CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: GUNN
(I'm taking BIG liberties here. In AtS S1, Doyle's already dead by this ep, and Gunn hasn't even been introduced, but I couldn't exactly have Cordy and Wes here, so…these two fit the bill. Go with it!)
Tuesday: 1pm
1st September 1998
California: Los Angeles
Doyle stormed into the office area, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
"Anything?" Gunn asked.
"Nothing. Not a word," he replied angrily. "You'd think that if someone had offed Angel, Mr vamp-with-a-soul, they'd be big with the braggin' about it."
"Maybe, he met a nice lady-vamp," Gunn said. "They might be out getting all hot and heavy."
Doyle thought about that suggestion while Gunn reconsidered his words. They simultaneously wrinkled their noses in disgust.
"Thanks for that visual boyo," Doyle said. "Now I'm sure to have nightmares about the boss."
"You know, you'd think that the Powers would send you a vision or something to tell you what happened to Angel. I mean, he is a warrior of theirs, right?" Gunn said. "So, why wouldn't they have warned him that something freaky was gonna happen."
Doyle, Angel's seer and link to the Powers that Be shook his head. "It doesn't quite work like that."
Gunn sighed in disgust. "It's been a week already. He can't have gone that far, right? And you're still getting the visions, so it's not like he can be dead or anything."
Doyle stopped pacing and threw himself into a chair.
"This is hopeless. I've used every contact I can think of, and I still can't find the bloke. You'd think that someone somewhere would know what was going on," Doyle insisted.
Gunn went to reply, but Doyle jerked forward, clutching at his head as a vision flashed painfully across his mind. Gunn watched in sympathy, hating when Doyle got the visions. He felt hopeless.
Doyle sat up gasping.
"We've got trouble."
"Angel?" Gunn asked.
Doyle nodded. "Fighting a big green demon, crown of horns on his head."
"Where?"
Doyle hesitated. "It looked like a sports arena, but…there were humans watching these guys fight. Like they were betting on who was gonna win."
"You mean like demon wrestling?" Gunn asked.
"Death match for demons, yeah. As in, a fight to the death."
"Why does that not comfort me a single bit?" Gunn said sarcastically.
Doyle patted the younger mans back. "Well, at least we know where he is, right?"
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Gunn really didn't want to know how Doyle had managed to scrounge up two tickets for the demon fight club, and there was no way that Gunn was bold enough to ask. He was just grateful that they were able to get in.
He'd been told to dress fancy, which for Gunn meant a nicer pair of black jeans and a button up shirt that wasn't ripped. He walked into the office and Doyle looked at him in disgust. The half-demon was dressed in a pair of black slacks with a white button up shirt and a matching black jacket.
"You can't go in jeans," Doyle said.
"Well what the hell am I meant to wear then?" Gunn asked. "It's not like I own anything all fancy, remember?"
Doyle rolled his eyes and led Gunn down into Angel's apartment. He scoured through Angel's closet and pulled out a pair of black pants, a blue button down shirt and a black jacket.
"Why can't I borrow one of his leather ones?" Gunn asked.
"Cos, we're meant to be rich snobs, and rich snobs wear suits," Doyle explained.
Gunn rolled his eyes and let Doyle lead him to Angel's black convertible.
"Fine. I still say I shoulda been wearing the leather."
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Doyle and Gunn showed their tickets to the bouncer on the door who waved them in disinterestedly. Both men sighed in relief as they entered the club.
"Make sure you don't do anything stupid when we get inside," Doyle warned. "And no betting."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Gunn replied.
They went through another door and entered into a room with a hollowed out pit. At the bottom were two demons beating the crap out of each other. Around them was the chant 'killing blow, killing blow' as the humans watched the demons competing.
Gunn's eyes narrowed and the two men wormed their way through the crowd to get spots on the railing. Gunn leant on the red rail and saw a warning. 'For safety measures, do not lean over rail.'
It took only minutes before one of the demons lay dead on the ground while the other demon stood triumphant.
"Winner, ladies and gentlemen, Melish! If you're keeping score, that was Melish's sixteenth career kill. That's right ladies and gentlemen, sixteen to the demon fighter Melish. Our next two contestants are two of your favourites, pitted against each other as they were supposed to be. This months favourite fighter, the Slayer!"
There was a roar that came from the crowd and Gunn and Doyle watched in amazement as a young girl walked into the arena.
"I saw her in my vision," Doyle said.
"The Powers warned you about her?" Gunn asked, taking in the size of her. She looked weak, and he idly wondered what type of a demon she was.
"Not against her," Doyle explained. "I think we're meant to help her."
"She looks like she's gonna need that help pretty soon," Gunn said. He tensed as he saw a demon enter the pit as well. The demon was almost twice the girls size.
Gunn watched in disgust as a bell sounded and the demon attacked viciously. Gunn was stunned when the girl quickly ducked out of the way, tripping the demon, sending it slamming into the wall. Gunn cheered her on silently.
The demon regrouped and went to hit the girl's cheek with its claws, but Buffy grabbed its wrist, squeezing tightly until it howled in pain. Buffy delivered a swift quick between the demons legs and mentally cursed as she realized that the demon wasn't sensitive there at all.
She'd read about demons like this one. A jamulik demon, native to Southern America and violent as all hell. They were mindless, vicious killers, bent on the destruction of anything that moved.
She ducked into a crouch and swung her leg into a low kick, sending the demon sprawling onto its back. She drowned out the sounds of the crowd above her, trying to convince herself that this was an ordinary kill. She was just the Slayer, back in Sunnydale, trying to rid the world of one more demon. She didn't have people betting money on her to win, and she didn't have people chanting the word 'Slayer' at the top of their lungs.
The jamulik got in one good hit to Buffy's mid-section and Buffy sucked in quickly, pushing the pain out of her mind as the fight continued. After a six minute dance that Gunn was on edge for, Buffy stood above her fifteenth kill. She swallowed hard and wiped her bloodied hands on her jeans, vowing to herself that she would burn them the second she got home.
She looked up at the crowd in disgust, but caught one quiet young man's eyes. He stared back at her. He wasn't like the others. He wasn't cheering. He wasn't even smiling. He was just looking worriedly at her. He offered her a small half-smile, which she didn't have the strength to return. Instead, she turned and walked back into the caged area with the other 'slaves'.
Angel pounced on her immediately. "You're hurt," he said, touching her split lip gently.
She waved him off. "Its nothing Angel. I've had far, far worse."
"Angel! You're up!"
Buffy turned to him, catching his hand in hers. "You better come back alright? I'm too exhausted to not sleep tonight."
He nodded and kissed her cheek quickly. She looked at him, startled. He'd never done that before. With a smile, he turned and walked up the ramp and into the arena. Buffy could only watch and listen as Angel faced off with a demon that was larger and looked to be stronger than he. After six minutes of wincing and silent praying, she smiled at her vampiric friend as he limped back into the cages.
"Nice fight," she said.
He looked at her intensely. "We're getting out of here," he whispered. She looked at him, completely shocked. She hadn't expected him to say anything like that to her at all. "Tomorrow night. We're getting out."
Thank you soooo much for your feedback and reviews!!
Toodles.
K.