Title: The Road Not Taken
Authors: Carrie & Robin (Buffychick & Robin the Crossover Junkie)
Summary: After a dream sends Angel & crew back to Sunnydale they discover a demon that grants each person a glimpse at what their life might have been like had just one moment been altered…and the choice to live that life, or the one they're currently in.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Nothing too much. If you've seen Season 5 of BtVS and Season 2 of AtS, you're golden.
Feedback: Always wanted, always appreciated.
Websites:
Buffychick: http://www.angelfire.com/mo3/fanfic/SMGMain.html
Robin: http://www.angelfire.com/home/thecrossoverjunkie
*Author's note: I'd like it to be known that Robin and I announced our idea for this BEFORE Angel: "Birthday" premiered. We've been posting this on the Buffy Cross & Stake for over a week. So, there.*
*~*~*
Two remained. Buffy and Angel glanced back and forth at each other. "Do you want to go?" Buffy asked him, finally.
Angel stared at her. "I don't know," he admitted after a moment. "Do you?"
She shrugged, then gave him a small smile. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Angel gave her an odd look, and nodded. "But you first," she added quickly.
He took an unnecessary breath and stepped forward. "I'll go."
"What do you wish to see?" Jackter asked him.
He looked around at the faces of all his friends. "There's a lot I'm curious about. My life…I've lived a long time. Done things. Seen things. I've been catching myself wondering what my life would be like if I hadn't been turned. But…Spike's right. I know how that would have gone. I wasn't a…noble man. I was a bum, frankly. A drunk, a lecher."
"Good times," Spike nodded, raising a flask he produced from seemingly nowhere.
Angel ignored him and continued. "I would have ended up dead in a bar fight at some point. There was no future there for me. My parents…my siblings…they would have lived…but that's over and done with." He paused for a moment. "And then I was turned, and my world changed. I saw the world…the good and the bad. I was responsible for a lot of the bad. For over a hundred years I was the Scourge of Europe, a title that I created for myself and lived up to as best I could."
Now his eyes sought Spike's. "And one night, I fed. Off a gift from Darla…a gypsy girl. And her people exacted their revenge on me with my soul."
"So you want to know what you'd be doing if you hadn't gotten your soul back?" Buffy asked gently.
Angel shook his head. "No…I know that, too. I can't watch myself kill again."
"So…what, then?" Cordelia asked softly.
His head was down now, his voice very low, very grave. "I lived in New York for a long time…I was…I lived on the streets. Feeding from rats, homeless. Hungry. Alone. I thought alone was good. It wasn't. I couldn't bring myself to feed from humans, and I was so…lost. I wasn't a mortal. And I wasn't exactly a vampire. I didn't know what I was, what I was supposed to do in my life. All I knew was that I had to pay for my sins, for all the horror I'd had been capable of, all the lives I had ruined. And then one day, I met someone."
"Who?" Dawn asked.
"A demon. Half-demon, actually. Whistler. He came to me. He knew what I was. The Powers sent him to me, to guide me. To bring me here, to Sunnydale."
"I know this…him. I know him," Buffy said suddenly. "Whistler. He came to me…a long time ago. He told me how to stop Acathla from sucking the world into Hell."
Angel's curiosity was peaked, but he pushed it to the back of his mind for now. "Do you remember when I told you that I saw you called?" he asked Buffy. She nodded. "He was the one who brought me to your school. He told me I had the potential to become someone. Showed me you, showed me how hard you were going to have it. The Powers wanted me to help you…all of you."
They stared at him, eyes wide.
Angel turned to Jackter. "What I'd like to know is…what if I hadn't agreed to come here with Whistler? What would my life be like? And…what would their lives be like?"
Cinder and ash, flame and fire, 'Tis the other's life to see we desire Two roads before us, but one to take
Show the other, the choice not made.
*FLASH!*
Manhattan, 1996
Angel sighed and shifted against the brick wall, mostly hidden by the night. "I want to know who you are."
"And I want to know who you are," the odd little man answered.
"You already do."
The man shrugged. "Not yet. I'm looking to find out. 'Cause you could go either way here."
Angel squinted at him. "I don't understand you."
His companion let out a short laugh and walked to a hot dog vendor on the corner. Angel reluctantly followed. "Nobody understands me. It's my curse. My name's Whistler. Anyway, lately it is."
"You're not a vampire."
The short man in the tacky fedora glanced at him. "A demon, technically. But I'm not a bad guy -- not all demons are dedicated to the destruction of all life. Someone has to maintain balance, you know. Good and evil can't exist without each other, blah blah blah. I'm not like a good fairy or anything, I'm just trying to make it all balance -- do I come off defensive?"
Angel blinked. "What did you mean I could go either way?"
"I mean you could become an even more useless rodent than you are right now, or you could become. . . someone. A person. Someone to be counted."
For a moment, Angel paused, listening. Then with a jerk of his shoulder he stepped off the street. "I just want to be left alone."
Whistler followed. "You've been alone for what, ninety years? And what an impressive package you are. The stink guy!"
Angel turned on him unsteadily. "What do you want from me?"
"I want you to see something. It's happening very soon, we'd need to leave now. You see, and then you tell me what you want to do." He watched as Angel considered for a moment.
"Where is it?"
Whistler grinned. "How do you feel about sun and surf? Or…well, just surf, in your case?"
The vampire looked confused. "What?"
"It's in California. She's in California, actually. We've got a job for you."
"Who's we? And 'her" for that matter?" Angel asked suspiciously.
"We isn't important. I'll leave it as 'the higher powers.' And she…well, she's a girl. That's all I'm saying. I want you to go, to look, and then you tell me what you think."
"You're taking me to see a girl? I don't need a date," Angel snapped.
"Ha! Humor! What a refreshing change of pace!" Whistler hooted. "Seriously. Come on. Whaddya got to lose? Besides your corner of the alley."
"I can't travel," Angel tried again. "How am I going to get there?"
"How'd you get here?"
"Boats."
Whistler paused. "Oh. Well, no, we're not taking the Princess Cruise, sorry. Good old fashioned planes, trains and automobile's, son."
"I want to know why."
"Why what?"
"I want to know why I'm going to see a girl. Who's the girl?"
"Look, I can't tell you just yet. You've gotta trust me," Whistler told him, getting impatient.
Angel jerked a shoulder and settled back onto the ground, closing his eyes wearily. "Then I'm not going."
Whistler's eyes shot wide. "What?"
"I'm not going," Angel repeated.
"Whoa, buddy. You don't know what I'm offering you here."
Angel's eyes opened and he stared pointedly at Whistler. "No, I don't."
Whistler, defeated, stared back. "Fine. But I'm going to get my demon-hide tanned for this. I'm taking you to California. We're going to see a girl…the Slayer."
Angel's expression changed to one of surprise, then amusement. "Get away from me, I'm warning you now."
"You couldn't hurt me right now if you wanted to," Whistler snubbed, kneeling in front of him.
Angel's eyes closed, then opened suddenly and he lunged at Whistler, knocking them backwards onto the ground. Angel was inches from Whistler's face when he hissed. "Go. Away."
When he backed off, Whistler struggled to his feet. "This could change things for you."
"Yeah, I guess they could. I could be a big pile of dust."
"She's not--"
"She's a Slayer. She kills vampires. I'm a vampire. I may not be up on the new math, but that still adds up."
"Look, I know it sounds wacky. I'm not here to play the death march for you, you're doing that just fine on your own. The Powers sent me to guide you. But I can't force ya. If you're not interested, you're not interested. You could be someone, Angel. With a home, clean clothes, friends…and hey…a purpose! Or you can stay here, tormenting yourself for the next few hundred years until you get up the nerve to just take a step out into the sunlight and end it all."
He leaned in again, warily, but desperate to make his point. "But it won't end there, will it? You die, you go to hell. Hundred, thousands more years of torment." He stepped back. "Yeah. I can see why taking a plane ride is such a bad decision." With that he turned and walked out of the alley.
Angel leaned against the brick wall, dirty, grimy, and exhausted. Closing his eyes, he tried his best to ignore the hunger in his belly and the sound of Whistler's voice.
*~*~*
"You were homeless. Really, truly homeless," Cordelia murmured. "Like, living in a box homeless. Did you even have a box? Or were you more a street person?" She turned back to the fire. "Wow. Angel. Homeless."
"We get it, Cordy," Buffy told her.
"Talk about movin' on up," Gunn grinned appreciatively.
*~*~*
*FLASH!*
Sunnydale, March, 1997
Buffy stood in front of Giles, angry. "It's my first day! I was afraid that I'd be behind in all the classes, that I wouldn't make any friends, that I'd have last month's hair. I didn't think there would be vampires on campus. And I don't care."
Giles whirled on her. "You have no idea what's going on, do you? Do you think it's a coincidence, your coming here? That boy was just the beginning."
"Oh, why can't you leave me alone?"
Now he stared at her, hard and serious. "Because you are the Slayer."
*FLASH!*
Giles chased Buffy out into the hall of Sunnydale High, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the side, desperate. "It's getting worse."
"What's getting worse?"
"The influx of the undead, the supernatural occurrences. It's been building for years and now… There's a reason why you're here, and there's a reason why it's now."
"Because now is the time my mom moved here."
He ignored her. "Something is coming. Something is going to happen here soon."
"Gee, can you vague that up for me…?"
"As far as I can tell, the signs point to a crucial mystical upheaval very soon – days, possibly less."
She rolled her eyes. "Come on. This is Sunnydale. How bad an evil can there be here?"
*FLASH!*
"Jesse!" Willow screeched as she ran through the cemetery. Buffy, having raced out of the Bronze and into the night with Xander, was right behind them. She whirled to face her friends. "What's going on? What is that?"
"That would be a vampire…am I right?" Xander asked, completely serious as he stopped to catch his breath.
Buffy, barely winded, nodded. "Pointy teeth and all."
"Whoa…vampire? What are you talking about?" Willow asked.
"Vampires are real. I'm a Slayer. Keep it a secret. Any questions?" Without waiting for an answer, Buffy continued to look around for Jesse, frustration evident on her face. "God! How did they get out of here so fast?"
"So…vampires?" Willow asked, her mind still not catching up.
"Maybe we should split up?" Xander asked, at a loss.
"No. I'm going to walk you guys home, and then I'm coming back to look alone." Buffy sighed.
"Alone?" Willow asked. "But, Buffy, maybe we should stay with you? Just in case?"
"No. There's nothing you guys can do anyway. You're going home."
*FLASH!*
"I'm really sorry. I couldn't find him," Buffy said sadly as she walked into the library the next morning.
"Oh, Jesse," Willow moaned, her face falling dejectedly.
Xander looked almost panicked. "What do you mean, you couldn't find him?"
"I'm sorry, Xander. I looked all over that cemetery. I couldn't find even a single vampire, let alone Jesse. Tonight we'll go back to the scene of the crime…hit up the Bronze. It's a social spot, lots of people, not too many paying attention to anyone else. Perfect people trap. Maybe we'll recognize one of the vamps from tonight and they'll lead us back to Jesse."
"You're letting us come this time?" Xander replied sourly.
"Nothing can happen to you at the Bronze," Buffy replied, ignoring his sarcasm. "It's way crowded, and I can keep an eye on you."
*FLASH!*
"Do you see any of them?" Willow looked around again, craning her neck to see as far as possible. They'd been sitting at the same table for an hour, desperately hoping to find one of the cronies from the night before.
"No, but I see…Jesse!" Xander shouted suddenly, and took off running. Willow looked in the direction he headed in, and gave a happy squeal before she and Buffy followed.
"Guys!" Jesse cried. "You are never going to believe this. I can't…it's incredible!" he shouted over the din.
"How'd did you get out?" Buffy asked as they led him back to the couches.
Jesse shuddered. "I ditched that chick in the park after she tried to bite me. Bite me! I mean, can you believe it? I ran and hid behind that big clump of trees on the edge of the park, then some guy joined her, so I stayed put. I guess I fell asleep, 'cause the next thing I know the sun's up."
"Yeah, that'll do it," Buffy told him. "You were lucky."
"We were looking for you…or for the people who took you," Willow added. "We thought they might come back here."
Jesse grinned when something caught his eyes. "You weren't wrong," he whispered, ash white, and pointing a finger out to the crowd.
Their gazes followed and Buffy's eyes lit on the blonde girl in the Catholic School uniform. She was dancing with a guy they didn't know when she suddenly took his hand and led him to the door. "Time to go to work," Buffy murmured and stood up.
"We're going with you," Xander told her. "I'm not taking no for an answer."
Buffy noted his expression and decided against arguing. "Fine. But stay close together and be careful." They walked outside and Buffy looked around for weapons. An old crate lay on its side next to the dumpster and she quickly broke it into stake-sized pieces. "Aim for the heart."
"Where'd she go?" Willow asked, looking from side to side. The street was empty.
Buffy sighed. "Great. Ok…new plan. Xander, Jesse, you two go that way, Willow and I will go this way. If you run into trouble…scream like a girl. We'll come running."
"What if you get into trouble?" Xander asked them.
Buffy looked at him dead-on. "We won't."
The groups separated and Willow practically clung to Buffy's arm. "Willow…a little breathing room would be nice."
"Sorry," she whispered, but didn't let go.
*FLASH!*
"Jesse, man, it's so good to have you back. We were worried something happened to you. Like you were dead, or something."
"Nah, man. I'm more alive than ever," Jesse grinned as they strolled around the Bronze.
"So…where are we going?" Xander looked around curiously.
Jesse stepped into an alley. "Nowhere, Xander. Just looking around."
"Yeah, but where are we looking?"
"Doesn't matter," Jess said. His voice was a little muffled, and Xander stepped forward.
"Jesse?"
Suddenly Jesse turned on Xander, baring his fangs with a growl. "I'm kinda hungry, though." And he dove for Xander's neck.
As soon as he felt the prick of Jesse's new fangs sing into his skin, Xander gave a yelp and bucked. His arms flew out, pushing Jesse back. Jesse growled loudly in dismay.
"Did you just bite me?" Xander cried incredulously. "You did!! You just bit me! I can't believe you'd try to eat me! I thought we were friends!"
Jesse smirked. "We are friends, Xan! But you were all nervous, and your blood was pumping, and it just sounded really good!"
"You couldn't have asked?"
"You wouldn't have said yes!" Jesse cried defensively.
"Well of course I wouldn't have! I'm not going to let you drink my blood!"
"Well, that's why I didn't ask!"
"You know, Jess, man, you never used to be this rude. Just take, take, take."
"Come on, Xander, I'm sorry. Really."
"It won't happen again?" Xander asked, sounding like a mother scolding her child.
"No," Jesse promised.
"Good." With that, Xander took off running down the alley, as fast as he could go. However, Jesse's reflexes were enhanced, and he grabbed Xander by the time he got a couple of steps away.
"Liar," Xander croaked.
"What can I say, Xan?" Jesse replied, just before sinking his fangs into Xander's neck. "I'm evil."
*~*~*
"Oh my God!" cried Willow. "Jesse killed Xander!"
"Jeez. And after everything I did for him when we were kids, too," Xander said petulantly.
"I think you should pick this one, Angel," Spike said happily. "I like seeing the wanker get eaten. Makes me hungry."
"Shut up, Spike," replied at least four different people.
*~*~*
Willow, Giles, and Buffy walked slowly through the streets of Sunnydale, Buffy with a comforting hand on Willow's arm.
"I'm really, sorry, Willow. We'll find them. We will," Buffy promised.
"But, but what if we don't?" Willow said, her voice small. "What if something's happened to them? They were my best friends, Buffy. I grew up with them."
Buffy pulled her into a hug. "We'll find them. I'll find them."
They released the embrace, and Buffy gave Willow a small smile. The group continued walking. Suddenly Willow stopped. "Xander!" she cried, pointing. Buffy looked into the distance, and saw Xander standing near the Bronze, his back to them. He didn't turn at the sound of his name.
Willow took off running. "Willow, wait!" Buffy cried before taking off after her. Giles started after both girls.
"Xander!" Willow shouted again. Xander still didn't turn, and the group continued running toward him. He stepped into the Bronze, disappearing from view. Willow, Buffy, and Giles caught up, and went through the door as well. Into the dark club.
"Okay, this can't be good," Buffy said flatly. A spotlight shone on a vampire on the stage, who was just taking his mouth off his dead victim's neck.
"Xander?!" called Willow into the din. She looked around frantically, seemingly unaware of the vampire on the stage, drinking the blood of her schoolmates.
"Willow!" Buffy hissed. "Shh!"
"Bit late," snorted someone beside them. They turned to see the blonde female vampire that Jesse had left the Bronze with two nights before.
Buffy pushed Willow toward Giles behind her, and stepped up to the vampire with a cocky expression.
"The schoolgirl look went out a long time ago. You should really rethink that wardrobe," she said, looking at the vampire's outfit distastefully.
"Big words from such a little girl."
"At least I'm not a big skanky ho."
"But I'll bet you taste good," said the vampire, lunging for her.
*FLASH!*
"Okay, what do you think you're doing?" Cordelia cried angrily, trying to push her way past Jesse and out of the alley he had dragged her into. "You are seriously deranged."
"Not at all, Cordelia. Just thought you and me could have a little fun, is all."
"With you?" she cried. "I don't think so. I do have some standards. You're such a creep. Now get out of my way."
"I don't think he's going to be doing that," Xander said, stepping up behind Jesse.
"Oh, great, now I'm being cornered by two losers. Lucky me!" Cordelia growled sarcastically.
"Jesse, man, go on inside. Cordelia and I have a little business to attend to," Xander said, stepping in front of Jesse.
"Excuse me? I don't think so. Cordelia's mine!" Jesse argued, whirling to glare at Xander.
"Says who?"
"Says me!"
"Why should you get to kill her?" Xander asked angrily.
"Because she's ignored me for years! She won't go out with me! I should get some revenge!"
"What about me? I've hated Cordelia for years! Remember the "I Hate Cordelia" Club?"
"Yeah, yeah, you're the treasurer. I don't care, Xander! I wanna kill her!"
"Whoa, okay…what? Killing me? Right. If you two were even the least bit scary I'd be kicking your asses all the way down this alley right about now," Cordelia broke in heatedly. "But you're not. You're pathetic little boys. Now, get out of my way!" With that she wrestled free of their grips and began to storm off.
Jesse and Xander stood, speechless, for a brief moment. "You know…I'd be up for…sharing," Jesse offered.
"Sounds like a workable plan," Xander replied huskily, leering after Cordelia's retreating figure. They took off down the alley and ran around her, blocking her path once more.
Cordelia sighed and put one hand on her hip. "You have three seconds before I embarrass you."
"We don't think so," Jesse growled, and his face morphed.
Cordelia gasped and leapt towards Xander. "Oh my God! Look at--" she looked to his face for comfort and shrieked again as her eyes met bright amber ones.
They moved in.
*~*~*
"You killed me??" Cordelia cried, smacking Xander on the arm. Xander rubbed his arm.
"Ow! I didn't do it!"
"I just watched you do it!" Cordelia cried loudly.
"Yeah, but that's vamp-me! I wouldn't do it if I weren't an evil soulless vampire!!"
"I'm surprised you had the stones to do it as a vampire, Monkey-Boy," Spike said, rolling his eyes and taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Shut up, Spike," most of the group snapped.
*~*~*
"You two need to stay here, and get as many people out as you can," Buffy directed Giles and Willow, looking after where the blonde vampire had disappeared. "She's probably going home. I'm going to see who she answers to. You guys be careful. That vamp looks strong."
Giles started to protest and Buffy cut him off. "I'm the Slayer, it's my job, and I do it alone. Get them out." She turned and took off into the night.
Buffy looked around the darkened street, seeing a flash of tacky blue plaid swirl around a corner, and she took off running. She turned the same corner, and looked around again. A flicker of blonde hair, and she was off running again, turning corners, not gaining on the vampire, but not losing her either. Buffy soon found herself in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement near the door of a mausoleum, and headed toward it.
Buffy slowly opened the door, and peeked in. Nothing. She almost turned around and left, to go look for the vampire, when she heard a small scraping. She whirled, toward the sound, and noticed that the iron gate toward the back was vibrating a little. Buffy stared at it for a moment.
"Well. That's a trap. And not a very good one," she muttered to herself before wrenching open the gate and stepping gingerly into the sewer beyond it.
*~*~*
"I'm following Darla into a trap?" Buffy asked skeptically. "Did Angel make me smarter or something? Because that's just not in the Buffy Survival Skills Handbook."
"At least you knew it was a trap," Willow said, trying to be comforting.
"Biiiiiig help," replied Buffy.
*~*~*
"Hello? I'm looking for a big scary vampire? Or a little slutty blonde one?" Buffy called into the huge chamber she found. It seemed to be an altar, centered on a large chair that faced away from her. She watched as a figure stood up from the chair and turned to face her.
"Slayer," He rasped.
"Wow. You're ugly," Buffy said with a smirk as she approached the vampire.
"And you're about to be quite dead," he replied bemusedly. "And the most glorious part of this entire episode is that you have no idea that I knew of you…that you would come to me…and that you are destined to die by my hand. Albeit, I didn't expect this so soon."
Buffy looked bored. "We could listen to you yap for a while longer, or I could just use my handy little stake here to make you dust," she offered.
"Try it." He held out a hand and she was forcefully pulled towards him though her body struggled against his magic. Suddenly he was behind her, grabbing her around her chin and arms. He whispered into her ear, "This was inevitable, Slayer. It is your destiny." Holding her down as his fangs sunk into her neck. He drank for a few moments, until she was so weak she couldn't move, then let her drop, falling facedown into a pool of sewer water.
"Mmm," he said. "Slayer blood. Tasty…like a cocktail, with a kick." He stepped forward with a gleeful expression, and continued walking out of what had, until now, once been his prison.
*~*~*
"The Master killed you," Angel said, his voice quiet.
"I didn't even last a week in Sunnydale!" Buffy pouted.
"I think that's enough," Angel said.
"No, Angel. We still haven't seen what happens to you," Cordelia argued.
Angel sighed. "Fine…but I'm telling you now…if it gets worse, that's it. It's over."
"Very well," Jackter said, continuing the vision.
*~*~*
Manhattan,
October, 1999
Angel rarely came to the 84th Street Shelter. The cold didn't bother him, neither did the heat, but the thought of a comfortable bed, even a cot, was inviting enough to get him to walk the nine blocks in one of the worst storms the winter had yet seen.
He approached the door with caution, alert even through the fog of hunger. He wouldn't find food here, he knew. Not his kind, anyway. It didn't really matter. Eating wasn't a priority any more. Nothing mattered, really, if he thought about it. Eventually the hunger would pass, the cramping in his belly would cease, and the numbness of undead living would once again creep up throughout his body.
He'd stayed in this shelter once or twice before, months apart, and now recognized no one as he walked through the halls, keeping his head down. The thought of a shower sounded in his brain…water, warm and soapy. His nails were grimy and caked with dirt, his clothes were tattered and soiled from the harshness of the New York streets. A shower would be priority number one, though the lines were bound to be long. The 84th was one of the few facilities that offered showers, making it one of the most popular among the homeless. And you didn't get a shower for nothing. It required a can of food, or a dollar donation, something not many that visited here had.
An hour later, his hair still damp, he shrugged back into the filthy clothing, hoping that the feeling of cleanliness would at least last him until he sank onto a cot and slumbered the night, and most of the morning, away. The blankets were stiff and the cot tiny, but it was heaven all the same. Closing his eyes, Angel slept.
Something woke him hours later. When he looked up the room was dim and, for the most part, quiet. Nothing was moving that should have alerted him, especially through sleep. Ignoring the nagging in the back of his head he bundled down further into the pillow and closed his eyes. Then he opened them again.
Grass green eyes were staring at him from the next cot over. Angel was a little stunned, then perturbed. Giving the peeper a hard glare he shut his eyes again only to hear a faint chuckle.
His eyes opened again. "Can I help you with something?" he asked.
The face across from him, a man, dark hair to contrast his bright eyes, broke into a grin. "Just wondering who you are."
"I'm sleeping," Angel told him gruffly and closed his eyes for a third time that night.
"Well, Sleeping. That's odd. Cain't say I've heard that name much. Meself, I thought you looked more like an angel."
Angel's eyes flew open.
"I know what yer thinkin'. Sayin' that to any other bloke'd get my ass kicked from here to the bleedin' Mother Land. But…it's yer name, so I guess it doesn't sound so bad."
Angel sat up slowly and the man mimicked him. "Who are you?" the vampire fairly growled, glancing around.
"I think I asked you first," the man said pointedly. "But, since I'm an agreeable fellow, I'll play along. Name's Doyle. I'm 'ere ta talk to ya."
"About what? How do you know my name?" Angel asked suspiciously.
Doyle looked at him seriously. "I'm not the first stranger you've come across who knew more about you than you'd care, am I? Think back…couple, three years ago? Annoying little worm by the name o' Whistler? Natty dresser."
Angel's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, so?"
"Let's say…the message didn't get through that time. Line was busy. So they sent me. Second try."
"I'm still not interested," Angel told him and turned his back on the man with the oh-so-familiar Irish accent, settling back down on the cot.
"You haven't even heard me out!" Doyle whispered fervently, rising from the cot and falling to one knee next to Angel's bed. He spoke to the back of the vampire's head. "They sent me with a message."
Angel didn't answer, and Doyle pushed ahead. "Said to tell you that things are really pretty jacked up thanks to you. You didn't listen the first time they took the time out to worry about a lower being and now the whole world's just going to Hell in a handbasket."
Angel rolled his eyes and tilted his head backward just enough to be heard. "Nice pep talk. Keep this up, I'll be doing anything they say."
Doyle sighed. "Look, you were supposed to go to this Sunnydell place or wherever, help out this Slayer and her chums. You didn't. She's dead. Half her friends are dead. And big evil's a-risin'. Some of your old pals are there, too. The Master…Darla…" Doyle waited and was pleased to see Angel's body stiffen at the mention of his former mate. "There all there, raisin' Cain and pretty much doin' what they can to keep that town out of the California Tourism Guides."
"So?"
"So? You changed all that, mate! You're that important! If you'd been there…well…let me tell ya. I've seen some of the director's cut. Pretty big stuff. You being there woulda made a world of difference. Plus, you and this Slayer?" Doyle made a rude noise that put Angel's vampire reflexes to use. He flipped suddenly and had the man by the throat.
"I'm going to ask you again. Then I'm going to get unfriendly. What do you want?" he growled, morphing into vamp face for a brief, terrifying second before returning to his human visage.
Doyle gulped and clutched at his throat. Angel loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely. "Ok! Ok! Look. I'm here to try and get you to stay on our side. The Powers give me visions. I don't know why, I don't know how, but they told me what to do with them. I'm supposed to help you. And last night, I got a mother of a sneak preview at some stuff coming up. It involves you. And a snarky character by the name of Angelus." Angel's head whipped up. "Yeah. Now yer listenin'. Angelus, mate. That guy you've spent the better part of the last hundred years brooding over but doing nothing about. You could be atoning right now. Instead yer here, pitying yerself."
Angel released Doyle completely and stared at him.
Doyle nodded. "The wheels turnin' now? Angelus is gonna come out to play, mate. In a couple days someone's gonna find you. Blonde, gorgeous…dead. Goes by the name, 'Sire?' She's going to find you, and she's going to show you how to get rid of yer soul. And yer gonna go to Boston and kill the newest Slayer, a little spitfire named Faith. And after Faith…well, I probably don't need to tell ya what's on the menu, do I? You and Darla, back together again?"
"Darla?" a stunned Angel whispered.
Apprehensive green eyes blinked. "The one and only. Whistler told you you could go either way. I'm telling you the same thing. Look, Angel. I've seen it. I've seen the stuff you were supposed to do, and I've seen the stuff you might still. The life you would have had, if you'd followed Whistler…it wasn't too shabby. Got yerself cleaned up, got some friends, got some lovin'…okay, so you got run through the gut and sent to Hell by your true love…but we'll gloss over that and get to the big picture," he said quickly, moving on. "The Powers are giving you chance after chance, in either life. They need you on their side, for the good of mankind and all that crap. You can listen to me, and use what I'm telling you to hang on to that soul of yours, and become someone pretty damned important, or you can let that hussy sire take it from you and start on the road to Hell all over again."
He finished his speech and took a breath, sitting back on his own cot. Angel stared at him for a minute, unblinking, then ticked his eyes around the room, thinking. After a minute he turned back to Doyle. "Why me?"
Doyle let out a short laugh. "Your guess is as good as mine. I mean, why me? Why do I get the mind-shattering visions? We're just lucky, I guess. Besides, it's not every day they run across a vampire with a soul."
"You're not human," Angel observed.
A black eyebrow went up indignantly. "We'll work on your manners later. No, I'm not. Not entirely. Got a little demon in me, nothing special."
The vampire was quiet again for a moment, his eyes cast to the ground. "I was supposed to go to California and help the Slayer?"
"Yeah."
"And now she's dead."
Doyle noted the slight amount of regret in his voice. "Yeah, she is."
"I would have helped her."
"For a few years, yeah…then you'd have moved on, taken the fight somewhere else."
"A vampire and a Slayer?"
"And a witch, and a werewolf and a Watcher, oh my!" Doyle sighed. "Get past it, mate, it's done. I need an answer. You can go back to sleepin' in this leper colony, or you can come with me, back to my place, we'll get you some clothes, some food," he wiggled his eyebrows knowingly, "and we'll prepare you for what's about to come."
Angel hesitated.
"You really want to be homeless forever? The Powers, they showed me a bit of your life as Angelus. The man had taste. It must just be killin' the demon inside you to be dressed like this."
Angel rolled his eyes and stood up. "Where are we going?"
*~*~*
"Holy crap," Cordelia whispered, one hand covering her mouth in awe. "That man just gets around, doesn't he? He's in everybody else's 'other lives' but mine!"
"Darla's still alive…the Master took over Sunnydale," Xander noted. "That can't be good. But hey! I'm a vampire, so it's probably not a big deal to me."
"To you!" Willow cried. "I'm still there, with Giles!"
Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile. "Faith's been called. I guess Kendra died after all."
"But she's not in Sunnydale…which means I may not be sent there either," Wesley pointed out.
Angel continued to stare at himself, and his long-lost friend, in the flickering flames.
*~*~*
*FLASH!*
Angel moved gracefully around the room of the abandoned gym Doyle had clued him in to. "Went bankrupt, left town, and their equipment, or most of it anyway. Now some demons run it for the underground. I can get us in," he'd said.
The broadsword in his hand, his mind turned, remembering how it felt to hold a weapon, going over the movements required for battle. It came back quickly.
"You know, for a guy who's been more or less out of commission for the last hundred years…" Doyle teased, looking up from his magazine on the other side of the room. "You're making me look bad."
Angel spared him a glance as he whirled and thrust the sword at an imaginary enemy. "If you got up off that couch and tried this it might help."
"That's work," Doyle pointed out and went back to his article.
"A few days isn't going to get me back to my full strength," Angel told him, as he finished a flurry of twists and turns, ending up rolling on the floor and landing in front of the visionary.
"This chick that tough?"
Angel chuckled. "She's…cunning."
"Maybe she'll leave once she hears you're not interested."
Now Angel laughed. "You don't know Darla."
"And I suppose you think you do," a female voice purred.
Doyle dropped his magazine as Angel whipped around, sword coming up. "Hello, Darla," he muttered.
She smiled saucily. "Hello, Angelus. It's been so long."
"Just a few decades…since you abandoned me and left me for dead. But who's counting?"
She clucked her tongue. "You were strong…I wasn't worried."
"That was painfully obvious."
"Nice digs," she noted, looking around at the dismal gym. "But I guess it's a step up from being homeless."
"What do you want, Darla?" he growled as she strolled lazily around the room.
Darla smiled. "Well…you, of course."
Angel cocked his head. "Yeah, I've heard that. I'm not interested."
"You haven't even heard what I have to offer, lover."
"Doesn't matter."
"Doesn't it?" she asked, her tone indicating surprise, but her facial expression still dead serious. "I can only imagine how long these last hundred years have been. I've been living it to the hilt at the hand of the Master…you've been living on Skid Row with the whinos. I'd say I got the better deal."
"Things are changing," he growled, moving away from her as she continued to circle the room.
She laughed. "I can see that. You've got a friend now," she observed, glancing at Doyle. He swallowed, his expression steely. "How nice for you."
"How'd you find me? I haven't seen you in years."
She stopped in her tracks and turned to him. "That's the nice thing about magic, Angel. The Master is powerful in Sunnydale. It's on a Hellmouth, you know. And everyone there fears us…they do our bidding. A while ago I got it in my head to wonder where you might be…and a simple locator spell later…here I am. Thought I'd look you, for old times sake."
"You're wasting your time."
"Don't take that tone with me, Angelus," she snapped, losing her patience. "Enough of the chitchat. This is no life for you! We were once the most powerful vampires in all of Europe. Together. You were magnificent, nothing was too much for you! And look at you now! Souled…and pathetic. Do you enjoy living off rats? Never tasting hot, fresh, human blood?" She inched closer to him, finally running a finger down his neck. "Don't you miss…contact?" she purred suggestively. "The touch of another body…the sound of a friendly voice? I can give you that. There's a way. You can be the man you once were…powerful…in control…"
The temptation was there. It sang to him, called to his every being and the demon inside howled. She sensed that. "Yeeeess…" she hissed in his ear. "I can hear it too. You know where you belong. You know what you are. What you were…what you can still be."
"Angel, man, don't listen to her!" Doyle cried and Darla scowled at him. He glanced at her, nervously. "You know what I told you…you can become that guy without being an evil soul. You don't need her to be someone!"
Darla glared at him, then softened and turned back to Angel. "Angelus…don't you remember? All the times we shared…we can do that again…just the two of us…we'll leave the Master…ruin America, then return to our old stomping grounds and decimate towns…"
Angel closed his eyes against her words.
"We can kill the Slayer…I know where she is…"
Her words stirred something in him. The Powers had asked him to protect one Slayer, to fight at her side, and he'd ignored their call. Now he was here…with a second chance…
He threw her arm off his. "Leave, Darla," he ordered, pushing her back.
She stumbled. "What?!"
"I said leave. Don't bother me again," he growled, turning his back to her and picking up a gym towel.
"Angelus," she grinned. "You're not thinking! This is no life for you! You're nothing here! You are meant for so much better!"
He turned now. "That's what they tell me."
"I don't accept that. That—that's ludicrous. Angel…I'm offering you the world…what we once had--"
"Is over."
His tone was final, and his words hit her heart. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she closed it slowly and her eyes steeled. "Give it time, Angelus. You will come back to the fold. You won't make it like this…being noble isn't in you. It never was. You were weak when I found you, you're weak again." She turned on her heel and headed to the door. Looking back once, hate and regret mingling in her eyes, she told him, "You know where to find me."
Angel watched her go, a twinge of remorse hitting his heart.
"Woah…man, Angel. Are you okay? What a bitch!" Doyle gasped. "I mean, I've come across some girls with brass…yyeeoooww!" he screamed suddenly, clutching at the sides of his head as a vision came over him. It lasted a few moments and when the pain subsided he sunk to the ground. Angel, worried, knelt down next to him. Doyle's eyes opened wildly. "We gotta go."
*FLASH!*
"She's around here somewhere. It's an alley-way. I don't know which one, they all look alike," Doyle whispered as he and Angel walked the streets in search of Darla. "You'd think these soddin' visions could include a street sign or two once in a while."
"Dark-haired girl fighting for her life? That's what you saw?" Angel whispered back.
Doyle nodded. "Yeah, and an older woman. Fighting some antique-looking vampire and your sire."
"That shouldn't be too hard to miss." He glanced around when his ears suddenly perked up and he heard the sounds of fighting. "This way!" he called, running past Doyle and down a darkened street.
He rounded a corner a moment later, Doyle slightly farther behind, and found an athletic brunette standing in front of an older, slightly prim, woman. "Back off," the girl hissed.
Angel stepped off the sidewalk, still hidden by a parked car.
The vampire was huge, and he had company. Maybe half a dozen vampires were lingering near their boss. To his right, stood Darla. "I think I'll just go right through you," he growled and reached for the girl.
Darla smirked. "You never were one to wait, were you?"
"Faith!" the woman shouted as the girl flew into action. She had strength and speed like no one Angel had ever seen. Quickly the woman moved back, but was unable to escape with the minions hanging about.
"Don't go anywhere, sweetie!" Darla cried merrily.
"I think we've found our Slayer," Doyle whispered, watching wide-eyed as the girl fought the leader and still defended herself from the lackeys.
"And she's gonna need help," Angel told him, and jumped out into the street. Running towards the group he felt his energy kick up a notch. It had been so long since he'd engaged in a really good fight. Leaping into the fray he pulled a stake from his coat pocket and kicked out at one of the lingering vamps. Another rushed him and he whirled, bringing the stake up and dusting him, then ducking the punches of another.
"Angel!" Darla gasped, shocked yet not displeased. "Finally decided to come out and play?"
He smirked and shoved her out of the way. His sire landed on her rear, skidding across the pavement. "I'm ready if you are."
Darla, her pride hurt more than her posterior, got over it quickly and jumped to her feet. "You don't want to fight me."
"I think you'll find you don't know me as well as you used to."
Darla laughed. "Look at you! A few days with the Boy Scout and you're suddenly a righteous man?! It doesn't work that way Angelus. You and I have history. Involved for decades. That doesn't just go away. You can't kill me…and you won't fight me."
At that moment the Slayer spun and she noticed the newcomer. "Who are you?!" she shouted, kicking out and knocking a vamp into a dumpster. Two more vampires followed and Angel was distracted from Darla for a moment. "Later!" Angel shouted and tossed her his stake, which she brought up just in time to take out an oncoming foe.
Doyle, not one for battle, sneaked up the sidewalk and grabbed the woman, Faith's Watcher, and pulled her back to safety. "I'm thinking this'll be over in a second," he told her. They watched together, fascinated, as Angel grabbed the leader by his cloak and threw him backwards.
hr
"That's Kakistos!" Buffy cried, watching the younger Slayer do battle with the vampire she'd come to Sunnydale to escape. She turned to Angel. "You're helping her in Boston…Kakistos killed her Watcher."
hr
Kakistos was enraged at the help the Slayer was receiving and threw himself back into the battle, coming up behind Faith and picking her up, over his head. He launched her towards the wall of a nearby building and her body crumpled to the ground. Angel took out the last two vampires he was battling and ran to her aide.
"Here!" he shouted as Faith stood, shakily, and prepared to fight for her life as Kakistos advanced on her. The Slayer looked up at his shout and held up her hand, grabbing the broken broom handle he was tossing her way.
Faith plucked it out of the air and thrust it towards the demon's heart. It went in with a sickening sound, but he remained standing. Her eyes were wild as he laughed and moved towards her, arms outstretched. Angel could see her fear from his vantage point and ran, full speed towards the elder vampire. Leaping at the last second he kicked out with both legs as Faith continued to try and push the stake into Kakistos' heart. Together, it was enough. The impact of Angel's kick pushed the broom handle in, and the vampire was dust.
Darla looked from Angel to Faith with disgust. Letting out a shriek she ran at Angel.
"Faith!" her Watcher called, and tossed something through the air.
Faith caught it easily and brought the weapon up. Crossbow. Before Angel could stop her, the arrow went flying.
"No!" he cried, but the word died in the air, along with his sire. In a split second, she was dust. The last thing he saw was the surprise in her eyes that turned to terror as her form exploded around them.
He stood there, stunned.
When it cleared, Faith dropped the broom shakily. Looking up, brushing hair from her eyes, she asked, "Who the Hell are you? I mean…thanks…but…who the Hell are you?"
Angel glanced at Doyle and the Watcher. "We're friends," Doyle spoke up as Angel continued to stare at the spot Darla had been standing. "We…were sorta told to come here…and help you."
*FLASH!*
Boston, MA
Home of Sandra Porter, Watcher
"So, let me get this straight. You had a vision that I was in danger, so you two just packed up and headed out?" Faith asked, propping a leg up on the kitchen table. Sandra, her Watcher, gave her a disdainful look and the leg quickly came down.
Doyle nodded. "'Bout sums it up."
Sandra poured him more tea and watched Angel warily under her lids. For the past two hours the men had rehashed their story. The part about Angel being a vampire wasn't being taken too well, as expected.
"And you have a soul," Faith repeated for the tenth time that night.
Angel nodded. "Look, I know it's hard to believe…I still have trouble with it, and I've been living this way for the past hundred years."
"It's true that Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, disappeared off the map right around the turn of the century," Sandra told them. "I once wrote a conducted a class at the Council headquarters on the most dangerous vampires in history. You were number six."
Angel was not proud. "You can trust me or don't, I don't care. My mission, as it seems, was to come down here and help you. Which I've done. I think we're finished here."
"I'd agree, except for this vision I'm about to get…" Doyle said as he slammed his head down onto the kitchen table as the pain rocketed through him. When it was over he sat up, gasping. "Ready for another trip? Seems like the Powers That Be aren't going to be happy until you take a trek to Sunnydale."
*FLASH!*
"I still don't know why you insisted on coming," Angel grumbled as he, Faith and Doyle patrolled the unfamiliar streets of Sunnydale.
Faith bounced along side him, enthusiastic as ever. "Come on! A chance to see the coast, get some sun, check out an actual Hellmouth? Besides. You've been back in the game, what, a week? And suddenly you think you're capable of taking out this Master guy? I don't think so, beefcake."
He grimaced and consulted the directions in his hands. "Here…up ahead," he nodded in the direction of an apartment building. They walked to the door and knocked. A moment later it was opened by a middle-aged gentleman in glasses.
"Ah, Hello…you must be…you must be Faith and Doyle. And…Angelus," he said somewhat nervously in a soft British accent. "I'm Rupert Giles, please…ah…do come in."
Faith grinned. "Relax. He's housebroken," she said, jerking a thumb at Angel as she strolled inside. "Besides. You got me."
Mr. Giles gave her a bemused smile. "Please," he said, indicating his couch. They sat, and a redhead girl and two boys, all about high-school age, appeared in the doorway. "Ah, Willow…this is Willow, Oz, and Larry. We are, I'm afraid, all the help you'll receive in this town. Most of the other residents have been scared off. Willow's parents…our friends…I'm afraid most of the people we knew are either gone or dead."
Faith glanced at the timid girl. "Sorry…'bout your folks," she offered uncomfortably. "That sucks."
Willow shrugged and gave her a small smile. "S'ok. So…you're the Slayer. I knew a Slayer once. Buffy. She—she wasn't here long."
"Yeah…I heard. We're gonna take care of that little Master-problem you guys have," Faith told her. "Don't worry."
"I don't think you know what you're dealing with," Larry cut in.
"We've met before. The Master is my responsibility," Angel told them quietly. "It's complicated…to explain how I know this, but that much is true. I'll take him out for you…get things back to the way they should be."
"The way they should be?" Oz asked.
Angel nodded. "Like I said, complicated. But, trust me. Things are going to get better. I just need someone to show me where he is."
"I'll explain it while the two heroes are out there hunting down the bad guys," Doyle offered.
Willow stood up suddenly. "I've got it all here," she said, and walked to the laptop computer on Giles' dining room table. "Mapped out, so you'll know exactly where you're going, including all the exits and possible escapes through the sewers. If I were you…I'd walk around in vamp face. It'll make you less suspicious. Especially with her being around you," she said, nodding towards Faith.
"Sounds like you guys do a lot of this," Faith noted.
"Like I said, we've lost a lot of friends over the past year and a half," Giles repeated. "I stayed on…after my…after the Slayer was gone and the Master rose. Someone…well, someone had to do something, I suppose. The four of us…we do what we can, without looking for trouble. It's not much…but, I suppose it makes us feel we're making a difference. I don't know."
"We're going with you," Oz told Angel and Faith, nodding to Larry.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Faith began. "Slayers work alone."
"The last Slayer we knew worked alone and she's dead," Willow told the brunette sternly. "You want our help…we want to help."
Faith glanced at Angel, then shrugged. "Whatever. You guys got weapons?"
Larry opened the trunk before him, revealing an array of weaponry. Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Kickin'. I say we party."
*~*~*
The ragtag group headed out, in the direction of what Oz and Larry referred to as, "The Bronze."
"It used to be the local hot-spot, until the Master rose and made it his playground," Larry informed them as they walked. "He lives in the basement, which has open access to all the sewers. That's where we'll find him and his right-hand vamps."
"How many we talkin'?" Faith asked.
Oz shrugged. "How many are in an army, generally?"
Faith and Angel exchanged a glance and they rounded a corner. "Here we are," Oz murmured. "What's the plan?"
The Slayer checked out the scene. "Sun'll be up soon, so vamps should be heading off for beddy-bye. Good time to strike. We'll head in, take out what we can on the main floor. Work our way downstairs. The Master's Angel's fight, but I'm gonna be there," she told him, emphasizing her last words. "Things get rough, you can't expect me to back off. This guy has to be taken out no matter what."
Angel nodded. "Let's go. You two, stay back," he instructed Oz and Larry.
They entered the Bronze to find a few vamps lingering. Angel walked in first, morphing into vamp face before the door opened, and no one payed him any attention. The three humans behind him, however, were a different matter. Their scent was strong to vampire senses, even in the din of a nightclub, and instantly all eyes were on the newcomers.
"Dinner's here," one of them grinned, standing up from his seat at the bar and heading over to the small group. He was joined by several others.
"We got this," Faith whispered to Angel. "You get to the Master." She brightened then and spoke loud enough for the vampires to hear her. "This isn't the high school dance? Huh. Looks boring enough…our mistake."
The vampires neared and Faith grinned. "Go!" she shouted and jumped up, spinning and kicking out, knocking down three of the on-coming vamps. Oz and Larry pulled weapons from their coats and, with silent oaths, ran to help her as best they could. Angel scanned the room quickly and found the stairwell to the basement. He began working his way across the room, fighting off any vampires that happened to get in his way, and soon reached the stairs. Glancing back he saw that Faith and the others had control of the situation upstairs. It almost appeared that the Slayer was enjoying herself as he watched her deliver a series of one-two punches to a female vampire. He headed down into the dark.
Once in the basement he noted the storage room to his left and the completely out-of-place jail cell to his right, ignored them, and sniffed out the sewer entrance hidden behind some large packing crates. Gingerly he entered the tunnels, honing his senses, and began to pick his way towards the Master. Gut instinct directed him.
He walked for a few minutes until a tingling sensation started up his spine. He turned a corner and came face to face with an imperfect hole in the sewer walls. It went down. A moment later he was descending into the bowels of the Hellmouth. The grounds opened up into grand caverns, archaic and medieval. And lighted by torches. He was in the right spot.
Once he reached the bottom of the stairs he noted that while the caverns were lighted, and apparently occupied as his eyes gleaned over various furnishings, it was also empty of life. To the naked eye, that is. Everything in him screamed that he was in danger, that something lurked. He wasn't wrong.
"Ah…Angel," a deep voice called from the shadows.
Angel turned in the direction it came from, defenses up. "Been waiting for me?"
The voice laughed. "For years, as it were. The most savage creature I ever knew, and so useless with that hindrance of a soul." The Master stepped out of the dark, the candle light flickering over his wrinkled face. "Come back to beg my forgiveness, my prodigal son?"
"Hardly. But I think you know that," Angel sneered.
"Yes," the Master mused. "You've come to kill me. I see you've already had a hand in taking Darla from me…my most favorite childe…how could you, Angelus, really? She was your sire. That's the problem with the younger generations…no respect for your elders."
"Is this really necessary?" Angel asked. "You were never much on the banter, if I recall. Of course, I didn't really give you much of a chance to chitchat did I? No…I just swept in and collected Darla, took her right from your arms…showed her the world. Even after all these years…you know what she spoke of when we met the other day? Leaving you again, for me. Getting out from underneath your boot."
The Master snarled. "She was a fickle girl. Just as you are an arrogant being, Angelus. It's always been your problem, even then. You didn't want to obey your father, as you didn't want to obey me…grandfather. You could have learned so much…and yet."
"And yet," Angel acknowledged.
As was his nature, the Master changed topics. "Do you like this place? It's so much cozier than those catacombs…what…two-hundred years ago? It's hard to believe that's the last time we stood face to face. It's no more pleasant now than it was then, I'm afraid."
"Still living below ground…even in the town you," Angel made air-quotes with his fingers, "own."
"I choose to live away from what little human pestilence remains in this place," the Master countered, strolling casually around the rock formations. "And I like the acoustics here. You haven't lived until you've heard the Berlioz' Symphony Fantastique ricocheting off these walls." He paused, eyes ticking back to his Grandsire's. "You've come to kill me."
Angel shrugged. "Seems fitting…I killed my parents, my siblings…my sire…I figured I might as well round out the family tree and pay you a visit."
"Then we should get to it," the Master agreed, and sprang. Angel was ready for it and dodged him easily, turning and getting his footing on the loose rock. He produced the broadsword from beneath his duster, stabbing at the air as the Master danced out of the way, easily.
"It's been too long, Angelus, you're not ready."
"We'll see about that," he answered and swung the sword mightily. The fight moved around the large underground room, the sword in Angel's hand quickly putting the Master at a disadvantage. He thrust and drew first blood, slashing a line down the elder vampire's torso. The Master let out an outraged cry and stepped up his attack. Reaching his throne he ducked behind it and reappeared with his own weapon, a gleaming rapier, grinning as he brought it up suddenly. The playing field was now leveled.
The fight continued with wild and graceful thrusts of the sword, all of Angel's training come back to him in an instant and he moved around the room with precision and vigor, countering the Master's thrusts.
"You've remembered the old ways," the Master noted as he whipped around and almost took off Angel's arm.
Angel didn't answer him with words, instead he dodged the blade of the Master's sword and spun, kicking out and knocking the Master's feet out from under him. He fell to the ground with a crash and rolled to one side, pushing himself up and bringing his arm over his head, blocking Angel's broadsword that was being brought down with mighty strength.
He shoved Angel off and spun, pushing Angel back. The ground they were standing on ended suddenly, dipping down to a lower part of the cavern, and Angel was forced to flip backwards to avoid the swiping blade. He stumbled as he landed and fell to the ground. The Master flew to his side and raised the blade, ready to take off Angel's head when the younger vampire rolled quickly and grabbed the leg of a standing lantern. He pulled it down, crashing it into the Master. Sparks and hot ash flew, burning him, and the Master let out a howl of pain while Angel got to his feet, looking around wildly for the sword that had been knocked from his hand.
"Here!" a voice cried and Angel looked up to see Faith, Oz and Larry standing at the bottom of the stairwell. Faith had his sword in her hand and threw it end over end. Angel caught it gracefully and swooped around like a dancer, bringing the sword up as he did. It caught the Master's neck, and in a moment it was over.
*~*~*
"Wow," Buffy gasped.
"Well done," Giles commended Angel quietly.
"So, let me get this straight," Gunn began. "Buffy was supposed to kill the Master--"
"I did," she told him. "Here, anyway."
"But since you didn't, he rose, killed half your friends, and set up show in Sunnydale. Meanwhile, Angel's living small in NYC…and when he finally gets his act together, he decides to make things right by going back to Sunnydale and doing what should have been done in the first place."
Dawn nodded. "I think that's about it."
"It's not done though…look," Tara told them, pointing to the flames.
*~*~*
*FLASH!*
"So…what now?" Doyle asked Angel as they sat in their hotel room. Blaring music came from the room next door, the indication that Faith was back from reporting the night's events to her Watcher and to Mr. Giles.
Angel shrugged. "I really don't know…" he said with a sheepish smile. "My entire life has changed in a week. After a hundred years of pretty much doing nothing but feeling sorry for myself…"
"And sitting on yer ass," Doyle pointed out good-naturedly.
"And…that," Angel admitted. "I really don't know."
"Well…have ya given much thought to stayin' out here? It's a Hellmouth. Probably lots of action. Some atoning you could be doin'."
Angel shrugged again. "I don't know…with the Master gone…I think a lot of the vamps will take off. That seems to happen when a leader goes down, I've seen it. And with the big threat gone, I think Mr. Giles and the others can handle things."
The pounding base next door ended abruptly and was followed by the slamming of a door. A moment later a knock sounded on theirs and the door opened. Faith sauntered in and plopped down on one of the beds. "What's the what? You guys look wicked serious."
"Just tryin' to figure out what's the next step, Slayeress," Doyle told her, his eyes twinkling.
"Ahh…what'd ya come up with?"
"Well…I was thinkin' 'bout heading back to LA. I was only in New York to find this guy. Don't know what he's gonna do. How about you?"
She shrugged. "Back to Boston. Got my thing there. But ya know…if you're ever in the neighborhood…" she offered. She glanced at Angel. "You gonna stay here?"
Angel looked up at her and shook his head. "Whatever I was supposed to do here is done…passed." He turned to Doyle. "You said, back in New York, that eventually I'd leave this place and move on, take the fight somewhere else. Where did I go?'
Doyle nodded. "LA."
*FLASH!*
Los Angeles, April, 1999
"Where did you say this demon was going to appear?" Angel asked Doyle, whirling around in the dark, trying to keep his senses open and on alert.
"I'm telling you! It's right here! The corner of Madison and Seal! That snot-nosed pus-demon is going to step out of one of these alleys and take out an entire group of…gang…members…" his words died in his throat as he noticed they were no longer alone. From all sides had appeared tough-looking street kids. One of them stepped up.
"Can we help you?" he asked snidely.
Angel and Doyle exchanged a glance. "Uh…yeah. Any of you seen a Sitar demon around here?" Angel ventured.
The man looked back at his friends, then turned back to the duo. "You mean that nasty-looking thing behind you, about ready to bite your heads off?"
Angel and Doyle slowly turned and found themselves face to face with the demon in question. They jumped back, even with the black man. He grinned. "Don't worry. Name's Gunn. This is my crew. I figure you guys are in the trade, if you know this thing by name…but we'll skip past the formalities at the moment and just get to the killin', if you don't mind."
Angel reached under his duster and pulled out his broadsword. Gunn admired it for a moment. "Guess you don't."
*~*~*
"Wow," Dawn repeated, for maybe the hundredth time that night.
Gunn grinned. "I just can't get away from you, can I?" he teased his friend.
"I can't believe…I mean, I knew you were all…important, prophecy guy…but jeez…what's the body count at now?" Cordelia gasped. "Me, Xander, Jesse, Buffy, Darla, the Master…not that those last two are bad things."
"Wesley wasn't even there…none of us were," Anya pointed out, looking from Wesley to Tara to Dawn and Spike.
"I guess it's not necessary for me to tell you what I choose," Angel said quietly, moved beyond belief at the impact he alone would have had on the lives of those he held dear. "But thank you…for showing me. I've always wondered."
Jackter stepped up and faced Buffy. "You are next."
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TAKE THE CHALLENGE!! Like The Road Not Taken? Then check out the fiction challenge inspired by that story!
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