The Devil's Workshop
By iyaorisha
Timing: AU S7 BtVS and AU S4 AtS
Pairings: Buffy/Spike, Angel/Cordy, Xander/Anya, Willow/other and Wesley/other.
Summary: Buffy and Spike's fragile new relationship is tested when Angel returns to Sunnydale, bringing with him a mysterious young woman from Spike's dark past. (Revised, with chapter titles!)
(This fic is part one of a yet-untitled series in progress. It can be read on its own or after my "Unmoved" series -four linked fics that chronicle my take on reensouled Spike's return to Sunnydale)
Rating/Warnings: R for violence, language, M/F sexual situations, and self-mutiliation.
Spoilers: None if you've seen S6 of BtVS and up through "Deep Down" in Ats S4. Spoilers for my "Unmoved" fanfic series. References to FFL, the trade novels "Pretty Maids All in a Row" and "Little Things", and my fanfic "Relating to a Psychopath.
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS or AtS characters or the world they inhabit belong to me. They belong to Joss and I promise to put them back when I'm done playing with them. Chapter 1 title is from "Clocks" by Coldplay.
Author's Note: Reading (and for me, writing) Buffyverse fanfiction is a great form of escapism. Unfortunately, "cutting" or self-mutilation is a very real and terribly serious disorder that affects as many as one out of every 200 adolescent girls in the U.S. If you or someone that you know practices "cutting", please seek help from your local medical/mental health expert.
Feedback: My first BtVs/AtS fanfic! Brutal honesty is best (I enjoy floggings, I really do), but warm fuzzies are accepted as well. You can post a review here or email me at fanfic_by_iyaorisha@yahoo.com
***
Chapter 1: A Trouble That Can't Be Named
Dawn wondered how old she'd be before she learned that mixing your favorite foods together usually didn't end well. She sighed and turned on the faucet to wash the pepperoni omelet down the garbage disposal. As the device whirred, she thought that she heard the doorbell ring. When she flicked the switch off, there was another urgent buzz
"Hold on," she called out. Buffy must have left her keys again. Her sister was doing that a lot lately -misplacing little things and forgetting appointments. As she opened the door, Dawn prepared to chide her sister.
To her shock, Angel stood there.
As she gaped at him, a wry smile twisted his mouth. "Are you going to let me in, Dawn? Or are you waiting for the sun to get any higher?" The tall vampire was hunched under a thick wool blanket, but wisps of smoke were already beginning to curl upward from his clothing.
"Oh!" Dawn stammered. "Yes, come in. Sorry, I forgot!" The teen moved out of the way and Angel gratefully stepped inside. Dawn pushed the door to shut it, but the swinging motion was cut short. She looked back in surprise to see a tall, dark-haired man that she didn't know. He was standing with one foot on sill blocking the door. She couldn't see all of his body, but the narrow opening showed a lean, stubble-darkened face with haunted eyes. Like Angel, the stranger was draped in a heavy blanket.
"Angel?!" Dawn called anxiously.
Too busy scanning the room, the vampire didn't turn. "It's okay. He's with me. Let him in."
Dawn smiled sheepishly at the stranger. "I apologize. You are invited to enter."
His eyes showed a trace of amusement. "I don't need an invitation," he paused. "But I wouldn't mind a hand with the door. My arms are full."
So he's human, she thought as she pulled the door fully open. As he entered, the man nodded his head in thanks, but Dawn didn't see the gesture. Instead, she looked at his burden -a body-shaped bundle of blanket. When laid upon the sofa, the blanket fell aside to reveal a young woman. Her eyes were heavily fringed with dark lashes and the same dark grey as the wool she had been swathed in. They would have been arresting if they hadn't been lifeless.
Dawn stepped back. "Is she dead?" she gasped.
"If only it was that simple." Angel's companion said as he arranged the young woman's form to a half-sitting position. In a gesture that was odd contrast to his brusque tone, he gently slipped a pillow beneath her head. The blankness of the young woman's eyes did not change in the slightest.
The younger Summers stared. If this young woman wasn't dead, what did her utterly expressionless face mean? Dawn's voice betrayed her rising panic. "Angel, what is going on?"
"Where's your sister?" was his only reply.
***
Xander's heart pounded in his chest as he ran. He entered thoughts of just giving up, but then there was Anya and Willow to consider. How could he stop after all they had been through? After all, they had taken a two-hour power yoga class the night before.
Why had he volunteered to accompany them? He never worked out with Buffy. Not when they were in high school and certainly not now that Giles was training her harder than ever.
Xander couldn't understand why Anya and Willow were out running either. Anya had excellent metabolism and naturally superb muscle tone thanks to her demonhood. Willow had never been athletic and loathed sweating. But lately, both had taken up a particularly strenuous form of yoga. Then they had started running with Buffy in the mornings. After a couple weeks, Dawn joined in so that early risers were treated to a quartet of attractive young women moving through the streets of Sunnydale like gazelles.
This morning, bleary with sleep, Xander watched Anya step into her white New Balance running shoes. He lazily stretched an arm out and caressed one rounded buttock through her jersey running pants. She swatted his hand away with a promise of "Later". He complained that, as usual she'd linger at Buffy's after the run and then head to the Magic Box to open for Giles. "I should go along," he threatened idly. "Make sure you get back here in time to make love." It was meant to be sort of joke.
Unfortunately, that sort of joke was the kind Anya always seemed to not get. It turned out that Dawn was feeling a bit under the weather and decided to ignore Buffy's 5:30 AM wake-up call. The girls would love his company.
So, now, he was out running with them. Not nearly as graceful a runner as even Dawnie. And more than a little resentful that he was struggling to keep up. Falling far behind Buffy, he could understand. No one else human had that kind of speed and stamina. But Anya and Willow? Especially after the workout they got from Geetha three nights a week.
It wasn't like he was out of shape. Xander made sure to hit the gym at least four times a week to keep his frame from returning to the flab he'd picked up around the time of the not-wedding. In some ways, he was in the peak physical condition of his life. But, the girls were running as if they were Olympic champions.
Why? The part of Alexander Lavelle Harris's mind that handled despising magick and keeping a jaundiced eye on the evil that fueled the Hellmouth was deeply worried about this sudden fitness craze. Were they unconsciously training to run away from something?
Before he could ponder this disturbing possibility further, they turned the corner and were finally back on Revello Drive. When they were less than two blocks away from the Summers' house, Buffy's pace changed. At first, he thought that she was slowing instinctively, then he saw that she was staring at a strange vehicle parked in front of her house. The blonde sped up again. She sprinted across the street and cut through three front lawns to reach her door.
***
Dawn barely had time to react, but Angel and Wesley both fell into fighting stances as the front door burst open.
Her sister stood there panting, her own petite body poised to fight.
Then, there were twin blurs as the Slayer and vampire moved toward each other. It was less an embrace than a dance. Then, reality sunk in and both were sober as Angel set Buffy on her feet. She stepped back and awkwardly pushed loose strands of damp hair back from her sweat-shiny face.
"Angel." Buffy turned her head. "Wesley."
The dark haired stranger held out his hand. "Good to see you, Buffy." They shook hands. "How's Giles?"
"He's well." She paused. "I'd say that he'll be pleased to see you. But that would be a lie. The two of you wouldn't come to Sunnydale if there wasn't trouble."
Neither man bothered to deny it. Buffy knew they wouldn't, but still her shoulders fell a little. She was so tired. Would it hurt for things to lay quiet for a few months?
There was a sudden staccato of sneezing. The Slayer glanced at the sofa where the young woman lay. "You brought a guest."
Wesley nodded.
"Is she the trouble?"
"Yes." Angel replied.
Wes shot him an angry glance, but the vampire didn't notice. Angel looked at Buffy.
"We need to find Spike."
***
Three exhausted Scoobies staggered in just in time to hear Angel's last words. The vampire barely turned his head, but he did roll his eyes at the racket Xander made falling to the floor.
"Why do you need to find Spike?" Dawn asked.
Wes turned to her "Do you know where he is?"
"He's not here."
"I know. But," the vampire paused and his nostrils flared. "He's been here recently. Why?"
Dawn opened her mouth, but the look on Buffy's face stopped her. "Why are you looking for Spike?" her sister demanded.
"I'll tell you later." Angel said.
"You'll tell me now." Buffy replied.
Angel ignored her and walked over to the door where Anya was helping Xander stand. "Anya." He said quietly. Then, his upper lip twitched as he caught her scent. "Or more accurately, Anyanka. You're a vengeance demon again, aren't you?"
She nodded in assent.
"Where is Spike?"
Anya hesitated. Buffy was shaking her head vehemently and Dawn looked terrified. Anya disliked Angel anyway. "I don't know."
The vampire sighed. "What if I told you that a girl has been terribly wronged?"
"What?" she asked.
Angel leaned close to her. He wasn't touching any part of her body, but he was still too close. Worse, his voice dropped to a honeyed shade above a whisper so that his next words to Anya sounded horribly intimate as if they were the only ones in the room and he was about to tell her some delicious secret. "That girl on the sofa has been...damaged."
Anya stared at the strange girl. Yes, it was clear. Someone had hurt her.
"It makes you angry, Anyanka."
She swallowed and again, all her senses shrunk to his low voice in her ears. "Yes, she's crying out to be avenged. And you don't even have to lift one lovely finger to punish the man who did it. Just tell me where Spike is?"
Anya's eyes closed. Part of her knew that he was manipulating her, but all the other parts didn't care. Her only desire was to please Angel. If that meant telling him where Spike was, so be it. Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten them before she spoke.
Xander groaned and yanked Anya away from the vampire. "Snap out of it, Ahn. He's got you in thrall."
While Anya struggled to focus on Xander, a furious Buffy confronted Angel. "Why did you put her in thrall? How dare you violate my house that way!"
"You weren't willing to tell me."
The former lovers glared at each other. Then, Angel looked away, clearly ashamed. "Sorry, Buffy. I'll apologize to Anya. But we're fairly desperate."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you just yet. There's some things that I have to find out first. And only Spike can answer them. Do you know where he is?"
Buffy hesitated, then she nodded.
"Tell me."
"Okay, but let me get Giles first."
***
It turned out that Giles was already on his way over. As Buffy predicted, he was not pleased to see the visitors from LA. Still, he shook hands and murmured pleasantries before getting down to the business at hand.
If Giles thought that such a greeting would put Angel and Wesley at ease, he was mistaken. The two were adamant that they learn Spike's whereabouts before they shared the reason they were in Sunnydale. Their tenacity worried the older Watcher.
Meanwhile, Buffy had concerns of her own. A surreptitious phone call had revealed Spike wasn't at his apartment. Now, she had no idea where he was.
Angel was angry when she told him.
"Look, he'll be here after sunset."
"You're certain?" Wesley asked.
"Yes."
The vampire shook his head. "She's not certain, Wes. You can't be certain with Spike. He might say he's coming back, then disappear for two weeks."
"I said he'll be here after sunset." Buffy said heatedly
Angel looked at her strangely. "Why are you so sure?"
"They're dating." Anya piped up. "But they're not sleeping together again."
It would have been laughable, if it hadn't been the moment Buffy was dreading. She didn't dare look at Angel as his shock gave way to a palpable pain.
Finally, he spoke. "We drove all night, Buffy. Both Wesley and I are exhausted. Do you think I could get a cup of coffee."
"Sure." Buffy looked at Wes. "Tea?"
"Yes, please."
She started to head into the kitchen. Then she paused. "Would you like..." her voice trailed off. It was always awkward offering Angel blood.
The vampire looked at her expectantly.
"Um, do you..."
Anya rolled her eyes. "Buffy wants to know if you'd like some blood."
"You have blood in the house." It was a statement, not a question.
Buffy blushed. "It's for Spike."
Angel started to say something, then thought the better of it. "Please bring a mug of it." He flicked his eyes at Wesley who gave an almost imperceptible nod that the others missed. "Actually, two please. Warmed."
She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
Dawn wanted to follow her sister, but she sense that Buffy needed a moment alone to regain her composure. So she sat in silence with Giles, the Scoobies and the visits. There was a clatter of crockery from the other room that sounded as if something had been dashed against a wall. But ten minutes later, when the blonde reemerged, a tray in hand, she seemed less rattled. Likewise, when Angel took his mugs of black coffee and blood from her, his shoulders were less stiff.
The Slayer set the tray down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry, Wes. I don't remember how you take your tea."
"It has been long, hasn't it Buffy." The ex-Watcher smiled. Then, to her horror, he reached not for the steaming cup of tea, but the second mug of blood.
***
Buffy's own blood ran not a whit less cold as Wes tipped the mug not to his own lips, but those of the young woman next to him. Those vacant eyes did not change as her throat swallowed reflexively, but the rest of her face underwent a disturbing transformation. No matter how many times she saw it, Buffy's heart would always sink when the human mask was dropped.
"A vampire!"
Wesley gently "No quite."
Buffy laughed. "There's no 'not quite' when it comes to being a vampire. That's like saying someone's a little pregnant."
Angel shook his head. "Go ahead, Wes."
The ex-Watcher nodded. He gently scooped the girl up and walked to the door. For one awkward moment, he juggled his burden to one arm, but then he opened the door in a single smooth motion. And strode out into the sunlight.
By iyaorisha
Timing: AU S7 BtVS and AU S4 AtS
Pairings: Buffy/Spike, Angel/Cordy, Xander/Anya, Willow/other and Wesley/other.
Summary: Buffy and Spike's fragile new relationship is tested when Angel returns to Sunnydale, bringing with him a mysterious young woman from Spike's dark past. (Revised, with chapter titles!)
(This fic is part one of a yet-untitled series in progress. It can be read on its own or after my "Unmoved" series -four linked fics that chronicle my take on reensouled Spike's return to Sunnydale)
Rating/Warnings: R for violence, language, M/F sexual situations, and self-mutiliation.
Spoilers: None if you've seen S6 of BtVS and up through "Deep Down" in Ats S4. Spoilers for my "Unmoved" fanfic series. References to FFL, the trade novels "Pretty Maids All in a Row" and "Little Things", and my fanfic "Relating to a Psychopath.
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS or AtS characters or the world they inhabit belong to me. They belong to Joss and I promise to put them back when I'm done playing with them. Chapter 1 title is from "Clocks" by Coldplay.
Author's Note: Reading (and for me, writing) Buffyverse fanfiction is a great form of escapism. Unfortunately, "cutting" or self-mutilation is a very real and terribly serious disorder that affects as many as one out of every 200 adolescent girls in the U.S. If you or someone that you know practices "cutting", please seek help from your local medical/mental health expert.
Feedback: My first BtVs/AtS fanfic! Brutal honesty is best (I enjoy floggings, I really do), but warm fuzzies are accepted as well. You can post a review here or email me at fanfic_by_iyaorisha@yahoo.com
***
Chapter 1: A Trouble That Can't Be Named
Dawn wondered how old she'd be before she learned that mixing your favorite foods together usually didn't end well. She sighed and turned on the faucet to wash the pepperoni omelet down the garbage disposal. As the device whirred, she thought that she heard the doorbell ring. When she flicked the switch off, there was another urgent buzz
"Hold on," she called out. Buffy must have left her keys again. Her sister was doing that a lot lately -misplacing little things and forgetting appointments. As she opened the door, Dawn prepared to chide her sister.
To her shock, Angel stood there.
As she gaped at him, a wry smile twisted his mouth. "Are you going to let me in, Dawn? Or are you waiting for the sun to get any higher?" The tall vampire was hunched under a thick wool blanket, but wisps of smoke were already beginning to curl upward from his clothing.
"Oh!" Dawn stammered. "Yes, come in. Sorry, I forgot!" The teen moved out of the way and Angel gratefully stepped inside. Dawn pushed the door to shut it, but the swinging motion was cut short. She looked back in surprise to see a tall, dark-haired man that she didn't know. He was standing with one foot on sill blocking the door. She couldn't see all of his body, but the narrow opening showed a lean, stubble-darkened face with haunted eyes. Like Angel, the stranger was draped in a heavy blanket.
"Angel?!" Dawn called anxiously.
Too busy scanning the room, the vampire didn't turn. "It's okay. He's with me. Let him in."
Dawn smiled sheepishly at the stranger. "I apologize. You are invited to enter."
His eyes showed a trace of amusement. "I don't need an invitation," he paused. "But I wouldn't mind a hand with the door. My arms are full."
So he's human, she thought as she pulled the door fully open. As he entered, the man nodded his head in thanks, but Dawn didn't see the gesture. Instead, she looked at his burden -a body-shaped bundle of blanket. When laid upon the sofa, the blanket fell aside to reveal a young woman. Her eyes were heavily fringed with dark lashes and the same dark grey as the wool she had been swathed in. They would have been arresting if they hadn't been lifeless.
Dawn stepped back. "Is she dead?" she gasped.
"If only it was that simple." Angel's companion said as he arranged the young woman's form to a half-sitting position. In a gesture that was odd contrast to his brusque tone, he gently slipped a pillow beneath her head. The blankness of the young woman's eyes did not change in the slightest.
The younger Summers stared. If this young woman wasn't dead, what did her utterly expressionless face mean? Dawn's voice betrayed her rising panic. "Angel, what is going on?"
"Where's your sister?" was his only reply.
***
Xander's heart pounded in his chest as he ran. He entered thoughts of just giving up, but then there was Anya and Willow to consider. How could he stop after all they had been through? After all, they had taken a two-hour power yoga class the night before.
Why had he volunteered to accompany them? He never worked out with Buffy. Not when they were in high school and certainly not now that Giles was training her harder than ever.
Xander couldn't understand why Anya and Willow were out running either. Anya had excellent metabolism and naturally superb muscle tone thanks to her demonhood. Willow had never been athletic and loathed sweating. But lately, both had taken up a particularly strenuous form of yoga. Then they had started running with Buffy in the mornings. After a couple weeks, Dawn joined in so that early risers were treated to a quartet of attractive young women moving through the streets of Sunnydale like gazelles.
This morning, bleary with sleep, Xander watched Anya step into her white New Balance running shoes. He lazily stretched an arm out and caressed one rounded buttock through her jersey running pants. She swatted his hand away with a promise of "Later". He complained that, as usual she'd linger at Buffy's after the run and then head to the Magic Box to open for Giles. "I should go along," he threatened idly. "Make sure you get back here in time to make love." It was meant to be sort of joke.
Unfortunately, that sort of joke was the kind Anya always seemed to not get. It turned out that Dawn was feeling a bit under the weather and decided to ignore Buffy's 5:30 AM wake-up call. The girls would love his company.
So, now, he was out running with them. Not nearly as graceful a runner as even Dawnie. And more than a little resentful that he was struggling to keep up. Falling far behind Buffy, he could understand. No one else human had that kind of speed and stamina. But Anya and Willow? Especially after the workout they got from Geetha three nights a week.
It wasn't like he was out of shape. Xander made sure to hit the gym at least four times a week to keep his frame from returning to the flab he'd picked up around the time of the not-wedding. In some ways, he was in the peak physical condition of his life. But, the girls were running as if they were Olympic champions.
Why? The part of Alexander Lavelle Harris's mind that handled despising magick and keeping a jaundiced eye on the evil that fueled the Hellmouth was deeply worried about this sudden fitness craze. Were they unconsciously training to run away from something?
Before he could ponder this disturbing possibility further, they turned the corner and were finally back on Revello Drive. When they were less than two blocks away from the Summers' house, Buffy's pace changed. At first, he thought that she was slowing instinctively, then he saw that she was staring at a strange vehicle parked in front of her house. The blonde sped up again. She sprinted across the street and cut through three front lawns to reach her door.
***
Dawn barely had time to react, but Angel and Wesley both fell into fighting stances as the front door burst open.
Her sister stood there panting, her own petite body poised to fight.
Then, there were twin blurs as the Slayer and vampire moved toward each other. It was less an embrace than a dance. Then, reality sunk in and both were sober as Angel set Buffy on her feet. She stepped back and awkwardly pushed loose strands of damp hair back from her sweat-shiny face.
"Angel." Buffy turned her head. "Wesley."
The dark haired stranger held out his hand. "Good to see you, Buffy." They shook hands. "How's Giles?"
"He's well." She paused. "I'd say that he'll be pleased to see you. But that would be a lie. The two of you wouldn't come to Sunnydale if there wasn't trouble."
Neither man bothered to deny it. Buffy knew they wouldn't, but still her shoulders fell a little. She was so tired. Would it hurt for things to lay quiet for a few months?
There was a sudden staccato of sneezing. The Slayer glanced at the sofa where the young woman lay. "You brought a guest."
Wesley nodded.
"Is she the trouble?"
"Yes." Angel replied.
Wes shot him an angry glance, but the vampire didn't notice. Angel looked at Buffy.
"We need to find Spike."
***
Three exhausted Scoobies staggered in just in time to hear Angel's last words. The vampire barely turned his head, but he did roll his eyes at the racket Xander made falling to the floor.
"Why do you need to find Spike?" Dawn asked.
Wes turned to her "Do you know where he is?"
"He's not here."
"I know. But," the vampire paused and his nostrils flared. "He's been here recently. Why?"
Dawn opened her mouth, but the look on Buffy's face stopped her. "Why are you looking for Spike?" her sister demanded.
"I'll tell you later." Angel said.
"You'll tell me now." Buffy replied.
Angel ignored her and walked over to the door where Anya was helping Xander stand. "Anya." He said quietly. Then, his upper lip twitched as he caught her scent. "Or more accurately, Anyanka. You're a vengeance demon again, aren't you?"
She nodded in assent.
"Where is Spike?"
Anya hesitated. Buffy was shaking her head vehemently and Dawn looked terrified. Anya disliked Angel anyway. "I don't know."
The vampire sighed. "What if I told you that a girl has been terribly wronged?"
"What?" she asked.
Angel leaned close to her. He wasn't touching any part of her body, but he was still too close. Worse, his voice dropped to a honeyed shade above a whisper so that his next words to Anya sounded horribly intimate as if they were the only ones in the room and he was about to tell her some delicious secret. "That girl on the sofa has been...damaged."
Anya stared at the strange girl. Yes, it was clear. Someone had hurt her.
"It makes you angry, Anyanka."
She swallowed and again, all her senses shrunk to his low voice in her ears. "Yes, she's crying out to be avenged. And you don't even have to lift one lovely finger to punish the man who did it. Just tell me where Spike is?"
Anya's eyes closed. Part of her knew that he was manipulating her, but all the other parts didn't care. Her only desire was to please Angel. If that meant telling him where Spike was, so be it. Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue darted out to moisten them before she spoke.
Xander groaned and yanked Anya away from the vampire. "Snap out of it, Ahn. He's got you in thrall."
While Anya struggled to focus on Xander, a furious Buffy confronted Angel. "Why did you put her in thrall? How dare you violate my house that way!"
"You weren't willing to tell me."
The former lovers glared at each other. Then, Angel looked away, clearly ashamed. "Sorry, Buffy. I'll apologize to Anya. But we're fairly desperate."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you just yet. There's some things that I have to find out first. And only Spike can answer them. Do you know where he is?"
Buffy hesitated, then she nodded.
"Tell me."
"Okay, but let me get Giles first."
***
It turned out that Giles was already on his way over. As Buffy predicted, he was not pleased to see the visitors from LA. Still, he shook hands and murmured pleasantries before getting down to the business at hand.
If Giles thought that such a greeting would put Angel and Wesley at ease, he was mistaken. The two were adamant that they learn Spike's whereabouts before they shared the reason they were in Sunnydale. Their tenacity worried the older Watcher.
Meanwhile, Buffy had concerns of her own. A surreptitious phone call had revealed Spike wasn't at his apartment. Now, she had no idea where he was.
Angel was angry when she told him.
"Look, he'll be here after sunset."
"You're certain?" Wesley asked.
"Yes."
The vampire shook his head. "She's not certain, Wes. You can't be certain with Spike. He might say he's coming back, then disappear for two weeks."
"I said he'll be here after sunset." Buffy said heatedly
Angel looked at her strangely. "Why are you so sure?"
"They're dating." Anya piped up. "But they're not sleeping together again."
It would have been laughable, if it hadn't been the moment Buffy was dreading. She didn't dare look at Angel as his shock gave way to a palpable pain.
Finally, he spoke. "We drove all night, Buffy. Both Wesley and I are exhausted. Do you think I could get a cup of coffee."
"Sure." Buffy looked at Wes. "Tea?"
"Yes, please."
She started to head into the kitchen. Then she paused. "Would you like..." her voice trailed off. It was always awkward offering Angel blood.
The vampire looked at her expectantly.
"Um, do you..."
Anya rolled her eyes. "Buffy wants to know if you'd like some blood."
"You have blood in the house." It was a statement, not a question.
Buffy blushed. "It's for Spike."
Angel started to say something, then thought the better of it. "Please bring a mug of it." He flicked his eyes at Wesley who gave an almost imperceptible nod that the others missed. "Actually, two please. Warmed."
She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.
Dawn wanted to follow her sister, but she sense that Buffy needed a moment alone to regain her composure. So she sat in silence with Giles, the Scoobies and the visits. There was a clatter of crockery from the other room that sounded as if something had been dashed against a wall. But ten minutes later, when the blonde reemerged, a tray in hand, she seemed less rattled. Likewise, when Angel took his mugs of black coffee and blood from her, his shoulders were less stiff.
The Slayer set the tray down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry, Wes. I don't remember how you take your tea."
"It has been long, hasn't it Buffy." The ex-Watcher smiled. Then, to her horror, he reached not for the steaming cup of tea, but the second mug of blood.
***
Buffy's own blood ran not a whit less cold as Wes tipped the mug not to his own lips, but those of the young woman next to him. Those vacant eyes did not change as her throat swallowed reflexively, but the rest of her face underwent a disturbing transformation. No matter how many times she saw it, Buffy's heart would always sink when the human mask was dropped.
"A vampire!"
Wesley gently "No quite."
Buffy laughed. "There's no 'not quite' when it comes to being a vampire. That's like saying someone's a little pregnant."
Angel shook his head. "Go ahead, Wes."
The ex-Watcher nodded. He gently scooped the girl up and walked to the door. For one awkward moment, he juggled his burden to one arm, but then he opened the door in a single smooth motion. And strode out into the sunlight.