Summary: Rewrite of The Wish (btvs s3) canon up until the fight in the
factory. Written for dawnm for the Back to High School Ficathon.
Requirements at the end.
Feedback: I'd love some.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine pout the scene in italics is from Surprise with me adding a bit.
Chapter Three
-Buffy-
I'm laying on the bed in Jeeves'-Giles' whatever the Watcher's house and the sun in just beginning to peek through the open window. I get up to close the window and can't resist a peek out into the courtyard. Logically I know he's gone and safely ensconced in his apartment, or at least he better be because nice bright morning sun out there.
I close the blinds and climb back in bed. I turn on my side and cuddle the extra pillow. We spent all night last night patrolling only it was pretty quiet. I'm sure the Master is keeping everything on the lowdown so he doesn't draw attention to himself. I only staked two vamps the entire night and they were some brain trusts that were scouting around the alley behind the coffee shop.
So in all actuality, we spent most of the night talking. I mean it wasn't some big gabfest where we bared our souls or some shit like that. It was just-I don't know. We talked about the nicer parts of our lives. He's had a really long one and it's kind of amazing the things he's seen. He reads a lot which I don't get sometimes because I'm not much for reading but then maybe I would have been if it weren't for the slayer thing. In any case he makes history and Shakespeare and poetry a lot more interesting then any of my teachers ever did.
He tried to get me to talk about life in Cleveland but I didn't want to ruin the night. It was nice. I kind of felt like a real girl for a change, I mean yeah I know that when you add up all the circumstances it sounds dumb to say that. I mean I'm walking through cemeteries with a two hundred and forty three year old vampire. It doesn't really lend itself to feeling normal, but I did, almost.
So now I'm laying here bed not sleeping and trying to remember this is a vampire we're talking about. He's different though, I mean besides the soul, duh. He reads and he knows all this stuff and he talks pretty and when he listens he really, really listens, like with his whole body. And that's different for me. I'm the slayer but no one really listens to me, no one really sees me. Angel sees me. And I gotta admit being seen is kind of nice.
I take off the light cardigan I'm wearing and wince as it pulls away from a cut on my shoulder.
"What?" Angel asks. He's standing a few feet away with his back turned while I change.
"Oh, uhm...it's okay. I just have a cut or something" I say.
"Can I...lemme see" he says.
I clutch my cardigan to my chest, suddenly acutely embarrassed to be changing in front of him, even though his back is turned, even though I've done it before. Maybe it's because I'm sitting on his bed in his apartment and we're completely alone.
"Okay" I whisper.
Angel turns around and walks over to the bed. He sits down behind me. He touches my back so gently, cool fingers just brushing my over heated skin. It's always overheated when he's around.
"It's already closed. You're fine" he whispers.
I lean back against him, resting my weight on him, cradling my face up to his. His arms wrap around me and pull me closer, like he'll never ever let go and I don't want him to.
"You almost went away today" I half choke out.
"We both did" he whispers huskily.
I can't keep my sobs in any longer. "Angel, I feel like I lost you. You're right though, we can't be sure of anything."
"Shhh...I" he stops suddenly.
I turn around to face him, searching those deep chocolate pools for a hint at what he's feeling, what he's thinking.
"You what?" I prod. I swallow hard. We've been dancing around this for a long time, it feels like my whole life.
"I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop" he says and the emotion behind the words chokes him.
He said it. He finally said it. I've known it as long as I've been alive but to actually hear him say the words. I swallow the sobs that threaten to overtake me again. It's really not good to cry when a guy says I love you.
"Me, me too. I can't either" I confess. I know I shouldn't love him. He's a vampire, I'm a slayer but the heart wants what it wants. My heart definitely wants Angel.
We melt into this kiss. It's the kind that makes you all weak knee'd and fainty. The kind that makes the world just slip away. He teases at my lips, nipping, tasting. I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him in deeper. And then he breaks it off.
"Buffy, maybe we shouldn't..." he starts.
I place my fingers over his lips, silencing him. "Don't. Just kiss me."
My eyes fly open and I sit straight up in bed. My breath is coming in great gasps.
"What the fuck was that?" I whisper to the empty room. I scrub my hands over my face and through my hair. I've had a lot of dreams. I've even had a few prophecy dreams but that was vivid, like complete surround sound, hills are alive with music vivid. I touch my fingers to my lips and I swear they feel like their swollen in that really good I kissed all night way. I shake my head to clear it. This is ridiculous. There's no way a dream and me and Angel kissing and doing the other things the dream implied, is prophecy. It's just not. My choice of relationships is not world in peril stuff. Besides, vampire remember, slayer, no datey no kissy.
I climb out of bed and hit the shower, hoping some hot water will clear out the cobwebs of that dream. I get dressed in some cargo pants and a pink tank. Yes I know my wardrobe doesn't change much. It's not like I have to be pretty to slay vamps. Trust me, they don't notice. I clatter down the stairs, trying to make some noise. I notice Giles seems to be more comfortable when I do.
"Good afternoon, Buffy. I dare say you had a late night?" Giles says.
"Yeah, Angel and I patrolled all over Sunnydale. There wasn't much in the way of vampires though" I say. Not much in the way of vampires as long as you don't count the one I spent the entire night with.
"Well, I can't say that surprises me. I expected the Master would want to lay low, keep out of your sights. We'll find him eventually. I've been doing research" Giles says.
"And?" I ask curling up in a chair at the table where Giles is sitting.
"Well so far I haven't learned much except that the Master's rising was prophesied" he says.
"Oh yay" I say dryly.
"Indeed but perhaps some more research will turn up something. How is Angel handling things? I can only imagine the horror of the things he went though at the hands of the Master" Giles says.
Oh goody, Angel talk, which will probably include questions I can't answer.
"Yeah, it was pretty bad and he's still a whipped puppy but I think he's getting better, coming around," I say. I'm going for safe, noninvasive answers here.
"Very good. I imagine his family was over joyed to see him," Giles says.
Yeah because they've been dead at least two hundred years, I think. "Uhm I don't think he has family," I say.
"Oh, really? Well he was certainly of assistance the other night. He would be most welcome here anytime" Giles says.
I suppose that's the English way of inviting him into the little White Hats group. "Uhm, Giles if I tell you something will you promise not to freak?" I ask. I'm dying to get this off my chest. It's not like I have friends to tell or like I could tell my own watcher.
"I assure you that no matter what you tell me I will not 'freak'," Giles says stumbling a bit over my word.
I take a deep breath and stand up pacing the floor. I twist my hands in front of me needing to do something.
"Okay, well before I tell you, you gotta promise to wait and let me finish cuz it's really twilight zone-y," I say.
Giles nods and takes his glasses off, waiting patiently for me to continue.
"Okay, here's the deal, Angel is a vampire but he's got a soul. He was cursed by gypsies a hundred years ago because he killed some girl in their family. The Master caught him and put him in that cage. He wasn't one of their followers." I close my eyes and brace myself for the torrent of curses and the lecture that is sure to come.
"He has his soul you say?" Giles says.
"Uhm yeah, I can't like verify it but he could have come in here and killed you anytime or even me. He hasn't tried and he did help us," I say still waiting for the shit to hit the fan.
"Most interesting, I've never heard of a vampire having a soul. Did he say what clan of gypsies cursed him?"
"No, okay why aren't you having kittens, yelling at me for not staking him as soon as I knew, things like that?" I ask completely perplexed.
Giles smiles in that way he has that says he's being patient and understanding. "Buffy, contrary to what the Council would have us all believe, this world is not black and white. There are good demons and bad demons, just as there are good people and bad people. I'd like to talk to Angel a bit more, find out some things about him, for example how old-"
"243. He's only had his soul for about a century though" I say. Only a century I think to myself. God, you know I liked older guys before but this is really ridiculous.
"Good Lord, there must be some information about him in the watcher files then," Giles stands up and goes to rummage in his bookshelves. He leaves the room and returns with a thick stack of books which he deposits on the table. He begins excitedly leafing through the books and I decide he's not going to do the yelling and brow beating thing and isn't that a change.
"Does he have a tattoo on his back?" Giles asks.
I sit up on the couch and look at him. "Excuse me, now you think I've seen him naked?"
Giles turns red and starts blustering. Definitely worth the effort of embarrassing him.
"No, well-I thought perhaps he'd shown you or taken his shirt off for some reason that I right now can not fathom nor do I want to," Giles says completely flustered.
I grin and lay back down on the couch, watching the black and white television I managed to un-earth from all the books.
"I can't be certain without talking to him or knowing about the tattoo but I believe it is possible that Angel was once upon a time, Angelus, the one with the angelic face-"
"Got that right in one," I mutter from my place on the couch.
"Also the Scourge of Europe, in his time he cut a swath of murder and destruction across the country. In 1900 he was sighted at the Boxer Rebellion where William the Bloody killed a slayer. William the Bloody is a vampire that was reputed to run with Angelus. Sometime in 1919 he arrived here in America and there is no mention of him hunting or killing in this country. It says here that the Watcher's council supposes Angelus dead," Giles says.
"Maybe the Watchers need to get better researchers," I say.
"We don't know for certain that Angel is indeed Angelus. If he were...Angelus was the most feared vampire of his time. His reputation is still something to be discussed among other vampires," Giles warns.
"Wow, so we've got the vamp that other vamps wanna be right here in Sunnydale. I gotta say he's better looking then the Master," I say.
"He is much younger, Buffy. The Master is one of the oldest vampires on record. Council files make a guess of his age at somewhere around a thousand years old," Giles says.
"I guess you would start to show you age after that long a time," I say and turn my attention back to the TV, hoping that Giles will get the hint.
I've got a lot to think about, not only is this guy a vampire. He's one of the big bad. And I thought my taste in men was rotten before.
-Angel-
I stand in front of Giles' door, not quite prepared to knock. I take a deep breathe and furrow my brow. She's not in there. I start to turn and walk away, go somewhere else to look for her when the door opens. It's Oz.
"Oh, hey," he says nodding at me.
I clear my throat. "Uhm, is Buffy here?"
"No, she went to make a quick run to the Espresso Pump but Giles wanted to talk to you. Come on in," Oz says and steps aside.
I swallow hard and step inside the proverbial lions den, at least that's what this feels like. I lick my lips nervously and tuck my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. Giles stands up from his place at the table.
"Angel, good to see you again. How are you?" Giles asks.
"I'm fine. Thank you. Yourself?" I say. I hate polite conversation. I wasn't good at when I was human and I'm worse at it now.
"I'm quite well. Thank you. Would you like some tea?" He asks.
"No, thank you," I say. I swallow hard again and try not to pace. It's a natural reaction for me when I'm nervous. I wish Buffy would get back.
Giles takes his glasses off and begins cleaning them. He furrows his brow. "Buffy told me that you are a vampire."
I gasp. I feel like all the wind has been knocked out of me. That was sort of something I wanted to keep from them for the next sixty years or so. I put a hand out and catch the edge of the table to steady myself.
"She also told me you are in possession of your soul," Giles says.
Well that increases the chances I won't be staked only slightly.
"Yes, Sir, I don't hurt humans. I haven't since I got my soul. I go to the butcher." I stumble and flail over my words, still in utter shock that she would tell them about me.
"If you don't mind, I've got some questions I'd like to ask you. I've never heard of a vampire in possession of their soul," Giles asks.
I watch him carefully. I try to sniff the air unobtrusively. I'm a bit surprised when I don't sense any actual fear coming from him or Oz, who's sitting behind a lap top, fingers tapping on keys like this is the most normal conversation in the world to overhear. They both seem to be fine with the idea of me being a vampire.
"Uhm, no I don't mind. As far as I know I'm the only vampire to ever have possession of my soul," I say. I sit down a bit awkwardly at the table across from Giles.
I'm listening to Giles and trying to answer his question when I feel that tingling tugging 'I'm alive' feeling. It's weak at first, little more then a whisper, but it's getting stronger by the moment and then she walks in and it's a full fledged, heart pounding 'I'm alive' feeling. Instinctively my hand goes over my heart just to check and make sure it's not beating.
"Hey, here's a mocha chino for you Oz, coffee black for you Giles and Angel I didn't get you anything. I didn't know you'd be here but you can share my mocha chino because really slayers shouldn't have this much sugar and caffeine all at once" she says.
I can't help but smile at her. Any anger I felt over her telling Giles my secret is gone.
"Hey! You smiled! I didn't know that could happen," she points out.
"Very funny," I say with a smirk. "Giles and I have been talking about my soul and the gypsies."
Her mouth forms a very round O and she fiddles with her coffee. I can't keep her in suspense any longer.
"It's alright. I've been answering questions. He wants to do some research on the gypsy curse," I say.
"This is after we do the research to find out where the Master is hiding, right?" Buffy says.
"Of course, we don't want to allow him to gain power again," Giles says.
"Right so please tell me we're doing something other then research tonight because this sitting around is driving me insaneo girl," Buffy says.
Giles chuckles. "Why don't you and Angel go do some patrols, see what you dig up. Oz and I will stay here and research," he says.
Buffy turns to me. "Do you mind? Or did you want to stay and do the scholarly thing 'cause I'm capable of patrolling by myself, happens all the time in Cleveland."
"No, it's fine. Let's go patrol and you can drink your sugary thing," I say.
It's funny I notice the difference in Buffy after the mocha chino. She's noticeably lighter, happier. She even smells happier. We're walking alongside each other. My hands are in my pockets and my fingers brush against the box there. It emits a low grade tingle, even encased the way it is. I glance around. We're in Restfield Cemetery which is one of the prettier ones. It's got this great big statue of this angel with its wings spread. We stop in front of the angel statue. I take a deep breath. Now is as good a time as any.
"Buffy, I-I've had this for a long time. I saw it in a store one night, before you got here. I wanted you to have it." I stumble over my words. I really should be better at this. Granted I did spend the last two years locked in a cage but I had 241 before that to figure these sorts of things out. She just takes away all my defenses. I fumble in my pocket and sheepishly hand her the box. I glance down at my feet, not wanting to meet her eyes as she opens my gift.
"Oh," she whispers and takes the large silver cross out of the box.
I swallow hard when I smell the tears that come to her eyes and I chance a glance up at her. Her green eyes are misty with tears unshed. She fumbles with the catch on the necklace. I take it from her very carefully holding the chain as far away from the cross as I can get, ignoring the survival instincts in me that scream at me to run. She turns her back to me and pulls her braid over her shoulder, giving a clear view of her neck. I put the necklace on, letting the cross lie flat against her breast bone and carefully clasp the chain.
"There" I manage to choke out.
She turns and touches her fingers to the heavy silver cross. "Thank you" she says.
"I know you had your other one, but I-I bought that for you and I didn't have any use for it," I fumble.
She smiles and it transforms her face. It makes her green eyes sparkle and softens the hard exterior. "Thank you," she says again.
I nod and whisper "You're welcome."
We turn to walk back toward Giles' by silent agreement. I watch her out of the corner of my eye and I can't help but notice her fingers keep straying to the cross, my cross, that's around her neck. It makes me glad I gave it to her instead of hiding it back inside the drawer, something I did at least three times before I finally tucked it into my pocket this evening. I scoot slightly closer to her and try to sniff the air around her, get some sense of what she's feeling.
"Okay, the sniffing thing, really weird. If you want to know how I'm feeling, ask don't smell me" she says.
I swallow hard and step away from her, tucking my hands into my pockets. I bow my head and study the cracks in the sidewalk.
"And stop the hang dog puppy look, I'm just saying if you wanna know what I'm feeling, thinking or how I'm doing ask," Buffy says.
I swallow hard and hazard a glance up at her. "Would you tell me?"
She shrugs. "I don't know, maybe but at least I won't be mad at you for sniffing me."
Not mad is something.
She's fallen fast asleep on the couch, grown tired of research hours ago. She looks softer, younger, much more like the girl on the steps when she sleeps. She snores very softly and somehow it makes her all the more endearing.
"Hmm, interesting," Giles says pulling me out of my thoughts.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Here it makes reference to the Master and a prophecy of some sort. It's rather vague but it mentions that the prophecy is explained in The Codex. I'm curious if some of the other prophecy books mention it. All copies of the Codex were lost some time ago," Giles says.
"Not lost, misplaced. I can get it," I say.
"That would be most helpful," Giles says.
I nod. "It shouldn't take too long. I need to go to Willy's and send a message." I cast a glance at Buffy still sleeping soundly on the couch and I ache to wake her up, tell her good night, tell her I hope she has sweet dreams.
"I'll tell her to expect you 'round in the evening tomorrow," Giles says with a smile.
I swallow hard and nod. I didn't always show such raw emotion on my face, not until she came around, or maybe Giles is just good at reading people.
Willy's is a left over from before the demons started running Sunnydale, or at least running Sunnydale in the open. From the little I've read about Sunnydale, it's always been run by demons with human faces.
Willy's is generally populated by the less dangerous demons, the ones who are trying to stay under the Master's radar. They don't work for him but they don't want to work against him either. I shove my way through the door and my senses are assaulted by the smell of cheap alcohol, blood, demons and the myriad scents of drinks partaken only by demons. I drop the breathing habit I've picked up sometime in the last two hundred years.
I sit down at the bar and rest my forearms on it. Eventually Willy will notice me. It takes him all of three minutes before he approaches me cautiously.
"Hey, my man Angel, last I heard you were playing pet to the Master," Willy says by way of greeting.
"I got out," I say.
"Lemme get you a nice glass of O pos on the house," Willy says.
At one time, before I became the Master's involuntary lap dog I used to pound on Willy for information, sometimes literally.
"No thanks. I need to get a message to someone," I say.
"I'm your man then. I'll make sure it gets there," Willy says.
"Gimme a piece of paper and a pen, you make sure this is delivered safe and I'll make sure that when everything goes down the right side knows you're on their team," I say.
"Sure thing, Angel," Willy says. His voice always tends to be too loud, too high pitched and nervous around me. But then Willy by nature always seems to have secrets. I have no illusions. I know he's working for every demon in town who can give him a leg up. Willy looks out for Willy and no one else, which is why the pounding works so well.
I scribble directions for the demon I'm sending the message too then I scribble his name on the outside of the note. I add two fifties to the paper give it back to Willy. I should go myself but the trip to New Orleans and back would take too long. I'm going to have to trust an old acquaintance. Willy tucks one fifty in his pocket. He slides the paper and the other fifty across the bar to another demon, a Grindslag.
Grindslag demons aren't good for much. They're lazy, they don't speak generally speak many languages, in fact their own and very rudimentary English generally covers it, but they're teleporters. Many of them make their living by being messengers. Getting to New Orleans and back with a book shouldn't be a problem for this guy.
He grumbles something in his language. I can't really make it out but can tell by the tone of voice it's a complaint. He tucks the message and money in the pocket of his black trench coat and pulls the fedora lower over his pointed ears. He mutters some words under his breath and is gone with a pop that leaves my ears feeling clogged for a moment.
"That's Ricardo. I've used him before. He'll take good care of you might take a little while though, you know if he has problems finding your friend," Willy says.
"I'll wait until closing," I say.
"Sure thing, Angel. You sure I can't get you something to drink. I've got O pos AB negative, A pos..." Willy says.
I swallow hard. The little Willow did feed me during my captivity was human and I miss the way it tastes, the way it feels. Animal blood, no matter what kind of animal, just doesn't come close to human blood. There's a certain vitality to it that animals don't have. It's the difference a soul makes.
"Anything non-human?" I ask.
"Yeah, I got pig and goat but why you want animal blood? Most vamps won't touch it. I keep it for some of my other customers," Willy says.
I shrug. I'm not really up to explaining my eating habits or my reasons for them to Willy. "Just get me some goat," I say.
The real reason behind not wanting human blood? Because if I'm on human blood, it's that much harder not to want Buffy's blood, or Giles' blood or Oz or any of the other humans I'm mixing with. If I'm drinking human blood they start to smell like food. It's never good when the girl you're in love with smells like food.
Half an hour until dawn and Ricardo hasn't come back. I tell Willy I'll be checking back in with him at nightfall. He nods and assures me once again Ricardo is trustworthy. Trust is something I have a hard time doing. When you've been around as long as I have you learn that most people, demons, aren't really trustworthy, they'll sell you out the moment it starts to benefit them. It's human nature, demon nature. It's what makes the world so corruptible.
I reach my apartment just as the sky is starting to turn pink. I linger outside the door, watching the glow spread across the sky. I duck inside just as the rays of the sun start to sizzle. Lethargy starts to set in while I'm undressing. I slip under the blankets on the bed, determined to sleep here tonight instead of on the rug. I'm not surprised when sleep slips over me tainted by hazel green eyes.
Feedback: I'd love some.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine pout the scene in italics is from Surprise with me adding a bit.
Chapter Three
-Buffy-
I'm laying on the bed in Jeeves'-Giles' whatever the Watcher's house and the sun in just beginning to peek through the open window. I get up to close the window and can't resist a peek out into the courtyard. Logically I know he's gone and safely ensconced in his apartment, or at least he better be because nice bright morning sun out there.
I close the blinds and climb back in bed. I turn on my side and cuddle the extra pillow. We spent all night last night patrolling only it was pretty quiet. I'm sure the Master is keeping everything on the lowdown so he doesn't draw attention to himself. I only staked two vamps the entire night and they were some brain trusts that were scouting around the alley behind the coffee shop.
So in all actuality, we spent most of the night talking. I mean it wasn't some big gabfest where we bared our souls or some shit like that. It was just-I don't know. We talked about the nicer parts of our lives. He's had a really long one and it's kind of amazing the things he's seen. He reads a lot which I don't get sometimes because I'm not much for reading but then maybe I would have been if it weren't for the slayer thing. In any case he makes history and Shakespeare and poetry a lot more interesting then any of my teachers ever did.
He tried to get me to talk about life in Cleveland but I didn't want to ruin the night. It was nice. I kind of felt like a real girl for a change, I mean yeah I know that when you add up all the circumstances it sounds dumb to say that. I mean I'm walking through cemeteries with a two hundred and forty three year old vampire. It doesn't really lend itself to feeling normal, but I did, almost.
So now I'm laying here bed not sleeping and trying to remember this is a vampire we're talking about. He's different though, I mean besides the soul, duh. He reads and he knows all this stuff and he talks pretty and when he listens he really, really listens, like with his whole body. And that's different for me. I'm the slayer but no one really listens to me, no one really sees me. Angel sees me. And I gotta admit being seen is kind of nice.
I take off the light cardigan I'm wearing and wince as it pulls away from a cut on my shoulder.
"What?" Angel asks. He's standing a few feet away with his back turned while I change.
"Oh, uhm...it's okay. I just have a cut or something" I say.
"Can I...lemme see" he says.
I clutch my cardigan to my chest, suddenly acutely embarrassed to be changing in front of him, even though his back is turned, even though I've done it before. Maybe it's because I'm sitting on his bed in his apartment and we're completely alone.
"Okay" I whisper.
Angel turns around and walks over to the bed. He sits down behind me. He touches my back so gently, cool fingers just brushing my over heated skin. It's always overheated when he's around.
"It's already closed. You're fine" he whispers.
I lean back against him, resting my weight on him, cradling my face up to his. His arms wrap around me and pull me closer, like he'll never ever let go and I don't want him to.
"You almost went away today" I half choke out.
"We both did" he whispers huskily.
I can't keep my sobs in any longer. "Angel, I feel like I lost you. You're right though, we can't be sure of anything."
"Shhh...I" he stops suddenly.
I turn around to face him, searching those deep chocolate pools for a hint at what he's feeling, what he's thinking.
"You what?" I prod. I swallow hard. We've been dancing around this for a long time, it feels like my whole life.
"I love you. I try not to, but I can't stop" he says and the emotion behind the words chokes him.
He said it. He finally said it. I've known it as long as I've been alive but to actually hear him say the words. I swallow the sobs that threaten to overtake me again. It's really not good to cry when a guy says I love you.
"Me, me too. I can't either" I confess. I know I shouldn't love him. He's a vampire, I'm a slayer but the heart wants what it wants. My heart definitely wants Angel.
We melt into this kiss. It's the kind that makes you all weak knee'd and fainty. The kind that makes the world just slip away. He teases at my lips, nipping, tasting. I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him in deeper. And then he breaks it off.
"Buffy, maybe we shouldn't..." he starts.
I place my fingers over his lips, silencing him. "Don't. Just kiss me."
My eyes fly open and I sit straight up in bed. My breath is coming in great gasps.
"What the fuck was that?" I whisper to the empty room. I scrub my hands over my face and through my hair. I've had a lot of dreams. I've even had a few prophecy dreams but that was vivid, like complete surround sound, hills are alive with music vivid. I touch my fingers to my lips and I swear they feel like their swollen in that really good I kissed all night way. I shake my head to clear it. This is ridiculous. There's no way a dream and me and Angel kissing and doing the other things the dream implied, is prophecy. It's just not. My choice of relationships is not world in peril stuff. Besides, vampire remember, slayer, no datey no kissy.
I climb out of bed and hit the shower, hoping some hot water will clear out the cobwebs of that dream. I get dressed in some cargo pants and a pink tank. Yes I know my wardrobe doesn't change much. It's not like I have to be pretty to slay vamps. Trust me, they don't notice. I clatter down the stairs, trying to make some noise. I notice Giles seems to be more comfortable when I do.
"Good afternoon, Buffy. I dare say you had a late night?" Giles says.
"Yeah, Angel and I patrolled all over Sunnydale. There wasn't much in the way of vampires though" I say. Not much in the way of vampires as long as you don't count the one I spent the entire night with.
"Well, I can't say that surprises me. I expected the Master would want to lay low, keep out of your sights. We'll find him eventually. I've been doing research" Giles says.
"And?" I ask curling up in a chair at the table where Giles is sitting.
"Well so far I haven't learned much except that the Master's rising was prophesied" he says.
"Oh yay" I say dryly.
"Indeed but perhaps some more research will turn up something. How is Angel handling things? I can only imagine the horror of the things he went though at the hands of the Master" Giles says.
Oh goody, Angel talk, which will probably include questions I can't answer.
"Yeah, it was pretty bad and he's still a whipped puppy but I think he's getting better, coming around," I say. I'm going for safe, noninvasive answers here.
"Very good. I imagine his family was over joyed to see him," Giles says.
Yeah because they've been dead at least two hundred years, I think. "Uhm I don't think he has family," I say.
"Oh, really? Well he was certainly of assistance the other night. He would be most welcome here anytime" Giles says.
I suppose that's the English way of inviting him into the little White Hats group. "Uhm, Giles if I tell you something will you promise not to freak?" I ask. I'm dying to get this off my chest. It's not like I have friends to tell or like I could tell my own watcher.
"I assure you that no matter what you tell me I will not 'freak'," Giles says stumbling a bit over my word.
I take a deep breath and stand up pacing the floor. I twist my hands in front of me needing to do something.
"Okay, well before I tell you, you gotta promise to wait and let me finish cuz it's really twilight zone-y," I say.
Giles nods and takes his glasses off, waiting patiently for me to continue.
"Okay, here's the deal, Angel is a vampire but he's got a soul. He was cursed by gypsies a hundred years ago because he killed some girl in their family. The Master caught him and put him in that cage. He wasn't one of their followers." I close my eyes and brace myself for the torrent of curses and the lecture that is sure to come.
"He has his soul you say?" Giles says.
"Uhm yeah, I can't like verify it but he could have come in here and killed you anytime or even me. He hasn't tried and he did help us," I say still waiting for the shit to hit the fan.
"Most interesting, I've never heard of a vampire having a soul. Did he say what clan of gypsies cursed him?"
"No, okay why aren't you having kittens, yelling at me for not staking him as soon as I knew, things like that?" I ask completely perplexed.
Giles smiles in that way he has that says he's being patient and understanding. "Buffy, contrary to what the Council would have us all believe, this world is not black and white. There are good demons and bad demons, just as there are good people and bad people. I'd like to talk to Angel a bit more, find out some things about him, for example how old-"
"243. He's only had his soul for about a century though" I say. Only a century I think to myself. God, you know I liked older guys before but this is really ridiculous.
"Good Lord, there must be some information about him in the watcher files then," Giles stands up and goes to rummage in his bookshelves. He leaves the room and returns with a thick stack of books which he deposits on the table. He begins excitedly leafing through the books and I decide he's not going to do the yelling and brow beating thing and isn't that a change.
"Does he have a tattoo on his back?" Giles asks.
I sit up on the couch and look at him. "Excuse me, now you think I've seen him naked?"
Giles turns red and starts blustering. Definitely worth the effort of embarrassing him.
"No, well-I thought perhaps he'd shown you or taken his shirt off for some reason that I right now can not fathom nor do I want to," Giles says completely flustered.
I grin and lay back down on the couch, watching the black and white television I managed to un-earth from all the books.
"I can't be certain without talking to him or knowing about the tattoo but I believe it is possible that Angel was once upon a time, Angelus, the one with the angelic face-"
"Got that right in one," I mutter from my place on the couch.
"Also the Scourge of Europe, in his time he cut a swath of murder and destruction across the country. In 1900 he was sighted at the Boxer Rebellion where William the Bloody killed a slayer. William the Bloody is a vampire that was reputed to run with Angelus. Sometime in 1919 he arrived here in America and there is no mention of him hunting or killing in this country. It says here that the Watcher's council supposes Angelus dead," Giles says.
"Maybe the Watchers need to get better researchers," I say.
"We don't know for certain that Angel is indeed Angelus. If he were...Angelus was the most feared vampire of his time. His reputation is still something to be discussed among other vampires," Giles warns.
"Wow, so we've got the vamp that other vamps wanna be right here in Sunnydale. I gotta say he's better looking then the Master," I say.
"He is much younger, Buffy. The Master is one of the oldest vampires on record. Council files make a guess of his age at somewhere around a thousand years old," Giles says.
"I guess you would start to show you age after that long a time," I say and turn my attention back to the TV, hoping that Giles will get the hint.
I've got a lot to think about, not only is this guy a vampire. He's one of the big bad. And I thought my taste in men was rotten before.
-Angel-
I stand in front of Giles' door, not quite prepared to knock. I take a deep breathe and furrow my brow. She's not in there. I start to turn and walk away, go somewhere else to look for her when the door opens. It's Oz.
"Oh, hey," he says nodding at me.
I clear my throat. "Uhm, is Buffy here?"
"No, she went to make a quick run to the Espresso Pump but Giles wanted to talk to you. Come on in," Oz says and steps aside.
I swallow hard and step inside the proverbial lions den, at least that's what this feels like. I lick my lips nervously and tuck my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. Giles stands up from his place at the table.
"Angel, good to see you again. How are you?" Giles asks.
"I'm fine. Thank you. Yourself?" I say. I hate polite conversation. I wasn't good at when I was human and I'm worse at it now.
"I'm quite well. Thank you. Would you like some tea?" He asks.
"No, thank you," I say. I swallow hard again and try not to pace. It's a natural reaction for me when I'm nervous. I wish Buffy would get back.
Giles takes his glasses off and begins cleaning them. He furrows his brow. "Buffy told me that you are a vampire."
I gasp. I feel like all the wind has been knocked out of me. That was sort of something I wanted to keep from them for the next sixty years or so. I put a hand out and catch the edge of the table to steady myself.
"She also told me you are in possession of your soul," Giles says.
Well that increases the chances I won't be staked only slightly.
"Yes, Sir, I don't hurt humans. I haven't since I got my soul. I go to the butcher." I stumble and flail over my words, still in utter shock that she would tell them about me.
"If you don't mind, I've got some questions I'd like to ask you. I've never heard of a vampire in possession of their soul," Giles asks.
I watch him carefully. I try to sniff the air unobtrusively. I'm a bit surprised when I don't sense any actual fear coming from him or Oz, who's sitting behind a lap top, fingers tapping on keys like this is the most normal conversation in the world to overhear. They both seem to be fine with the idea of me being a vampire.
"Uhm, no I don't mind. As far as I know I'm the only vampire to ever have possession of my soul," I say. I sit down a bit awkwardly at the table across from Giles.
I'm listening to Giles and trying to answer his question when I feel that tingling tugging 'I'm alive' feeling. It's weak at first, little more then a whisper, but it's getting stronger by the moment and then she walks in and it's a full fledged, heart pounding 'I'm alive' feeling. Instinctively my hand goes over my heart just to check and make sure it's not beating.
"Hey, here's a mocha chino for you Oz, coffee black for you Giles and Angel I didn't get you anything. I didn't know you'd be here but you can share my mocha chino because really slayers shouldn't have this much sugar and caffeine all at once" she says.
I can't help but smile at her. Any anger I felt over her telling Giles my secret is gone.
"Hey! You smiled! I didn't know that could happen," she points out.
"Very funny," I say with a smirk. "Giles and I have been talking about my soul and the gypsies."
Her mouth forms a very round O and she fiddles with her coffee. I can't keep her in suspense any longer.
"It's alright. I've been answering questions. He wants to do some research on the gypsy curse," I say.
"This is after we do the research to find out where the Master is hiding, right?" Buffy says.
"Of course, we don't want to allow him to gain power again," Giles says.
"Right so please tell me we're doing something other then research tonight because this sitting around is driving me insaneo girl," Buffy says.
Giles chuckles. "Why don't you and Angel go do some patrols, see what you dig up. Oz and I will stay here and research," he says.
Buffy turns to me. "Do you mind? Or did you want to stay and do the scholarly thing 'cause I'm capable of patrolling by myself, happens all the time in Cleveland."
"No, it's fine. Let's go patrol and you can drink your sugary thing," I say.
It's funny I notice the difference in Buffy after the mocha chino. She's noticeably lighter, happier. She even smells happier. We're walking alongside each other. My hands are in my pockets and my fingers brush against the box there. It emits a low grade tingle, even encased the way it is. I glance around. We're in Restfield Cemetery which is one of the prettier ones. It's got this great big statue of this angel with its wings spread. We stop in front of the angel statue. I take a deep breath. Now is as good a time as any.
"Buffy, I-I've had this for a long time. I saw it in a store one night, before you got here. I wanted you to have it." I stumble over my words. I really should be better at this. Granted I did spend the last two years locked in a cage but I had 241 before that to figure these sorts of things out. She just takes away all my defenses. I fumble in my pocket and sheepishly hand her the box. I glance down at my feet, not wanting to meet her eyes as she opens my gift.
"Oh," she whispers and takes the large silver cross out of the box.
I swallow hard when I smell the tears that come to her eyes and I chance a glance up at her. Her green eyes are misty with tears unshed. She fumbles with the catch on the necklace. I take it from her very carefully holding the chain as far away from the cross as I can get, ignoring the survival instincts in me that scream at me to run. She turns her back to me and pulls her braid over her shoulder, giving a clear view of her neck. I put the necklace on, letting the cross lie flat against her breast bone and carefully clasp the chain.
"There" I manage to choke out.
She turns and touches her fingers to the heavy silver cross. "Thank you" she says.
"I know you had your other one, but I-I bought that for you and I didn't have any use for it," I fumble.
She smiles and it transforms her face. It makes her green eyes sparkle and softens the hard exterior. "Thank you," she says again.
I nod and whisper "You're welcome."
We turn to walk back toward Giles' by silent agreement. I watch her out of the corner of my eye and I can't help but notice her fingers keep straying to the cross, my cross, that's around her neck. It makes me glad I gave it to her instead of hiding it back inside the drawer, something I did at least three times before I finally tucked it into my pocket this evening. I scoot slightly closer to her and try to sniff the air around her, get some sense of what she's feeling.
"Okay, the sniffing thing, really weird. If you want to know how I'm feeling, ask don't smell me" she says.
I swallow hard and step away from her, tucking my hands into my pockets. I bow my head and study the cracks in the sidewalk.
"And stop the hang dog puppy look, I'm just saying if you wanna know what I'm feeling, thinking or how I'm doing ask," Buffy says.
I swallow hard and hazard a glance up at her. "Would you tell me?"
She shrugs. "I don't know, maybe but at least I won't be mad at you for sniffing me."
Not mad is something.
She's fallen fast asleep on the couch, grown tired of research hours ago. She looks softer, younger, much more like the girl on the steps when she sleeps. She snores very softly and somehow it makes her all the more endearing.
"Hmm, interesting," Giles says pulling me out of my thoughts.
"What's that?" I ask.
"Here it makes reference to the Master and a prophecy of some sort. It's rather vague but it mentions that the prophecy is explained in The Codex. I'm curious if some of the other prophecy books mention it. All copies of the Codex were lost some time ago," Giles says.
"Not lost, misplaced. I can get it," I say.
"That would be most helpful," Giles says.
I nod. "It shouldn't take too long. I need to go to Willy's and send a message." I cast a glance at Buffy still sleeping soundly on the couch and I ache to wake her up, tell her good night, tell her I hope she has sweet dreams.
"I'll tell her to expect you 'round in the evening tomorrow," Giles says with a smile.
I swallow hard and nod. I didn't always show such raw emotion on my face, not until she came around, or maybe Giles is just good at reading people.
Willy's is a left over from before the demons started running Sunnydale, or at least running Sunnydale in the open. From the little I've read about Sunnydale, it's always been run by demons with human faces.
Willy's is generally populated by the less dangerous demons, the ones who are trying to stay under the Master's radar. They don't work for him but they don't want to work against him either. I shove my way through the door and my senses are assaulted by the smell of cheap alcohol, blood, demons and the myriad scents of drinks partaken only by demons. I drop the breathing habit I've picked up sometime in the last two hundred years.
I sit down at the bar and rest my forearms on it. Eventually Willy will notice me. It takes him all of three minutes before he approaches me cautiously.
"Hey, my man Angel, last I heard you were playing pet to the Master," Willy says by way of greeting.
"I got out," I say.
"Lemme get you a nice glass of O pos on the house," Willy says.
At one time, before I became the Master's involuntary lap dog I used to pound on Willy for information, sometimes literally.
"No thanks. I need to get a message to someone," I say.
"I'm your man then. I'll make sure it gets there," Willy says.
"Gimme a piece of paper and a pen, you make sure this is delivered safe and I'll make sure that when everything goes down the right side knows you're on their team," I say.
"Sure thing, Angel," Willy says. His voice always tends to be too loud, too high pitched and nervous around me. But then Willy by nature always seems to have secrets. I have no illusions. I know he's working for every demon in town who can give him a leg up. Willy looks out for Willy and no one else, which is why the pounding works so well.
I scribble directions for the demon I'm sending the message too then I scribble his name on the outside of the note. I add two fifties to the paper give it back to Willy. I should go myself but the trip to New Orleans and back would take too long. I'm going to have to trust an old acquaintance. Willy tucks one fifty in his pocket. He slides the paper and the other fifty across the bar to another demon, a Grindslag.
Grindslag demons aren't good for much. They're lazy, they don't speak generally speak many languages, in fact their own and very rudimentary English generally covers it, but they're teleporters. Many of them make their living by being messengers. Getting to New Orleans and back with a book shouldn't be a problem for this guy.
He grumbles something in his language. I can't really make it out but can tell by the tone of voice it's a complaint. He tucks the message and money in the pocket of his black trench coat and pulls the fedora lower over his pointed ears. He mutters some words under his breath and is gone with a pop that leaves my ears feeling clogged for a moment.
"That's Ricardo. I've used him before. He'll take good care of you might take a little while though, you know if he has problems finding your friend," Willy says.
"I'll wait until closing," I say.
"Sure thing, Angel. You sure I can't get you something to drink. I've got O pos AB negative, A pos..." Willy says.
I swallow hard. The little Willow did feed me during my captivity was human and I miss the way it tastes, the way it feels. Animal blood, no matter what kind of animal, just doesn't come close to human blood. There's a certain vitality to it that animals don't have. It's the difference a soul makes.
"Anything non-human?" I ask.
"Yeah, I got pig and goat but why you want animal blood? Most vamps won't touch it. I keep it for some of my other customers," Willy says.
I shrug. I'm not really up to explaining my eating habits or my reasons for them to Willy. "Just get me some goat," I say.
The real reason behind not wanting human blood? Because if I'm on human blood, it's that much harder not to want Buffy's blood, or Giles' blood or Oz or any of the other humans I'm mixing with. If I'm drinking human blood they start to smell like food. It's never good when the girl you're in love with smells like food.
Half an hour until dawn and Ricardo hasn't come back. I tell Willy I'll be checking back in with him at nightfall. He nods and assures me once again Ricardo is trustworthy. Trust is something I have a hard time doing. When you've been around as long as I have you learn that most people, demons, aren't really trustworthy, they'll sell you out the moment it starts to benefit them. It's human nature, demon nature. It's what makes the world so corruptible.
I reach my apartment just as the sky is starting to turn pink. I linger outside the door, watching the glow spread across the sky. I duck inside just as the rays of the sun start to sizzle. Lethargy starts to set in while I'm undressing. I slip under the blankets on the bed, determined to sleep here tonight instead of on the rug. I'm not surprised when sleep slips over me tainted by hazel green eyes.