Chapter 1: Pretending
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
'I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold – too cold for me –'
'Evening Star', by Edgar Allan Poe
X
It was stuck in between two other houses that were practically identical with their gently sloping roofs and small windows. From the narrow, cobbled street a couple of steps led down to the wooden front door, the stairway flanked by a spiked iron-fence. In the moonlight it was hard to decide upon the colour of the house but Angel deduced that soft crème or greyish white probably was a good call.
Wes stood behind him, silently indicating that he was not going to be the frontier guy. Sucking in a nervous breath through gritted teeth, Angel took down the steps and paused before the door, his closed fist poised uncertainly. Technically, he was already dead so things really couldn't get much worse. He knocked twice, something inside him praying that nobody was home or that his feeble attempt at gaining attention had gone unnoticed. But then the door slid open and the man inside stared at Angel with something halfway between disbelief and unguarded contempt.
'Hi Giles,' Angel finally managed.
At the sound of his voice there was a scurry of movement from within and a dark haired young man appeared beside the old watcher, his face doing a striking replication of the older man's expression.
'Deadboy!' he exclaimed with mock exaltation.
Angel looked back at the elder man whose narrowed eyes clearly said more than words ever could. 'Angel.'
'I'm sorry -' He began uncertainly.
'To bother me,' Giles concluded mordantly. His hand still rested upon the edge of the door, indicating that he had no intention whatsoever to allow the vampire entry. Angel could hardly blame him.
Xander spoke again. 'Which really poses the question: why is he here?'
Giles' eyes were piercing holes in his skull and Angel coolly returned the gaze. 'I need your help.'
'Raise your hand if you didn't see that one coming,' Xander scoffed sardonically.
'Are you still at Wolfram&Hart?' The old watcher was doing his best to keep his voice neutral.
A familiar warmth rose from Angel's abdomen at this. 'What does that have to do with anything?'
Xander was leaning against the wall and said with simulated interest: 'So, how's life as chief administer of All Evil Creatures Great and Small?'
They did not trust him. He had not expected them to either. 'That way.'
'Yeah,' Xander said. 'That way.'
'Go back to LA, Angel,' Giles said, his voice flat with anger. 'We are not here at your disposal.'
'I'm aware of that,' Angel replied sincerely.
Xander glared at Angel. 'Anyone care to explain the part where the explanation behind that was left out?'
'Mind if I cut in?' Angel was pushed aside as Wes brushed past him to face the two in the doorway. Giles expression changed to utter bewilderment. Understandably really; Wes' appearance had done a drastic u-turn since he had last seen him. 'What do you know of this?' Wes held out the book for Giles and the older watcher gingerly took it. After a quick glance his mistrustful glare travelled from Wes to Angel and back.
'Where did you find this?' He asked.
'Long story,' Angel just said, aware of the killing stare Xander was fixing him with.
'And how many did you off anonymously during this story?'
Angel did not even look at him but kept his eyes on the ex-watcher, who seemed to debate something heavily in his mind. 'Come in,' he finally said, the simple sentence seeming to cause him a lot of effort.
Wes stepped into the house and Angel followed him through the door. Xander moved slightly to let them pass but Angel was aware that his eyes did not let him go, and he could feel his glare in his back, as he walked from the narrow hallway into the rectangular living room. A large, circular table took up some of the floor space surrounded by seven or so wooden chairs. Along the right wall stood an old, cosy-looking couch flanked by an old- fashioned lamp that spit a golden glow into the room, the soft gleam carving deep shadows wherever it couldn't reach. At the far end a staircase disappeared upstairs. Beneath it, the white wall was marked by nothing but a single, closed door, the kitchen, Angel assumed. Books were staggered in heaps in ever corner, almost obscuring the small television that faced the couch, and the left wall was one large bookshelf.
On the table lay a couple of books sprawled open beside a newspaper that informed Angel that the twelfth murder had occurred. He heard the front door being shut behind him. Wes had taken a seat at the table, but Angel was not too comfortable with the thought of getting too close to the others, physically and mentally, and he leant against the bookshelf in the corner that ran adjacent to the door that opened onto the hallway.
'I guess you are aware of the deaths?' He said as way of introduction.
'No,' Xander said, slumping down at the table. 'We've just returned from Majorca, which is why we were a bit shocked to find you on our doorstep.'
'We assumed that it was a demonic force,' Giles said. He too had taken a seat at the table.
'It is,' Angel said.
'Friend of yours?' Xander offered him an acid smile.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase and Angel's blurred mind only had time to recognise her rhythm before she came jumping down the stairs, her blonde hair wobbling merrily around her head in a waterfall of golden curls.
'Giles, I just realized the strangest thing -'
Then she was at the bottom of the stairs and her eyes found Wes sitting calmly at the table before her gaze lifted and he looked into her eyes again. For a moment the world stopped turning and he just looked at her, drank in the sight of her face, every line, every curve.
'Angel?' It was merely a whisper but since the world had suddenly gone silent and there was nothing but him and her, he caught her voice as if she had whispered into his ear.
'Buffy.' Because he couldn't think of anything else to say that would say as much.
'He just dropped by for a cup of coffee,' Xander sneered and broke the spell.
Angel bit his lower lip in indecision as she shivered slightly and turned from him.
'It's a demon,' Wes said as if they had not been interrupted. 'Sethek, I'm afraid.'
'The Underworld God of Egyptian Mythology?' Giles looked up from the book, for the first time allowing a streak of emotion to sneak into his voice. Surprise.
'He was released from the book when someone attempted to burn it,' Wes said as a way of explanation.
'And still the fateful question of what brought you here on your undoubtedly noble quest remains unanswered,' Xander said.
'It is written in Djé-vàil,' Wes was saying.
'Bless you,' Xander said.
Angel was looking at her, back turned to him, with a strange leaden sensation in his stomach that was far from unfamiliar but he had not experienced it in a long time.
'I see,' Giles said absent-mindedly, grimacing slightly at the stench emerging from the book as he turned the pages.
'Hey,' Buffy said, her voice stiff, 'still needing back-story here.'
Giles' expressionless face was turned to Wes. 'And you believe that the clue to this – demon – is to be found in here?'
Xander was rocking in his chair. 'Don't talk over us, people; that's rude.'
Giles blinked and looked up. 'Sorry,' he said and readjusted his glasses on his nose. 'Djé-vàil is a – a demon tongue, quite ancient and...uh – very rarely mastered by humans...'
'But you know it?' Buffy's back straightened a bit.
'Yes, yes, in fact, I do.' Giles looked back at Wes. 'And I suppose that is why you brought it here.'
'Yes,' Wes said simply.
Buffy's head shifted to Wes so the side of her face was turned to Angel. He could not read her face. 'Look, who's all talkative.' She turned to him, her face cold, expressionless. 'So, what's your deal, huh? This was too big for your mighty evil organisation to take care off?'
Her callous attitude was wounding him more than any of her blows ever could. 'Right,' he just said.
For a long second he stared into her green-blue eyes; then she turned away, leaving him feeling strangely cold inside.
'So,' she said, flinging out her arms like she used to do when she was tense or uncomfortable. 'You've faced this thing?'
Wes' head shifted slightly. 'Yes. Or rather Angel and...well, twice.'
Xander's eyebrows shot upward but Giles did not seem to notice.
'Well, this – this thing,' Wes began. 'It has the power to invade weakened minds, as in a sleeping state and impress upon them the fears of the person -'
'Like nightmares.' Xander said brusquely.
'Uhm, yes, if you will,' Wes said, 'After studying the book or setting eyes on the spirit it is able to prey on your fears in the waking as well as in the sleeping state of mind.'
'What does this thing look like?' Angel noticed that Buffy had not taking a seat like the others but was pacing restlessly. 'I mean, like mean-green- fighting machine at seven feet with horns?'
'Er – no.' Wesley paused. 'A horse.'
Xander sat up straighter. 'Once again for beginners and the hearing impaired – a horse?'
Angel could no longer stand and watch. 'The head is skeletal,' he said.
'Like very thin?'
'Like a skull.'
That got their attention.
'Thus securing some originality for itself,' Xander commented.
'I don't know,' Giles mumbled, taking his eyes of Angel. 'How many horse demons have you encountered?'
Xander's brows contracted in thought. 'Point made.'
Something occurred to Angel and as he thought about it, it became more and more implausible to him that it had not dawned on him before.
'Wait,' he muttered distantly. 'The beat was strange.' He closed his eyes and drifted back to the church, envisaging every shadow-filled ridge in its skinless face as it approached, straining his memory to recapture the sound of its hooves against the stone floor. And it came to him, slowly and quiet at first before it drummed rhythmically in his head. 'Deh, deh-deh. Deh, deh-deh.' His eyes slit open. 'It only has three legs.'
Even Wes had turned in his chair to stare at him.
'Time out!' Buffy had turned her back on him again. 'We are talking evil, demolition-loving god-thing here, right?'
'Right,' Angel confirmed.
'That takes the form of a horse?'
'Yes,' Wes replied.
'With three legs.' She nodded shortly.
'Yes,' Wes repeated.
She looked at him for a moment. 'Count me perplexed.'
'Yeah, and you can sign me up too.' Xander leant forward and picked an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table.
'It kills people by burning them inside out,' Angel said.
'As I believe was the case with your Watcher,' Wes finished.
Giles head snapped up. Buffy had frozen. 'How'd you -'
'Buff,' Xander cut in. He waved his arms a bit to illustrate his point. 'We're talking big, evil, all-knowing organisation.'
'Right.' She crossed her arms before her chest. 'Why'd you care?'
It was directed at Wes but Angel didn't care about that. 'Because it was yet another preventable fatality.'
Xander gave a short, humourless chuckle. 'Oh, yeah! Like it's -'
But he was cut off by the sound of the front door being slammed open. Angel's ears caught the sound of a couple of girl's voices before a familiar red head and a brown haired girl came pouring into the room.
'Hi guys, we're back and...Angel!' Unlike the others, it was not hatred, contempt or any such thing that filled Willow's voice as she caught sight of him, but genuine delight. He returned the smile briefly.
'Hello Willow.' Then his eyes passed her over to linger on the girl at her side and he recognised her, suddenly realizing what Spike had been referring to. And judging by her narrowing eyes and the tightening of her jaw, recognition was mutual.
Willow was turning to Wes, and Angel forced himself to break eye contact with the brunette, though he could feel the heat of her eyes upon his face even as he looked away.
'It's good to see you,' Willow was telling Wes, but then seemed to become aware of the strained atmosphere in the room because she raised her head and shot the others an uncertain look. '- is it good?'
'Sure.' Xander nodded sarcastically. 'It's swell. We've really missed having a psychotic killer around since Spike fried.'
Instinctively, Angel's eyes flew to Buffy's face just in time to see a fleeting emotion pass over it, pain and sorrow. The lead in his stomach suddenly seemed to have been accompanied by a block of ice.
Giles cleared his throat. 'Yes. Um...Mr Wyndham-Price and Angel were just enlightening us about the recent murders -'
'I bet,' the brown-haired girl snarled bitterly. She had not moved to take a seat but remained standing motionless in the doorway.
Angel noticed how both Buffy's and Xander's face turned to her.
Giles spoke again. 'Kennedy – anything to add?'
The girl – Kennedy – glared at Angel but didn't answer.
'We brought Emily back home,' Willow was saying. 'She's – she's in my room...'
Angel watched silently from his corner as Buffy took a seat beside her friend. 'Was she -' She began and then seemed to think the better of what she was trying to say. 'It's not too bad?'
'No, I think she should be okay. Given time.'
'The slayer?' Wes asked.
'One of them,' Xander answered insolently.
The room went quiet. Buffy's fingers were doing some kind of crazed tap- dance on the table. Kennedy was still glaring daggers at Angel. He was still doing his best to ignore it.
A loud slam made him jump. Wes had tossed his weathered bag onto the table, oblivious of the glares he was attracting. Pulling out a couple of files, he found the old pieces of parchment he had been searching for and handed them to Giles.
'I found these in Wolfram&Hart's library. I believe they might be referring to this text.' He gestured to the book. Giles accepted the papers.
'Thanks,' he said stiffly, clearly not meaning it. 'Why don't you take a seat?' But polite as ever, Angel thought.
'Uh-oh,' Xander slumped further down in his chair. 'I feel a research party coming!'
Buffy stood up from her chair. 'I have to patrol.'
For the first time since she'd entered the room, Kennedy's eyes left Angel. 'I can do that,' she said.
'No, you've had some harsh days. You and Will should go and get some sleep, talk to Emily. I promise you can get the whacking gig tomorrow if the offer still stands! Besides,' Angel followed her with his eyes as Buffy picked up her jacket from where it lay slung across the couch, thus giving her the perfect excuse to lay the greatest possible distance between them. 'I really need some fresh air.'
Angel's glance shifted to Xander as he spoke. 'I could go with you – strength in numbers.' Angel was quite aware of who that comment was directed at but to ensure that no one let the meaning slip, Xander was careful to glare unflinching at him as he said it.
Buffy just offered him a brief smile. 'Get some rest, Xander.'
And she left. He didn't look after her but kept staring straight into the room while her footsteps quieted as she neared the door. It squeaked slightly as she pulled it open; then came the slam that seemed to echo within his passive ribcage and she was gone.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- x-x-x
First chapter! Thanks to my faithful reviewers, AngelicDreams and nimwen, for your continuing support! Don't worry it will be BA....eventually. Please review and let me know what you think :-)
Love, Khim
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
'I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold – too cold for me –'
'Evening Star', by Edgar Allan Poe
X
It was stuck in between two other houses that were practically identical with their gently sloping roofs and small windows. From the narrow, cobbled street a couple of steps led down to the wooden front door, the stairway flanked by a spiked iron-fence. In the moonlight it was hard to decide upon the colour of the house but Angel deduced that soft crème or greyish white probably was a good call.
Wes stood behind him, silently indicating that he was not going to be the frontier guy. Sucking in a nervous breath through gritted teeth, Angel took down the steps and paused before the door, his closed fist poised uncertainly. Technically, he was already dead so things really couldn't get much worse. He knocked twice, something inside him praying that nobody was home or that his feeble attempt at gaining attention had gone unnoticed. But then the door slid open and the man inside stared at Angel with something halfway between disbelief and unguarded contempt.
'Hi Giles,' Angel finally managed.
At the sound of his voice there was a scurry of movement from within and a dark haired young man appeared beside the old watcher, his face doing a striking replication of the older man's expression.
'Deadboy!' he exclaimed with mock exaltation.
Angel looked back at the elder man whose narrowed eyes clearly said more than words ever could. 'Angel.'
'I'm sorry -' He began uncertainly.
'To bother me,' Giles concluded mordantly. His hand still rested upon the edge of the door, indicating that he had no intention whatsoever to allow the vampire entry. Angel could hardly blame him.
Xander spoke again. 'Which really poses the question: why is he here?'
Giles' eyes were piercing holes in his skull and Angel coolly returned the gaze. 'I need your help.'
'Raise your hand if you didn't see that one coming,' Xander scoffed sardonically.
'Are you still at Wolfram&Hart?' The old watcher was doing his best to keep his voice neutral.
A familiar warmth rose from Angel's abdomen at this. 'What does that have to do with anything?'
Xander was leaning against the wall and said with simulated interest: 'So, how's life as chief administer of All Evil Creatures Great and Small?'
They did not trust him. He had not expected them to either. 'That way.'
'Yeah,' Xander said. 'That way.'
'Go back to LA, Angel,' Giles said, his voice flat with anger. 'We are not here at your disposal.'
'I'm aware of that,' Angel replied sincerely.
Xander glared at Angel. 'Anyone care to explain the part where the explanation behind that was left out?'
'Mind if I cut in?' Angel was pushed aside as Wes brushed past him to face the two in the doorway. Giles expression changed to utter bewilderment. Understandably really; Wes' appearance had done a drastic u-turn since he had last seen him. 'What do you know of this?' Wes held out the book for Giles and the older watcher gingerly took it. After a quick glance his mistrustful glare travelled from Wes to Angel and back.
'Where did you find this?' He asked.
'Long story,' Angel just said, aware of the killing stare Xander was fixing him with.
'And how many did you off anonymously during this story?'
Angel did not even look at him but kept his eyes on the ex-watcher, who seemed to debate something heavily in his mind. 'Come in,' he finally said, the simple sentence seeming to cause him a lot of effort.
Wes stepped into the house and Angel followed him through the door. Xander moved slightly to let them pass but Angel was aware that his eyes did not let him go, and he could feel his glare in his back, as he walked from the narrow hallway into the rectangular living room. A large, circular table took up some of the floor space surrounded by seven or so wooden chairs. Along the right wall stood an old, cosy-looking couch flanked by an old- fashioned lamp that spit a golden glow into the room, the soft gleam carving deep shadows wherever it couldn't reach. At the far end a staircase disappeared upstairs. Beneath it, the white wall was marked by nothing but a single, closed door, the kitchen, Angel assumed. Books were staggered in heaps in ever corner, almost obscuring the small television that faced the couch, and the left wall was one large bookshelf.
On the table lay a couple of books sprawled open beside a newspaper that informed Angel that the twelfth murder had occurred. He heard the front door being shut behind him. Wes had taken a seat at the table, but Angel was not too comfortable with the thought of getting too close to the others, physically and mentally, and he leant against the bookshelf in the corner that ran adjacent to the door that opened onto the hallway.
'I guess you are aware of the deaths?' He said as way of introduction.
'No,' Xander said, slumping down at the table. 'We've just returned from Majorca, which is why we were a bit shocked to find you on our doorstep.'
'We assumed that it was a demonic force,' Giles said. He too had taken a seat at the table.
'It is,' Angel said.
'Friend of yours?' Xander offered him an acid smile.
Footsteps sounded on the staircase and Angel's blurred mind only had time to recognise her rhythm before she came jumping down the stairs, her blonde hair wobbling merrily around her head in a waterfall of golden curls.
'Giles, I just realized the strangest thing -'
Then she was at the bottom of the stairs and her eyes found Wes sitting calmly at the table before her gaze lifted and he looked into her eyes again. For a moment the world stopped turning and he just looked at her, drank in the sight of her face, every line, every curve.
'Angel?' It was merely a whisper but since the world had suddenly gone silent and there was nothing but him and her, he caught her voice as if she had whispered into his ear.
'Buffy.' Because he couldn't think of anything else to say that would say as much.
'He just dropped by for a cup of coffee,' Xander sneered and broke the spell.
Angel bit his lower lip in indecision as she shivered slightly and turned from him.
'It's a demon,' Wes said as if they had not been interrupted. 'Sethek, I'm afraid.'
'The Underworld God of Egyptian Mythology?' Giles looked up from the book, for the first time allowing a streak of emotion to sneak into his voice. Surprise.
'He was released from the book when someone attempted to burn it,' Wes said as a way of explanation.
'And still the fateful question of what brought you here on your undoubtedly noble quest remains unanswered,' Xander said.
'It is written in Djé-vàil,' Wes was saying.
'Bless you,' Xander said.
Angel was looking at her, back turned to him, with a strange leaden sensation in his stomach that was far from unfamiliar but he had not experienced it in a long time.
'I see,' Giles said absent-mindedly, grimacing slightly at the stench emerging from the book as he turned the pages.
'Hey,' Buffy said, her voice stiff, 'still needing back-story here.'
Giles' expressionless face was turned to Wes. 'And you believe that the clue to this – demon – is to be found in here?'
Xander was rocking in his chair. 'Don't talk over us, people; that's rude.'
Giles blinked and looked up. 'Sorry,' he said and readjusted his glasses on his nose. 'Djé-vàil is a – a demon tongue, quite ancient and...uh – very rarely mastered by humans...'
'But you know it?' Buffy's back straightened a bit.
'Yes, yes, in fact, I do.' Giles looked back at Wes. 'And I suppose that is why you brought it here.'
'Yes,' Wes said simply.
Buffy's head shifted to Wes so the side of her face was turned to Angel. He could not read her face. 'Look, who's all talkative.' She turned to him, her face cold, expressionless. 'So, what's your deal, huh? This was too big for your mighty evil organisation to take care off?'
Her callous attitude was wounding him more than any of her blows ever could. 'Right,' he just said.
For a long second he stared into her green-blue eyes; then she turned away, leaving him feeling strangely cold inside.
'So,' she said, flinging out her arms like she used to do when she was tense or uncomfortable. 'You've faced this thing?'
Wes' head shifted slightly. 'Yes. Or rather Angel and...well, twice.'
Xander's eyebrows shot upward but Giles did not seem to notice.
'Well, this – this thing,' Wes began. 'It has the power to invade weakened minds, as in a sleeping state and impress upon them the fears of the person -'
'Like nightmares.' Xander said brusquely.
'Uhm, yes, if you will,' Wes said, 'After studying the book or setting eyes on the spirit it is able to prey on your fears in the waking as well as in the sleeping state of mind.'
'What does this thing look like?' Angel noticed that Buffy had not taking a seat like the others but was pacing restlessly. 'I mean, like mean-green- fighting machine at seven feet with horns?'
'Er – no.' Wesley paused. 'A horse.'
Xander sat up straighter. 'Once again for beginners and the hearing impaired – a horse?'
Angel could no longer stand and watch. 'The head is skeletal,' he said.
'Like very thin?'
'Like a skull.'
That got their attention.
'Thus securing some originality for itself,' Xander commented.
'I don't know,' Giles mumbled, taking his eyes of Angel. 'How many horse demons have you encountered?'
Xander's brows contracted in thought. 'Point made.'
Something occurred to Angel and as he thought about it, it became more and more implausible to him that it had not dawned on him before.
'Wait,' he muttered distantly. 'The beat was strange.' He closed his eyes and drifted back to the church, envisaging every shadow-filled ridge in its skinless face as it approached, straining his memory to recapture the sound of its hooves against the stone floor. And it came to him, slowly and quiet at first before it drummed rhythmically in his head. 'Deh, deh-deh. Deh, deh-deh.' His eyes slit open. 'It only has three legs.'
Even Wes had turned in his chair to stare at him.
'Time out!' Buffy had turned her back on him again. 'We are talking evil, demolition-loving god-thing here, right?'
'Right,' Angel confirmed.
'That takes the form of a horse?'
'Yes,' Wes replied.
'With three legs.' She nodded shortly.
'Yes,' Wes repeated.
She looked at him for a moment. 'Count me perplexed.'
'Yeah, and you can sign me up too.' Xander leant forward and picked an apple from the bowl in the middle of the table.
'It kills people by burning them inside out,' Angel said.
'As I believe was the case with your Watcher,' Wes finished.
Giles head snapped up. Buffy had frozen. 'How'd you -'
'Buff,' Xander cut in. He waved his arms a bit to illustrate his point. 'We're talking big, evil, all-knowing organisation.'
'Right.' She crossed her arms before her chest. 'Why'd you care?'
It was directed at Wes but Angel didn't care about that. 'Because it was yet another preventable fatality.'
Xander gave a short, humourless chuckle. 'Oh, yeah! Like it's -'
But he was cut off by the sound of the front door being slammed open. Angel's ears caught the sound of a couple of girl's voices before a familiar red head and a brown haired girl came pouring into the room.
'Hi guys, we're back and...Angel!' Unlike the others, it was not hatred, contempt or any such thing that filled Willow's voice as she caught sight of him, but genuine delight. He returned the smile briefly.
'Hello Willow.' Then his eyes passed her over to linger on the girl at her side and he recognised her, suddenly realizing what Spike had been referring to. And judging by her narrowing eyes and the tightening of her jaw, recognition was mutual.
Willow was turning to Wes, and Angel forced himself to break eye contact with the brunette, though he could feel the heat of her eyes upon his face even as he looked away.
'It's good to see you,' Willow was telling Wes, but then seemed to become aware of the strained atmosphere in the room because she raised her head and shot the others an uncertain look. '- is it good?'
'Sure.' Xander nodded sarcastically. 'It's swell. We've really missed having a psychotic killer around since Spike fried.'
Instinctively, Angel's eyes flew to Buffy's face just in time to see a fleeting emotion pass over it, pain and sorrow. The lead in his stomach suddenly seemed to have been accompanied by a block of ice.
Giles cleared his throat. 'Yes. Um...Mr Wyndham-Price and Angel were just enlightening us about the recent murders -'
'I bet,' the brown-haired girl snarled bitterly. She had not moved to take a seat but remained standing motionless in the doorway.
Angel noticed how both Buffy's and Xander's face turned to her.
Giles spoke again. 'Kennedy – anything to add?'
The girl – Kennedy – glared at Angel but didn't answer.
'We brought Emily back home,' Willow was saying. 'She's – she's in my room...'
Angel watched silently from his corner as Buffy took a seat beside her friend. 'Was she -' She began and then seemed to think the better of what she was trying to say. 'It's not too bad?'
'No, I think she should be okay. Given time.'
'The slayer?' Wes asked.
'One of them,' Xander answered insolently.
The room went quiet. Buffy's fingers were doing some kind of crazed tap- dance on the table. Kennedy was still glaring daggers at Angel. He was still doing his best to ignore it.
A loud slam made him jump. Wes had tossed his weathered bag onto the table, oblivious of the glares he was attracting. Pulling out a couple of files, he found the old pieces of parchment he had been searching for and handed them to Giles.
'I found these in Wolfram&Hart's library. I believe they might be referring to this text.' He gestured to the book. Giles accepted the papers.
'Thanks,' he said stiffly, clearly not meaning it. 'Why don't you take a seat?' But polite as ever, Angel thought.
'Uh-oh,' Xander slumped further down in his chair. 'I feel a research party coming!'
Buffy stood up from her chair. 'I have to patrol.'
For the first time since she'd entered the room, Kennedy's eyes left Angel. 'I can do that,' she said.
'No, you've had some harsh days. You and Will should go and get some sleep, talk to Emily. I promise you can get the whacking gig tomorrow if the offer still stands! Besides,' Angel followed her with his eyes as Buffy picked up her jacket from where it lay slung across the couch, thus giving her the perfect excuse to lay the greatest possible distance between them. 'I really need some fresh air.'
Angel's glance shifted to Xander as he spoke. 'I could go with you – strength in numbers.' Angel was quite aware of who that comment was directed at but to ensure that no one let the meaning slip, Xander was careful to glare unflinching at him as he said it.
Buffy just offered him a brief smile. 'Get some rest, Xander.'
And she left. He didn't look after her but kept staring straight into the room while her footsteps quieted as she neared the door. It squeaked slightly as she pulled it open; then came the slam that seemed to echo within his passive ribcage and she was gone.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x- x-x-x
First chapter! Thanks to my faithful reviewers, AngelicDreams and nimwen, for your continuing support! Don't worry it will be BA....eventually. Please review and let me know what you think :-)
Love, Khim