An Angel's Feather
--Chapter 1: Heaven's Help—
London
With a history that reaches back to the Roman Empire, London has seen its share of Vamps, Demons, and even Gods. However, on this day, a different creature will step foot in the city. A creature that has not stepped foot here in over a thousand years.
As a dreary rain finally fell from the late-night sky, citizens all over the city ran for cover. Splashing their way through the city alleyways, two men ran unseen by any, save the rats that called that place home.
"Come on!" yelled the taller man, kicking up water as he ran through the puddles.. "We have to hurry and get back to Peter's before Sunrise, or he'll stake us for sure!"
"A—Are ye s—sure we're not being followed, Rod?" his companion asked, looking over his shoulder. "I could swear I heard something from behind."
Rod came to a stop, grabbed his friend and lifted him off the ground. "Listen, ya bloody swank, we ain't got all day te be arguin' over things. Let me ask ya, who's the oldest of us, Ian?"
"Y—you," Ian answered quietly, keeping an eye out for anyone else.
"An' who has the most experience wit' these things?" Rod asked.
"Y—you," Ian answered again.
"Tha's bloody right! I am. I'm the one who's been runnin' through these roads here for ten years, now, an' I'm the one who knows when we're bein' followed!"
"Okay?" Ian asked.
"An' we're not being followed!" Rod yelled.
Ian let out a slight cry as his friend dropped him on his rear on the pavement. "H—hey, Rod?" Ian began.
"What is it?" Rod asked, lighting up a cigarette.
"U—um, who is that?" Ian asked, pointing to a man standing by nearby garbage cans.
Rod's cigarette fell from his lips, and his face suddenly distorted, showing the inner-Vampire. "Bloody Hell," Rod whispered. "Ian, run!"
"What? What is it?" Ian asked, watching his friend take off as fast as he could.
"Just run!" Rod yelled from down the alley.
Ian stood up and dusted himself off. "Well, now, whoever you are, maybe you should jus' run along. You don' want to be messin' wit' a chap like me—"
As Ian turned around, he jumped with surprise suddenly. The mystery man was standing only a few inches from his face.
"Don't get me wrong," the man began, "I'm not going to let you stay on this planet any longer than tonight. But, as long as you tell me what I want to know, I'll make sure you go quickly. If you don't, I'll tie you up, and let the sun get you."
Ian was trembling. "You're—You're not a vampire, are you?"
The man smiled. "No. In your case, I'm something much, much worse."
***
Sunnydale, CA, USA
"If you finished your readings of chapters 7 and 8 by last night, and finished the supplementaries, then this essay should be somewhat easy," the history professor said. "If you have attended all my classes and written notes on everything I have said, then you should have enough understanding of Charlemagne and the early Francs to get by. If you have read and taken notes, you will find this essay extremely easy. That is, of course, if you have also been reading the extra passages and notes I've supplied in the Reserve Room in the Library.'
'Then, there is the other 95% of you in here, on the last class before the essay is due, hoping I will shine a ray of hope on your meager papers. I am sorry to say, that there is no hope for you."
"Unbelievable," the young blonde girl snorted from her seat at the back of the packed classroom to her friend.. "How can she possibly hope we could pass this class and still have any semblance of a life, Will?"
"The History Department is notorious for being hard on its students," Willow answered. "You have, at least done the readings, right, Buffy?"
Buffy smiled.
"Oh, a smile," Willow remarked. "And not just the friendly I-did-my-reading-smile. No, no, I can tell. It's the Take-pity-on-me-and-let-me-borrow-your-notes-because-I'm-the-slayer-smile. Wow, that's a lot to take in from one smile."
"Oh, come on, Will, please?" Buffy pleaded. "I promise you can borrow my notes sometime. I mean, if you ever need them. Or, if maybe a dog eats them?"
"Have you got something you want to add, Ms. um, Ms--ah, yes, Ms. Summers?"
Buffy suddenly sat very straight and polite. "No, ma'am, sorry."
The Prof stood silent for a moment, causing Buffy to sweat just a little. "Ms. Summers, you do realize, that if you wish to pass this class, you will need to actually show up on occasion?"
Buffy started to really sweat, now. "Yes, well, it's just that—"
"I know you, like many other students in this class, are not a History Major. Just because you're not a History Major, and you have to take this Western Civilization class, doesn't mean that I'm not going to let up any. I push my students hard, Ms. Summers. If you want to graduate from this university, you'll have to learn to adapt."
"Yes, ma'am," Buffy said quietly.
The Professor turned and began lecturing again. As she did, Willow passed a small piece of paper. Buffy carefully opened it, expecting to see an apology. She couldn't help but giggle a little at the message. Buffy looked over it again, to make sure she was seeing what Willow actually wrote: "She's such a bitch!"
Buffy turned the paper around and began writing: "Wow, Will, you, cussing out at Prof? She must be bad."
The Watcher's Council, London
"Mr. Hodges?" a short, portly man spoke up, quickly walking down the long hallway of large mansion that housed the Council. "Mr. Hodges? I have news!"
Mr. Jonothan Hodges, a Watcher and Councilman for almost 50 years stood up from behind his desk. "Can't it wait, Charleston? It's almost 3."
"No, sir, I'm sorry, it can't," Charleston said, sweating from the walk. "It's very important. A vampire is downstairs!"
"A Vampire? How did he get in?"
"He's one of ours, sir," Charleston answered quickly. "Rodney, from Dorking. He says he has to speak with you, right away. Says he saw something you will want to know about."
"What on earth is it?" Hodges asked.
"An Angel, sir," Charleston said carefully.
"Bloody Hell."