Wesley, Angel and Cordelia had been gathered together in the library poring
over books, manuscripts and websites that might help them in their quest to
find Doyle, preferably alive. When Angel's keener ears heard a faint thud
and a slithering noise. He excused himself to check things out and strolled
into the lobby to find a small heap of bags and cases at the bottom of the
stairs. As he examined this new development the door was opened and a large
chest shot down the steps to land at his feet, he looked up to see a
stunningly beautiful young woman dressed almost entirely in tight black
leather.
Then she smiled.
For a brief moment the world stopped turning, he forgot his troubles and his guilt and was simply a man admiring a lovely woman before giving himself a mental shake and asking her politely what she wanted.
She grinned, "You're Angel right?"
"Yes? And you are?"
She looked hurt, "What? Didn't Doyle tell you that I got landed here? Duh! I'll kill him. I'm Buffy his sister and as you can see I've come to stay. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Angel was struck dumb, the helpless kid with a few problems he had envisaged had not materialised. Instead he was facing a self-assured, undoubtedly troublesome, leather-clad goddess. She certainly wasn't the helpless fourteen or fifteen year old he had imagined.
"I'll show you to your room," he managed eventually, chivalrously scooping up her larger bags as he spoke. That left Buffy with the trunk and three much smaller bags, picking them up she followed him upstairs admiring the fact that he carried her really heavy bags without staggering or moaning one little bit. Xander had insisted on helping her when she had packed and had staggered, whinged and then made a production of rolling on the floor complaining.
The muscles in Angel's powerful arms bulged deliciously as he juggled cases to push open a door that led into a simple but really nice and quite feminine room.
Buffy followed happily tossing the light bags on the bed and slamming the heavy trunk gratefully down just inside the door, this wasn't turning out so bad after all.
Angel put her luggage down gently on the floor at the end of the king size bed, more bonus points she noted, he didn't toss her stuff around as if it was made of unbreakable rubber or something.
"I hope you've got everything you need, if not then you can find me in my office downstairs or in my apartment down the hall to your left okay? Sorry to abandon you but we've got a bit of a crisis on an important case." Angel told her as he gazed absently at her slender, lightly muscled legs tightly encased in leather.
Angel forced himself to drag his stare away and prepared himself to lie to her. He raised his head to look her in the eyes, and discovered that they were a gorgeous sparkling hazel, he stumbled into his lie unable to tear his eyes from hers, "The case is one that Doyle is involved with and I hate to tell you but he's in deep cover and won't be back here for a week or maybe even two. I'm really sorry to screw up the start of your summer Buffy but the job came up and really needed to be done. Doyle was really the only one suitable for it." With this hopefully convincing little speech delivered Angel forced himself to smile slightly and left the room quickly and quietly, deeply shaken by the unexpected beauty of his missing best friend's kid sister, a friend that would probably stake him if he had a clue about Angel's thoughts on the subject of Buffy.
Buffy pouted slightly as she closed the door behind the luscious Angel, no Doyle meant a certain lack of entertainment, though she supposed doing some slaying in LA wouldn't go amiss, or she admitted to herself a little studying about different demons. For years she had just slain anything that came with the label 'demon' It took her two best friend's choices in honeys and an interesting discovery about her brother to cause her to rethink her slay first, avoid questions later approach to her slaying gig.
Ever since she had become the slayer Buffy had increasingly felt that there was something slightly strange about Doyle whenever she got close to him. Not bad strange like when vampires were nearby, just strange. It had taken her three and a half years to come up with the idea that the reason he gave her odd vibes was because he was demon or part demon. A chance glimpse of him sneezing when he thought he was alone cemented her suspicions. Then with Willow becoming a practising wicca and dating a werewolf and Xander falling for an ex-vengeance demon Buffy had rethought her violent approach to anything weird, it wouldn't exactly hurt her to learn to identify the commonest breeds of totally harmless demons, after all; slaying the innocent wasn't something she wanted to make a career of. She also wanted to be able to prove her non-violent intentions to Doyle with some real knowledge when she finally approached him to talk about his demonic nature.
Once she had unpacked all her clothes and arranged all her toiletries in the en-suite bathroom she was sorely tempted to wander downstairs to drool over Angel but it was clear that he was busy. She opened her heavy trunk that she had shunted against the end of the bed and pulled out a couple of books Giles had joyfully leant to her, thrilled that she planned to do some reading up on his favourite topic. But the incredibly thick stash of guilt money presented to her by her dad called to her and with a sigh she tossed aside the books and scooped up her purse, books could wait - she was going shopping.
Then she smiled.
For a brief moment the world stopped turning, he forgot his troubles and his guilt and was simply a man admiring a lovely woman before giving himself a mental shake and asking her politely what she wanted.
She grinned, "You're Angel right?"
"Yes? And you are?"
She looked hurt, "What? Didn't Doyle tell you that I got landed here? Duh! I'll kill him. I'm Buffy his sister and as you can see I've come to stay. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Angel was struck dumb, the helpless kid with a few problems he had envisaged had not materialised. Instead he was facing a self-assured, undoubtedly troublesome, leather-clad goddess. She certainly wasn't the helpless fourteen or fifteen year old he had imagined.
"I'll show you to your room," he managed eventually, chivalrously scooping up her larger bags as he spoke. That left Buffy with the trunk and three much smaller bags, picking them up she followed him upstairs admiring the fact that he carried her really heavy bags without staggering or moaning one little bit. Xander had insisted on helping her when she had packed and had staggered, whinged and then made a production of rolling on the floor complaining.
The muscles in Angel's powerful arms bulged deliciously as he juggled cases to push open a door that led into a simple but really nice and quite feminine room.
Buffy followed happily tossing the light bags on the bed and slamming the heavy trunk gratefully down just inside the door, this wasn't turning out so bad after all.
Angel put her luggage down gently on the floor at the end of the king size bed, more bonus points she noted, he didn't toss her stuff around as if it was made of unbreakable rubber or something.
"I hope you've got everything you need, if not then you can find me in my office downstairs or in my apartment down the hall to your left okay? Sorry to abandon you but we've got a bit of a crisis on an important case." Angel told her as he gazed absently at her slender, lightly muscled legs tightly encased in leather.
Angel forced himself to drag his stare away and prepared himself to lie to her. He raised his head to look her in the eyes, and discovered that they were a gorgeous sparkling hazel, he stumbled into his lie unable to tear his eyes from hers, "The case is one that Doyle is involved with and I hate to tell you but he's in deep cover and won't be back here for a week or maybe even two. I'm really sorry to screw up the start of your summer Buffy but the job came up and really needed to be done. Doyle was really the only one suitable for it." With this hopefully convincing little speech delivered Angel forced himself to smile slightly and left the room quickly and quietly, deeply shaken by the unexpected beauty of his missing best friend's kid sister, a friend that would probably stake him if he had a clue about Angel's thoughts on the subject of Buffy.
Buffy pouted slightly as she closed the door behind the luscious Angel, no Doyle meant a certain lack of entertainment, though she supposed doing some slaying in LA wouldn't go amiss, or she admitted to herself a little studying about different demons. For years she had just slain anything that came with the label 'demon' It took her two best friend's choices in honeys and an interesting discovery about her brother to cause her to rethink her slay first, avoid questions later approach to her slaying gig.
Ever since she had become the slayer Buffy had increasingly felt that there was something slightly strange about Doyle whenever she got close to him. Not bad strange like when vampires were nearby, just strange. It had taken her three and a half years to come up with the idea that the reason he gave her odd vibes was because he was demon or part demon. A chance glimpse of him sneezing when he thought he was alone cemented her suspicions. Then with Willow becoming a practising wicca and dating a werewolf and Xander falling for an ex-vengeance demon Buffy had rethought her violent approach to anything weird, it wouldn't exactly hurt her to learn to identify the commonest breeds of totally harmless demons, after all; slaying the innocent wasn't something she wanted to make a career of. She also wanted to be able to prove her non-violent intentions to Doyle with some real knowledge when she finally approached him to talk about his demonic nature.
Once she had unpacked all her clothes and arranged all her toiletries in the en-suite bathroom she was sorely tempted to wander downstairs to drool over Angel but it was clear that he was busy. She opened her heavy trunk that she had shunted against the end of the bed and pulled out a couple of books Giles had joyfully leant to her, thrilled that she planned to do some reading up on his favourite topic. But the incredibly thick stash of guilt money presented to her by her dad called to her and with a sigh she tossed aside the books and scooped up her purse, books could wait - she was going shopping.
