UNDECIDED FATE
NOTE: These Angel characters aren't mine but the ones that I make up are.
A/N: I'm finally able to start up a new Angel story? Isn't it like so totally radical? Yeah, I'm the only person left in the world who says that. I'm aware. This story takes place after Destiny. Enjoy!
CHAPTER 2
"The guy swoops down in front of the girl and he becomes like a total hero. Then the girl looks at him all closely and stuff and then… and then…"
"Then what?" Oz prodded his fifteen-year-old godsister, Chelsea.
"That's… all I got," Chelsea told him.
"Look, Chelly, it's not that I don't enjoy your stories, it's just that you never know how they end," said Oz.
"That is like so totally not my fault," Chelsea argued as they walked down the street, large ice cream cones in hand. "They always end too fast."
"How can they end if you're making them up?" Oz nearly laughed.
"I don't know," Chelsea actually laughed. "One minute there's this awesome story in my head and then it goes all vanish-y."
"Well, I'd like to hear an ending."
"You are being so totally snappy like," said Chelsea. "You're not having one of your grr moments, are you?"
"No. No grr, no argh," Oz assured her. "Not this time of month, anyway."
"Don't you hate those certain times of month?" Chelsea asked him. "I mean with the cramps and the bloating and the- wait, I'm having a female moment. Sorry." Chelsea pulled her shoulder length blonde hair from in front of her brown eyes as Oz released a laugh.
"Your parents should go out of town more often," he said, taking a seat on a bench.
"You mean more than two billion times out of a year?" Chelsea asked, sitting next to him. "I don't know. I love them; it's just that they're always… not here. And it makes for the loneliness."
"Thanks for insulting me."
"Oh, no, Ozzy, not what I meant," said Chelsea. "You are totally the most perfect godbrother in the history of all godbrothers. You're always here, always at the apartment with me."
"You just wish your mom and dad would be more… around?" Oz suggested. Chelsea nodded. "Hey, no worries, kid. While they're in Hong Kong for the millionth time we'll be here in New York throwing all night keggers. Well, you're only fifteen so it's more like all night pizza parties, but you know what I mean."
Chelsea giggled lightly and took a lick of the strawberry ice cream cone she held.
That night Faith entered a park she had been led to, crunching twigs and sticks under her large boots. She glanced around then sighed deeply, realizing she didn't exactly have anything to look for. Faith went over and took a seat on a nearby picnic table. Her ears suddenly began to perk as she heard what sounded like heavy breathing coming her way.
Faith jumped up from the table immediately to see what was behind her. Nothing was there, though. Just the black of the night. She shrugged before turning back around, only to see a man in a suit standing in front of her. He wasn't any ordinary man, though. His eyes looked as if he'd had heavy stitches done and the top of his head looked as if it was rotting.
"Hungry," he hissed.
"What, am I an appetizer now?" Faith asked him.
"Hungry," he hissed again suddenly jumping at her.
Faith jumped to the side, rolling over on the ground, her hair getting in her face. She got up again and faced the demon that still chanted, "Hungry." Faith tossed her backpack of clothes aside and reached in her pocket, pulling out a stake. She lunged at the demon and stabbed him in the heart, only to see that he didn't turn to dust.
"OK, non-vampire," Faith nodded. "Gotta stop making that mistake."
"Hungry!" the demon screeched at her then suddenly reached out and slapped at her cheek, making her go flying into a tree.
"Ugh," Faith groaned. "Somebody's mama didn't teach him to play nice."
The demon approached her slowly. "I… am… hungry!" Suddenly the creature that looked like a man fell to the side as a dark figure swooped in.
"Feeling a bit peckish myself," Spike said.
Faith stopped and stared at him closely for a moment. "Spike?" she whispered in disbelief.
"In the flesh," Spike replied then added, "Well, recently, anyway."
"What the—" Faith had no time to question him as the demon they had been fighting arose again. "Oh, great." She stood up and gave the beast a swift kick in the chest, only making him go back a couple of inches.
"Faith!" Spike called as the slayer continued to fight.
Faith looked over at Spike, who tossed her a sword. Faith caught it instantly then turned back to the demon. Before he could say hungry once more she gave the sword a click slash through the air, chopping off his head.
Faith sighed then turned to Spike. "I would say thanks, but that my cloud my judgment to drop kick your ass."
"You slayers and the drop kicking," Spike shook his head. "I'll never understand it."
"Spike, what the hell are you doing here and even alive?"
"Don't know exactly," Spike responded. "Seems a bloke can't catch a moment of eternal peace in this life."
"How long have you been back?" Faith questioned him. "Does B know?"
Spike looked down and replied lowly, "No."
Faith scoffed. "Don't believe this. I came all this way just because I got some cheap ass letter from you."
Spike glanced up at her and said, "Sorry to disappoint you, but I was the one who received the cheap ass letter."
"Wait a minute." Faith approached him, getting into his face. "If you didn't send me that thing then who did?"
"You killed it." Spike and Faith turned around then to see Tara, who stood over the demon's dead body. "Amazing."
"You have to be kidding me," was all Spike said.
"Tara?" Faith recognized. "Willow's girlfriend?" Tara nodded with a slight smile. "Wow. Oh, hey, sorry about the… dying and all."
"Didn't exactly stay dead," said Tara. "No white light at the end of the tunnel. Well, there was light, just not the pretty kind that you're thinking of."
"What happened to you?" Faith asked her.
"The Power that Be," Tara replied. "They sort of recruited me. I'm their new messenger."
"Don't you hate it when they take you out of that eternal slumber?" Spike asked. Tara just nodded in agreement.
"Great," said Faith in exasperation. "Just great. I'm having an "I see dead people" night. Don't I get all the luck in life?"
"Faith, it's OK," Tara promised her, her voice as gentle as ever. "You were both supposed to be brought here for a reason."
"In New York?" Faith asked. "I'm guessing we're not here to review the Lion King on Broadway."
"I loved that movie." Faith and Tara turned their attention to Spike, giving him a strange look. "Sorry. Go on."
"You two have to help someone." Tara removed a picture from the inside of the jacket she wore. "Here."
Faith took the picture from her and looked at it. It was in black and white, but it was clear that the girl in the picture had blonde hair and either brown or dark blue eyes.
"Who is this kid?" Faith asked as Spike walked up to peek at the picture over her shoulder.
"Chelsea Brookes," Tara explained. "She lives here in New York City."
"Pretty chit," Spike commented. He glanced up at Tara. "What's so grand about her?"
"She's only a teenager and she's already developing the powers of a seer. Her breed of seer requires that you develop the powers when you're at least in your thirties," Tara continued the explanation. "The two of you have to get to her."
"Why us?" Faith wanted to know.
"Can you suggest anyone else?" Tara reasoned. "Angel has LA to worry about and Buffy's in Rome. They can't be here."
"Second bests," Faith released a breath. "How special."
"I'll be seeing you soon," said Tara.
"Hold on a minute," Spike stopped her. "You can't just leave. Where is this girl? How are we supposed to find her exactly?"
"I'll be seeing you soon," Tara repeated. A blanket of sparkling lights consumed her and she was gone.
Faith turned to Spike and said, "Fun stuff, huh?"
Spike shrugged and started to walk off. "Getting visited by the ghosts of cryptic past. Bloody brilliant."
Faith walked after him, seeing him get in the driver's seat of a red and black sports car. "Whoa." She leaned against the side door of the car. "Dude, where'd you get the mad wheels?"
"Angel," Spike replied. "He was giddy to get me away from Wolfram and Hart that he was willing to do just about anything."
"Stole it?"
Spike muttered, "Maybe that was it."
A/N: I'm off to think of tasty ideas for dinner. Please review!
