For disclaimer, etc. see chapter 1
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Major apologies are due. Skip actually turned out to be a bad guy, I'm really sorry for those who were confused. I hadn't actually watched S4 of Angel, just been spoiled for it, so I messed up. Really, really sorry.
I'm very, very sorry at how long this took, but I've been away on holiday, so at least it gave me a chance to get the creative juices going. I am also still looking for a beta reader, as reading through my previous chapters I was disappointed at the amount of mistakes, and yet still can't be bothered to read through them again myself, which I hate. Idolsgirl (beams) had agreed to beta some of my stories, but she hasn't seen most of Angel yet and doesn't want to be spoiled so I'm still looking. Besides, you can never have too many beta readers.
Also, if you don't like the pairings, get over it and stop reading this. There is no point in writing to me and saying, 'dat iz lik, soooooo gros. plz make dis b/a and show cool wes' because I'd keep on at whatever I was doing you didn't like just to bug you even if that wasn't my plot plan. I'm nice like that. :P
*****
Faith flushed with embarrassment, anger and horror as she quickly hissed at him, "Shhhhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone! She doesn't know. How did you know anywhere, you fucker?"
She glanced wildly around, and slumped with disbelief and more horror as she saw Angel still as a statue, eyes burning- not accusing, but shocked, and somehow angry, maybe angry that there was yet another in the running for Buffy's love. She closed her eyes, but almost instantly opened them again when she felt Buffy's lithe form slide onto her lap again, offering Faith a sip of her cocktails as she sucked the cherry off her cocktail stick. She appeared unaware of the three wide-eyed stares as she did it. Over her head, Faith frantically mouthed at the two vampires, "Don't tell her!"
Spike shrugged and Angel rejoined the conversation at the table, but she noticed them watching her occasionally throughout the rest of the evening.
***
Buffy recognized the tune filtering through her haze of contentment. She pondered it, and remembered it from the night- the night in the Bronze when she first properly kissed Spike, the start of their relationship. She'd denied the first one, but the second led to their later un-relationship. She sighed with regret, but then thought- this is the present. This isn't the past. I'm making a fresh start. Why not show it to him? She stood up, and took his unresisting, surprised hand, and led him to the dance floor. She laid her head on his shoulder, as his hesitant hand floated above the strands of hair flowing down her back and finally came to rest on it. The song spoke to them as they waltzed through the crowd.
Goodbye to you-ou, Goodbye to everything that I knew...
***
Back at Wolfram and Hart, Willow and Fred were curled up on the sofa in the latter's apartment with a tub of Ben and Jerry's and some thick, creamy hot chocolate. They chattered rapidly about the events earlier, and Fred babbled enthusiastically about her lab while Willow listened avidly for a while before they got down to the 'nitty-gritty' as the southern girl's parents used to say.
Fred dug her spoon into the ice-cream tub and held it poised above her mouth as she asked her question, her head tilted. "So, what's with that Faith girl? She seems really, kinda, I don't know. Loose?"
Willow laughed around her mouthful. "Faith used to really go in for guys, and was just in it for the," she made a gesture with her elbow, her hand occupied with her mug, "you, know, the jiggy. But she dated this high- school principal for a while, and it was beginning to get serious, more than smoochies. And then she had this bust-up with him, and he left the next day, barely said goodbye. She said he was too uptight, and treated her like one of his students. Which is perverted in a way. So, Faith is on a man-hunt."
Fred looked at her with large deer eyes, and shuddered a little. "Well, she doesn't sound like she'd take very good care of our guys. She'd better be nice, and keep her paws- and other things- off them," she proclaimed protectively.
Willow laughed again. "Nope, I think she knows to stay well away from Scoobies, and the W&H manmeats as well."
The brunette giggled. "Manmeat!" She grew shyer. "What about you. You said that you were, y'know, with someone." She flusteredly added, "Not that I'm prying, or anything. You don't have to tell me if it's private, or is it someone you came with?"
Willow brushed a wisp of hair from her eyes. "Uh, the girl I was with, Kennedy, we broke up. We didn't really have anything in common- she was completely oblivious to how magic and science work. She was also a little on the young side. I'm OK with it. There are plenty more candies in the bag. Although, some flavours are better than others. And some are really rare."
Fred smiled shyly, and ducked her head as she blustered about Knox, and how he'd been schemeing to bring back the evil version of Wolfram and Hart. She offered to show the redheaded witch her laboratory, and they ecstatically scurried down to it, talking a million miles an hour about things indecipherable to normal humans.
***
At the club, almost everybody had migrated to the dance floor. Buffy had disappeared to out back when the song finished, calling over her shoulder that she had seen a vampire leaving with an expensively dressed college student. Spike was leaning against the wall in the small courtyard at the side of the club to have a fag, and that left Cordelia and Angel guarding the various alcoholic drinks in a pregnant silence. Cordelia found it ironic when that phrase entered her head- a pregnant silence. She snickered without humour, and heaved a sigh before turning to Angel in her usual abrupt manner and telling him straight out, "Angel. I love you, but I'm not in love with you."
A pause. Then Angel seemed to slump, and Cordelia winced at the thought of the pain he was probably in- until she heard him breathing with abundant relief. He gratefully replied, "That makes my part so much easier. It's the same with me. Love, but not in love. I guess I was just really lonely... I wanted someone so badly, and you were my oldest friend, and I love you so much, I convinced myself it was that kind of love."
Cordelia nodded happily. "Me too! I know I had Groo, and I loved him, but it wasn't working, and it was so much easier to just let him go and tell myself it was you I wanted than break up with him." She lowered her eyes. "In Pylea... he told me what his life had been like. Ever since he was born, he was persecuted because he looked too human. I was the first ever to show him kindness, and I guess I felt guilty about bringing more sorrow to his life."
They entered a companionable silence, and when the music slowed yet again, Cordelia suddenly reached out, grabbing Angel's arm and yanking him from his seat into a hug before leading him to the dance floor. Cordelia grinned at his bemused expression.
***
The next morning, everybody was in their own room, sleeping soundly, for the most part. The hotel was deserted and almost silent, only the hum of the air conditioning and the infrequent flick as the night receptionist sleepily turned a page in his magazine disturbing the peace. At Wolfram and Hart, the LA crew were slumbering in a far less empty building. It wasn't unusual in the slightest for employees to stay late, especially considering the sort of business they dealed in. However, noise was kept to a minimum, and the demon hunters slept on undisturbed.
So everybody was in their own room, sleeping soundly- for the most part.
In Room 113 two young women were sharing a double bed and a nightmare. Many girls all over the world shared it. But not all. Between these two girls, they had managed to kick both the heavy duvet and the two sheets lying under and over them off the bed, and they were both writhing in a grotesque mimic of their earlier dancing. Eyeballs rolled and darted beneath twitching, flickering eyelids. Inside the dream, it didn't seem a nightmare at first. It was just people going about their everyday business. A bookie organising his accounts. A shop assistant artificially smiling at an overweight, elderly lady trying on lingerie. A retired banker driving to the golfing range. But throughout it all, was the persistent sense of wrongness. It took a while for them to figure it out.
Everybody was the same. All of the retirees; they all played golf. All the overweight ladies went shopping. All the bookies did accounts in the same way. Nobody was unique. Nobody made their own choices.
Free will had become non-existent.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Major apologies are due. Skip actually turned out to be a bad guy, I'm really sorry for those who were confused. I hadn't actually watched S4 of Angel, just been spoiled for it, so I messed up. Really, really sorry.
I'm very, very sorry at how long this took, but I've been away on holiday, so at least it gave me a chance to get the creative juices going. I am also still looking for a beta reader, as reading through my previous chapters I was disappointed at the amount of mistakes, and yet still can't be bothered to read through them again myself, which I hate. Idolsgirl (beams) had agreed to beta some of my stories, but she hasn't seen most of Angel yet and doesn't want to be spoiled so I'm still looking. Besides, you can never have too many beta readers.
Also, if you don't like the pairings, get over it and stop reading this. There is no point in writing to me and saying, 'dat iz lik, soooooo gros. plz make dis b/a and show cool wes' because I'd keep on at whatever I was doing you didn't like just to bug you even if that wasn't my plot plan. I'm nice like that. :P
*****
Faith flushed with embarrassment, anger and horror as she quickly hissed at him, "Shhhhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone! She doesn't know. How did you know anywhere, you fucker?"
She glanced wildly around, and slumped with disbelief and more horror as she saw Angel still as a statue, eyes burning- not accusing, but shocked, and somehow angry, maybe angry that there was yet another in the running for Buffy's love. She closed her eyes, but almost instantly opened them again when she felt Buffy's lithe form slide onto her lap again, offering Faith a sip of her cocktails as she sucked the cherry off her cocktail stick. She appeared unaware of the three wide-eyed stares as she did it. Over her head, Faith frantically mouthed at the two vampires, "Don't tell her!"
Spike shrugged and Angel rejoined the conversation at the table, but she noticed them watching her occasionally throughout the rest of the evening.
***
Buffy recognized the tune filtering through her haze of contentment. She pondered it, and remembered it from the night- the night in the Bronze when she first properly kissed Spike, the start of their relationship. She'd denied the first one, but the second led to their later un-relationship. She sighed with regret, but then thought- this is the present. This isn't the past. I'm making a fresh start. Why not show it to him? She stood up, and took his unresisting, surprised hand, and led him to the dance floor. She laid her head on his shoulder, as his hesitant hand floated above the strands of hair flowing down her back and finally came to rest on it. The song spoke to them as they waltzed through the crowd.
Goodbye to you-ou, Goodbye to everything that I knew...
***
Back at Wolfram and Hart, Willow and Fred were curled up on the sofa in the latter's apartment with a tub of Ben and Jerry's and some thick, creamy hot chocolate. They chattered rapidly about the events earlier, and Fred babbled enthusiastically about her lab while Willow listened avidly for a while before they got down to the 'nitty-gritty' as the southern girl's parents used to say.
Fred dug her spoon into the ice-cream tub and held it poised above her mouth as she asked her question, her head tilted. "So, what's with that Faith girl? She seems really, kinda, I don't know. Loose?"
Willow laughed around her mouthful. "Faith used to really go in for guys, and was just in it for the," she made a gesture with her elbow, her hand occupied with her mug, "you, know, the jiggy. But she dated this high- school principal for a while, and it was beginning to get serious, more than smoochies. And then she had this bust-up with him, and he left the next day, barely said goodbye. She said he was too uptight, and treated her like one of his students. Which is perverted in a way. So, Faith is on a man-hunt."
Fred looked at her with large deer eyes, and shuddered a little. "Well, she doesn't sound like she'd take very good care of our guys. She'd better be nice, and keep her paws- and other things- off them," she proclaimed protectively.
Willow laughed again. "Nope, I think she knows to stay well away from Scoobies, and the W&H manmeats as well."
The brunette giggled. "Manmeat!" She grew shyer. "What about you. You said that you were, y'know, with someone." She flusteredly added, "Not that I'm prying, or anything. You don't have to tell me if it's private, or is it someone you came with?"
Willow brushed a wisp of hair from her eyes. "Uh, the girl I was with, Kennedy, we broke up. We didn't really have anything in common- she was completely oblivious to how magic and science work. She was also a little on the young side. I'm OK with it. There are plenty more candies in the bag. Although, some flavours are better than others. And some are really rare."
Fred smiled shyly, and ducked her head as she blustered about Knox, and how he'd been schemeing to bring back the evil version of Wolfram and Hart. She offered to show the redheaded witch her laboratory, and they ecstatically scurried down to it, talking a million miles an hour about things indecipherable to normal humans.
***
At the club, almost everybody had migrated to the dance floor. Buffy had disappeared to out back when the song finished, calling over her shoulder that she had seen a vampire leaving with an expensively dressed college student. Spike was leaning against the wall in the small courtyard at the side of the club to have a fag, and that left Cordelia and Angel guarding the various alcoholic drinks in a pregnant silence. Cordelia found it ironic when that phrase entered her head- a pregnant silence. She snickered without humour, and heaved a sigh before turning to Angel in her usual abrupt manner and telling him straight out, "Angel. I love you, but I'm not in love with you."
A pause. Then Angel seemed to slump, and Cordelia winced at the thought of the pain he was probably in- until she heard him breathing with abundant relief. He gratefully replied, "That makes my part so much easier. It's the same with me. Love, but not in love. I guess I was just really lonely... I wanted someone so badly, and you were my oldest friend, and I love you so much, I convinced myself it was that kind of love."
Cordelia nodded happily. "Me too! I know I had Groo, and I loved him, but it wasn't working, and it was so much easier to just let him go and tell myself it was you I wanted than break up with him." She lowered her eyes. "In Pylea... he told me what his life had been like. Ever since he was born, he was persecuted because he looked too human. I was the first ever to show him kindness, and I guess I felt guilty about bringing more sorrow to his life."
They entered a companionable silence, and when the music slowed yet again, Cordelia suddenly reached out, grabbing Angel's arm and yanking him from his seat into a hug before leading him to the dance floor. Cordelia grinned at his bemused expression.
***
The next morning, everybody was in their own room, sleeping soundly, for the most part. The hotel was deserted and almost silent, only the hum of the air conditioning and the infrequent flick as the night receptionist sleepily turned a page in his magazine disturbing the peace. At Wolfram and Hart, the LA crew were slumbering in a far less empty building. It wasn't unusual in the slightest for employees to stay late, especially considering the sort of business they dealed in. However, noise was kept to a minimum, and the demon hunters slept on undisturbed.
So everybody was in their own room, sleeping soundly- for the most part.
In Room 113 two young women were sharing a double bed and a nightmare. Many girls all over the world shared it. But not all. Between these two girls, they had managed to kick both the heavy duvet and the two sheets lying under and over them off the bed, and they were both writhing in a grotesque mimic of their earlier dancing. Eyeballs rolled and darted beneath twitching, flickering eyelids. Inside the dream, it didn't seem a nightmare at first. It was just people going about their everyday business. A bookie organising his accounts. A shop assistant artificially smiling at an overweight, elderly lady trying on lingerie. A retired banker driving to the golfing range. But throughout it all, was the persistent sense of wrongness. It took a while for them to figure it out.
Everybody was the same. All of the retirees; they all played golf. All the overweight ladies went shopping. All the bookies did accounts in the same way. Nobody was unique. Nobody made their own choices.
Free will had become non-existent.