Special thanks to RainLily, whose kind words brightened an otherwise grey
day. =0)
As ever, thanks to Specks for the beta and unflagging encouragement. Thanks also to Kyria, not only for the beta-ing, but also for indulging my many rambles and reminding me how much fun charging the windmills can be…
Thanks again to all of you who've taken the time to let me know what you think of this story—your kind words are all appreciated.
For the record: I continue to disclaim.
************************************************************************
Once… twice… and the Bronze was plunged into complete darkness.
With the darkness came a sudden, eerie quiet as nearly everyone in the building froze, waiting for the back-up generator and emergency lighting to turn on.
Only the band's drummer seemed oblivious to the suffocating layer of darkness; completely engrossed in the music, he continued pounding out an energetic rhythm until the violent change in atmosphere finally permeated his creative bubble and brought his solo to an abrupt halt.
As the echoes of the drum solo faded and the crowd began to grow restless, the deafening silence that marked everyone's collectively held breath gave way to worried whispers and hushed grumbles. An occasional shriek, followed by nervous laughter, could be heard as various patrons tried to make their way towards the exits, stumbling blindly over furniture and each other.
On the dance floor, Angel's arms wrapped around Buffy instinctively as he drew her closer to him-- ready to protect her if the need arose. In any town other than Sunnydale, he wouldn't have been concerned by the sudden power outage… In fact, he would most likely have dismissed it as faulty wiring, a car accident that disturbed the power lines, or even a sudden storm. This *was* Sunnydale, however, with its underground power lines, balmy September weather, and incredibly high mortality rate… He knew all too well that the more mundane reasons were strictly best-case scenario in this deceptively sleepy town. Thinking about the variety of demons he had seen since his arrival, he tightened his hold on Buffy, determined to shield the tiny blonde from harm.
Barely registering Angel's protective move, Buffy stiffened as she focused her attention on her surroundings…
So far, no one in the club seemed to be panicking, which was both a relief and a sad testament to how much life on the Hellmouth had desensitized people. Shaking off the unwanted observation, she closed her eyes and drew on her other senses.
After a moment she realized something: Her 'Spidey' sense, as she (much to Giles' continuing dismay) liked to call the sixth sense that allowed her to detect vampires, wasn't tingling. That meant no fanged representatives of the undead were responsible for the sudden loss of power… Of course, she conceded with a sigh, that didn't rule out other types of demons or even the garden-variety humans that occasionally decided to wreak havoc on her town. Momentarily distracted, she wondered how many other Slayers had been faced with such a constant barrage of demons.
'Come to think of it, 'Vampire Slayer' is a pretty narrow title… Does that mean there are Slayers out there for other kinds of demons? I bet we could start a union! A Slayer's Union! Now that I think about it, Slayer isn't very 'P.C.', either. It might be time to change the title… Maybe we could be 'Eliminators of the Humanity Challenged…' No, that would upset the good demons. How about 'Eliminators of the Morally Impaired?' Nope. That's not going to work either—too general, since some humans can be morally impaired… and we wouldn't want to take on too much for ourselves and put the cops out of business. Hmmm… I'd better leave the renaming to the union.' she mused, 'I have to remember to ask Giles about that later…'
Brought back to reality by the sound of another shriek and some giggling, Buffy tensed again and scanned the crowd, searching for any signs of demonic activity.
Noticing Buffy's tension and mistaking it for fear, Angel leaned down and spoke into her ear, "It's okay…"
With her Slayer senses already on high alert, Buffy nearly leapt out of her skin at the unexpected words and the feeling of Angel's warm breath on her ear. She'd been so caught up in her observation that she'd nearly forgotten about the man dancing with her.
Feeling a little silly, she laughed. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little jumpy."
"It's okay… I think everyone's getting jumpy, but somebody probably just tripped the circuit breaker… I'm sure the lights will be back on any second now," he reassured her, even though he didn't believe his own words.
"You're probably right." Buffy quickly agreed, even though she seriously doubted his assessment of the situation.
The fact that the emergency lighting had yet to turn on wasn't lost on either of them.
"Um, maybe we should try to get back to our table and check in with the others," Buffy suggested, anxious to make sure her friends were okay.
She was also anxious to find out what was going on, but she knew she'd have to loose Angel before she could go snooping around.
"Uh, Buffy… It's pitch black in here. How are we going to find them?" Angel asked dubiously.
"Oh, uh," Buffy thought quickly, "I remember where the table is! You have to remember, I've been coming to the Bronze for years! I know this place like the back of my hand."
"If you say so." Angel clearly had his doubts.
"Trust me…" she said with conviction as she grabbed Angel's hand.
Pulling him towards the table, Buffy silently thanked whatever powers existed for the keen eyesight and increased night vision that came with the 'Slayer package.' They allowed her to see shapes and outlines even in such inky darkness and, as a result, she and Angel were able to avoid bumping into most of the people and furniture that stood between the dance floor and their table.
Arriving at the table, Buffy came to a sudden stop, causing Angel to bump into her. The unexpected collision knocked them both off balance. Struggling to regain his equilibrium, Angel reached out to steady himself but, instead of coming into contact with the table as he had hoped, his hand connected with soft, rounded flesh. Realizing just what he had grabbed, he snatched his hand away quickly—thankful that the gloom covered his furious blushing.
"Sorry! Didn't know you were stopping…"
"Buffy? Angel?" Willow's voice floated to them in the darkness.
"Yeah, Will," Buffy answered, "It's us. Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine," a male voice answered for Willow. "Is Doyle with you guys?"
"No, Riley, he…" The ringing of his cell phone interrupted Angel. Punching the 'on' button with more force than necessary, he greeted the caller tersely, "What? Yeah… power's out here, too. We're at a club called 'The Bronze…' Huh? Oh no, just Finn, Gunn, Gates, and Doyle… Well, everybody but Doyle, he went to take a call before the whole place went dark… Right, well, we'll round him up and head back."
As Angel spoke, Buffy started to feel the cramp-like sensations that always let her know when a vampire was nearby. With a sigh, she felt for the stake she had tucked away and slipped quietly away from the table. She hoped this unscheduled slayage wouldn't take long and she'd be back with the group before anyone noticed she was missing.
"What's going on, man?" Gunn asked Angel.
"Uh, that was Graham; he's back on campus. Power's out over there too; we should find Doyle and head back," Angel said.
"Well, it's about time someone suggested leaving!" Cordelia declared. "Sitting here in the dark is *so* not my idea of a good time. Buffy, Willow, are you guys ready to go?"
"I'm ready," Willow agreed.
"How 'bout it, Buffy?" Cordelia asked. Receiving no answer, she sighed. "Earth to Buffy!"
Feeling the empty space around him where the blonde had been standing, Angel spoke up.
"I don't think she's here, Cordelia."
***
"I should have known better than to think I'd get a whole night off," Buffy groused as she neared the Bronze's front door, "this union thing is looking better and better..."
Following her instincts, she was nearing the entrance when she heard it—the fading sounds of a struggle and labored, shallow breathing.
Looking ahead and to her left, she was able to see the outline of two people. Buffy didn't need to see the glowing amber eyes of the vampire to know who was who. One of the 'people' appeared to be leaning over the shoulder of the other, holding his prey upright.
Deciding this was not a time for quips, she clutched her stake tightly and approached the vampire and it's victim from behind. Without hesitation, she thrust her stake into the vamp's heart and hurried through the settling dust to check on the vampire's victim. From the way the wounded man had fallen when the vampire disintegrated, she knew that, whoever he was, he was definitely unconscious… and possibly worse.
Grabbing the man's wrist, she checked for a pulse. After a few seconds, she found one. It was weak, but steady, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't been too late.
Speaking to the man reassuringly, she tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and used it to apply pressure to his neck wound.
Looking back in the direction of her table, she raised her voice, "Willow! Cordy! …Somebody call an ambulance!"
***
"Did you hear that?" Cordy asked.
"Hear wha…"
"…Somebody call an ambulance!"
"That was definitely Buffy!" Willow said as she scrambled out of her chair and towards the direction of Buffy's voice, clutching Cordelia's hand. The others weren't far behind.
"Buffy? Where are you?" Willow called out as she bumped into chair, causing her to stumble.
"By the front door… Did you call an ambulance, Will?"
"I'll call 911," Riley said, pulling out his phone and started dialing.
He hung back, speaking to the emergency operator as the rest of the group went on ahead.
"Buffy, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, Willow," Buffy reassured her anxious friend, "I found a man who's hurt."
"What happened," Gunn asked.
"I-I don't know," Buffy lied, "He was laying here on the floor and I tripped over him. He must have hurt himself after the lights went out. He's bleeding pretty badly."
"Oh!" A light went on for Cordelia. "You mean it was a va…"
"Vandal!" Willow shouted as she clamped her hand over Cordy's mouth, effectively shutting her up. "Darn those vandals!"
"Uh, yea…" Buffy began, but was interrupted by Riley's voice.
"The ambulance is on the way. They should be here in about three minutes."
Buffy was about to respond when, without warning, the lights came back on.
Momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, everyone had to blink a few times to adjust to their eyesight.
"Oh my God."
With those three words, all eyes turned to Buffy and the man that lay bleeding in her arms.
"Doyle!"
Before she could register what was happening, Buffy was pushed aside as Angel and Riley kneeled beside their wounded fraternity brother. Lifting the blood soaked cloth from Doyle's neck, Angel noticed the two distinctive holes in his friend's neck.
"Did you see who did this?" he asked Buffy angrily.
"No… no, I didn't," she stammered. "I just found him like that…"
Seeming to accept her answer, Angel turned his attention back to Doyle as Riley applied a fresh strip of cloth to the Irishman's neck.
"Are you sure you're not hurt, Buffy? Did you fall? Because you look a little dusty…"
Startled by the question, Buffy looked up to see Gunn standing over her, extending a hand to help her to her feet. Accepting his hand, she studied his face carefully. He wore the same friendly expression he had earlier, but she could clearly see the suspicion in his dark eyes.
Trying to decide how to answer, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the paramedics rush in and start treating Doyle. Thankful that Gunn's attention was no longer focused on her, she watched, worried, as the EMTs minister to Doyle. She knew he'd lost a lot of blood, but she was hopeful. The medics had arrived quickly and he was young… She really hoped he'd be okay—even though she'd only known him for a day, she genuinely liked Doyle. Watching as the EMTs, with unsolicited help from Angel and Gunn, maneuvered Doyle onto a stretcher, Buffy heard the ringing of a cell phone.
Looking around, she spotted one that she assumed to be his a few feet from where she'd found him earlier. Hurrying, she scooped it up and flipped it open to answer it.
"Hello," she said a little breathlessly.
"Put him on the phone," a woman's angry voice shouted at her.
Suddenly not sure this was Doyle's phone, she asked the irate woman, "I'm sorry. Who are you trying to call?"
"Doyle. Allan Francis Doyle," came the curt response from the other end of the connection.
"Oh…" Surprised, Buffy hesitated a moment, not quite sure what to tell the pissed off woman. Making up her mind as she watched Doyle, strapped down on a stretcher, being wheeled out of the building, she informed her, "He really can't come to phone right now… Can I take a message?"
"Fine," the other woman sighed wearily. "Whatever… Just tell him his wife called."
***
TBC…
As ever, thanks to Specks for the beta and unflagging encouragement. Thanks also to Kyria, not only for the beta-ing, but also for indulging my many rambles and reminding me how much fun charging the windmills can be…
Thanks again to all of you who've taken the time to let me know what you think of this story—your kind words are all appreciated.
For the record: I continue to disclaim.
************************************************************************
Once… twice… and the Bronze was plunged into complete darkness.
With the darkness came a sudden, eerie quiet as nearly everyone in the building froze, waiting for the back-up generator and emergency lighting to turn on.
Only the band's drummer seemed oblivious to the suffocating layer of darkness; completely engrossed in the music, he continued pounding out an energetic rhythm until the violent change in atmosphere finally permeated his creative bubble and brought his solo to an abrupt halt.
As the echoes of the drum solo faded and the crowd began to grow restless, the deafening silence that marked everyone's collectively held breath gave way to worried whispers and hushed grumbles. An occasional shriek, followed by nervous laughter, could be heard as various patrons tried to make their way towards the exits, stumbling blindly over furniture and each other.
On the dance floor, Angel's arms wrapped around Buffy instinctively as he drew her closer to him-- ready to protect her if the need arose. In any town other than Sunnydale, he wouldn't have been concerned by the sudden power outage… In fact, he would most likely have dismissed it as faulty wiring, a car accident that disturbed the power lines, or even a sudden storm. This *was* Sunnydale, however, with its underground power lines, balmy September weather, and incredibly high mortality rate… He knew all too well that the more mundane reasons were strictly best-case scenario in this deceptively sleepy town. Thinking about the variety of demons he had seen since his arrival, he tightened his hold on Buffy, determined to shield the tiny blonde from harm.
Barely registering Angel's protective move, Buffy stiffened as she focused her attention on her surroundings…
So far, no one in the club seemed to be panicking, which was both a relief and a sad testament to how much life on the Hellmouth had desensitized people. Shaking off the unwanted observation, she closed her eyes and drew on her other senses.
After a moment she realized something: Her 'Spidey' sense, as she (much to Giles' continuing dismay) liked to call the sixth sense that allowed her to detect vampires, wasn't tingling. That meant no fanged representatives of the undead were responsible for the sudden loss of power… Of course, she conceded with a sigh, that didn't rule out other types of demons or even the garden-variety humans that occasionally decided to wreak havoc on her town. Momentarily distracted, she wondered how many other Slayers had been faced with such a constant barrage of demons.
'Come to think of it, 'Vampire Slayer' is a pretty narrow title… Does that mean there are Slayers out there for other kinds of demons? I bet we could start a union! A Slayer's Union! Now that I think about it, Slayer isn't very 'P.C.', either. It might be time to change the title… Maybe we could be 'Eliminators of the Humanity Challenged…' No, that would upset the good demons. How about 'Eliminators of the Morally Impaired?' Nope. That's not going to work either—too general, since some humans can be morally impaired… and we wouldn't want to take on too much for ourselves and put the cops out of business. Hmmm… I'd better leave the renaming to the union.' she mused, 'I have to remember to ask Giles about that later…'
Brought back to reality by the sound of another shriek and some giggling, Buffy tensed again and scanned the crowd, searching for any signs of demonic activity.
Noticing Buffy's tension and mistaking it for fear, Angel leaned down and spoke into her ear, "It's okay…"
With her Slayer senses already on high alert, Buffy nearly leapt out of her skin at the unexpected words and the feeling of Angel's warm breath on her ear. She'd been so caught up in her observation that she'd nearly forgotten about the man dancing with her.
Feeling a little silly, she laughed. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little jumpy."
"It's okay… I think everyone's getting jumpy, but somebody probably just tripped the circuit breaker… I'm sure the lights will be back on any second now," he reassured her, even though he didn't believe his own words.
"You're probably right." Buffy quickly agreed, even though she seriously doubted his assessment of the situation.
The fact that the emergency lighting had yet to turn on wasn't lost on either of them.
"Um, maybe we should try to get back to our table and check in with the others," Buffy suggested, anxious to make sure her friends were okay.
She was also anxious to find out what was going on, but she knew she'd have to loose Angel before she could go snooping around.
"Uh, Buffy… It's pitch black in here. How are we going to find them?" Angel asked dubiously.
"Oh, uh," Buffy thought quickly, "I remember where the table is! You have to remember, I've been coming to the Bronze for years! I know this place like the back of my hand."
"If you say so." Angel clearly had his doubts.
"Trust me…" she said with conviction as she grabbed Angel's hand.
Pulling him towards the table, Buffy silently thanked whatever powers existed for the keen eyesight and increased night vision that came with the 'Slayer package.' They allowed her to see shapes and outlines even in such inky darkness and, as a result, she and Angel were able to avoid bumping into most of the people and furniture that stood between the dance floor and their table.
Arriving at the table, Buffy came to a sudden stop, causing Angel to bump into her. The unexpected collision knocked them both off balance. Struggling to regain his equilibrium, Angel reached out to steady himself but, instead of coming into contact with the table as he had hoped, his hand connected with soft, rounded flesh. Realizing just what he had grabbed, he snatched his hand away quickly—thankful that the gloom covered his furious blushing.
"Sorry! Didn't know you were stopping…"
"Buffy? Angel?" Willow's voice floated to them in the darkness.
"Yeah, Will," Buffy answered, "It's us. Are you guys okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine," a male voice answered for Willow. "Is Doyle with you guys?"
"No, Riley, he…" The ringing of his cell phone interrupted Angel. Punching the 'on' button with more force than necessary, he greeted the caller tersely, "What? Yeah… power's out here, too. We're at a club called 'The Bronze…' Huh? Oh no, just Finn, Gunn, Gates, and Doyle… Well, everybody but Doyle, he went to take a call before the whole place went dark… Right, well, we'll round him up and head back."
As Angel spoke, Buffy started to feel the cramp-like sensations that always let her know when a vampire was nearby. With a sigh, she felt for the stake she had tucked away and slipped quietly away from the table. She hoped this unscheduled slayage wouldn't take long and she'd be back with the group before anyone noticed she was missing.
"What's going on, man?" Gunn asked Angel.
"Uh, that was Graham; he's back on campus. Power's out over there too; we should find Doyle and head back," Angel said.
"Well, it's about time someone suggested leaving!" Cordelia declared. "Sitting here in the dark is *so* not my idea of a good time. Buffy, Willow, are you guys ready to go?"
"I'm ready," Willow agreed.
"How 'bout it, Buffy?" Cordelia asked. Receiving no answer, she sighed. "Earth to Buffy!"
Feeling the empty space around him where the blonde had been standing, Angel spoke up.
"I don't think she's here, Cordelia."
***
"I should have known better than to think I'd get a whole night off," Buffy groused as she neared the Bronze's front door, "this union thing is looking better and better..."
Following her instincts, she was nearing the entrance when she heard it—the fading sounds of a struggle and labored, shallow breathing.
Looking ahead and to her left, she was able to see the outline of two people. Buffy didn't need to see the glowing amber eyes of the vampire to know who was who. One of the 'people' appeared to be leaning over the shoulder of the other, holding his prey upright.
Deciding this was not a time for quips, she clutched her stake tightly and approached the vampire and it's victim from behind. Without hesitation, she thrust her stake into the vamp's heart and hurried through the settling dust to check on the vampire's victim. From the way the wounded man had fallen when the vampire disintegrated, she knew that, whoever he was, he was definitely unconscious… and possibly worse.
Grabbing the man's wrist, she checked for a pulse. After a few seconds, she found one. It was weak, but steady, and she breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't been too late.
Speaking to the man reassuringly, she tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and used it to apply pressure to his neck wound.
Looking back in the direction of her table, she raised her voice, "Willow! Cordy! …Somebody call an ambulance!"
***
"Did you hear that?" Cordy asked.
"Hear wha…"
"…Somebody call an ambulance!"
"That was definitely Buffy!" Willow said as she scrambled out of her chair and towards the direction of Buffy's voice, clutching Cordelia's hand. The others weren't far behind.
"Buffy? Where are you?" Willow called out as she bumped into chair, causing her to stumble.
"By the front door… Did you call an ambulance, Will?"
"I'll call 911," Riley said, pulling out his phone and started dialing.
He hung back, speaking to the emergency operator as the rest of the group went on ahead.
"Buffy, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, Willow," Buffy reassured her anxious friend, "I found a man who's hurt."
"What happened," Gunn asked.
"I-I don't know," Buffy lied, "He was laying here on the floor and I tripped over him. He must have hurt himself after the lights went out. He's bleeding pretty badly."
"Oh!" A light went on for Cordelia. "You mean it was a va…"
"Vandal!" Willow shouted as she clamped her hand over Cordy's mouth, effectively shutting her up. "Darn those vandals!"
"Uh, yea…" Buffy began, but was interrupted by Riley's voice.
"The ambulance is on the way. They should be here in about three minutes."
Buffy was about to respond when, without warning, the lights came back on.
Momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, everyone had to blink a few times to adjust to their eyesight.
"Oh my God."
With those three words, all eyes turned to Buffy and the man that lay bleeding in her arms.
"Doyle!"
Before she could register what was happening, Buffy was pushed aside as Angel and Riley kneeled beside their wounded fraternity brother. Lifting the blood soaked cloth from Doyle's neck, Angel noticed the two distinctive holes in his friend's neck.
"Did you see who did this?" he asked Buffy angrily.
"No… no, I didn't," she stammered. "I just found him like that…"
Seeming to accept her answer, Angel turned his attention back to Doyle as Riley applied a fresh strip of cloth to the Irishman's neck.
"Are you sure you're not hurt, Buffy? Did you fall? Because you look a little dusty…"
Startled by the question, Buffy looked up to see Gunn standing over her, extending a hand to help her to her feet. Accepting his hand, she studied his face carefully. He wore the same friendly expression he had earlier, but she could clearly see the suspicion in his dark eyes.
Trying to decide how to answer, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the paramedics rush in and start treating Doyle. Thankful that Gunn's attention was no longer focused on her, she watched, worried, as the EMTs minister to Doyle. She knew he'd lost a lot of blood, but she was hopeful. The medics had arrived quickly and he was young… She really hoped he'd be okay—even though she'd only known him for a day, she genuinely liked Doyle. Watching as the EMTs, with unsolicited help from Angel and Gunn, maneuvered Doyle onto a stretcher, Buffy heard the ringing of a cell phone.
Looking around, she spotted one that she assumed to be his a few feet from where she'd found him earlier. Hurrying, she scooped it up and flipped it open to answer it.
"Hello," she said a little breathlessly.
"Put him on the phone," a woman's angry voice shouted at her.
Suddenly not sure this was Doyle's phone, she asked the irate woman, "I'm sorry. Who are you trying to call?"
"Doyle. Allan Francis Doyle," came the curt response from the other end of the connection.
"Oh…" Surprised, Buffy hesitated a moment, not quite sure what to tell the pissed off woman. Making up her mind as she watched Doyle, strapped down on a stretcher, being wheeled out of the building, she informed her, "He really can't come to phone right now… Can I take a message?"
"Fine," the other woman sighed wearily. "Whatever… Just tell him his wife called."
***
TBC…