A/N: Bah, writer's block really does suck. Hence the wait. That and other stuff: me going away to Disneyland (yay! In the freezing cold, lol!), me getting loads of work, and me being blamed for the very big phone bill (basically, 'you're always online, blah blah blah'). Anyways, finally, a new chapter! Success! :-D
Oh, and would you believe it snowed here? Yeah, for like the first time in three or four years! Right on the day AFTER the holidays ended...grr!
Disclaimer: So sue me. I dare ya.
Dedication: My only reviewer, FanFreak! Yes, Keisha is acting like a bit of an idiot around Angel, but she's just shy. Or perhaps traumatised- well, wouldn't you be if you had Luke as a brother? Lol! I liked your idea, by the way. You're right, it really would be funny, but I don't know all that much about the 80s. Still, you never know...;-D I just wanna say thanks for sticking by me for so long!
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Nathan Pierce was depressed.
Well, what else was he supposed to be when he was spending his evening alone in the Bronze with very little female interest? None of his friends had shown up, which was lucky considering his three failed conquests for the night. He'd only been standing here in the corner for an hour and already he was wondering about leaving.
It was during the very middle of his self-pity session that he saw the girl.
He had been scanning the crowds, completely bored, until one face made him look back. She was sitting on one of the high stools at the bar, left hand absently playing with the glass on the bar top as she looked around absently. Even from here he could tell that she was very pretty, probably about his own nineteen years.
He continued to watch her, glad that there seemed to be no sign of a boyfriend, when suddenly she looked at him.
Nathan froze.
But the girl just smiled shyly, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze once more and beckoning him over. Hardly daring to believe his luck, Nathan complied, hoping that he looked cool and that his luck was in as he leaned on the bar top in front of her.
"Hey." Smooth, he thought. She was even prettier close up, with black hair clipped back and spilling over her shoulders, and a perfect figure shown off by her black skirt and silver top.
"Hi." Their conversation was raised over the music. "I..." The girl glanced away briefly again. "I just wondered if you might like some company."
Nathan faltered slightly, wondering if she was only trying to be kind. "Oh, no, it's fine." he said simply, struggling to maintain 'cool'. "Just waiting for a friend." Forcing a laugh, he added, "He never could tell the time."
The girl laughed slightly, a hand over her mouth, before she added, "I hope you didn't think I was just trying to be charitable. I'm just not very good with these conversations." She adverted her eyes to her lap.
"Oh no, not at all, I don't mind." Nathan rushed. She smiled up at him in what might have been a hopeful way.
"What's your name then?" she asked. He blinked.
"Uh...Nathan. And you are?"
"Laurel." She watched her fingers tracing around the rim of her glass before looking back at him. "So, you live in Sunnydale then?"
"Yeah, I'm a student at the U.C." He saw the opportunity and took it. "How about you? I haven't seen you around before."
"Oh, I just moved here recently. Not that long at all."
"A family thing, huh?"
Her smile widened slightly at this. "You could say that."
Nathan couldn't help but just stare at Laurel for a moment, just to take in all the things about her. She gave a small, shy chuckle, looking back at her glass. That caused him to snap out of his daze.
"I, uh..." Mind hurtling, he blurted out, "I could show you around some time. I, um, mean, only if you wanna."
She looked at him, eyes narrowed very slightly as she studied him, smiling gently. Her next words were so low that he only just heard them.
"I'd like that."
Score! he thought happily.
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Spike was not so happy.
Sitting alone in his crypt like he'd done on so many nights before gave the chance for too much thought. Too much BAD thought that even the alcohol wouldn't drown out.
Wonder how Peaches does this as a hobby, he thought. I'd sooner stake myself than put up with this.
It was strange that he should be musing like this. He knew it shouldn't be this way, not any more. The soul which he had gained those years ago in Africa was gone again- he'd had it removed with a curse once the constant grief had become too much for him. That and the fact that Buffy still wouldn't love him.
His eyes narrowed at the memory of her. She never aged in his memory, never aged in the fading photographs he'd stolen from her house during the early days of his infatuation. Never changed. Always scornful of his efforts.
Then she had died a final time, leaving the newly released Faith to carry on the work of the Chosen One until she, too, had been killed. Three months later, and Gracia McCormack had shown up.
Something about her was intriguing. It was just something he couldn't quite understand, and every time he just came close to discovering what it was...it slipped away again.
He knew she was seventeen, emigrated from Belfast. He knew she was Angel's reborn sister, remembering everything from the past life in which her turned brother had killed her. He knew her Watcher had been evil, and now, following that Watcher's suicide, she was trained by Rupert Giles. He knew she had her own little gang at the high school, just as Buffy had done.
But there was still something deep within her large brown eyes that kept him guessing, teased him about something he couldn't know. Not yet.
He pushed her away. Why should he care? His days of consorting with Slayers were well over- he refused to go down that same road of pain and punishment that he'd become oh-so-familiar with by now. All a Slayer could do now was hurt him. Even if she pretended to be friendly enough.
But still...he should help her...right?
Spike shook his head and took another swig. How much more alcohol would it take to drown that tiny voice in his brain?
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Nathan still couldn't believe his fabulous luck as the girl named Laurel led him from the Bronze by the hand. She was talking about him coming back to her place, that it wasn't far, and that there was someone who might be interested to meet him.
In his preoccupied, almost euphoric state, he totally missed the triumphant edge to her tone.
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Spike stared down at the growing pile of empty bottles with unfocused eyes. He'd drunk so much that he was close to passing out, but he still carried on, happily drinking himself into oblivion. Again. It was a practiced art for him by now.
Well, it's not like his liver could complain, was it? It'd been dead for over a century.
But he realised, with extreme annoyance, that the voice still hadn't shut up. It was still whispering about helping the Slayer. About how he had to do something other than sit here and act like Angel, with his constant depression and brooding.
Alright! he snapped at the voice. I'll help the stupid bint. Just shut up!
The voice obeyed, and the last thing Spike saw before passing out was Gracia's wide eyes, full of pleading and despair.
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Laurel almost hummed to herself, such was her happiness, as she led the young man from the club through the cemetery. He was quite good looking, she had to admit, and it seemed like such a shame just to waste that on a meal. Perhaps she could Sire him. She was quite taken with him as it was.
She heard him clear his throat almost nervously, and sensed him glancing around at the shadowed tombstones. She couldn't help but grin at that.
Humans, she mused to herself. Always so afraid of the dead, for some reason. But I can help him with that...
"Uh, Laurel?"
She made sure that her expression was one which could have been assumed by the quiet, bookish character she had played at the club as she stopped and looked back. "Yes?"
Nathan gestured around with the hand not clasped in hers. "Are...you sure that this is a shortcut?"
"Of course." She giggled quietly. "Why? Not scared, are you?"
He tried to make himself look and sound tough, and the effort was so obvious that it made her smirk inwardly. Poor little boy, she thought.
"Of course not. I was just wondering. We seemed to have been walking a long while, that's all."
She drew closer to him, eyes now fixed hungrily on his neck as she slid her hands up to hold onto his upper arms. "The dead can't harm you, you know." She leaned into the unsuspecting boy as her face morphed into feeding mode. She dipped her fangs close and...
"They can, though."
A different voice made her look up over Nathan's shoulder at the person standing a few feet away. It was a girl, face grave and determined, holding herself in a ready battle stance. Laurel's eyes, now a blazing gold, were drawn to the pointed wooden stick clasped in the girl's right hand. She snarled, and looked back to the girl's face as she cocked an eyebrow and continued, "Can't they?"
Nathan broke from Laurel's grip and turned around irritably. "Do you mind? We were bu-" At this point Laurel grabbed him again, causing him to look at her. He yelled and tried to get away, but Laurel's fingers were like a vice, squeezing his bicep hard. She grinned ghoulishly at him through her fangs, before turning her look to the girl, who had taken a few steps forward.
"So, who would you be, dear?" Her voice was patronizing. "Oh, but let me guess. You could only be the Slayer."
The girl dipped her head in a mockery of thoughtful respect. "Right first time. It usually takes people much longer to get that."
"Would you mind leaving us now?" Laurel yanked Nathan close to her and looked deep into his eyes, savouring the terror there. "We have things to do. Run along."
The girl was so fast that, at first, Laurel didn't sense her approach. It was only at the last second that she realised the flips the girl had used to get close, and she tried to dodge in that instant. She managed to avoid the blows, but her hold on the boy was broken. He paced away backwards, slowly. The Slayer gave him an urgent push as Laurel gathered herself.
"Go! Run now!" she snapped, blocking as Laurel flew at her.
"B-but..." Nathan was full of uncertainty. "I can help you...you're only a girl..."
The Slayer caught the vampiress firmly in the chest with a rolling kick. "No, you can't! Now go!"
Nathan didn't need to be told again. He bolted as fast as possible through the cemetery, back the way he had come, and didn't cast another glance at the fight.
Laurel felt faintly annoyed, but most of her was focused on the fight now. "Not a clever move, girl." she hissed, lashing out at the Slayer's face- not quick enough, the girl caught the full force of the strike in her left cheek. Laurel stepped back to observe as the girl rolled with the blow and rounded back on her. "Well, you're just like he said. Shame he might not see you again. I'm sorely tempted to snap your scrawny neck, you insolent little brat."
"I wouldn't try if I were you."
Those words were spoken from behind her, in a voice that Laurel immediately recognised, even after so long. She gasped and whirled halfway round to see the newcomer standing there, half in darkness, and grew wide-eyed at the stake in his hand.
"Angelus!" she stated. Now it was his turn to be confused, and it showed.
"Laurel?"
"I'm honoured you remember who I am." The bitterness in her voice and mind were growing as she recalled Drusilla's words, all the clearer now she was face to face with him. "But do you know who you are?"
She stalked closer to him, ignoring the fact that he was frozen to the spot in shock. "I've heard what you've become! I've heard what you've done, how you've..." She stopped in front of him, her voice betraying her in a wave of emotion as she lashed out, raking her sharp nails right across his left cheek. "Traitor!"
The Slayer was suddenly there behind her, grabbing her hair, yanking her head back and trying to pull her away. Laurel scrabbled, catching the girl's arm with her talons, scraping her shin with the sharp heel of her shoe, shoving her hard in the stomach. The Slayer staggered back, winded.
"Gracey!" Angelus had snapped out of whatever trance he had been in, face revealing a great amount of feeling for this girl, this enemy of their kind. He rounded on the vampires, seizing her upper arm. That made her look around from the injured Slayer with wide, wild eyes.
"Stay away from here, Laurel," he warned quietly. "Take Thomas, wherever he is, and get out of town. I'm giving you a chance to leave."
Laurel's eyes slid to his firm grip on her arm. "You're hurting me." she stated, looking back up at him without interest. "And it's not even that old pain we used to enjoy together."
With one fluid motion she broke away and backed from both of them, her great-grandsire and the recovering Slayer, shooting angry glances between both of them.
"Why should I take orders from you, Angelus? It's not like you're one of us any more. And as for this, whatever THIS is," She sneered. "Well, I don't like it. Thomas was right. Everything has changed so much."
Like Nathan, she fled without a backward glance, totally missing the words that passed between Angelus and the Slayer he had called by 'Gracey'. All she knew was the sense of having her entire existence turned completely upside down.
"You know her." The Slayer phrased it as a fact, not a question.
Angelus looked at her, pain evermore present in his eyes. "Yes."
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Lol, anyone seen The Two Towers yet? There are so many funny lines in that!
Gimli: Toss me.
Aragorn: What?
Also, the constant jokes about Gimli's height! (No offence, cause I'm quite short too!):
Gimli: What's going on out there?
Legolas: Would you like me to describe it for you...or would you like me to find you a box?
Enough of my ramblings. Review!
Oh, and would you believe it snowed here? Yeah, for like the first time in three or four years! Right on the day AFTER the holidays ended...grr!
Disclaimer: So sue me. I dare ya.
Dedication: My only reviewer, FanFreak! Yes, Keisha is acting like a bit of an idiot around Angel, but she's just shy. Or perhaps traumatised- well, wouldn't you be if you had Luke as a brother? Lol! I liked your idea, by the way. You're right, it really would be funny, but I don't know all that much about the 80s. Still, you never know...;-D I just wanna say thanks for sticking by me for so long!
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Nathan Pierce was depressed.
Well, what else was he supposed to be when he was spending his evening alone in the Bronze with very little female interest? None of his friends had shown up, which was lucky considering his three failed conquests for the night. He'd only been standing here in the corner for an hour and already he was wondering about leaving.
It was during the very middle of his self-pity session that he saw the girl.
He had been scanning the crowds, completely bored, until one face made him look back. She was sitting on one of the high stools at the bar, left hand absently playing with the glass on the bar top as she looked around absently. Even from here he could tell that she was very pretty, probably about his own nineteen years.
He continued to watch her, glad that there seemed to be no sign of a boyfriend, when suddenly she looked at him.
Nathan froze.
But the girl just smiled shyly, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze once more and beckoning him over. Hardly daring to believe his luck, Nathan complied, hoping that he looked cool and that his luck was in as he leaned on the bar top in front of her.
"Hey." Smooth, he thought. She was even prettier close up, with black hair clipped back and spilling over her shoulders, and a perfect figure shown off by her black skirt and silver top.
"Hi." Their conversation was raised over the music. "I..." The girl glanced away briefly again. "I just wondered if you might like some company."
Nathan faltered slightly, wondering if she was only trying to be kind. "Oh, no, it's fine." he said simply, struggling to maintain 'cool'. "Just waiting for a friend." Forcing a laugh, he added, "He never could tell the time."
The girl laughed slightly, a hand over her mouth, before she added, "I hope you didn't think I was just trying to be charitable. I'm just not very good with these conversations." She adverted her eyes to her lap.
"Oh no, not at all, I don't mind." Nathan rushed. She smiled up at him in what might have been a hopeful way.
"What's your name then?" she asked. He blinked.
"Uh...Nathan. And you are?"
"Laurel." She watched her fingers tracing around the rim of her glass before looking back at him. "So, you live in Sunnydale then?"
"Yeah, I'm a student at the U.C." He saw the opportunity and took it. "How about you? I haven't seen you around before."
"Oh, I just moved here recently. Not that long at all."
"A family thing, huh?"
Her smile widened slightly at this. "You could say that."
Nathan couldn't help but just stare at Laurel for a moment, just to take in all the things about her. She gave a small, shy chuckle, looking back at her glass. That caused him to snap out of his daze.
"I, uh..." Mind hurtling, he blurted out, "I could show you around some time. I, um, mean, only if you wanna."
She looked at him, eyes narrowed very slightly as she studied him, smiling gently. Her next words were so low that he only just heard them.
"I'd like that."
Score! he thought happily.
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Spike was not so happy.
Sitting alone in his crypt like he'd done on so many nights before gave the chance for too much thought. Too much BAD thought that even the alcohol wouldn't drown out.
Wonder how Peaches does this as a hobby, he thought. I'd sooner stake myself than put up with this.
It was strange that he should be musing like this. He knew it shouldn't be this way, not any more. The soul which he had gained those years ago in Africa was gone again- he'd had it removed with a curse once the constant grief had become too much for him. That and the fact that Buffy still wouldn't love him.
His eyes narrowed at the memory of her. She never aged in his memory, never aged in the fading photographs he'd stolen from her house during the early days of his infatuation. Never changed. Always scornful of his efforts.
Then she had died a final time, leaving the newly released Faith to carry on the work of the Chosen One until she, too, had been killed. Three months later, and Gracia McCormack had shown up.
Something about her was intriguing. It was just something he couldn't quite understand, and every time he just came close to discovering what it was...it slipped away again.
He knew she was seventeen, emigrated from Belfast. He knew she was Angel's reborn sister, remembering everything from the past life in which her turned brother had killed her. He knew her Watcher had been evil, and now, following that Watcher's suicide, she was trained by Rupert Giles. He knew she had her own little gang at the high school, just as Buffy had done.
But there was still something deep within her large brown eyes that kept him guessing, teased him about something he couldn't know. Not yet.
He pushed her away. Why should he care? His days of consorting with Slayers were well over- he refused to go down that same road of pain and punishment that he'd become oh-so-familiar with by now. All a Slayer could do now was hurt him. Even if she pretended to be friendly enough.
But still...he should help her...right?
Spike shook his head and took another swig. How much more alcohol would it take to drown that tiny voice in his brain?
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Nathan still couldn't believe his fabulous luck as the girl named Laurel led him from the Bronze by the hand. She was talking about him coming back to her place, that it wasn't far, and that there was someone who might be interested to meet him.
In his preoccupied, almost euphoric state, he totally missed the triumphant edge to her tone.
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Spike stared down at the growing pile of empty bottles with unfocused eyes. He'd drunk so much that he was close to passing out, but he still carried on, happily drinking himself into oblivion. Again. It was a practiced art for him by now.
Well, it's not like his liver could complain, was it? It'd been dead for over a century.
But he realised, with extreme annoyance, that the voice still hadn't shut up. It was still whispering about helping the Slayer. About how he had to do something other than sit here and act like Angel, with his constant depression and brooding.
Alright! he snapped at the voice. I'll help the stupid bint. Just shut up!
The voice obeyed, and the last thing Spike saw before passing out was Gracia's wide eyes, full of pleading and despair.
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Laurel almost hummed to herself, such was her happiness, as she led the young man from the club through the cemetery. He was quite good looking, she had to admit, and it seemed like such a shame just to waste that on a meal. Perhaps she could Sire him. She was quite taken with him as it was.
She heard him clear his throat almost nervously, and sensed him glancing around at the shadowed tombstones. She couldn't help but grin at that.
Humans, she mused to herself. Always so afraid of the dead, for some reason. But I can help him with that...
"Uh, Laurel?"
She made sure that her expression was one which could have been assumed by the quiet, bookish character she had played at the club as she stopped and looked back. "Yes?"
Nathan gestured around with the hand not clasped in hers. "Are...you sure that this is a shortcut?"
"Of course." She giggled quietly. "Why? Not scared, are you?"
He tried to make himself look and sound tough, and the effort was so obvious that it made her smirk inwardly. Poor little boy, she thought.
"Of course not. I was just wondering. We seemed to have been walking a long while, that's all."
She drew closer to him, eyes now fixed hungrily on his neck as she slid her hands up to hold onto his upper arms. "The dead can't harm you, you know." She leaned into the unsuspecting boy as her face morphed into feeding mode. She dipped her fangs close and...
"They can, though."
A different voice made her look up over Nathan's shoulder at the person standing a few feet away. It was a girl, face grave and determined, holding herself in a ready battle stance. Laurel's eyes, now a blazing gold, were drawn to the pointed wooden stick clasped in the girl's right hand. She snarled, and looked back to the girl's face as she cocked an eyebrow and continued, "Can't they?"
Nathan broke from Laurel's grip and turned around irritably. "Do you mind? We were bu-" At this point Laurel grabbed him again, causing him to look at her. He yelled and tried to get away, but Laurel's fingers were like a vice, squeezing his bicep hard. She grinned ghoulishly at him through her fangs, before turning her look to the girl, who had taken a few steps forward.
"So, who would you be, dear?" Her voice was patronizing. "Oh, but let me guess. You could only be the Slayer."
The girl dipped her head in a mockery of thoughtful respect. "Right first time. It usually takes people much longer to get that."
"Would you mind leaving us now?" Laurel yanked Nathan close to her and looked deep into his eyes, savouring the terror there. "We have things to do. Run along."
The girl was so fast that, at first, Laurel didn't sense her approach. It was only at the last second that she realised the flips the girl had used to get close, and she tried to dodge in that instant. She managed to avoid the blows, but her hold on the boy was broken. He paced away backwards, slowly. The Slayer gave him an urgent push as Laurel gathered herself.
"Go! Run now!" she snapped, blocking as Laurel flew at her.
"B-but..." Nathan was full of uncertainty. "I can help you...you're only a girl..."
The Slayer caught the vampiress firmly in the chest with a rolling kick. "No, you can't! Now go!"
Nathan didn't need to be told again. He bolted as fast as possible through the cemetery, back the way he had come, and didn't cast another glance at the fight.
Laurel felt faintly annoyed, but most of her was focused on the fight now. "Not a clever move, girl." she hissed, lashing out at the Slayer's face- not quick enough, the girl caught the full force of the strike in her left cheek. Laurel stepped back to observe as the girl rolled with the blow and rounded back on her. "Well, you're just like he said. Shame he might not see you again. I'm sorely tempted to snap your scrawny neck, you insolent little brat."
"I wouldn't try if I were you."
Those words were spoken from behind her, in a voice that Laurel immediately recognised, even after so long. She gasped and whirled halfway round to see the newcomer standing there, half in darkness, and grew wide-eyed at the stake in his hand.
"Angelus!" she stated. Now it was his turn to be confused, and it showed.
"Laurel?"
"I'm honoured you remember who I am." The bitterness in her voice and mind were growing as she recalled Drusilla's words, all the clearer now she was face to face with him. "But do you know who you are?"
She stalked closer to him, ignoring the fact that he was frozen to the spot in shock. "I've heard what you've become! I've heard what you've done, how you've..." She stopped in front of him, her voice betraying her in a wave of emotion as she lashed out, raking her sharp nails right across his left cheek. "Traitor!"
The Slayer was suddenly there behind her, grabbing her hair, yanking her head back and trying to pull her away. Laurel scrabbled, catching the girl's arm with her talons, scraping her shin with the sharp heel of her shoe, shoving her hard in the stomach. The Slayer staggered back, winded.
"Gracey!" Angelus had snapped out of whatever trance he had been in, face revealing a great amount of feeling for this girl, this enemy of their kind. He rounded on the vampires, seizing her upper arm. That made her look around from the injured Slayer with wide, wild eyes.
"Stay away from here, Laurel," he warned quietly. "Take Thomas, wherever he is, and get out of town. I'm giving you a chance to leave."
Laurel's eyes slid to his firm grip on her arm. "You're hurting me." she stated, looking back up at him without interest. "And it's not even that old pain we used to enjoy together."
With one fluid motion she broke away and backed from both of them, her great-grandsire and the recovering Slayer, shooting angry glances between both of them.
"Why should I take orders from you, Angelus? It's not like you're one of us any more. And as for this, whatever THIS is," She sneered. "Well, I don't like it. Thomas was right. Everything has changed so much."
Like Nathan, she fled without a backward glance, totally missing the words that passed between Angelus and the Slayer he had called by 'Gracey'. All she knew was the sense of having her entire existence turned completely upside down.
"You know her." The Slayer phrased it as a fact, not a question.
Angelus looked at her, pain evermore present in his eyes. "Yes."
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Lol, anyone seen The Two Towers yet? There are so many funny lines in that!
Gimli: Toss me.
Aragorn: What?
Also, the constant jokes about Gimli's height! (No offence, cause I'm quite short too!):
Gimli: What's going on out there?
Legolas: Would you like me to describe it for you...or would you like me to find you a box?
Enough of my ramblings. Review!