Ready for more Hollywood antics? Things will only get more entertaining from here on in… Weasy
Part Four
//These days "you don't have to be special to be famous, being famous makes you special" –EDTV but even 'special' people have flaws.//
Buffy crept across the plush carpets of the Hyperion Hotel, the place looked shockingly different after dark, the rich reds and gold's had transcended into soft blacks and blues and ivory patches of moonlight danced along the floors.
A floorboard creaked precariously under her weight and she jumped away from it anxiously, only to land on an even louder board. Wincing at her inability to be quiet she padded softly down the stairs barefoot, her shoes dangling from her grip. At the foot of the stairs the blinking lights of the lobby motion sensors were conspicuously absent. If beyond a little odd that the alarm wasn't on, it saved Buffy a long crawl across the floor to the back door. Down stairs it was much darker, and Buffy was forced to walk with her hands spread in front of her to guide her movements.
Letting the wall slip under her fingers as she walked along the walls she met the doorway with a sudden thump. Slowly manoeuvring herself in the near pitch dark she tried to negotiate entering the room only to smack her hip forcefully into the doorframe. Hissing in pain she gripped the bone tightly. Slipping on her shoes she crosses the gargantuan kitchen and triumphantly twisted the back door handle. The door just rattled in its frame.
"Shit." She muttered, leaning heavily against the door, so her forehead touched the cool glass of the window. Growling in frustration she slammed her fists against the door.
"I've got the key." Slurred a familiar voice behind her.
Heart sinking Buffy threw her arms to the sky in frustration. "This couldn't get any worse could it?" Slumped against the door she twisted to face her inquisitor. Angel was sprawled out on the kitchen counter, his tie hung loose around his neck and most of his shirt buttons were undone, leaving a delectable view of the small wall of his chest. His clothing was crumpled and creased and his normally perfectly coifed hair stuck out at odd angles from his head. A nearly empty Vodka bottle was loosely gripped in one fist.
"You can have it." He added and Buffy raised an eyebrow at him puzzled "Key. 'S kinda shiny." He patted his pockets absently, a moment of clarity seemed to strike him and he sat up abruptly – only to smack his head loudly against the overhead shelving. Collapsing back onto the bench Angel reached out for Buffy, "Ionuin…" Leaning too far he started to slowly topple over the edge…
Buffy was across the room in an instant propping Angel back up, she started scanning the room desperately. Spotting what she was looking for, the kitchen sink set a little further down into the marble counters. Making sure Angel was in a slightly less precarious position she half-listened to his ramblings, he was talking in some rich tongue she didn't understand, of course given his state inebriated state it possible wasn't even a language. Randomly opening cupboards Buffy made it halfway across the kitchen before she found what she was looking for, a big plastic measuring jug. Smiling wickedly to herself she filled it with cold water. Steeling her nerves she carried the huge jug over to Angel… and poured the contents over his head.
Five very strong cups of black coffee later and Angel was about as sober as he was going to get, and he and Buffy migrated to the sofa with Hot Chocolate. Angel was crashed out with a cold cloth on his forehead, Buffy sat on his other side, having changed back into her pyjamas, with her legs curled up around her.
"You don't have to stay. It doesn't matter… about the press. You can leave if that's what you want." Angel repeated, stumbling over his words.
"It's not you." Buffy replied quickly, fiddling self-consciously with the hem of her shirt.
"It's me." Angel intoned quirking one eyebrow.
"Hey!" Buffy half-heartedly threw a cushion at his head at the interruption. "I'm trying to be all honest and your mocking my fellow sex!"
"I'd never mock your sex." The innuendo was clear and Buffy collapsed back into the sofa to hide her embarrassment.
"See here I an having a dodgy conversation with a billionaire film star and I don't get to be all secretive about it tomorrow with Wil and Xand."
"Wil and Xand?"
"Willow and Xander, they've been my best friends since I moved to Sunnydale. They know everything about me. It's… wrong somehow that they don't know about this." She explained.
"It must be nice to be allowed to be that close to someone."
"You've got Kaitlyn and Giles, don't try to make me pity you." Buffy warned.
"Kaitlyn's my sister, I can't tell her *everything* and it's the same with Giles." He rubbed the close irritably over his head, and Buffy automatically leaned over him to take his temperature… only to find herself leaning over Angel, in a full bodied way. Pulse racing her eyes met his, and her breathing hitch in anticipation –
"So, uh, your friends." He muttered and she quickly moved back to her previous position "I made arrangements for them to stay here."
Buffy's eyes lit up, impulsively hugging Angel she breathed in his heady masculine scent, ivory soap mixed with the tangy scent of alcohol. Leaning back she twisted to face him, one hand resting lightly on his arm. "Thank-you." She smiled softly before continuing "Explain the alcohol."
"Oh." He laughed "Character preparation."
"Prep work?" She echoed
"I have a guest star of friends soon."
"Really?" She moved closer eagerly.
"Do you want to help me with my lines?" He asked suddenly, after studying her earnest face for a few moments.
"Uh, okay." She agreed slowly, uncertain what he was asking off her, and somewhat in awe that she was to be held privy to the scripts of unaired episodes.
"The scripts are in the window seat, could you…"
"Sure." Buffy quickly unfolded her legs and headed over to the padded bay window, under the lid were piles of embroidered cushions. She turned to Angel questioningly.
"They're right at the bottom. So Kat can't find them." Quickly pulling the cushions out she stacked them up around her, at the very bottom of the seat sat a stack of about twenty scripts. Flicking through the titles she found scripts as diverse as Steven Spielberg and Oscar Wilde stacked neatly together as well as more from writers and directors she'd never heard off. Restraining herself from delving into the script of something called 'Becoming' she pulled out the 'Friends' script. She almost laughed at it's appearance, a sturdy black binder with basic fonts glared up at her. Pulling it out she stuffed the cushions back into the oak-lined box and quickly headed back to the sofa.
Settling cross-legged onto the coach she thumbed the pages impatiently while she waited for Angel to shakily stand. When he finally stood in front of her, silhouetted against the fire-place he took a moment to cough the last remains of the alcohol out of his lungs. When he straightened up he looked fine. His stooped gait, and haggard appearance that had all pointed towards his recent alcohol abuse had all faded away, leaving him looking totally normal. Dashing and handsome, with the tiniest glint of danger in his soulful eyes. Finally tearing her gaze away she concentrated on the script in her lap instead of the sudden temperature increase. "What's your role?"
"I'm a gay, alcoholic waiter at Central Perk who everyone loves… except Chandler." He amended.
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What's the catch?"
"I accidentally get the cafe closed down."
Buffy scrunched up her nose in confusion. "How does *that* happen?" Angel just nodded to the script. "Heh… read it, right." Opening at the first page she began to read "The camera follows Rachel as she enters Central Perk in a long overcoat. As she walks in she passes a guy waiting on a table, Jack: –"
"Would you like that Coffee Regular or Irish Coffee?"
"Customer [puzzled]: Is this a licensed premises?"
"Of course!"
"Rachel double takes before sitting down at the sofa with Chandler, Joey and Monica. Rachel: Is it just me or is that guy really familiar? Chandler looks over at Jack and immediately tries to hide behind his briefcase. Chandler: Oh my God! It's Jack! Everyone looks blankly at him Chandler: The gay alcoholic limousine driver who kept hitting on me! Everyone 'Oh's' and then turns back to what they're doing." Buffy looked up at Angel. "You have a crush on Chandler?" She questioned.
"Don't worry, my off screen tastes are very different." Angel's smirk returned again, and Buffy blushed at the insinuation he somehow managed to level behind the remark.
"The scene starts again where it left off…" She continued, a slight smile playing at the corners of her lips.
Reciting his final line with a flourish Angel collapsed onto the sofa where Buffy was recovering from her latest laughing fit. Finally managing to control herself she grinned slyly at Angel. "You're not planning on guesting on Will & Grace anytime soon are you?"
"I'd love to do that." Angel admitted turning his position so he faced the girl beside him Angel smiled at her. "I should get horrendously drunk more often. This is the best sobering-up experience I've ever had." One hand floated up to Buffy's face tracing her jaw-line delicately, "but then, this is the first one you've ever been at." Breath hitching Buffy closed her eyes at the delicious sensations he was sparking inside her. Her body responded instantly to his touch her face lifting to his, as his lowered to hers. His first brush of his lips against hers was like Ice freezing her body, the second had her melted and pliable in his arms. Inching closer she sipped his lips hungrily as his tongue flicking against her lips demanding entrance. Sure that the Dutch courage she'd acquired before her attempt to escape was the only reason for her boldness, she pressed herself brazenly against him. One of his hands slipped around her waist pulling her closer still and she mewled softly against his lips.
Breaking off for air Angel tucked a hair behind her ear, tacking in the beauty entangled in his arms. Buffy's eyes were closed and her lips were puffed and red from the hungry kiss and she panted softly at the loss of contact. Following the line of her form he left his fingers dance across her skin until they rested on her thigh. Eyes still closed Buffy smiled slightly and tucked her head against his chest.
"Please don't leave Ionuin."
"I won't."
A loud banging shook Kat from her dreams, noting with dissatisfaction that it was barely seven in the morning she forced her eyes to stay open. The banging showed no sign in desisting and Kat quickly abandoned any thoughts of going back to sleep. Throwing the covers back she forced herself to get up, throwing on a robe she shuffled out into the hallway. Down the hall Giles stepped out of his normal suite looking like he'd had even less sleep than she had. Deciding that that was definitely not something she wanted to think about Kat just waved him back.
"It's okay, I'll get it." Nodding gratefully Giles disappeared again and Kat headed down the stairs running one hand through her sleep-mussed hair as she did so. Finally crossing the vast expanse of the lobby she flicked the many deadbolts across and heaved the oak door open.
To be met by four youthful faces.
"Um. Hi." She muttered staring blankly at the strangers.
"Aren't you going to let us in?" A familiar face questioned and Kat sighed in relief. "Gunn, Sure, Hi. Come in." She greeted stepping back to allow the groups in. There were two girls and two guys, they were all about her age, and all looking surprisingly awake… and sort of expectant. "So… you are…" she fished unsubtly.
"Oh sorry!" The short red headed girl exclaimed. "I'm Willow, This is Oz, Xander and Cordelia."
"Buffy's friends!" Kaitlyn finally realised.
"And you are?" Cordelia demanded imperiously.
"Kaitlyn. Well Kat mostly." Kat replied carefully ignoring the tone in Cordelia's voice. Cordy's face softened instantly, but before she could say anything the scruffy dark-haired man, Xander, cut her of.
"Where's Buffy?"
"She's probably asleep. I'll just show you to the living room and I'll go get her, and possibly some clothes." She assured them. Walking over to the door in question, she nudged it ajar, glancing inside as she did so. Eyes widening she quickly slammed it shut. "I forgot we're having the living room redecorated." She quickly covered, ignoring Gunn's piercing gaze. "Why don't we go the games room?"
//And no matter how many secrets come out… there's always one more.//