something to dull away the lonely hours couped up in the dank room.Sleep usually bought dreams filled with her and the life with her that almost could have been.

Angel entered the room and threw his duster over the radiator. He took a bag of pigs blood out of the fridge and then threw that back into the fridge, slamming the fridge door hard. Huffing and rubbing his face with his hands, he walked to the bed and flopped onto it. He looked towards the window, the sun was already coming up. He had made it back just in time.One of these days he'll get the strength to not make it.

A man of about twenty seven entered the bar and sat down. He put his briefcase on his lap and took out a digital voice recorder , a pad and a pen, and placed them on the bar. The owner , Harry, noticed him and sauntered up the bar, coming to rest in front of the guy.

"Whats ya poison , stranger?"

"I'll have a erm ... beer i guess" He returned to setting out his 'equipment'.

Harry took a cold one out of the cooler and whacked it's lid off using the bar. The years of him doing that had left a scar in the mahogany top.

"So whatcha doin' " Harry asked

"I'm looking for someone.I was told he came in here this time of night" The stranger looked out of the window and saw the sun starting it ascent through the morning sky " Or rather morning as it happens"

Harry shrugged and got out his cloth and wiped the bar " Get loads in now , mostly alcoholics wanting their last drink before going back to the misses"

"You would know this ... Gentleman... He's tall , brown hair , hazel eyes. Type of guy you wouldn't want dating your daughter?"

"You mean Angel?"

"Yeah. Know where I can find him"

"He's a good guy , what you want him for?"

"I assure you it's good.We heard about some of the help he had been giving strangers that were lost or threatened. We ... I mean I wanted to get his story "

"Your a reporter" Harry tutted and took a few empty glasses off of the bar.

" I am a reporter , yes , now will you tell me where to find him or not?"

Harry looked at the guy and half closed his eyes " I won't tell you his address , but , he comes in every night just before sunrise. I'll let Angel sort you out himself.

Defeated for now , the reporter finished his beer and grabbed his briefcase, replaced his items away and headed for home.