A/N Just to clear up the timeline issue here, everything on AtS is the
same. This takes place between Forgiven and The Price.
Bear with me here, I've never actually done Angel POV before and it's a lot harder then I thought.
~ ~ ~
The night is silent.
Which is good, because I like it better this way.
It's been long time since I've just walked the streets, searching for a fight. Since Cordy started with the visions. . . no, since Doyle came to me everything's been about the mission. I've forgotten what it's like to hunt down the taste of fear or spilled blood, to follow the shadows out of faith that they'll show the true darkness.
Didn't realize how much I've missed it.
The idea is to devote myself entirely to the hunt, but I can't keep my mind from wandering. Over 300 years of trying to forget and I can't even have a moment of blissful ignorance.
Not that I deserve it anyway.
My mind keeps drifting back to Holts. Angelus had taken the disappearance of the vampire hunter with apprehension. Probably been taken down by a fellow demon, or had fallen to a mortal death. Did keep an eye out for him years afterwards, always did want to feed from that bastard. The trouble he had caused me and mine, stalking us like he was the predator. . .
Looking back on it, what I think drove him to destroy me - beyond the fact that I had slaughtered his family - was he was just a little bit to obsessed. Most people, mortals that is, have something to live for. Guess I killed off his lot in life because he devoted himself entirely to making my unlife hell.
Shrugging off the thoughts I emerge from the shadows and enter the commercial area of LA. The lights and sounds are distracting, albeit irritating, but for now I'll deal. Always had been Darla's thing to pick off prey and feed from them in a crowded street. Thought it was funny how humans become mesmerized with their pocket watch and suddenly changed the direction in which they were headed. All so they didn't have to come to terms with the darkness surrounding them.
My sire always did have a sick sense of humor, and I would of hated her for eternity if it hadn't been for what she left behind.
Connor.
Just the thought of the name forces me to stop and regain myself.
Anything, I can think of anything but him.
So my thoughts revert back to the thing I always try to keep away; Buffy.
I haven't seen her since Dawns funeral, and I didn't bother joining her for the wedding. Maybe it's because it would hurt to much to see her happy. . . knowing she's found the embrace of someone else, the love of another man. . .
I don't even like Riley, the boy is a wash out and wanna be. What Buffy sees in him I'll never know. As long as she's happy though. . . that's all I ever wanted for her.
It's the reason I left.
It's about time I give her a call, maybe even go down to Sunnydale and pay her a visit. Don't know what's there for me anymore, the women I love is with another man and the people I knew were never what I would consider friends.
Way I hear it though, Spike has converted, working for the side of good. Even I can find the humor in that, considering it's because of a chip and lust for a Slayer he can never have.
I may not be able to hold her, but at least I know she still cares. That she still loves me. I almost pity Spike, so damn obsessed with her it's almost human. And he'll never have her.
Buffy can surprise me ten different ways to Sunday, but I know she'd never give into the vampire.
With that thought I stop again, blinking. A man brushes past me, knocking my shoulder with his. I'd be bothered if I wasn't so stunned at the moment.
Why on earth I'm a worried about Spike and Buffy?
Shaking my head, I keep walking. I guess. . . in all honesty I worry because a human I can deal with. Riley, as much as he pretends to be more then he is, the boy is only mortal. Buffy. . . or the Slayer insides her, hungers for more then that. Buffy can keep her primal instincts under control, but still, she knows I can feed that hunger.
She probably knows Spike can too.
But I'm being paranoid, because I know that Buffy would never allow that with Spike.
Besides, she's married now.
Thing is now, I can't get Spike out of my head. I don't really care for my grandchilde, didn't even talk to him at the funeral. But we are related, born from the same blood and derived from the same line, I guess apart of me feels I should tell him about Darla's death, and about Connor. . .
And here I am, thinking about Connor again.
I turn my head up toward the sky and notice there's no moon out tonight. The sky is cast in hazy fog that obscures the stars and morphs the azure night to a gray palate. I have to stop thinking.
300 years of brooding, I'm sick of it.
I need a fight, I need to kill something.
Suddenly, I feel something in the air and I quickly move forward, pushing through the crowded streets. It's as if the Powers That Be are finally granting me a scrap of kindness, blessing me with something, even if it is only a demon to kill.
It's hard to make out the scent through the humans around me, but I finally pick it up in a convenience store. I push open the doors and step in, scanning the small area.
It's quite, near empty and I don't see a single demon.
I walk further in and sniff the air. The scent is familiar, something. . . or someone I know. That's not a good thought because that means the demon is something I don't want to kill, or something I can't.
Slowly, I peek through each aisle, tensing up for whatever I find.
What I do find completely floors me.
Standing in the toiletries aisle and examining a toothbrush is Spike.
I can't help but stare and gawk at the peroxide blonde in that damn duster he always wears, reading over a toothbrush box. I'm only stunned for so long before I become pissed however and remember I don't like Spike, especially a Spike that's in my town.
He must of felt something because he turns and stares right back at me. A look of confusion washes over his face and quickly melts to amusement.
I swear, my line has the most insane sense of humor. Just look at Dru.
I don't say anything, the tension in the air does all the talking. He knows if he makes any sudden movements I'll tear his head off, soul or no, he's still a demon.
He gives me a grin before walking toward me, I clench my fists for the an anticipated fight, but he just pushes past me toward the cash register. I stand still for a moment before turning around and watch as he pays for the toothbrush. He sends me one last glance before disappearing out the door. His eyes are filled with interest, I just glare back.
Any notion I had of telling Spike the loss our family has suffered is gone. It's funny how easily you forget how much you hate some people until you see them again. The only thing I wonder is what he's doing out of Sunnydale, probably was kicked out by Buffy, or just decided to leave. Would be the first smart thing he's ever done.
Still doesn't explain what he's doing with a toothbrush.
Bear with me here, I've never actually done Angel POV before and it's a lot harder then I thought.
~ ~ ~
The night is silent.
Which is good, because I like it better this way.
It's been long time since I've just walked the streets, searching for a fight. Since Cordy started with the visions. . . no, since Doyle came to me everything's been about the mission. I've forgotten what it's like to hunt down the taste of fear or spilled blood, to follow the shadows out of faith that they'll show the true darkness.
Didn't realize how much I've missed it.
The idea is to devote myself entirely to the hunt, but I can't keep my mind from wandering. Over 300 years of trying to forget and I can't even have a moment of blissful ignorance.
Not that I deserve it anyway.
My mind keeps drifting back to Holts. Angelus had taken the disappearance of the vampire hunter with apprehension. Probably been taken down by a fellow demon, or had fallen to a mortal death. Did keep an eye out for him years afterwards, always did want to feed from that bastard. The trouble he had caused me and mine, stalking us like he was the predator. . .
Looking back on it, what I think drove him to destroy me - beyond the fact that I had slaughtered his family - was he was just a little bit to obsessed. Most people, mortals that is, have something to live for. Guess I killed off his lot in life because he devoted himself entirely to making my unlife hell.
Shrugging off the thoughts I emerge from the shadows and enter the commercial area of LA. The lights and sounds are distracting, albeit irritating, but for now I'll deal. Always had been Darla's thing to pick off prey and feed from them in a crowded street. Thought it was funny how humans become mesmerized with their pocket watch and suddenly changed the direction in which they were headed. All so they didn't have to come to terms with the darkness surrounding them.
My sire always did have a sick sense of humor, and I would of hated her for eternity if it hadn't been for what she left behind.
Connor.
Just the thought of the name forces me to stop and regain myself.
Anything, I can think of anything but him.
So my thoughts revert back to the thing I always try to keep away; Buffy.
I haven't seen her since Dawns funeral, and I didn't bother joining her for the wedding. Maybe it's because it would hurt to much to see her happy. . . knowing she's found the embrace of someone else, the love of another man. . .
I don't even like Riley, the boy is a wash out and wanna be. What Buffy sees in him I'll never know. As long as she's happy though. . . that's all I ever wanted for her.
It's the reason I left.
It's about time I give her a call, maybe even go down to Sunnydale and pay her a visit. Don't know what's there for me anymore, the women I love is with another man and the people I knew were never what I would consider friends.
Way I hear it though, Spike has converted, working for the side of good. Even I can find the humor in that, considering it's because of a chip and lust for a Slayer he can never have.
I may not be able to hold her, but at least I know she still cares. That she still loves me. I almost pity Spike, so damn obsessed with her it's almost human. And he'll never have her.
Buffy can surprise me ten different ways to Sunday, but I know she'd never give into the vampire.
With that thought I stop again, blinking. A man brushes past me, knocking my shoulder with his. I'd be bothered if I wasn't so stunned at the moment.
Why on earth I'm a worried about Spike and Buffy?
Shaking my head, I keep walking. I guess. . . in all honesty I worry because a human I can deal with. Riley, as much as he pretends to be more then he is, the boy is only mortal. Buffy. . . or the Slayer insides her, hungers for more then that. Buffy can keep her primal instincts under control, but still, she knows I can feed that hunger.
She probably knows Spike can too.
But I'm being paranoid, because I know that Buffy would never allow that with Spike.
Besides, she's married now.
Thing is now, I can't get Spike out of my head. I don't really care for my grandchilde, didn't even talk to him at the funeral. But we are related, born from the same blood and derived from the same line, I guess apart of me feels I should tell him about Darla's death, and about Connor. . .
And here I am, thinking about Connor again.
I turn my head up toward the sky and notice there's no moon out tonight. The sky is cast in hazy fog that obscures the stars and morphs the azure night to a gray palate. I have to stop thinking.
300 years of brooding, I'm sick of it.
I need a fight, I need to kill something.
Suddenly, I feel something in the air and I quickly move forward, pushing through the crowded streets. It's as if the Powers That Be are finally granting me a scrap of kindness, blessing me with something, even if it is only a demon to kill.
It's hard to make out the scent through the humans around me, but I finally pick it up in a convenience store. I push open the doors and step in, scanning the small area.
It's quite, near empty and I don't see a single demon.
I walk further in and sniff the air. The scent is familiar, something. . . or someone I know. That's not a good thought because that means the demon is something I don't want to kill, or something I can't.
Slowly, I peek through each aisle, tensing up for whatever I find.
What I do find completely floors me.
Standing in the toiletries aisle and examining a toothbrush is Spike.
I can't help but stare and gawk at the peroxide blonde in that damn duster he always wears, reading over a toothbrush box. I'm only stunned for so long before I become pissed however and remember I don't like Spike, especially a Spike that's in my town.
He must of felt something because he turns and stares right back at me. A look of confusion washes over his face and quickly melts to amusement.
I swear, my line has the most insane sense of humor. Just look at Dru.
I don't say anything, the tension in the air does all the talking. He knows if he makes any sudden movements I'll tear his head off, soul or no, he's still a demon.
He gives me a grin before walking toward me, I clench my fists for the an anticipated fight, but he just pushes past me toward the cash register. I stand still for a moment before turning around and watch as he pays for the toothbrush. He sends me one last glance before disappearing out the door. His eyes are filled with interest, I just glare back.
Any notion I had of telling Spike the loss our family has suffered is gone. It's funny how easily you forget how much you hate some people until you see them again. The only thing I wonder is what he's doing out of Sunnydale, probably was kicked out by Buffy, or just decided to leave. Would be the first smart thing he's ever done.
Still doesn't explain what he's doing with a toothbrush.