She walked through the streets of New York barely coherent, which, considering the number of drinks she'd consumed was a miracle. Normally she didn't do this, go out and get damned drunk that is. Only when she started remembering, and couldn't make herself stop did she turn to the little bar down the street. Doyle's Pub wasn't big or cleverly named, but it served good alcohol. Doyle, the owner, was familiar with the little blonde by now. She came in about once a month, he only remembered her because she wasn't his usual clientele, meaning she wasn't a man or loud and obnoxious. She sat in the corner quietly and drank; never spoke other than to order. Whenever she left, she was so drunk he worried about her, and therefore sent his partner to watch her and make sure she got home all right. After all, this was New York City, not the best place for a tiny blonde to be walking home drunk.
Unfortunately for Doyle tonight was Wes's birthday so he was at home with his wife celebrating. That meant that he wasn't there to make sure the blonde got home okay, but Doyle's cousin Liam was... "Hey, Liam. Wanna do ma a favor?" The little Irishman asked.
"What is it that ya want?" Angel questioned carefully.
"See the blonde through the window, she just left. She's drunk; just make sure she gets home safely. Oh, and be careful not ta get caught. It'd be bad for business if she went around tellin' people she was stalked after leaving the pub," Doyle said in his slight lilt. After being in American for over five years now, he was almost accent free.
"Sure. As long as ya promise not ta lock me out once I leave," Liam halfheartedly joked. Tiredly, he dragged himself out of his chair and left to follow the little lass out the door. Liam was so jet lagged from the trip over that he was not much better than the girl he was supposed to be following. He didn't even notice that she was no longer in front of him as he turned into the alley, but he quickly remembered as he was kicked onto his back. The "little lass" packed quite a bit of power when she wanted. She had noticed her stalker and immediately sobered up in the realization that someone was truly following her. She deftly spun up onto the pole spanning the alley and wanted. As her stalker came into view she let go and forced the much bigger man to the ground with her foot staying on his chest. "Why are you following me, I'm pretty sure stalking is illegal in all 50 states?" The girl asked.
"What do ya mean? I was not stalking; I was merely making sure ya got home safely. Name's Liam," Liam said in his strongly accented speech.
"If I had wanted an escort I would have called a cab. But I didn't, so obviously didn't want one," the girl said and turned to leave.
"Wait," Liam was intrigued by the sharp-witted girl, "can you at least tell me your name? You already know mine and I hardly think it fair that I be left wonderin'," Liam asked interestedly.
"Buffy, my name's Buffy. I'm going home now and you're not going to follow me," the blonde said exasperatedly. She was sober now, but that didn't mean she felt any better, in fact now all she wanted to do was go back to the pub and get drunk again. Instead, she turned on her heal and jumped up onto the fire escape and climbed in a nearby window. Liam watched as the little spitfire disappeared into the curtained window. Interesting girlhe thought as he walked back to the pub. He was suddenly a lot less tired. As he entered his cousin's business he was still thinking about Buffy. What a cool name. "Hey Doyle. You know the girl you had me follow. I think she can go home alone from now on. No one's sneaking up on her. I got to close I guess and she kicked my ass. Then she just jumped up onto a fire escape neat as you please. She's a strange one, and by the way her name's Buffy," Angel said.
"Fancy that. The lass has spunk. Good for her, but I'm a little bit surprised she took you down. She must be a quarter of your size," Doyle responded.
"Well, I am pretty tired..." Angel tried to explain.
"Sure you are Angel," Doyle allowed, automatically using Liam's old family nickname.
"Actually I am, so I'm gonna head up to bed. I probably won't see you tomorrow until late because of my meetings. Have a nice night," Angel said as he walked up the stairs to the apartment above the bar.
"Night Angel," Doyle called.
Buffy was so tired and worn that she just fell onto her bed without changing. She was almost asleep when she realized something. "FUCK!" She told Liam her name. Not only did she give him a name, she gave him her real name. Not a great thing for her to do considering the cops are looking for her, in a big way. "Buffy you are a fucking idiot. What the hell were you thinking?" she asked herself. oh well, can't do anything about it now. And anyways he had an accent and probably doesn't even live here. Chances are he's gonna go back to wherever he's from within a month. At least I didn't give him my last name, yea because there are so many Buffys around.. She punched her pillow, but resigned herself not to think about it anymore. what's done is done. Eventually she fell into an exhausted sleep.
While Buffy was still sleeping, even if it was plagued with nightmares, Angel was slamming a hand onto his alarm clock. God I hate that sound!he thought groggily. Automatically he grabbed his toiletry bag and headed for the shower. He was out ten minutes later freshly clean and shaven. After dressing in a fresh suit he grabbed his keys and prepared himself for New York rush hour.
After a crazy fifteen minutes of driving he pulled into a parking garage, showed the man his badge and parked his black mustang. His car stood out among the expensive SUVs and Beemers, but he didn't care. He just laughed at the stupidity of the people he worked with. SUVs and Beemers don't go nearly as fast as Mustangshe thought ruefully. He walked into the building standing tall and confident even as he got curious stares from nearly everyone. Taking the elevator to the top floor he got off and knocked on the only door.
"It's Angel," he called to the person on the other side of the door.
"Ah Angel, do come in," The older graying man said as he opened the door.
"Hey Giles, how are you old man?" Angel asked congenially.
"I'm fine, but not old. Not yet at least," Giles said while patting his thinning hair.
"Did I call you old, I meant young stud," Angel said teasingly.
"That's better. So how are you? Was your flight alright? And your cousin Doyle how's he?" Giles shot at him.
"I'm fine, just tired. My flight was...long. And Doyle is great. Still getting people drunk. So Giles, why am I here? I have been in Ireland for almost seven years, why bring me home now? What does the agency want?" Angel asked getting down to business.
"The thing is, we need your help here. From your reports activity has been slowing down in Galway, and it's just been increasing steadily over the past year here. It's almost as if something is drawing them here. Xander and Spike are almost getting in over they're heads. They can't handle the increase, so we called you back." Giles answered Angel matter-of-factly.
"What the hell would draw anyone to New York City let alone demons and vampires?" Angel questioned.
"That's the problem. We have no idea. I even have Willow researching almost nonstop, but she can't find any prophecy that would explain it."
"Whatever. It doesn't matter why they're here. I'm only here to kill them. I can do that. I'll patrol tonight. ALONE!"
"Angel, you can't go out alone. We've gone over this already. I don't care how good you are it's not protocol. Spike will meet you at the statue in Central Park at 10. You will be there." Giles said knowing full well that Angel would not be there, but at least he told him to.
"Fine," Angel said already planning to not show. "Alright I'm gonna head out. Get a feel for the city again. It's been a while."
"Goodbye. Oh and Angel," Angel turned to look at him "it really is good to see you again," Giles, said.
"You too old man," Angel said cheekily before heading out the door. Some things never changeGiles thought to himself.
Unfortunately for Doyle tonight was Wes's birthday so he was at home with his wife celebrating. That meant that he wasn't there to make sure the blonde got home okay, but Doyle's cousin Liam was... "Hey, Liam. Wanna do ma a favor?" The little Irishman asked.
"What is it that ya want?" Angel questioned carefully.
"See the blonde through the window, she just left. She's drunk; just make sure she gets home safely. Oh, and be careful not ta get caught. It'd be bad for business if she went around tellin' people she was stalked after leaving the pub," Doyle said in his slight lilt. After being in American for over five years now, he was almost accent free.
"Sure. As long as ya promise not ta lock me out once I leave," Liam halfheartedly joked. Tiredly, he dragged himself out of his chair and left to follow the little lass out the door. Liam was so jet lagged from the trip over that he was not much better than the girl he was supposed to be following. He didn't even notice that she was no longer in front of him as he turned into the alley, but he quickly remembered as he was kicked onto his back. The "little lass" packed quite a bit of power when she wanted. She had noticed her stalker and immediately sobered up in the realization that someone was truly following her. She deftly spun up onto the pole spanning the alley and wanted. As her stalker came into view she let go and forced the much bigger man to the ground with her foot staying on his chest. "Why are you following me, I'm pretty sure stalking is illegal in all 50 states?" The girl asked.
"What do ya mean? I was not stalking; I was merely making sure ya got home safely. Name's Liam," Liam said in his strongly accented speech.
"If I had wanted an escort I would have called a cab. But I didn't, so obviously didn't want one," the girl said and turned to leave.
"Wait," Liam was intrigued by the sharp-witted girl, "can you at least tell me your name? You already know mine and I hardly think it fair that I be left wonderin'," Liam asked interestedly.
"Buffy, my name's Buffy. I'm going home now and you're not going to follow me," the blonde said exasperatedly. She was sober now, but that didn't mean she felt any better, in fact now all she wanted to do was go back to the pub and get drunk again. Instead, she turned on her heal and jumped up onto the fire escape and climbed in a nearby window. Liam watched as the little spitfire disappeared into the curtained window. Interesting girlhe thought as he walked back to the pub. He was suddenly a lot less tired. As he entered his cousin's business he was still thinking about Buffy. What a cool name. "Hey Doyle. You know the girl you had me follow. I think she can go home alone from now on. No one's sneaking up on her. I got to close I guess and she kicked my ass. Then she just jumped up onto a fire escape neat as you please. She's a strange one, and by the way her name's Buffy," Angel said.
"Fancy that. The lass has spunk. Good for her, but I'm a little bit surprised she took you down. She must be a quarter of your size," Doyle responded.
"Well, I am pretty tired..." Angel tried to explain.
"Sure you are Angel," Doyle allowed, automatically using Liam's old family nickname.
"Actually I am, so I'm gonna head up to bed. I probably won't see you tomorrow until late because of my meetings. Have a nice night," Angel said as he walked up the stairs to the apartment above the bar.
"Night Angel," Doyle called.
Buffy was so tired and worn that she just fell onto her bed without changing. She was almost asleep when she realized something. "FUCK!" She told Liam her name. Not only did she give him a name, she gave him her real name. Not a great thing for her to do considering the cops are looking for her, in a big way. "Buffy you are a fucking idiot. What the hell were you thinking?" she asked herself. oh well, can't do anything about it now. And anyways he had an accent and probably doesn't even live here. Chances are he's gonna go back to wherever he's from within a month. At least I didn't give him my last name, yea because there are so many Buffys around.. She punched her pillow, but resigned herself not to think about it anymore. what's done is done. Eventually she fell into an exhausted sleep.
While Buffy was still sleeping, even if it was plagued with nightmares, Angel was slamming a hand onto his alarm clock. God I hate that sound!he thought groggily. Automatically he grabbed his toiletry bag and headed for the shower. He was out ten minutes later freshly clean and shaven. After dressing in a fresh suit he grabbed his keys and prepared himself for New York rush hour.
After a crazy fifteen minutes of driving he pulled into a parking garage, showed the man his badge and parked his black mustang. His car stood out among the expensive SUVs and Beemers, but he didn't care. He just laughed at the stupidity of the people he worked with. SUVs and Beemers don't go nearly as fast as Mustangshe thought ruefully. He walked into the building standing tall and confident even as he got curious stares from nearly everyone. Taking the elevator to the top floor he got off and knocked on the only door.
"It's Angel," he called to the person on the other side of the door.
"Ah Angel, do come in," The older graying man said as he opened the door.
"Hey Giles, how are you old man?" Angel asked congenially.
"I'm fine, but not old. Not yet at least," Giles said while patting his thinning hair.
"Did I call you old, I meant young stud," Angel said teasingly.
"That's better. So how are you? Was your flight alright? And your cousin Doyle how's he?" Giles shot at him.
"I'm fine, just tired. My flight was...long. And Doyle is great. Still getting people drunk. So Giles, why am I here? I have been in Ireland for almost seven years, why bring me home now? What does the agency want?" Angel asked getting down to business.
"The thing is, we need your help here. From your reports activity has been slowing down in Galway, and it's just been increasing steadily over the past year here. It's almost as if something is drawing them here. Xander and Spike are almost getting in over they're heads. They can't handle the increase, so we called you back." Giles answered Angel matter-of-factly.
"What the hell would draw anyone to New York City let alone demons and vampires?" Angel questioned.
"That's the problem. We have no idea. I even have Willow researching almost nonstop, but she can't find any prophecy that would explain it."
"Whatever. It doesn't matter why they're here. I'm only here to kill them. I can do that. I'll patrol tonight. ALONE!"
"Angel, you can't go out alone. We've gone over this already. I don't care how good you are it's not protocol. Spike will meet you at the statue in Central Park at 10. You will be there." Giles said knowing full well that Angel would not be there, but at least he told him to.
"Fine," Angel said already planning to not show. "Alright I'm gonna head out. Get a feel for the city again. It's been a while."
"Goodbye. Oh and Angel," Angel turned to look at him "it really is good to see you again," Giles, said.
"You too old man," Angel said cheekily before heading out the door. Some things never changeGiles thought to himself.