Connor was angry. Angry at his father, angry at Wesley, angry at Holtz,
angry at the world. angry at himself. Angry at Angel- he shouldn't even
call him his father; angry at Wesley for rescuing him from the bottom of
the ocean, angry at Holtz for having lied to him his whole life, especially
about his real identity. Angry at the world for being like it was, for
making him suffer so much. angry at himself for crying.
Connor was crying. He had never done that before, having learned that a man should not cry- especially a fighter.
After Angel had recovered from his ordeal at the bottom of the ocean, he had turned to Connor and forgiven him. Angel had then asked Connor to forgive him for do such a terrible job as a father.
This was what Connor couldn't stand. He had just thrown him into the ocean, making him spend three months there, suffering. And now he came back and actually apologized to him.
So he left, and was now looking for a place to sleep. He had little money and hardly anything else on him. And he was developing a bad cold.
He decided to go to a little beach he knew, hidden away from the city. He had discovered it when he went hunting at night. No one was ever there, and that was why he liked it.
Lying there on the warm sand, not caring about anything, Connor gazed out at the night sky and at the huge wet mass below it. He felt peaceful and serene- something he had experienced only two or three times in his life. Maybe I should just stay here the night, he thought drowsily. It's so nice.
But his self-discipline won over, and rolling over off his back, he got up dusting the sand off his clothes. Lifting his face up to the breeze, he smelled someone. Despite his knowledge that this was a place rarely visited by anyone, he was intrigued, loving the smell. It was the smell of musk, sweet but dangerous at the same time. Connor followed it, realizing that there were other people there. Vampires.
Connor retreated into the shadow provided by the trees behind him, and circled the place from whist the sounds proceeded. He could smell fear now, a cold, metallic smell that usually made him grin sadistically. But not this time.
He could feel them now. The familiar feeling of the dead- dark and haunting, something he'd been used to his whole life. They were circled around someone, talking to it, taunting it like they were playing with their food. Connor approached them silently, trying to see who was going to be tonight's dinner.
"You look depressed tonight, pet," said the biggest of them- quite obviously the leader of the gang from the looks of him. He was circling a girl, slim and with long hair, but Connor couldn't see her face. "Did your boyfriend leave you?"
The other gang members guffawed stupidly at their boss's joke, but the girl didn't seem to appreciate it.
"Oh shut it, really," she said, sounding extremely irritated yet disdainful at the same time. "Get a life."
The vampires were taken aback- and so was Connor. No one dared talk to them like that, and least of all to their leader.
The leader, however, recovered quickly from the shock. "Ooooh, angry are we tonight?" he mocked. "Well, let me tell you something."he leant towards her, and, in a stage whisper, said, "I don't like it when people disrespect me. In fact," he added, straightening again. "I think I should teach you a lesson."
All his followers grinned at each other and murmured their approval.
Shit, thought Connor. That means rape. He resisted the impulse to punch the leader's face in and tried to think rationally like Holtz had taught him. There are five of them and only one of me. But I have the advantage of surprising them. but even if I knock one out, I still have four others to deal with. Then Connor realized something. Dammit! I'm thinking like Holtz! He gritted his teeth. But he was distracted by the commotion going on.
They had grabbed the girl by her arms and were keeping them pinned behind her back. The leader approached, his lip curled. He started reaching for her blouse. But then she did something unexpected- and kicked him. His head, to be exact.
He stumbled backward, morphed into his game face and roared. His followers stared stupidly at her, not believing what she'd just done. She'd just kicked a 300-pound vampire in the head.
"Why you little bitch," the thug snarled. "You'll see what it's like to suffer now!" He stepped towards her, grabbing her thigh, digging his nails into it, as he was about to rip off her jeans. The girl gave an unnatural, earsplitting shriek- and the vampire turned into dust before her.
Connor whirled and staked the one closest to him, wasting no time. Great. Just three more to go. He kicked the one attacking him in the chest, giving him enough time to tackle the other two- the ones holding the girl- and stake one before he recovered.
He turned to the girl once he had dusted the last one. She looked weak and pale, but walked unsteadily towards him. Connor rushed to support her in case she fell, but to his surprise, she turned serenely to face him.
He was sure she was an angel. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He had heard about them from Holtz once, and he had said they were like this, but extremely hard to find. His father was called Angel, but Connor knew he didn't deserve the name. She did. Connor then noticed the entrancing scent from before was hers.
"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed him.
Connor was shocked. He had never been kissed, but now he understood what they meant in all the books he had read, in all the movies he had seen. It was fire.
But before he could respond to her, her legs buckled and she was forced to let go. Connor held her unconscious body and realized why. Moving his hand away from her side, he found it covered in blood where one of the vampires had stabbed her.
Angels don't bleed.
Connor didn't have time to be disappointed. Someone gasped behind him. Looking up, he noticed the man gave the same impression his father did. The tall, dark man started towards them, his gazed transfixed on the girl.
"Iris."
Realizing what the situation looked like, Connor tried to explain. "She's not dead. She's just wounded. And I- I didn't do it," he added stupidly.
"I know, I know," the man answered, brushing him away and laying Iris on the ground. "Oh God, I told her not to do that again. She could have been killed," he murmured, shakily laying his hands on her open wound. Suddenly there was a small white glow and she opened her eyes, gasping and sitting up quickly.
"Oh thank God, Dad," she cried, hugging him hard. He hugged her back, laughing in relief.
So this is her father, thought Connor, still slightly puzzled at what had happened. Not to mention amazed. He stalked wordlessly off, sure he wasn't needed any more and not wanting to get into trouble.
"Wait!"
He froze, turning slowly around.
The man was looking at him with new interest. "You staked those vampires?"
Connor nodded, still wary of him.
"Then you saved my daughter," he said standing up. "You should be rewarded. Is there anything you need?"
Connor thought of a bed, his next meal and where he was going to get money for it. He shook his head.
The man gave a rather lopsided grin. "Don't be modest. Surely there must be something-"
"Don't," said Connor in a roughly. "It's what I do."
"But you-"
Connor disappeared into the shadows before the man had a chance to say anything. Before he could change his mind.
She was not an angel, he found out. She had a father. But that didn't stop him from dreaming about her kiss the following nights. Or of trying to find her scent the following days.
The thought of her kept him alive.
Connor was crying. He had never done that before, having learned that a man should not cry- especially a fighter.
After Angel had recovered from his ordeal at the bottom of the ocean, he had turned to Connor and forgiven him. Angel had then asked Connor to forgive him for do such a terrible job as a father.
This was what Connor couldn't stand. He had just thrown him into the ocean, making him spend three months there, suffering. And now he came back and actually apologized to him.
So he left, and was now looking for a place to sleep. He had little money and hardly anything else on him. And he was developing a bad cold.
He decided to go to a little beach he knew, hidden away from the city. He had discovered it when he went hunting at night. No one was ever there, and that was why he liked it.
Lying there on the warm sand, not caring about anything, Connor gazed out at the night sky and at the huge wet mass below it. He felt peaceful and serene- something he had experienced only two or three times in his life. Maybe I should just stay here the night, he thought drowsily. It's so nice.
But his self-discipline won over, and rolling over off his back, he got up dusting the sand off his clothes. Lifting his face up to the breeze, he smelled someone. Despite his knowledge that this was a place rarely visited by anyone, he was intrigued, loving the smell. It was the smell of musk, sweet but dangerous at the same time. Connor followed it, realizing that there were other people there. Vampires.
Connor retreated into the shadow provided by the trees behind him, and circled the place from whist the sounds proceeded. He could smell fear now, a cold, metallic smell that usually made him grin sadistically. But not this time.
He could feel them now. The familiar feeling of the dead- dark and haunting, something he'd been used to his whole life. They were circled around someone, talking to it, taunting it like they were playing with their food. Connor approached them silently, trying to see who was going to be tonight's dinner.
"You look depressed tonight, pet," said the biggest of them- quite obviously the leader of the gang from the looks of him. He was circling a girl, slim and with long hair, but Connor couldn't see her face. "Did your boyfriend leave you?"
The other gang members guffawed stupidly at their boss's joke, but the girl didn't seem to appreciate it.
"Oh shut it, really," she said, sounding extremely irritated yet disdainful at the same time. "Get a life."
The vampires were taken aback- and so was Connor. No one dared talk to them like that, and least of all to their leader.
The leader, however, recovered quickly from the shock. "Ooooh, angry are we tonight?" he mocked. "Well, let me tell you something."he leant towards her, and, in a stage whisper, said, "I don't like it when people disrespect me. In fact," he added, straightening again. "I think I should teach you a lesson."
All his followers grinned at each other and murmured their approval.
Shit, thought Connor. That means rape. He resisted the impulse to punch the leader's face in and tried to think rationally like Holtz had taught him. There are five of them and only one of me. But I have the advantage of surprising them. but even if I knock one out, I still have four others to deal with. Then Connor realized something. Dammit! I'm thinking like Holtz! He gritted his teeth. But he was distracted by the commotion going on.
They had grabbed the girl by her arms and were keeping them pinned behind her back. The leader approached, his lip curled. He started reaching for her blouse. But then she did something unexpected- and kicked him. His head, to be exact.
He stumbled backward, morphed into his game face and roared. His followers stared stupidly at her, not believing what she'd just done. She'd just kicked a 300-pound vampire in the head.
"Why you little bitch," the thug snarled. "You'll see what it's like to suffer now!" He stepped towards her, grabbing her thigh, digging his nails into it, as he was about to rip off her jeans. The girl gave an unnatural, earsplitting shriek- and the vampire turned into dust before her.
Connor whirled and staked the one closest to him, wasting no time. Great. Just three more to go. He kicked the one attacking him in the chest, giving him enough time to tackle the other two- the ones holding the girl- and stake one before he recovered.
He turned to the girl once he had dusted the last one. She looked weak and pale, but walked unsteadily towards him. Connor rushed to support her in case she fell, but to his surprise, she turned serenely to face him.
He was sure she was an angel. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He had heard about them from Holtz once, and he had said they were like this, but extremely hard to find. His father was called Angel, but Connor knew he didn't deserve the name. She did. Connor then noticed the entrancing scent from before was hers.
"Thank you," she whispered, and kissed him.
Connor was shocked. He had never been kissed, but now he understood what they meant in all the books he had read, in all the movies he had seen. It was fire.
But before he could respond to her, her legs buckled and she was forced to let go. Connor held her unconscious body and realized why. Moving his hand away from her side, he found it covered in blood where one of the vampires had stabbed her.
Angels don't bleed.
Connor didn't have time to be disappointed. Someone gasped behind him. Looking up, he noticed the man gave the same impression his father did. The tall, dark man started towards them, his gazed transfixed on the girl.
"Iris."
Realizing what the situation looked like, Connor tried to explain. "She's not dead. She's just wounded. And I- I didn't do it," he added stupidly.
"I know, I know," the man answered, brushing him away and laying Iris on the ground. "Oh God, I told her not to do that again. She could have been killed," he murmured, shakily laying his hands on her open wound. Suddenly there was a small white glow and she opened her eyes, gasping and sitting up quickly.
"Oh thank God, Dad," she cried, hugging him hard. He hugged her back, laughing in relief.
So this is her father, thought Connor, still slightly puzzled at what had happened. Not to mention amazed. He stalked wordlessly off, sure he wasn't needed any more and not wanting to get into trouble.
"Wait!"
He froze, turning slowly around.
The man was looking at him with new interest. "You staked those vampires?"
Connor nodded, still wary of him.
"Then you saved my daughter," he said standing up. "You should be rewarded. Is there anything you need?"
Connor thought of a bed, his next meal and where he was going to get money for it. He shook his head.
The man gave a rather lopsided grin. "Don't be modest. Surely there must be something-"
"Don't," said Connor in a roughly. "It's what I do."
"But you-"
Connor disappeared into the shadows before the man had a chance to say anything. Before he could change his mind.
She was not an angel, he found out. She had a father. But that didn't stop him from dreaming about her kiss the following nights. Or of trying to find her scent the following days.
The thought of her kept him alive.