Although almost certain Buffy was dead, Angelus strained
his senses and made out the very faint heartbeat coming
from the bed. He still couldn't believe Penn had dared to
abduct and mutilate his Buffy but at least he hadn't
finished the job. Still, Angelus had to work fast or it
would too late after all. He rushed over to the bed and
gently touched Buffy's face in one of the few undamaged
areas. Penn's trademark cross was carved into the delicate
flesh of Buffy's left cheek, both of her eyes were blackened,
her nose was swollen, and her forehead was cut. The rest of
her body, though mostly covered by the white negligee,
probably looked little better.
Angelus reached down and carefully eased the railroad
spike out of her stomach. It had clearly been a message for
his companion, which meant Penn had been keeping tabs on
him recently to know Spike was around. Tossing the spike
onto the floor, Angelus turned back to Buffy. Penn's teeth
marks were dotted along her throat like pinpricks. Angelus
bristled at the insults, but he didn't have time to dwell on
his hurt pride. Instead he morphed and sank his fangs into
Buffy's jugular, only too aware that she had little blood left
to lose. What remained still tasted hot and heavy, almost
overcoming his senses with its tang.
After a disturbingly small number of gulps, Angelus made himself
stop drinking, raised his wrist to his mouth, and slit it with a
fang. A small but steady stream of blood dripped down his arm.
Angelus positioned Buffy and pressed the open wound to her lips.
At first she didn't stir. Then, as Angelus continued his
efforts, Buffy began to respond. Her throat worked and she
swallowed her first mouthful. Angelus felt a surge of relief
when she continued to drink more readily. Finally, he decided
she had taken enough and he withdrew, settling Buffy back
against the pillows. She should be all right, even better than
before, but it had been a close call.
Spike was still in the room, silent for once as he observed
the events. "I want to change her out of this thing," Angelus
said, indicating the blood-soaked negligee. "Cordelia's stuff
is still around. Pick out something and bring it back."
Spike nodded and left, knowing the location of Cordelia's old
quarters from his exploration of the hotel over the last few
days. While he was gone Angelus tidied up the room a bit and
then picked up Buffy. He was going to move her to a different
bed, one that didn't reek of her own blood. In the hallway he
met up with Spike, who followed him several doors down to a
suitable room with cover from the sun. Angelus lay Buffy down,
changed her into the new nightgown provided by Spike, and left
her inside. It would be hours before she arose to start her new
life.
Down in the lobby, Angelus and Spike set about getting rid of
Penn's handiwork. Angelus hauled the roses out to the corner
trash himself, unwilling to look at them for one more second.
Then he went back inside to join Spike. All he could now was
wait. He began to pace nervously, thinking of all that could go
wrong. Maybe he hadn't given Buffy enough blood. Maybe it was
impossible to turn a slayer and she would never wake up. "It
wasn't supposed to be like this," he muttered.
"What?" Spike asked.
"I should have figured it out sooner," Angelus elaborated,
walking in choppy strides. "Penn sent me enough clues. But I
had to wait until the last one to figure it out."
Spike wisely kept out of Angelus' way. He had never seen his
sire in such a rage and could only imagine how much worse it
would be if he hadn't managed to reach Buffy in time. Angelus
had been so desperate to save her, he'd practically willed his
blood down her throat.
"I wonder if he's outside right now, watching for my reaction,"
Angelus continued, looking toward the door. "Bastard must be
laughing himself sick."
He continued to rant and curse as night turned into day. Spike
eventually managed to persuade him to settle down and have some
bagged blood so he could regain some of his strength, but
nothing could convince Angelus to go to sleep for even a second
before Buffy woke up. He had to be there to greet her.
More time passed. Angelus began to pace again, back and forth
across the lobby. "I am going to track Penn down if it takes
me the next century. And when I find him, he'll wish he'd
never been turned. I'll tie his intestines in knots. I'll
amputate each of his limbs, slowly. Then I'll turn his stomach
inside out and pull his lungs out of his mouth before I rip
them in half. After that-"
"Don't I get to have any of the fun?" a familiar voice
interrupted.
Angelus and Spike whipped their heads around to see the newly
vamped Buffy poised at the top of the stairs, grinning around
her fangs.
his senses and made out the very faint heartbeat coming
from the bed. He still couldn't believe Penn had dared to
abduct and mutilate his Buffy but at least he hadn't
finished the job. Still, Angelus had to work fast or it
would too late after all. He rushed over to the bed and
gently touched Buffy's face in one of the few undamaged
areas. Penn's trademark cross was carved into the delicate
flesh of Buffy's left cheek, both of her eyes were blackened,
her nose was swollen, and her forehead was cut. The rest of
her body, though mostly covered by the white negligee,
probably looked little better.
Angelus reached down and carefully eased the railroad
spike out of her stomach. It had clearly been a message for
his companion, which meant Penn had been keeping tabs on
him recently to know Spike was around. Tossing the spike
onto the floor, Angelus turned back to Buffy. Penn's teeth
marks were dotted along her throat like pinpricks. Angelus
bristled at the insults, but he didn't have time to dwell on
his hurt pride. Instead he morphed and sank his fangs into
Buffy's jugular, only too aware that she had little blood left
to lose. What remained still tasted hot and heavy, almost
overcoming his senses with its tang.
After a disturbingly small number of gulps, Angelus made himself
stop drinking, raised his wrist to his mouth, and slit it with a
fang. A small but steady stream of blood dripped down his arm.
Angelus positioned Buffy and pressed the open wound to her lips.
At first she didn't stir. Then, as Angelus continued his
efforts, Buffy began to respond. Her throat worked and she
swallowed her first mouthful. Angelus felt a surge of relief
when she continued to drink more readily. Finally, he decided
she had taken enough and he withdrew, settling Buffy back
against the pillows. She should be all right, even better than
before, but it had been a close call.
Spike was still in the room, silent for once as he observed
the events. "I want to change her out of this thing," Angelus
said, indicating the blood-soaked negligee. "Cordelia's stuff
is still around. Pick out something and bring it back."
Spike nodded and left, knowing the location of Cordelia's old
quarters from his exploration of the hotel over the last few
days. While he was gone Angelus tidied up the room a bit and
then picked up Buffy. He was going to move her to a different
bed, one that didn't reek of her own blood. In the hallway he
met up with Spike, who followed him several doors down to a
suitable room with cover from the sun. Angelus lay Buffy down,
changed her into the new nightgown provided by Spike, and left
her inside. It would be hours before she arose to start her new
life.
Down in the lobby, Angelus and Spike set about getting rid of
Penn's handiwork. Angelus hauled the roses out to the corner
trash himself, unwilling to look at them for one more second.
Then he went back inside to join Spike. All he could now was
wait. He began to pace nervously, thinking of all that could go
wrong. Maybe he hadn't given Buffy enough blood. Maybe it was
impossible to turn a slayer and she would never wake up. "It
wasn't supposed to be like this," he muttered.
"What?" Spike asked.
"I should have figured it out sooner," Angelus elaborated,
walking in choppy strides. "Penn sent me enough clues. But I
had to wait until the last one to figure it out."
Spike wisely kept out of Angelus' way. He had never seen his
sire in such a rage and could only imagine how much worse it
would be if he hadn't managed to reach Buffy in time. Angelus
had been so desperate to save her, he'd practically willed his
blood down her throat.
"I wonder if he's outside right now, watching for my reaction,"
Angelus continued, looking toward the door. "Bastard must be
laughing himself sick."
He continued to rant and curse as night turned into day. Spike
eventually managed to persuade him to settle down and have some
bagged blood so he could regain some of his strength, but
nothing could convince Angelus to go to sleep for even a second
before Buffy woke up. He had to be there to greet her.
More time passed. Angelus began to pace again, back and forth
across the lobby. "I am going to track Penn down if it takes
me the next century. And when I find him, he'll wish he'd
never been turned. I'll tie his intestines in knots. I'll
amputate each of his limbs, slowly. Then I'll turn his stomach
inside out and pull his lungs out of his mouth before I rip
them in half. After that-"
"Don't I get to have any of the fun?" a familiar voice
interrupted.
Angelus and Spike whipped their heads around to see the newly
vamped Buffy poised at the top of the stairs, grinning around
her fangs.
