AUTHOR: Kelso
RATING: R
SPOILERS: through "Salvage" (AtS episode 4x13) and "Storyteller" (BtVS episode 7x16)
SUMMARY: When Angelus returns, he leaves Los Angeles and goes to Sunnydale, where he encounters the First Evil, the SITs, and various other nuisances.
DISTRIBUTION: anywhere
WEBSITE: see my author profile for the link
DISCLAIMER: "Buffy" and "Angel" characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc.
NOTE: Set soon after Angelus kills the Beast.
Prologue
The little bastard, a.k.a. Connor, just wouldn't give up. He doggedly pursued Angelus through the alleys and sewers of Los Angeles, no matter how tangled the trail became. He even managed to track it across rooftops. Angelus was becoming seriously pissed off. It was bad enough that snot was his (well, Angel's) son in the first place. But why couldn't he have at least stayed in Quor-toth and never darkened Angelus' dimension?
The annoying kid wasn't alone, either. Faith and Wesley were with him, trying to bring three-to-one odds to bear against Angelus if they managed to catch him. The situation couldn't go on like this. Connor could track him in daylight, and Angelus' options were so much more limited then. He realized he had to make a stand soon. He was sick of playing games anyway. If Connor wouldn't back off on his own, he would have to be taught a serious lesson. It was time to stop running.
Or more precisely, almost time. Angelus slowed until his lead was dangerously narrowed, so that the trio practically salivated at the prospect of capturing him. Then he put on a stunning burst of speed that left them reeling in his wake. Connor quickly recovered and set off in pursuit, but a winded Wesley fell well behind. As Angelus had expected, Faith dropped back to stay with him. The setup was as good as he was going to get. He had separated Connor from the pack.
He rapidly led Connor a good two miles farther before he stopped, at bay, in a satisfactory location. He didn't doubt for a second that he could beat the kid at any sort of violent activity. Angel had been able to, even when pulling his punches, and Angelus was a better fighter than Angel could ever make. The ensuing scene was going to be short and ugly. Backed against the brick wall of a shabby hardware store, Angelus waited.
Connor soon loped up and halted 20 feet away. "You've stopped running. Good. We can finish this now."
"Exactly what I was thinking," Angelus agreed.
"I want to see your true face when I kill you," Connor continued. "I've been preparing for this my whole life."
Angelus shrugged and obligingly morphed. He fought better in demon face anyway. Prepared, he studied Connor and read the blatant overconfidence that would prove the child's downfall. He truly thought he could win, which meant Holtz had raised an idiot. "Show me what you have," Angelus ordered. "No holding back."
Connor nodded shortly and leaped forward with a fancy kick that might have surprised a less experienced opponent enough to give him the advantage. Angelus, however, ducked, grabbed the kid, and threw him face first into the dirty bricks. Connor spun around and lunged at him again. Angelus met him halfway and swatted him away, hurling Connor against the wall once more. Superior reflexes, however, enabled Connor to bounce back quickly even though he had taken the bulk of the damage so far.
They proceeded to trade a flurry of insignificant blows before Angelus drew out of range. He couldn't afford to waste too much time baiting Connor. While still fully confident he could take down the boy without breaking a figurative sweat, he preferred not to simultaneously face a Slayer and a former Watcher. He had to provoke Connor into giving him a huge opening so he could finish matters and have time to escape. "Come on, you little bastard," he taunted. "Is that all you've got?"
Connor swiped the blood from his mouth and flung himself at Angelus. It was the ideal opportunity. His "son" only managed to land a few minor hits before Angelus' powerful blows downed him.
Connor tried to put up a fight, but Angelus had little trouble pounding away at his vulnerable body. He had more pent-up rage than Connor, more skill, and better technique. Plus, he was just plain stronger. With every punishing blow, bone crunched beneath his fists or blood spurted from a fresh wound. Connor soon withdrew into his best attempt at a defensive posture, which lengthened his existence just slightly. Only when the body was battered to a pulp did Angelus withdraw. Connor let out a gasping cry that might have been "Dad" or something quite similar, but Angelus found that he didn't care as the limp figure slid to the ground at his feet.
Satisfied with this significant accomplishment, he brought his bloody hands up to his mouth to carefully lick them clean. Beating the shit out of someone always brought him a rare sense of joy, and the fact that the someone in this case had been Connor certainly didn't hurt matters.
Of course, there remained the little problems of Faith and Wesley, who had to be closing in. Abandoning the ruined body, Angelus lithely leaped onto the nearest rooftop and crouched to avoid being spotted. He had enough time to straighten his clothing and start to become bored before Faith appeared on the street below, moving at a steady jog. He knew the second she spotted Connor's body because her pace changed to a sprint. The amusement value of watching her try to find a pulse on the creepy kid lasted until several police cars pulled up nearby.
Angelus' last glimpse of Faith showed her cornered before the uniformed officers, making no attempt to fight her way free. It seemed she had developed a conscience during her stint in prison. Or, as Angelus preferred to phrase it, she'd gone soft. Either way, it worked to his advantage. He bet this time when they locked Faith up, they'd throw away the key. He shrugged. That possibility suited him just fine; she'd be out of his hair.
Faith's capture meant two down, one to go. Which meant it was time to find Wesley. Angelus bet he had probably spotted the police scene with Faith and run away rather than be arrested or detained himself. He was likely on his way back to the hotel at that very moment to break the bad news.
Carefully avoiding the views of those on the street below, Angelus crossed to the other side of the building and jumped down to retrace Faith's steps. Wesley's trail branched off a couple of blocks away, as expected leading in the direction of the hotel. After traveling several more streets Angelus caught sight of his prey and worked his way to the shadows behind him. Wesley was hurrying, making some attempt to remain vigilant but looking more concerned with returning home to report the fates of Connor and Faith. Then, predictably, he would help the gang try to regroup from their latest loss. They ought to just admit they were doomed and give up, making matters easier all around, but they were too stupid and self-righteous to ever do that.
Unless, maybe, they lost Wesley too. With a fang-filled grin, Angelus closed in on his latest victim.
Unluckily, as he moved his foot caught against a loose piece of brick on the ground and the scraping sound was just enough to alert Wesley to his presence. He was more aware of his surroundings than Angelus had expected and turned brandishing a stake. Angelus dodged, but not quickly enough to avoid injury. The stake struck him and a stabbing pain radiated throughout his chest. He looked down. The wood was embedded barely an inch from his heart. He reached down and worked it out, keeping a watchful eye on his enemy all the while. "Pretty good shot, Wes. And congratulations. You finally grew a pair. Who would have ever predicted it?"
Slowly backing away, Wesley replied, "Self preservation. Anyone would have done the same."
"Deliberately provoked me? I think not." Angelus stalked forward.
Wesley continued to edge backward. "I knew you would be coming. You're trying to pick us off."
"And it's working, isn't it? Though I was surprised Faith didn't run back there."
"She's changed. You ought to try it."
"What, become 'good' like your little gang?" Angelus laughed. "Been there, lived inside Angel, didn't like it for a second. Anyway, enough talk and not enough blood. Goodbye, Wesley."
He lunged forward. Wesley, frantically feeling for even a makeshift weapon, landed in a heap across the street. Angelus closed in again. Wesley jumped up, a pathetically small knife in hand. Angelus knocked him back once more, this time into the condemned building behind him. He paced closer; Wesley threw the knife at him before turning and running.
Batting the weapon out of the way was the work of a second. Following Wesley was a bit trickier. He had darted down an alley and vanished from sight. He couldn't have run all the way to the other end in those few seconds and there were no doors the length of the alley. Therefore, he must be hiding amidst the disgusting trash littering the place.
"Come on, Wesley," Angelus called as he began his hunt. "You know I'll find you. Might as well make it easy on yourself. As easy as it's going to get, at least."
No response. Angelus shoved aside a row of trash cans. No Wesley. He wasn't behind or inside the dumpster, either. That left...a ragged cardboard box with stains down the sides. Angelus sauntered over and prodded it with his foot. "Not much of a hiding place, but I suppose you had to try." He reached toward the open top to drag Wesley out by the hair, when his hand hit an invisible barrier. "What the hell is going on?" He tried again, and again the barrier stopped him. "What the fuck is the problem?"
Wesley's muffled voice emerged from below. "This is a a street person's box."
"'Street person'? Political correctness has really gone too far. You mean homeless."
"The box is a home, of a sort, since it is occupied by a street person," Wesley clarified. "Enough of a home, anyway, to provide me with sanctuary from you."
Unfortunately, Angelus realized, Wesley was right. The barrier wasn't going anywhere and he would have to be an idiot to come out of the box before the safety of dawn. Damn homeless people, getting illusions about themselves. What was the world coming to? The amusement value of seeing the former Watcher huddled up in a dingy cardboard structure was outweighed by the sheer inconvenience of the situation. Finishing Wesley off now had ceased to be a viable option. No, that little task would have to wait for later.
Angelus backed off, staring at his enemy. "It's your lucky night. I've got worse things to do than to waste my time sitting around here waiting for the sun to come up, so I'll spare you this time. Just remember, Wes, you owe me." He turned and sauntered away, considering his options. He saw only two that held much appeal at the moment. The first was to remain in Los Angeles and continue to spar with Angel's remaining friends. The second? Pay a visit to Sunnydale and pursue bigger game.
The decision wasn't very hard to make.
end prologue
Don't hate me because I killed Connor off; hate me because I enjoyed doing it. ;) And hey, I spared Wesley, who has become far cooler than Connor could ever dream of being.
Next time: Angelus arrives in Sunnydale only to find that things have changed since his last visit.