Second Chances: A Love Story
A fic by: Angel's blue eyed girl
Rating: M…
Disclaimer: I own none of them—so sad!
A/N: I tweaked the Ats timeline a bit in this chappie. You'll all see it when it comes, just know it was on purpose for storyline and plot reasons, so don't call me on it, kay? :p
A/N 2: As always, a huge thank you to my bud and beta Red. You're the best and I appreciate you so much sweetie. :)
A/N 3: And, of course, a huge, massive cyber-hug to all of you who came back and were right there to R&R this fic. (Even though I was sadly lacking in the update dept) :( BAD JEN!! But seriously, I love ya all bunches and it really means the world that you're still into this fic so much. It was awesome to see that everyone was so happy to have it back. :) It totally inspired musie and I'm already more than halfway done with the next chappie!! :) :) :) :) I just want you all to know your feedback gives me the warm fuzzies and even if I'm slacking on the replies sometimes, just know I really DO appreciate them, so thanks again…
Xoxo,
Jen
Chappie 25
Later: In Tarzana…
Buffy leaned up to wrap her arms around his neck. "Oh, he does, does he?"
Angel groaned as she pressed herself against him intimately. He was already excited from the fight, but having Buffy's curvy little body rubbing against him was making his head spin and his cock stand up and take notice.
'Fuck her…she wants it,' Angelus whispered. 'What's your problem? You want to be inside her as much as I do. I'll take Buff any way I can get her, even if it is through your retarded, vanilla, do-goody sex!'
Angel ignored him and cupped her ass, lifting her so that her crotch was snuggled right up against the hard ridge of his erection. "I need you," he panted, pressing her back against the wall of the house and pushing forward, pumping his hips against her. "Buffy," he groaned as her arousal perfumed the air around them.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and her breath caught when he surged forward, pressing his thick length against her. "Angel," she gasped. "Want you too, but…" She looked around. This wasn't some alley in L.A. This was a white picket fence kind of neighborhood. "Maybe we shouldn't. I mean, this is a quiet—Oh, God!" she groaned as he palmed her sex and put pressure on her aching clit.
"Well, maybe a quickie…" she murmured, throwing her head back and arching up against him.
She was wearing jeans and with a frustrated sigh Angel realized he'd have to let her down to get them off her. "You know, it's times like these that I really miss those hot little skirts you used to patrol in," he growled, letting her slide down his body.
On her feet again, Buffy put a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "You do know, I really only wore those to drive you crazy, don't you?" she teased as his hands went to the waistband of her jeans.
He got to his knees and quickly unfastened her pants. "It worked," he grumbled as he slid her pants down her thighs. "My dick was in constant hyper-drive around…" He stopped; his mind blank as her mound was bared to him. "Jesus baby, no panties?" he growled, leaning forwards to place a lusty kiss on her flesh. He inhaled her scent. "Heaven--I used to lay awake at night and dream of you just like this..."
"Wanted to—make you—Oh God…" she moaned as his hands gripped her hips and yanked her to him.
He buried his face in her and his growl became fierce as he encountered the hot, moist flesh he desperately needed to be inside. He tongued her expertly as he slid two fingers into her slick passage. "God," he hissed against her skin. "You're so wet…I love the way you feel. Loved you from the first second I saw you--knew we'd be here sooner or later--wanted you too much. Always knew--always wanted you," he panted, tasting her, lapping at her clit as if starved. And in a way, he was...
Buffy was stunned at Angel's revelation and she vaguely reminded herself to ask him to tell her more…but, later. Right now, he was touching her—giving her the most amazing sensations and when his mouth clamped onto her clitoris, her mind splintered as white hot pleasure raced through her veins. She bit her lip and arched into his caress. "Angel, yes, I need you…" she breathed, gripping his shoulders desperately, while pressing up against that wonderful mouth.
His cock was throbbing so badly it was beginning to be painful. With a soft sigh, he gave her a final lick, stood and yanked open the first few buttons of his pants to free his erection. "Buffy," he moaned, "I need you," he growled as he palmed her ass with his big hands. He lifted her, tilted her and angled himself. He kissed her then, "I love you," he whispered against her mouth as he entered her.
Buffy's head banged against the side of the house as she threw her head back at his first deep thrust. "Angel, yes…harder…"
He accommodated her demand and began to pound into her…
Just then the porch light came on and a tiny old woman with gray hair came out onto the porch. "H-hello—wh-who's there?" The voice became frightened, "I-I k-know you're there. I can hear you. Burt, is that you?"
Angel bit back a groan as his body froze. "No," he pleaded, "not now." He was so close. A few minutes more and he'd be coming inside his love. He gritted his teeth so hard, his jaw muscles twitched as he forced his body to stop it's desperate search for release. He wanted to scream and rant, but he knew he had to stop. He couldn't justify terrifying a little old lady to make love to Buffy, no matter how much he wanted to.
Buffy stifled her own growl of frustration. She was as close as he was and she wanted Angel, so badly, she honestly thought she'd die from her desire sometimes, but as much as it killed her to stop, they had a job to do, and as always, it came before their own needs. She looked up at Angel. His eyes were clenched shut and he was taking deep breaths. Trying to calm down, she figured. He may not need to breathe, but sometimes the act of breathing calmed him. She cupped his jaw; he was still inside her. "We have all night and the rest of…well, we have a lot of time, sweetie."
He opened his eyes and smiled, but the frustration was still there. "I want you now," he practically whined as he withdrew from her and let her slide down his body.
She whimpered at the loss. "I know," she said huskily. Her body was still tingling as she fixed her clothes. "But Mrs. Green needs us now, too."
He sighed and buttoned his pants. "You're right," he admitted, but he sounded so put out, like a child denied his favorite toy, and Buffy couldn't help but grin.
"I still love you, does that help?"
"Not really, but if it helps you—I love you, too," he muttered petulantly as he took her hand and together they went into the house and explained to the poor old woman how her Zombie problem was gone and that unfortunately, yes, her husband had been one of them, but they'd help her rebury him later
Later:
After accepting Mrs. Green's offer of tea, which they'd been unable to get out of, they left the old woman's house with a bag of cookies—payment for their services.
"I just don't know how to thank you two. You saved me and my Burt. The whole thing was just so awful—Zombies…? Well, I never imagined such things existed."
Buffy smiled. "They do and so do other big uglies, so just be careful who you invite into your home, okay?"
Mrs. Green hugged Buffy. "You're such a tiny, pretty thing—can't believe you fight monsters!" She looked at Angel then and gave him a stern look. "You take good care of her young man."
Angel smiled, nodded respectfully and took Buffy's hand. "I try to…"
The old woman smiled fondly as she gazed at them. "Just look at you two—" She sighed. "Such a beautiful couple…so sweet, just like me and my Burt." She walked them to the door. "I can't thank you enough, I just wish you'd let me pay you."
Buffy shook her head and held up the huge bag of chocolate chip cookies. "That's alright, really, Mrs. Green, these are more than enough."
They waved goodbye to the grateful woman and smiled when she commented again on what a handsome couple they made
While they walked back to the car, Buffy took Angel's hand and gave him a sunny smile. "Well, she was nice, but I can't believe she wanted to give us money, like we could take it!" She scoffed. "It's what we do and we don't take money for saving people…" She sighed happily, completely missing the way Angel was getting more and more uncomfortable. "See, this is when I don't mind the Slayer gig, we get to help people like Mrs. Green and did you hear what she said?" She was practically skipping next to him. "She said we were a beautiful couple. I don't think anyone's ever said that to us. It's kind of cool, don't you think?" she asked, looking up at him and giving him a brilliant smile.
Angel couldn't meet her eyes and Buffy's smile faded when he wouldn't look at her. "What is it?"
He sighed and looked down at his feet. Buffy became worried. "Angel, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he muttered and tried to tug her towards his Plymouth.
Buffy dug her heels in and wouldn't budge. She tugged her hand out of his grasp and crossed her arms. "Don't 'nothing' me. You have something face—so spill."
Angel looked everywhere, but at her. "I—we—well, Cordy thought—um, you see I've been…"
Buffy waited, but he hemmed and hawed and finally she cupped his jaw and made him look at her. "Angel, you're giving me the wiggins—so just spit it out. What did Cordy think? And what did you do?"
"Cordy thought that we should take money for cases," he admitted softly. "I-I've been taking money to help people, Buffy."
Buffy bit her lip. A part of her wanted to ask him why he would do such a thing. He was a Champion and Champions didn't charge to save people, but she could see he was already well on the way to a serious self flagellation session, so she went with comforting him instead. "Oh, Angel—You've been so confused, haven't you, baby?" she asked, hugging him. "It doesn't matter—did you charge for the visions?"
He stared, eyes blinking at her like the deer in the headlight look. That wasn't what he'd expected her to say, so he had to think for a moment. Finally, he shook his head, "I—well, no, we never did that, it was just some cases that we charged for."
Buffy nodded and tried to lighten the situation with humor. "Well, maybe there are some cases that might be okay, like missing persons or spying on a cheating ex…" She stopped when he just got more morose looking. "Baby, please don't go all broody on me, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad."
He nodded, but still looked away. "I know, but I do—I always did. I never thought it was right, but I let her bully me into doing it."
Buffy wanted to smack Cordy. God, the girl was so damned selfish. "Well, that little policy is going to change starting now, okay?"
She stopped and stared up at him earnestly. "We were both lost—your fault by the way," she muttered, but teasing. "But now we're together, and for the first time I have something going for me that I love, Angel. I have you and Evan—a life that I love. I need you. I need you to be happy…" She gave him an impish little grin, "now that you can be—happy that is." He blinked at her, but there was still that sadness and Buffy hated that look. She took his hands and leaned up to kiss him. "Angel, we've waited so long for this—us. We have it now—don't beat yourself up. I hate it and you love me, don't you?" she asked batting her lashes at him.
Her look made him feel warm all over again and he nodded. "Of course I do—more than anything."
Buffy smiled and stepped closer to him. "And you want me to be happy, don't you?"
He felt his undead heart swell with love, felt her love calming him. "Yeah, I never wanted anything but your happiness, Buffy."
She blinked huge green eyes at him and he melted, just like he always did. "Then accept you've made mistakes, so have I—let's move on. I need you, Angel—without you, life is just gray and mediocre."
He felt her forgiveness wash over him. It made him feel worthy again. Buffy always did that for him—made him feel more man than monster. Sometimes he wanted to ask if Riley was what she'd call mediocre, but he bit his tongue—she was here—with him. Truthfully, to ask would just show how jealous he still was of the farm boy who'd touched his mate, so he dropped it. But still...there were times when he still fantasized of beating Riley to death away. He let that go since he knew for a fact; Buffy wouldn't want to hear that!
"I love you, Buffy," he murmured, looking down at her and feeling overwhelmed by his love for her. 'HOW had he ever thought he could actually live without her?' he wondered for the umpteenth time.
Buffy rose on her tip-toes and kissed him gently. "Not as much as I love you," she whispered. "You're everything to me, I so know I love you more," she quipped and nipped at his lip.
He chuckled, licked his lip and teased. "No way, I can honestly say I love you more."
Thrilled he was teasing her back, Buffy practically skipped along next to him. "Oh, puhlease—I'm a Slayer in love with a Vampire. How weird is that? So, I think we can just say it stands to reason that I have to love you more."
He opened the door to the car with old world flourish. Bowing, he gave her a wink and a naughty smile. "I'm 247 years old and a Vampire, yet I feel like a teenager when you're around—I think that makes me weirder."
'I think you're both being fucking weird. Not to mention—making me wanna puke, so can you shut up and get Buff home so we can fuck her already!' Angelus suddenly piped in.
With incentive like that, Angel's comments got more and more outlandish until his declarations of his love had Buffy holding her stomach and laughing.
"Okay—you just might be weirder," Buffy finally admitted, gasping with laughter as she got into the big black Plymouth.
Angel was having such a good time, so he kept at it. "Believe me, I'm weirder, baby, and you haven't seen anything yet," he teased as he slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Just wait till I pull out my treasure chest!"
Buffy got all warm and flushed at those words and she was about to tell him he could definitely show her this 'treasure chest' later, when her phone suddenly rang. "Damn, hold that thought," she told Angel before answering her phone.
Angel let his mind drift, tormenting Angelus with thoughts of saving puppies, making love to Buffy (without Angelus) and spouting poetry that rivaled young William in the awful poet department…
Practically gagging, Angelus pushed against his bonds. 'Give it a rest already, Soul-Boy! Jesus fucking Christ, either shut up or stake us, cause if I have to deal with this much longer…'
Buffy hung up her phone and Angel tuned out his complaining alter ego. "So where to now?" he asked, biting back his smile at Angelus' rage.
"Spike and Gunn are still in Studio City. It's getting pretty hairy there. You remember those snake-puppy thingys—?" Angel nodded. "Well, they have a Daddy. A really big, ugly, slithery Daddy…"
Angel started the engine, serious again. "Okay, so Studio City it is. Got the address?"
Buffy looked at the paper she'd scribbled on. "It's off Vineland and Riverside. Do you know where that is?"
"Yeah, pretty much," he said and pulled away from the curb.
'Halle-fuckin-lujah!' Agelus grumbled. 'Never thought I'd be so damned happy to have you getting back to your do-goody bullshit…'
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The Hyperion:
Doyle came downstairs. Cordy had healed with a speed that had stunned and truthfully worried him, too. He needed more information on what had happened to his Princess since his 'death'. She wasn't human anymore, that much was certain, but was she part bad demon or good demon—? He didn't know, but maybe the answers as to why she'd done what she had to Angel could be found in what had happened to her.
Fred smiled at him from behind the counter. "Hey there—Doyle is it?"
"Aye, lass. Allan Francis Doyle, to be exact, and you're Fred?"
She shook his hand and grinned. "Winifred Burkle, to be exact, but you're right, everyone calls me Fred."
He chuckled. "Well, Fred, it's nice ta make your acquaintance," he said, his Irish accent heavy. "Ya wouldn't happen ta know where Angel keeps his stash of Jameson's, or better yet, Bushmills, now would ya?"
Fred giggled like a schoolgirl. Doyle was handsome and so charming, plus she LOVED his accent. "Um, well—is that a type of liquor?"
Doyle looked at her as if horrified. "Jameson's is a fine brand of Irish Whiskey, lass, but Bushmills? Surely ya've heard of that?" Fred shook her head and he laid a hand over his heart and sighed. "Well, now, that's just a slice of pure heaven, it is." Fred giggled and Doyle winked. "So do ya know where he keeps—" He stopped and on a hunch, went into Angel's office and opened a drawer.
Chuckling, he came back out with a bottle and two glasses. "Ah, it's good ta know some things never change," he said as he set his pilfered bounty on the counter.
Fred cleared her throat. "Um—do you really think we should be drinking?"
Doyle winked at her as he poured them both two fingers worth. "When confused, have a drink, I always say, and since I hate ta drink alone, you get ta have a shot with me."
Fred's hand shook slightly as she took the glass. "Well, just so you know, I'm not much of a drinker, "she drawled.
Doyle chuckled, "Then I'll make it up for ya, m'lady!" He raised his glass. "May the roof above us never fall in and those gathered under it, never fall out."
Fred gave him a strange look. "Just what does that mean?" she asked as she sipped her drink.
Doyle shot his down and poured another. "It's an Irish toast and it means 'May your house not fall on your head and those you love…never betray you'…" he finished sadly.
Fred's stomach tightened. "Cordy," she whispered as he took another shot. "You mean Cordelia, don't you?"
He sighed and poured another shot. "Aye, I thought…" he stopped and drank down the whiskey.
Fred took another small sip. "So, how's she doing?"
Doyle poured another glass; he was starting to feel numb—that was good. "She's finally sleeping normally. The hole in her head healed and I think she'll be okay, but can I ask ya somethin'?"
Fred took another tiny sip. "Um—well, sure, of course."
"Do ya happen' ta know what happened to Cordelia?" When Fred just blinked at him, he cleared his throat and tried again. "What I mean ta ask is, how did she become part demon?"
Fred looked down and fidgeted, making a show of rearranging some papers on the counter. "Well—I think it…" She stopped, unsure if she should talk about Cordy. She really didn't want to get the Seer mad. Cordelia could be cruel when angered. "Did you ask her? I mean, no one knows the story better than she does," she finally replied.
Doyle leaned against the counter and flashed his most charming grin. He sipped his drink this time before he answered. "But I kinda like the way you talk, Fred. If ya haven't noticed, I have a bit of an accent meself, but I'm thinkin' I like yours more. It's soft, flows across me ears like warm honey."
Fred flushed bright red. The whiskey and his charm were making her feel very warm inside. "Warm honey! I like honey," she murmured with a smile.
"I like honey too," he responded in a whisper, leaning forward and almost getting lost in her big brown eyes. He shook himself. "Och, you're a charmer, aren'tcha?" He didn't wait for a reply. "But seriously, lass, I don't think Cordy will tell me, and I can't help her if I don't know what happened to her, now can I?"
Fred pursed her lips as if thinking over what he said, then nodded. "Alright, but you have to promise not to tell her it was me that told you," she whispered.
Doyle took her hand and kissed it. "I give ya me word as an Irish man."
Fred giggled, blushed and pulled her hand back, trying to ignore the tingles. When her heart stopped pounding, she told Doyle about the time Cordy had collapsed on her birthday and how they'd found her pills and how they'd realized the visions were killing her… "From what she told me—that's when she became part demon. She did it to save Angel. She was floating when the vision hit her—floating, and it didn't seem to hurt her anymore, so we thought it was a good thing…" Fred frowned, "Now I'm thinking maybe not such a good thing after all, huh?"
Doyle didn't say anything as he tried to put the time line together and assimilate the course of events. "But that didn't happen until recently?"
Fred nodded. "Right before Buffy came back."
Doyle felt sick. So Cordy had been herself when she'd kept that vision of Buffy from Angel. He'd hoped she'd been demonized before then… He flashed Fred a sweet grin. "Ya've been a huge help, Fred. Thanks." He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on. "Can ya keep an eye on Cordy for me for just a wee bit? I have ta go and see the Oracles."
She scrunched up her face. "The what?" she asked, confused.
"Never mind, ya've been a great help, Fred." He finished his drink and looked around for an offering. He saw an antique dagger sitting at the end of the counter.
"What are the Oreo's—I mean, isn't that some kind of cookie?"
Doyle laughed. "Not the Oreo's—the Oracles. They're kinda like messengers—the ones who speak for the Powers That Be." He stopped and picked up the knife. "Who's is this?"
"Oh, I think its Angel's but…" Fred trailed off as Doyle stuck it in his pocket. "I don't think he'd like you stealing it," she said with a frown.
"No, he wouldn't. That's why I'm not—stealing it, that is. It's an offering—he'll understand." He got together what he needed before turning back to Fred. "If Angel gets back before I do—tell him where I went and that I'll be back when I get the answers I seek, alright?"
"Are you…?" But Doyle was already across the lobby. "Okay then…" Fred called after him as he rushed out of the Hotel.
She looked around the empty lobby and asked no one in particular, "So do I tell Angel his long lost friend stole his knife or that he went to see the Oreo's…" She giggled, feeling the whiskey now. "Not Oreo—that's a cookie. Oracles…" She typed the name in her demon/higher being database site and was surprised when it popped right up. Fred squinted at the screen as she read…
"Oh," she gasped, suddenly feeling very sober again as she read what the Oracles were and what they could do. "But he's not…" She stopped; maybe Doyle was a warrior. She'd never met him before now, so she really couldn't say. Fred kept reading, and when she came to the part of what the Oracles did to lesser beings who weren't worthy of disturbing them, her heart began to pound. "Oh, no," she whispered and looked at the door, hoping that Doyle came back through it before Angel did…
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Studio City:
"It went down there?" Angel asked, raising a brow and looking at Gunn.
They were standing around a huge hole in the ground. It looked like a meteor had just dropped onto the earth and as they looked down—none of them could see anything but blackness.
"I just told ya it did, ya bleedin' wanker!" Spike grumbled. "What? My words' not good enough for ya, Peaches?"
Angel ignored him and kept looking at Gunn.
Buffy stepped in before Gunn answered. "But where does THAT lead to?"
They all stared at each other. No one had an answer.
"Bloody hell," Spike said. "Looks like the only way to find out…is for one of us to jump."
Gunn gave Spike a look that said, 'You must be nuts!' "Jump where?" he asked, looking down the deep well. "That hole looks like it goes all the way down, and I don't know 'bout you, but all the way down ain't a place I wanna be!"
Angel sighed. "I'll go."
Buffy grabbed his arm. "Angel, you can't. We don't know where it ends…you could end up in China for all we know!"
Spike smirked. "Ain't like he hasn't been there before; remember the Boxer Rebellion, Angel?"
At that Angel growled and Buffy looked puzzled, while Spike shrugged and said, "Well, at least he speaks the language, right mate?"
Angel silenced him with a look, definitely NOT wanting to get into that. He turned back to Buffy. "I can't risk you going. It's too dangerous." He went to the edge of the well. "I mean, it doesn't look that deep…"
Buffy was shaking her head, but he brought his hand up to her face and silenced her with his touch. "I need to do this. We don't know what this is about—it may be the prophecy, and if it is—you're not safe."
"I'm never safe when prophecies are involved. Remember me—prophecy girl—always slated to die. I can't let you—"
He shook his head. "Not this time. You stay here and stay safe. If you can't hear me after I jump, well…" He stopped and gave her a tender smile. "Just get out of here, go back to the Hotel—get Giles and Wes and try and figure out what went wrong."
Buffy started to argue, but he cut her off. "Promise me, Buffy. Evan needs you—more than he needs me. Promise me you'll leave and stay alive to raise our son."
Buffy shook her head. "You're so NOT doing that to me!" She hugged him tightly, squeezing him so hard a mortal man would have screamed in pain. "Angel, I love you," she said into his chest. "When I left Sunnydale, I made a choice to be with you, no matter what. I won't abandon you, and don't you dare ask me to. I stay—end of story, and we BOTH live to raise our son." Just then a thought came to her and she turned her head and looked at Spike.
Spike was lighting a cigarette when he saw the look and his eyes widened. "Bugger that—you want ME to go?" He rolled his eyes. "Well, doesn't that just figure…If there's a soddin' hole that looks like it might kill anyone who jumps down it…Why is it always, let's send Spike? Ya think I'm bleedin' expendable, right?" he grumbled. "Because heaven forbid anything happen to precious Peaches, isn't that right, Slayer?" He paced, smoking. "But good ol' Spike—now he can be sacrificed, because I'm not bloody Angel!" He stopped, spun on his heel and glared at Buffy. "You know, I hate that, but what the hell—I'll do it—always up for a fight and God forbid Peaches here get's his hair mussed!" he snapped, tossing his head in Angel's direction.
With a snarl, Angel grabbed Spike's arm. "Quit you're theatrics—I never asked you to go--I'm going."
Spike yanked himself away. "No, you're not, ya poof, cause if anything happened to you—"he sighed and looked at Buffy's worried face. "We all know what'll happen... The Slayer would just as soon stake me as look at me—so I'm goin' cause if I'm gonna die—it'll be like this and not by her hand!"
Angel rolled his eyes, shook his head and pulled Spike back from the hole again. "Give it a rest, she won't stake you because of me…"
Spike shrugged him off turned to stare at him with a stunned expression on his face. He chuckled and shook his head in stunned disbelief. "You really are a lunk head, aren't you?" he asked, still chuckling. He took Angel's chin and turned the older vampire's head so that Angel was looking at Buffy.
"Look at her, ya tosser," he said leaning up and whispering in Angel's ear. "She loves you—she'd much rather it be me that goes down this never ending hole, than you. As much as it makes me sick, she loves—wants you…" Angel started to say something and Spike stopped him. "It is what it is, mate, so just let me go…" They stared at each other. "You're the one prophecies are written about. I bloody well hate you sometimes, but if she lost you, she'd die, so just let me—for once ya ponce—just let me do this…"
Angel was stunned. "But I…"
"I know, your soddin' Super Angel hackles are risin' an' ya don't want me to be the hero here, but think of it this way, you and the Slayer here can sit back, iron out your super capes or something, all safe and snug and—" He smirked and then shrugged. "Dunno, do each other's hair or something, while I go and risk my life and limbs!"
That pissed Angel off again. "Spike, you're so way off—just shut up!" Angel demanded angrily in a voice he rarely used. It was Angelus'—and Angel shut his demon down when he chortled about needing HIS help after all…
He looked at his childe. "Look, even if I like the idea of you going splat at the bottom of this well—I can't let you go by yourself…so..." Angel shrugged and gave Spike another dirty look. "We're just going to have to work together on this, okay?"
While Spike's demon bowed to that voice, he hated when Angel pulled the Sire card. "Bloody hell…always gotta be the hero, don't you?" he muttered. "Fine, but if ya turn into a pile of vamp goo, don't blame me, ya ponce!"
Angel chuckled. "Whatever, guess it comes with the Cape." He glanced at Spike, then back down the hole. "Okay, so we'll jump—when we hit the bottom…" He turned to Buffy. "I'll call up to you and help you down. If I don't—well, if you don't hear me, don't come after us."
Buffy opened her mouth to argue again, but Angel kissed her, ending her protests. "Promise me." He cupped her face and brushed the hair back from her eyes as he dipped slightly so they were eye to eye. "I mean it," he said urgently. "I was wrong before—when I left you in Sunnydale. I was so wrong. I need you. I love you—without you…" He stopped and Buffy's heart clenched. "Just promise me you'll stay here, and take care of Evan. Please Buffy, I need to know Evan has you. If I can't handle the fall—then even as the Slayer—your human body would die."
Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her breath hitched as she kissed him with all the love she felt for him. When they pulled back, she stroked his face and whispered, "As much as I want to argue—I promise, but you have to promise me something, too."
He smiled slightly. Figures, she was so strong willed, but he did love that about her. "If I can," he hedged, not sure what she was going to ask.
"Just remember how much I love you, and if you make it to the bottom, don't go off on your own."
Angel kissed her tenderly. "You have my word—there's no one I'd rather have at my back than you, baby." He kissed her again, hugged her tightly, then before he lost his nerve and just held on to Buffy, (because that's truly where he wanted to stay forever) he turned to Spike, "Last one down is the real poof," he said and jumped.
Angel's "Aaaahhhhh…ssshiiitt…" echoed as he fell.
Spike gave Buffy and Gunn a salute. "Bloody hell, with his fat ass, I'm sure to be the last one down," he quipped, right before he too leaped down the deep well. "Bloooddyyy helllllll!" he screamed, before his voice was cut off.
Gunn stared down the hole. "Damn, that sounds far." Nothing could be heard but the sound of Buffy's breath hitching as she struggled not to cry.
Buffy wrung her hands as she fought off the urge to scream, sob, throw up or just kill something. "Angel," she choked and it was obvious she wanted nothing more than to jump right in that hole after her lover.
"He'll be okay Buffy. He's been through some serious shit in his life."
Buffy nodded absently and bit her lip as she paced. It had been a minute or so and she still hadn't heard from him. She sat down on the ground and debated breaking her word to him.
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The Hyperion:
Cordy paced. 'How am I ever going to get Angel to forgive me?' she wondered. She sat on the bed and gave in to the urge to feel sorry for herself as she buried her face in her hands. "I was just trying to do what I thought was best for him!" she cried. "It's not my fault he's so malfunction boy, that every single time he sees one of his ex-obsessions he goes right over the edge!"
"Oh, come on, Cordy, crying isn't really your style," a voice said, making her head snap up.
"Skip—?" she questioned hesitantly, then with more authority, she said, "Skip! What are you doing here?" She suddenly growled and bounded from the bed and stormed across the room to poke a finger in his chest. "And just what the hell did you do to me?"
"Nothing you didn't ask for, remember?"
"I DON'T remember asking to be evil."
He laughed. "You'd already made your choice there when you didn't give Angel that vision."
Cordy's mouth opened, but for once nothing came out.
Skip laughed harder. "Why do you think we chose you?" When she just stared, he shook his head. "Oh, c'mon, Cordy, you don't REALLY think you were all that special to either side, do you?"
"But I'm vision girl," she said hesitantly, totally lacking her normal bite.
"ONLY because ol' Doyle screwed up and saw in you something that wasn't there!" He gave her a sad look. "I mean, seriously, you're nothing but a rich girl from Sunnydale." He grinned. "A wannabe actress—with really just a minor bit of talent, by the way."
Cordy crossed her arms and tried her best glare at him. "Yeah, and that's why you were going to give me my own show, right?"
He laughed. "Hey, the Senior Partners were willing to send you to a different dimension where you were a star—not here." When her eyes widened, he chuckled. "And ya wanna hear the REAL reason, sweetheart? They realized that your failure would bring the Irish dude back and HE'S a real player for the Powers. If we got rid of you before he showed up—then no more visions—no more Seer and no more link to the Powers for Angel!" He shrugged, "It was simple really, but then you actually tried to do the right thing when you kept the visions and that threw a monkey wrench in all our plans…"
Cordy smiled. "That's because I love Angel."
Skip slapped his knee; laughing as if he'd heard the funniest joke, before his eyes hardened and he froze Cordy on the spot with the malevolence in his gaze. "Bullshit, what you LOVE is taking something away from the Slayer." He shook his head and flashed a teasing grin. "This is me—your pal Skip, you don't have to lie to me, Cordelia. I know you—inside remember? And we all know how jealous you are and always have been; why do you think the Partners first set you up with Angel?" Cordy was mute and Skip grinned. "We wanted YOU to steer him down the wrong path."
Cordy gasped and suddenly her whole world seemed to come apart. Everything she THOUGHT she was—it was a lie. She staggered as her knees wobbled. Oh God, could it be? Was she the one that was supposed to ruin Angel?!
Skip moved closer to her and relentlessly went on. "Step one—get him to start charging people to save them. Made YOU feel important, didn't it? But ol' Angel—" He shrugged and chuckled maliciously. "It made him feel like he wasn't earning his redemption anymore. Nope, the mission had become a job—he was getting paid." He winked. "But what we really wanted was for the big mook to fall in love with you, but you couldn't manage that!" He gave her a scathing look, rolled his eyes and tsked her chidingly. "He even chose his dead Sire over you…why we thought you could take the place of the Slayer is beyond me!"
Cordy scowled. "Are you saying I was a pawn for the Senior Partners?!"
Skip clapped. "Give this lady a prize for FINALLY figuring it out!! You were a pawn, a patsy, a distraction, and not a good one at that!"
"So I was—? Oh, my God, really a part of some major plan to make Angel…" She felt her knees give out and she grabbed the dresser to keep from collapsing. "Go bad?"
Just then the door burst open and Doyle stood there. He looked at the huge silver demon, then back to Cordelia. His blue/green eyes were haunted and sad. "I'm sorry, Princess—I DO love you," he whispered and then pulled something out of his pocket. It was shaped like a globe and it was glowing.
It looked like one of those snow souvenirs, but a brightly lit Christmas one... "Uumphttapit greelzabeeach, that which has come, will now go back," he said. Just then a huge, blinding bright light burst out of Cordy.
She screamed and clawed at her stomach. "Doyle?" she cried and reached out to him.
Doyle stumbled back from her and almost dropped the globe. "I'm sorry…" he choked as Cordy began to wither and dematerialize. Her body began to get transparent, then like sand near a vacuum, she was sucked into the globe.
"Buzz kill," Skip muttered as he turned and tried to disappear, but Doyle growled and held the globe towards the big demon. "Ya gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me if ya think yer getting' away, ya prick! This is yer fault…" He opened his palm and the globe glowed brightly again. "Brigitt uhnd spuughu ajaainn. What has sent you now claims you again." Doyle glared at the demon that had pretty much killed his Cordy. "You're goin' back to the hell that spawned ya, ya fuckin' bastard!"
Skip roared as his body disintegrated into tiny particles and was sucked into the globe, too.
A loud pop signaled the end and Doyle fell to the ground on his hands and knees, he was shaking and gasping for breath. The globe rolled across the floor and he scrambled after it. He picked it up and gazed into it, his chest heaving. . "I'm so sorry—" he whispered. "I thought I could save ya, Princess—turns out I was wrong." The first sob took him by surprise, but soon he was curled against the foot of the bed, cuddling the globe against his heart and crying like a baby.
He sat there for a long time, holding the Globe to his chest as if he could still feel her in it, but he couldn't. She was gone. She'd made her choices and now he'd had to make his. Wiping at his eyes, Doyle stood. His grieving wasn't over, but for now he had to let it go. At least whatever the Senior Partners wanted from Cordy was safe. The Globe she was in was immune to magic. Skip and Cordy were gone—they couldn't help the powers of evil anymore. He stared down into the container—it was straight from the Oracles themselves, and he understood now why they weren't surprised, nor offended to see him—they'd been waiting for him….
Doyle went to the room he'd selected for himself and put the orb on his mantle above the fireplace. "I'll always have you with me, Princess—and I'll never forget ya…" he said softly, stroking the glowing glass. "I just wish ya would've remembered that before…"
After a moment, he straightened his jacket and headed for the door. He'd once told Angel how redemption was about reaching out, connecting with people and showing them there was still hope. He managed to crack a small smile. Well, if a Vampire Slayer and a Vampire could make love work, what better proof was there that love and hope were still alive?! It's what Cordy should've been working for, too, he thought sadly.
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Studio City:
"Buffy? Can you hear me, baby?"
Buffy's head whipped around at the sound of that beloved voice. She gasped and scrambled on hands and knees to the opening of the well. "Yes, oh, thank God!" she cried. "Honey, I hear you. Are you okay? How far down is it?"
He looked up, and could barely make out her terrified face. "Yeah, baby, I'm fine," he soothed. "It's not that bad of a drop, maybe thirty feet or so, not as far as we thought, definitely not hell or China!"
Buffy frowned, "But that can't be right, Angel—you've been gone longer than just a minute or two."
Spike's voice rang out. "Well, I can see you frownin' from here Slayer, so it ain't that bleedin' far!"
Not sure what had happened, Buffy didn't care. She needed to be with Angel. "O—kay, so it's not an endless cavern or a portal to some hell dimension…but it sure screams weird." She looked down, but couldn't see anything. That didn't matter though, HER Angel was down there, she needed to be there too. "Alright, I'm on my way down, baby," she said and stood.
"I'll be here to catch you…" Angel's said, his voice drifting up.
Buffy smiled brilliantly. "You always are, lover," she called down. She gave Gunn a grin, "Now that might make him a pile of vamp goo after all," she teased as she held out her hand to him. "Ready?"
He sighed. "Angel's really gotta give me a raise," he muttered, but took her hand anyways.
Buffy remembered her earlier conversation with Angel and grinned as she took Gunn's hand. "Oh, almost forgot, about that charging thing…," she said as her and Gunn went to the edge of the hole. "It's over—sorry," she said and jumped, tugging the big man right along with her.
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Okay guys, hope you liked this chappie. It had a tiny bit of smut, but I'm trying to get the plot moving along here too…Now, you know what to do…click that little blue button, feed the musie, tell her what you think and feed the beeatch, 'cause she's a beast if she's hungry!! ;) :) :p