AN: Hi, its been a while since i've posted. ive been
working on killing angelus. but i will try to post
more if yall REVIEW. ahem. that was not a hint, noo
way...
anyway, enjoy it, don't enjoy it, lemme know.
suggestions welcome, flames will be met with my
FLAMETHROWER that will overpower your own. I am a
dangerous teenager... see, it never gets old...
CHAPTER FIVE
The rich voice of the peroxide blonde singer filled the club, many eyes were on him as Willow and Amy entered the club.
"See? Isn't this great?" Amy asked the redhead, who looked up at the stage. "Oh my god, who is that singer? He's good."
Willow was not paying any attention to the singer. Her gaze switched directly to the short, casual looking guitarrist with blonde hair, a soft looking face, and a cute but strong looking body. He looked like a friendly, nice guy, Willow thought, a little smile creeping across her face.
"Hey, Willow, did you hear me?" Amy asked, snapping Willow out of her hottieland.
"Uh, no. What?"
"I'm gonna go get us some drinks. What do you want?"
"Um, a Coke is good." Willow said. Amy smiled and nodded, heading for the bar. She never said she couldn't put anything IN the coke.
Amy approached the bar, where the crowd seemed to be irregularly small, due to the main populus of the club being on the dance floor or sitting listening intently to the cute blonde in the duster singing "Shadow on the Sun". She did notice a couple sitting further down the bar, the girl talking about something she didn't seem to be so happy about, the guy listening intently, with a soft, sympathetic look in his deep brown eyes. She could also see that the guy was a guy, and obviously wanted the girl, who was just plain gorgeous. Poor girl, gonna get her heart broken, Amy thought. The bartender came up to her.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked.
"Uh, yeah. A coke and a Corona. But, that coke," she said, lowering her voice, "juice it, but make sure that the person who's drinking it won't be able to taste the alcohol."
"Trying to get a friend drunk?" The brown haired bartender asked, fixing the "coke".
"Yeah, she's had a bad past few weeks, trying to cheer her up, but make sure she has a good time in the process."
"I know what you're saying. Just be careful with this, it's pretty hard stuff." The bartender said, handing her the drink in a normal glass. His nametag read: XANDER. He popped open the cap of a Corona, and handed the drinks to Amy, who smiled and winked.
"Thanks, Xander." She said, heading over to where Willow was watching the guitarrist. She was pretty sure that's the one her uncle pointed out, she'd better press the subject.
"Here's your coke, Wills." She said with a sincere smile.
"Thanks, Amy, I'll pay ya back." Willow smiled.
~*~
I'm melting! Buffy thought, listening to the gorgeous, silky voice singing onstage. God, he's gorgeous. Just look at that chiseled face, and oh God, he just looked at me. He's looking at me! Smile, calm down, look casual, wink? Yeah, wink.
She did, and the singer smiled wryly, not taking his eyes off her.
Staring at the loss
Looking for a cause
And never really sure
Nothing but a hole
To live without a soul
And nothing to be learned
Buffy felt as though everyone else was out of the room, and it was just this gorgeous guy dressed all in black singing. She didn't care about the words he sang, just that he was singing, and it felt like he was singing to her.
And I can tell you why
People go insane
I can show you how
You could do the same
I can tell you why
The end will never come
I can tell you I'm
A shadow on the sun
~*~
"So, what's your story?" Drea asked Angel casually when they were seated at the bar. "What kind of a person are you? Sounds like some stupid quiz you'd take online. 'what kind of a person are you'." Angel gave a little half smile and sighed.
"I don't know. I'm 27, only child, hate my job, and since I spend all my time at my job I have very few friends. Or the ones I made just aren't around anymore. Pretty boring and pathetic." He smiled, thinking about how pathetic he really was.
"I wouldn't say that. What's your job that you hate so much?"
"I'm on Wall Street." Angel replied.
Drea smiled, and nodded, eyes meeting his. "I can see why you'd hate that. I'd go without food and water for a year before I got into that crap. No offense or anything."
"No, I hate it too. When I was twenty three, money hungry, engaged and looking for a job, it seemed like a good idea."
"Engaged?" Drea asked surprised. "You don't seem like the type. So what happen? You break it off?"
"Sort of, yeah. Got pretty ugly."
"I'm sorry." Drea replied, not sorry at all, because she got him now. For a little while, anyway. Maybe. Who knows?
"What about you? What's your story?" Angel asked, taking a sip of his drink.
Drea sighed and laughed a little, looking down, then back up, but not really at him.
"Well, I'm twenty five, I'm a personal trainer, but you probably already knew that. I also am a track and cross country coach at Livingston High."
"Big on endorphins?" Angel joked.
"Actually, kinda. I just love running, working out, anything athletic, really. But my sport is track. Long distances."
"That's funny. I actually used to do track." Angel replied.
"No kidding. What events?"
"Hurdles, but I did do some long distance in high school."
"So you did college track?"
"Yeah."
"What school? I'm asking this because it's a good chance we were up against each other in a meet."
"I went to Yale."
"Duke. I think we might have been at some meets or something against yall."
"Small world." Angel replied.
"You still run?" Drea asked.
"Here and there when I get a chance. Getting older, it's getting harder."
"Bullshit. You're twenty seven, and you look like you're in good shape. Don't even try that excuse on me. I'm a coach and a trainer, I don't let people get away with that." Good shape was an understatement, Drea thought, look at those arms of his.
"That mean you're training me now?" Angel asked.
"Just in confidence for the moment, yes. You seem to be one of those modest kinda guys who are like, oh, I'm not that good or whatever."
"And you are one of those types who generously offer PR's?"
"Twenty sixteen for a 5K. What's your point?" Drea joked.
"You serious? That's amazing." Angel said.
"Yeah, I'm serious." Drea replied with a little smile.
"That's... fast. That's like, what, less than seven minute miles?"
"Yeah, but when I run miles I run differently than when I'm running many miles."
"Damn. So what's your mile time now?"
"Six forty something. It varies."
"You're fast." Angel said, intimidated.
"You'd be surprised." Drea flirted, coy smile fitting her face as she took another sip of her drink.
~*~
An hour later, Willow and Amy were out on the dance floor, and Willow's eyes were still glued on that guitarrist.
"Stare much?" Amy asked.
"No, just like the, erm, music." Willow replied, tearing her eyes away, voice slurred after her fourth "coke".
"He's been looking at you too. Checking you out, sexy beast." Amy joked.
"I'm sure it was just somebody behind us." Willow said, not believing.
"No, he was defenitely looking at you." Amy assured her. She didn't even have to lie this time. This was easy. The part that would be harder would be the getting them together. Luckily this was the second to last song the Dingoes were playing tonight, and she could get them backstage.
~*~
Buffy sat down, still gazing at the lead singer. He brought the mic up to his mouth.
"This is gonna be the last song we play tonight," he announced in a British accent that, in Buffy's opinion, was to die for.
"It's called Dumb, by Nirvana." He finished, as Oz started up the few opening chords.
I'm not like them
But I can pretend
The sun is gone
But I have a light
The day is done
But I'm having fun
I think I'm dumb
or maybe just happy
Think I'm just happy
my heart is broke
But I have some glue
help me inhale
And mend it with you
We'll float around
And hang out on clouds
Then we'll come down
And have a hangover... have a hangover
Skin the sun
Fall asleep
Wish away
The soul is cheap
Lesson learned
Wish me luck
Soothe the burn
Wake me up
I'm not like them
But I can pretend
The sun is gone
But I have a light
The day is done
But I'm having fun
I think I'm dumb
Angel watched Drea's face zone out when the song was being played. A soft, entranced look glazed over her eyes, one of love, but one of history. She smiled a little at the last line.
"Sorry. Favorite song." She said, taking a sip of her fifth beer.
"Really?" Angel asked.
"Yeah. Kurt Cobain sings it better than that gu- oh my god." She finally noticed who it was up onstage.
"What?"
"Oh, the singer got run over by me and my team today on our run. I gave him a little lecture about smoking cigarettes near school grounds, he didn't like it very much."
"Well, those little singing men at Disney Land are right. It's a small world after all."
"Yeah." Drea smiled. She was drunk. She didn't usually get tipsy, but she sure as hell was drunk now. Usually she just acted more on impulse, said what came to her mind, but she didn't get all that affected.
Angel swallowed. He had had about seven beers by now, and was defenitely headed in the direction of wasted. He couldn't help but look at Drea's long, crossed legs, following his gaze up her slim torso, and up to her pretty, dark featured face.
He had noticed quite a bit about the girl during his talk with her. She seemed to have quite a bit more going on in her life than she let on. Sometimes she would talk a little bit more about things, and then just retract them, saying that they weren't important. She had mentioned a lot of stuff about her family, she shared some stories about her older brother and her when they were kids, and about how much she loved her family, although she hadn't visited them since she left for college. This family issue seemed odd to him, but he didn't press it. She'd mentioned that her relationships were usually breif, that they didn't work out well when they, in her words, 'rarely went down'. He doubted it.
The entire time he'd been talking to her, he was so focused on how unusually deep and mysterious she was. There was defenitely more than meets the eye with her, but he wanted to see it. He knew she said a lot for just a first actual conversation, but that was probably because they'd each had several beers. He wanted to be able to see her again, or even better to--
"Oh, damn, is it already twelve thirty?" Drea asked, looking at her watch.
Angel checked his own. "I have twelve forty five."
"Oh, shit. I have to get home." Drea said.
"What? It's not all that late." Angel replied, not wanting her to go.
"It's just that my team has a meet tomorrow and I have to be at the school by ten thirty tomorrow morning to make the bus. I probably shouldn't have stayed out this late, anyway. I'm big on sleep." She explained, standing up. Angel stood also.
"Right. I should probably head home also."
"Oh, well, want to walk to the subway with me?" Drea offered.
"Um, are you sure you want to take it this late? It's dangerous. Why don't we- you, why don't you get a cab?" Angel said, quickly correcting himself.
Drea blushed, a little laughter dancing in her eyes. "Yeah, we could get a cab." She replied. She pursed her lips. "You up for it?"
AN: yes, thats right. to have smut or not to have smut? that is the question. whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer outrageous-- aw, hell, just tell me if you want smut or implications of such smut. it may not be just with drea and angel... MWAhAHAHAHAHAHA ahem. ahem. sorry. too much coffee today. --emily
CHAPTER FIVE
The rich voice of the peroxide blonde singer filled the club, many eyes were on him as Willow and Amy entered the club.
"See? Isn't this great?" Amy asked the redhead, who looked up at the stage. "Oh my god, who is that singer? He's good."
Willow was not paying any attention to the singer. Her gaze switched directly to the short, casual looking guitarrist with blonde hair, a soft looking face, and a cute but strong looking body. He looked like a friendly, nice guy, Willow thought, a little smile creeping across her face.
"Hey, Willow, did you hear me?" Amy asked, snapping Willow out of her hottieland.
"Uh, no. What?"
"I'm gonna go get us some drinks. What do you want?"
"Um, a Coke is good." Willow said. Amy smiled and nodded, heading for the bar. She never said she couldn't put anything IN the coke.
Amy approached the bar, where the crowd seemed to be irregularly small, due to the main populus of the club being on the dance floor or sitting listening intently to the cute blonde in the duster singing "Shadow on the Sun". She did notice a couple sitting further down the bar, the girl talking about something she didn't seem to be so happy about, the guy listening intently, with a soft, sympathetic look in his deep brown eyes. She could also see that the guy was a guy, and obviously wanted the girl, who was just plain gorgeous. Poor girl, gonna get her heart broken, Amy thought. The bartender came up to her.
"Can I get you anything?" He asked.
"Uh, yeah. A coke and a Corona. But, that coke," she said, lowering her voice, "juice it, but make sure that the person who's drinking it won't be able to taste the alcohol."
"Trying to get a friend drunk?" The brown haired bartender asked, fixing the "coke".
"Yeah, she's had a bad past few weeks, trying to cheer her up, but make sure she has a good time in the process."
"I know what you're saying. Just be careful with this, it's pretty hard stuff." The bartender said, handing her the drink in a normal glass. His nametag read: XANDER. He popped open the cap of a Corona, and handed the drinks to Amy, who smiled and winked.
"Thanks, Xander." She said, heading over to where Willow was watching the guitarrist. She was pretty sure that's the one her uncle pointed out, she'd better press the subject.
"Here's your coke, Wills." She said with a sincere smile.
"Thanks, Amy, I'll pay ya back." Willow smiled.
~*~
I'm melting! Buffy thought, listening to the gorgeous, silky voice singing onstage. God, he's gorgeous. Just look at that chiseled face, and oh God, he just looked at me. He's looking at me! Smile, calm down, look casual, wink? Yeah, wink.
She did, and the singer smiled wryly, not taking his eyes off her.
Staring at the loss
Looking for a cause
And never really sure
Nothing but a hole
To live without a soul
And nothing to be learned
Buffy felt as though everyone else was out of the room, and it was just this gorgeous guy dressed all in black singing. She didn't care about the words he sang, just that he was singing, and it felt like he was singing to her.
And I can tell you why
People go insane
I can show you how
You could do the same
I can tell you why
The end will never come
I can tell you I'm
A shadow on the sun
~*~
"So, what's your story?" Drea asked Angel casually when they were seated at the bar. "What kind of a person are you? Sounds like some stupid quiz you'd take online. 'what kind of a person are you'." Angel gave a little half smile and sighed.
"I don't know. I'm 27, only child, hate my job, and since I spend all my time at my job I have very few friends. Or the ones I made just aren't around anymore. Pretty boring and pathetic." He smiled, thinking about how pathetic he really was.
"I wouldn't say that. What's your job that you hate so much?"
"I'm on Wall Street." Angel replied.
Drea smiled, and nodded, eyes meeting his. "I can see why you'd hate that. I'd go without food and water for a year before I got into that crap. No offense or anything."
"No, I hate it too. When I was twenty three, money hungry, engaged and looking for a job, it seemed like a good idea."
"Engaged?" Drea asked surprised. "You don't seem like the type. So what happen? You break it off?"
"Sort of, yeah. Got pretty ugly."
"I'm sorry." Drea replied, not sorry at all, because she got him now. For a little while, anyway. Maybe. Who knows?
"What about you? What's your story?" Angel asked, taking a sip of his drink.
Drea sighed and laughed a little, looking down, then back up, but not really at him.
"Well, I'm twenty five, I'm a personal trainer, but you probably already knew that. I also am a track and cross country coach at Livingston High."
"Big on endorphins?" Angel joked.
"Actually, kinda. I just love running, working out, anything athletic, really. But my sport is track. Long distances."
"That's funny. I actually used to do track." Angel replied.
"No kidding. What events?"
"Hurdles, but I did do some long distance in high school."
"So you did college track?"
"Yeah."
"What school? I'm asking this because it's a good chance we were up against each other in a meet."
"I went to Yale."
"Duke. I think we might have been at some meets or something against yall."
"Small world." Angel replied.
"You still run?" Drea asked.
"Here and there when I get a chance. Getting older, it's getting harder."
"Bullshit. You're twenty seven, and you look like you're in good shape. Don't even try that excuse on me. I'm a coach and a trainer, I don't let people get away with that." Good shape was an understatement, Drea thought, look at those arms of his.
"That mean you're training me now?" Angel asked.
"Just in confidence for the moment, yes. You seem to be one of those modest kinda guys who are like, oh, I'm not that good or whatever."
"And you are one of those types who generously offer PR's?"
"Twenty sixteen for a 5K. What's your point?" Drea joked.
"You serious? That's amazing." Angel said.
"Yeah, I'm serious." Drea replied with a little smile.
"That's... fast. That's like, what, less than seven minute miles?"
"Yeah, but when I run miles I run differently than when I'm running many miles."
"Damn. So what's your mile time now?"
"Six forty something. It varies."
"You're fast." Angel said, intimidated.
"You'd be surprised." Drea flirted, coy smile fitting her face as she took another sip of her drink.
~*~
An hour later, Willow and Amy were out on the dance floor, and Willow's eyes were still glued on that guitarrist.
"Stare much?" Amy asked.
"No, just like the, erm, music." Willow replied, tearing her eyes away, voice slurred after her fourth "coke".
"He's been looking at you too. Checking you out, sexy beast." Amy joked.
"I'm sure it was just somebody behind us." Willow said, not believing.
"No, he was defenitely looking at you." Amy assured her. She didn't even have to lie this time. This was easy. The part that would be harder would be the getting them together. Luckily this was the second to last song the Dingoes were playing tonight, and she could get them backstage.
~*~
Buffy sat down, still gazing at the lead singer. He brought the mic up to his mouth.
"This is gonna be the last song we play tonight," he announced in a British accent that, in Buffy's opinion, was to die for.
"It's called Dumb, by Nirvana." He finished, as Oz started up the few opening chords.
I'm not like them
But I can pretend
The sun is gone
But I have a light
The day is done
But I'm having fun
I think I'm dumb
or maybe just happy
Think I'm just happy
my heart is broke
But I have some glue
help me inhale
And mend it with you
We'll float around
And hang out on clouds
Then we'll come down
And have a hangover... have a hangover
Skin the sun
Fall asleep
Wish away
The soul is cheap
Lesson learned
Wish me luck
Soothe the burn
Wake me up
I'm not like them
But I can pretend
The sun is gone
But I have a light
The day is done
But I'm having fun
I think I'm dumb
Angel watched Drea's face zone out when the song was being played. A soft, entranced look glazed over her eyes, one of love, but one of history. She smiled a little at the last line.
"Sorry. Favorite song." She said, taking a sip of her fifth beer.
"Really?" Angel asked.
"Yeah. Kurt Cobain sings it better than that gu- oh my god." She finally noticed who it was up onstage.
"What?"
"Oh, the singer got run over by me and my team today on our run. I gave him a little lecture about smoking cigarettes near school grounds, he didn't like it very much."
"Well, those little singing men at Disney Land are right. It's a small world after all."
"Yeah." Drea smiled. She was drunk. She didn't usually get tipsy, but she sure as hell was drunk now. Usually she just acted more on impulse, said what came to her mind, but she didn't get all that affected.
Angel swallowed. He had had about seven beers by now, and was defenitely headed in the direction of wasted. He couldn't help but look at Drea's long, crossed legs, following his gaze up her slim torso, and up to her pretty, dark featured face.
He had noticed quite a bit about the girl during his talk with her. She seemed to have quite a bit more going on in her life than she let on. Sometimes she would talk a little bit more about things, and then just retract them, saying that they weren't important. She had mentioned a lot of stuff about her family, she shared some stories about her older brother and her when they were kids, and about how much she loved her family, although she hadn't visited them since she left for college. This family issue seemed odd to him, but he didn't press it. She'd mentioned that her relationships were usually breif, that they didn't work out well when they, in her words, 'rarely went down'. He doubted it.
The entire time he'd been talking to her, he was so focused on how unusually deep and mysterious she was. There was defenitely more than meets the eye with her, but he wanted to see it. He knew she said a lot for just a first actual conversation, but that was probably because they'd each had several beers. He wanted to be able to see her again, or even better to--
"Oh, damn, is it already twelve thirty?" Drea asked, looking at her watch.
Angel checked his own. "I have twelve forty five."
"Oh, shit. I have to get home." Drea said.
"What? It's not all that late." Angel replied, not wanting her to go.
"It's just that my team has a meet tomorrow and I have to be at the school by ten thirty tomorrow morning to make the bus. I probably shouldn't have stayed out this late, anyway. I'm big on sleep." She explained, standing up. Angel stood also.
"Right. I should probably head home also."
"Oh, well, want to walk to the subway with me?" Drea offered.
"Um, are you sure you want to take it this late? It's dangerous. Why don't we- you, why don't you get a cab?" Angel said, quickly correcting himself.
Drea blushed, a little laughter dancing in her eyes. "Yeah, we could get a cab." She replied. She pursed her lips. "You up for it?"
AN: yes, thats right. to have smut or not to have smut? that is the question. whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer outrageous-- aw, hell, just tell me if you want smut or implications of such smut. it may not be just with drea and angel... MWAhAHAHAHAHAHA ahem. ahem. sorry. too much coffee today. --emily