Part 14

"What exactly are we doing today?" Faith asked suddenly. They were on their way the next morning to places unknown to do God-knows-what.

"Are we going shopping?" Cordelia piped up.

"Yeah, I'll drop you guys off and then I have to record this thing for MTV. It won't take long. I've only got enough passes for Gunn and, well, one extra guest. That equals two. Present company equals six and that doesn't work out." Buffy said as she sifted through her bag for her elusive MTV passes.

"What about you?" Angel asked.

Buffy shot him a Look. "I don't really need one."

"Oh."

"Damn, that really bites, you know. You're gonna ask Angel to be your 'guest' and I'm gonna be stuck with tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum," Spike said angrily.

"Hey!" Faith and Cordelia exclaimed in unison, the former giving him a punch in the arm and the latter giving him a kick in the shins.

"Can I pass on MTV?" Gunn asked Buffy. "I know I'm supposed to be your bodyguard and all, but Angel's a big strong football playing guy. You'll manage. I'm afraid I have to save Spike from an untimely death." Cordelia responded by giving him a dirty look followed by a painful nudge from her elbow.

"Sure, if you want," Buffy answered as she kept rummaging through her bag. "Aha!" She pulled out Angel's pass and a small container of Vaseline.

"Why are you going to the MTV studio anyway?" Angel asked, accepting his pass and watching her curiously as she procured a small mirror from one of the many knick-knacky compartments and drawers built into the limo.

"I have to tape my acceptance thing for the VMA's cos I couldn't go to New York. I have a test on Monday," Buffy said calmly as she applied the Vaseline on her lips.

Spike choked. He coughed several times before he could talk properly. "VMA's? What did you win?"

"I can't tell you. I'm sworn to secrecy."

*****

Upon opening the door to the studio, Angel didn't know what to expect. He was shocked to find that the small studio was...so small. It looked cosy and comfortable in the reception area with a few orange sofas spread around the edges of the room and an odd looking table with a receptionist sitting behind it. Said receptionist looked up and said, "Go right in. They're expecting you."

Buffy thanked her and lead Angel into the dimly lit halls. The floors were wooden and made disturbingly loud sounds when they walked. They passed a few doors—all of different types and degrees of eccentricity—as they moved through the production office hallway. A few of the noticeboards on the walls displayed photos of celebrities who had been in lately (all candid and crazy snaps of the celebs when they were a little less down to business). The hall wasn't all that long; Angel felt as if it seemed to go on forever.

Finally, they turned right and passed by a few doors with pictures with elaborate vintage-style frames and a department name written underneath each picture. A door marked 'Make Up 4' was busy with the make up artists working away at what they did best. They passed by a mirror with what looked like old make up and hair products stuck all over it to reveal a picture formed by the uncovered parts of the mirror that appeared to be the MTV logo.

They passed by the infamous 'Paparazzi in a Can' photo booth which made Angel want to blink a few more times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But sure enough, there it was. Standing in all its purple glory. He decided later that the people at MTV must be either: a) creative, b) artsy, c) eccentric or d) strange. He hoped to God that it was a).

Finally, the hallway opened up to a plain, white door with a sign on it that said 'Green Room'. A huge security guy stood on one side of the door and had a walkie-talkie-like contraption gripped in his large fist. He looked to Angel to be the sort who would've been a jailbird for part of his life, or a boxer. Or maybe a WWE wrestler.

Angel felt a bit awkward when the security guy smiled at them and said, "Hello, Miss Summers...and company. They're waiting for you inside." He pushed the door partway opened for them to step through.

"Thanks," she looked at his nametag, "Max." She stopped halfway through the door, causing Angel to bump into her—not that he minded—and looked back at Max. "Have I seen you before? Oh wait, don't answer that. I *know* I've seen you before."

"I was one of the security guys who were part of the security crew on your last tour. It was a pleasure working with you, might I add," Max said, almost curtly. Angel was left puzzled. This big guy who looked suspiciously like a biker-type of guy was talking *curtly*. What was even stranger was that he had a vaguely English accent. He would have dropped to the floor, rolling with laughter if his manners were non-existent and if the guy didn't look so...well, no need to say 'threatening' since Angel *certainly* wasn't threatened, but...

"Oh my God, how could I have forgotten? I like you. You didn't eat all the jelly donuts like the rest of them," Buffy chuckled.

Max laughed with her and said, "I liked the chocolate icing ones better than the jellies."

"Oh, gosh, I think we're running late," she said, looking at her watch hurriedly. "I hope I'll see you again, Max."

They bid their farewells and as soon as he stepped through, Angel was surprised by the smallness of the room. There were people all over the place, preparing the lighting and the assorted equipment. It was most intriguing for Angel to witness as he always watched MTV whenever possible—after school, while studying, when he was bored—that is to say, all the time.

"I'm going to get my make up done. Are you alright to stay here?" Buffy asked, looking past him to see one of the ladies from the make up department waiting patiently at the door.

"Sure. I'll just...sit," Angel replied, sinking into one of the nearby chairs. **Okay, so the Green Room isn't green. Is it too late to change my mind and pick d)?**

Sure enough, the Green Room was far from green. It was white, or maybe some other colour. The lights were pink and yellow, leaving the colour of anything in there to the imagination. A TV ran on the other side of the room showing random music videos. Angel guessed that the TV was permanently tuned only to MTV. In the corner next to it was a computer and next to that, against the wall was a velvety red couch. In front of the couch was a small round table with a blackboard surface with all sorts of things written in chalk.

Angel froze and wondered if he could be any more starstruck than he currently was.

*****

Buffy gripped onto her silver moon man as they ran a few practice shots. **Thank God I'm not doing it live...** She looked up and grinned over at her boyfriend who was standing quietly in the corner nibbling on one of the tiny salad sandwiches that the catering company had provided for brunch.

He smiled back, holding up Spike's autograph book in his other hand. He'd been forced to get as many autographs as he could—anything and anyone was fine with Spike. If he could only get the paw print of the camera man's sister's dog, then so be it. However, if he could get someone famous...then Angel would have to endure the horror of seeing and experiencing his stepbrother putting on some of his girlfriend's dark lipstick and giving him a BIG kiss on the cheek.

Buffy relaxed into the cushions on the velvety red sofa and wished she could have just done the whole thing in the safety of her own home. At least then she wouldn't have to have pink, red and yellow lights all over the place to make her resemble a tomato with pink hair and a yellow nose.

After they were done filming Buffy's acceptance speeches, she was lead (reluctantly) into the photo booth. When she finally agreed, she said, "Fine, but you, Angel, have to take at least one shot with me."

And so that's how Angel found himself sitting in the 'Paparazzi in a Can' booth with Buffy to take two shots—one normal one where Buffy sat herself in Angel's lap and one crazy one where Angel pretended that he was having sex with her against the side of the booth. A copy of the strip made its way to become tacked onto one of the noticeboards where all the other were kept and the second copy was for them to keep.

*****

Later that night, they sat down to watch the VMA's in the comfort of Buffy's parents' home with the rest of the group, all of Buffy's family and her three new moon men in her awards cabinet. The rest of her awards were kept there and hadn't made the move to Sunnydale and probably never would because her mother and sister *insisted* that they should stay "in case they got broken or damaged during the trip". They each had a bowl of ice cream in their hands—excluding Cordelia as she'd said that it was bad for her skin—and were enjoying the company of each other. The only one who wasn't there was Gunn, who had gone to visit his family.

During the course of the afternoon, they had hung out, shopped and just had fun. They'd laughed over the photos and enjoyed the cuisine of Los Angeles' most exclusive restaurants. Spike had met Billy Idol by coincidence and had had his picture taken with him. However, Buffy had an inkling that Billy thought that Spike was either a look-alike/impostor or a wannabe when, in fact, Spike had had an accident with bleach which hadn't yet gone away. It was almost like a superhero storyline, like when Spiderman got bitten by a genetically modified spider, except that it'd make Spike something like...Bleachboy, which would've been laughable if it weren't so sad.

Angel had also discovered that he really HAD gotten a funny tan from Buffy lying on him in full sunshine the day before. Buffy had laughed at him and his predicament until he'd glared at her. She'd told him not to glare because it made him look rather sexy and made her want to kiss him in public, which she was forbidden to do because Lilah, her publicist, had said it would spark rumours. (She kissed him later when they got back home.) In all truth, though, Buffy didn't really give a rat's ass about what Lilah ever had to say.

They were scheduled to leave for Sunnydale in an hour; as soon as Gunn got back. It would give them enough time to watch some of the awards and to finish their desserts. Cookie dough fudge mint chip just didn't taste the same when rushed.

There was a rustle in the bushes, capturing their attention. Just as suddenly, a light appeared from within the bushes outside the window and a green glass bottle with a rag at the end which was alight with a flame was thrown at the window—a Molotov cocktail.

Fortunately, it wasn't thrown hard enough to smash through the window, but the explosion that resulted blew apart the window and the bushes in front of it as well as part of the room. Angel instinctively pulled Buffy to him to protect her from the flames. Hank and Joyce ran into the laundry to fetch some buckets to fill with water and Faith had sprung to her feet and immediately called 911.

Angel spotted a figure darting through the trees that stood on either side of the driveway. He released Buffy and flew out the door. He ran faster than he had ever run before—even when he was playing football—and, by some miracle, he was able to pull the culprit to the ground. They struggled, but Angel was able to get the upper hand. **I guess coach was right. I *did* need to work out. And hey, it came in handy.**

He pressed the guy's head to the ground, held his hands behind his back and used his leg to stop him from kicking. Angel saw Buffy jogging toward them with a hand over her mouth in shock.

"Are you alright?" Angel asked Buffy in concern.

"Yeah, the fire didn't spread. Turns out my mother is prepared for anything. The bushes under the window were rubber plants—lots less flammable than posies. Rubber plants as in the plants that produce rubber naturally...you know," Buffy smiled, kneeling down next to them. She took one look at the culprit's crop of blonde-brown hair and said, "Riley?"

Angel looked up at his girlfriend in surprise. **She knows the guy?**

"You idiot! What were you thinking?" Buffy scolded Riley. She pried Angel off of Riley's body and made him stand up—then she punched him, hard, in the nose. "I told you to leave me *alone*! And now what? You show up trying to blow up my house? And don't go thinking I won't press charges."

"No, but—" Riley started to say in his own defense.

"I don't want to hear it."

"Okay then, that hurt," Riley said, rubbing his nose.

Buffy just rolled her eyes and looked over at her completely baffled boyfriend. She beamed at him and then turned back to Riley to give him his just desserts—a nice, big, knee to the groin. He crumpled to the ground, clutching to a nearby tree to steady himself.

"Buffy, Warrior Popstar," Angel said with a smirk at the traumatised boy crumpled against a tree, forcing down the pain by biting his lip.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Buffy replied with a slightly amused smile.

"Okay, now that we've laughed about it—what do we do?"

"Faith called 911. The police are probably coming..." Buffy said calmly.

"Won't they want to hold us for questioning? We can't stay. We have school tomorrow."

Buffy just smiled at his concern, "Don't worry. We have a restraining order on *this* little sucker. I don't think it'll be a problem since he's such an honest kind of guy. Aren'tcha, Ri?"

"Okay, then I think we should get...this...Riley inside," Angel said, unsure of the name of the collapsed form which he was looking down at.

"I agree," Buffy nodded. Spike and Faith had come from behind her and had heard part of the conversation. Buffy looked over at them said, "Don't worry. He's actually quite co-operative. He can't run fast enough if his life depended on it, anyway."

"Thanks for telling everyone that."

"You're welcome."

"Maybe we should hold your hands behind your back, just in case," Angel suggested.

"Oh joy...I'm a criminal again."

"You brought it on yourself."

Riley snorted, "You *always* say that..."

"Tell me. How does a fairly good guy like you suddenly become a repeat offender? I knew your mother. She was a nice woman; your father as well. What happened to you?" Buffy asked, as the five of them headed back toward the house with Angel holding Riley's hands behind his back.

"You dumped me for Tyler and then he went and cheated on you with your best friend. A little birdie told me you forgave them both. What about me, Buffy? What about ME?" Riley said bitterly, straining against Angel's hold on him.

Before Buffy was able to deny it though, her driveway was suddenly bombarded by officials and men in uniform. The firemen put out what little fire was left and police had taken Riley and shoved him into one of their cars. Buffy didn't have any comprehension of time as she watched as he was taken away. She was finally jolted out of her trance by a comforting hand on her shoulder—Angel.

"Ready to go?" he spoke softly...sympathetically as well, Buffy decided.

"Are we going already?"

"Gunn got back about ten minutes ago. The car's ready. You've been standing here the whole time. We thought it'd be best if we left you alone for awhile."

"I told them that I didn't want to press charges," Buffy said, even though it was irrelevant to what Angel had been saying. "I think we should go now." She took his arm and together they headed back into the house. "Do you think my moon men melted?"

Angel just laughed and gave her a gentle, reassuring kiss to her forehead. "Those moon men are still safe and sound on their wooden moon bases. I'm sure of it."

Another unofficial AN: Thanks for all your ideas. I tried to use as many as I could. I'm no longer accepting more ideas cos the stuff that happens after this has already sort of been planned. (And no, not telling.) I did at least an hour of research on MTV and the VMA's since I don't get MTV AT ALL. And I know nothing about any of that stuff. And, btw, a Molotov cocktail is a bottle with flammable liquid (usually kerosene or petrol) with a doused rag stuffed into it and lit like a wick. It explodes like a small grenade. If you've read any of the BtVS novels, I think Chris Golden is the one who writes Angel with a Molotov cocktail.