Title: Destiny Denied, Chapter Eight of ?
Author(s): Specks, Nina, and Ky feedback to the
Rating: This chapter is PG-13.
Summary: AU, folks... Everyone has a destiny, even though Buffy and Angel have long been denied theirs. A changing of the guard causes history to be rewritten and proves that, in the end, no one (yes, Joss and Marti, we're looking at you!) can alter what is destined to come to pass...
Spoilers: None, that we could think of…
Disclaimers: Brace yourselves, folks, this may come as a shock to some of you: We are of sound minds, which means, by default, that we are *not* Marti or Joss or David Greenwalt. As a matter of fact, we're not any one (three) in any way involved with the shows, the networks, the production companies, the actors, their agents... yada, yada, yada… We're just some B/A fans, having a little fun with these characters while their owners are off making money with them.
Distribution: FF.net, these lists, Nina's http://www.concordia-discors.com, and Speck's site (eventually).
Ky thanks no one, but herself, cause she's sort of Cordy-like this week.
Nina thanks the malevolent hedgehogs, the head squealer for adding years to her therapy, and whatever gods may be for having such an... interesting... sense of humor: Maybe someday, they'll clue her in on a joke or two, and TMB's loyal feederbackers: for taking the time to read and comment on our insanity
Specks thanks her umbrella carrying penguin, not to be confused with other non-umbrella carrying penguins.
We apologize to the English, because, well… they're English, companionless souls out, lisping alpha males, sociopaths, the power hungry, and anyone actually expecting Buffy to appear within the first dozen or so chapters of any story ;o
* * *
The vampire picked up the shell of a dead locust, and crumbled it into a brass bowl that rested on top of his oak desk. He added petals from a full-blown rose and crushed them into the crumbled insect's body until they made a paste and rolled the paste into a ball. With careful hands, he inserted the ball into a small burlap sack, and tied it around his neck with twine. Quickly, he stuffed it under his shirt and closed his eyes while chanting:
"Hollow shell, crumbling down
Encase the Eternal all around
When approached by Watchers now
Mask my youth with an Elderly brow."
With a sigh, he looked into a hand mirror. A wrinkled countenance peered back at him. It was odd having a reflection after all these years. It was odder still to see how he'd look if he aged… And he was beginning to realize he wanted to age- a human soul wasn't meant to exist without companionship… He shook off the dismal thoughts. He was making a difference… He had saved many innocents over the years; maybe even balancing out some of the evil his demon had wrought.
"England," the brooding vampire sighed to himself as he placed the mirror on the smooth golden oak- soon he'd leave this dreary land. For some reason the PTBs thought it was a good idea to send an Irish Catholic Vampire to the Watcher's Council in England… So many things about this project had made him uncomfortable, he didn't know where to begin… In addition, it was foggy, dismal, rained a lot and he was pretty sure he gave the current slayer a "bad vibe", as Whistler would say- The ring didn't mask his vampiric nature. And he missed his leather pants, which he couldn't very well wear here, but at least he didn't have to wear tweed.
"Ahem, Mr. Donovan," Fiona interrupted politely, "Don't we have an appointment to patrol this evening?"
"Of course, Fiona," Angel answered trying to sound Watcher-like and, he shuddered to himself, English, "I was planning to accompany you on your patrol tonight…"
Especially tonight. It was her eighteenth birthday and he was not going to let her patrol alone in her weakened condition.
The masked predator rose and slipped on an over-coat. The slayer, usually nervous in his presence, seemed completely at ease. She turned absentmindedly towards the door and bumped into the frame.
"Ouch!" she shouted in pain.
Angel raised an eyebrow, "Did that hurt you?"
"Did ya miss me hollering 'ouch'?" the slayer answered incredulously, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, hasn't it has been an peculiar week for me?"
"Are you all right to patrol?" he asked, hoping she'd realize she wasn't.
"Aren't I the Slayer?"
"That really isn't an answer…"
"REALLY!" the redhead huffed as she spun and walked out the door, unceremoniously knocking into the doorknob this time.
Maybe she'll knock herself unconscious, the vampire thought hopefully as he followed her out of his office.
* * *
The waxing moon hung in a thin slice overhead as they passed through the cemetery's stone gates. Angel's could barely suppress a growl, as the hair on his neck rose. The air hummed with power, and he could feel the presence of a large a cadre of vampires close by- the slayer was oblivious.
The red head sighed contentedly, "It doesn't seem as if we'll be busy tonight, does it? Do you want to go home?" she asked as she turned away from him.
His eyes flashed yellow, as a fledgling slipped between them and grabbed the slayer from behind. She started in surprise and tried to flip the inexperienced vampire over her back, tried being the operative word.
The vamp stayed firmly in place.
Fiona's eyes grew wide in horror as the unholy creature's extended canines descended towards her jugular. It was time for Angel to earn his keep.
He crossed the few feet between him and the slayer before the vamp's teeth ever touched her flesh. With a flick of his wrist, the stake became firmly embedded in the vamp's heart, and it shattered into dust. One down, five more to go.
The slayer fell to her knees, gasping for air, as five vamps approached in demonic visage.
"Well, well, well, it looks as if the slayer isn't as almighty powerful as she thought…" the alpha male of the pack lisped through his teeth as he sauntered towards Angel's charge.
"No, but I am," Angel hissed softly, challenging the leader.
"What do we have here? An overly zealous Watcher, or something else…"
Angel didn't wait for him to figure it out. With a front snap kick, the male's head went back leaving his chest unprotected. The lead was quickly dust.
"Anyone else interested in fighting an overly zealous Watcher?" Angel growled as the pack turned and ran, "I guess not."
"How did you do that?" came a trembling voice from behind him.
He turned to the crumpled girl who stared up at him from her knees. Her eyes were wide in fear and surprise as she watched him in disbelief.
"I am a Watcher, after all. It isn't as if I'm not trained to fight."
"If you're trained to fight like that, why do they need Slayers?" she grumbled under her breath.
"I'm one in a million," he answered with a smirk as he helped the Slayer off the ground, "And I think you ought to go home and get some rest; you don't seem quite yourself tonight."
"Do ya think?" she grumped as they limped home.
* * *
He had been summoned to the council's library at 3:00 a.m., which was no shock to him. It was a surprise to the Council that their slayer had made it home alive. He smirked grimly to himself as he followed a younger watcher to the main library, where the rest of the group waited. He was verbally accosted before he could pass through the doorway.
"Mr. Donovan, you are being put on permanent sabbatical for interfering with our Slayer's initiation…"
"You mean assassination," Angel jabbed back as he leaned back casually against the doorframe.
"Sending a cadre of vampires to kill the slayer is insane!"
"I object to your terms," William Travers roared, "It is a test…"
"A test…" Angel snidely sniped.
"Yes, a test. You come from the old school of thought, that slayers were to be revered. Your school of thought has gotten us nowhere in our war against darkness! We have realized that Slayers are simply weapons. We are in control now, Mr. Donovan; because of your lineage, we cannot dismiss you, but consider yourself retired."
Angel stared into the eyes of a sociopath, and then around the room of power hungry men who followed him.
"I think the darkness has more control than you could possibly imagine," he said softly as he turned and left.
Author(s): Specks, Nina, and Ky feedback to the
Rating: This chapter is PG-13.
Summary: AU, folks... Everyone has a destiny, even though Buffy and Angel have long been denied theirs. A changing of the guard causes history to be rewritten and proves that, in the end, no one (yes, Joss and Marti, we're looking at you!) can alter what is destined to come to pass...
Spoilers: None, that we could think of…
Disclaimers: Brace yourselves, folks, this may come as a shock to some of you: We are of sound minds, which means, by default, that we are *not* Marti or Joss or David Greenwalt. As a matter of fact, we're not any one (three) in any way involved with the shows, the networks, the production companies, the actors, their agents... yada, yada, yada… We're just some B/A fans, having a little fun with these characters while their owners are off making money with them.
Distribution: FF.net, these lists, Nina's http://www.concordia-discors.com, and Speck's site (eventually).
Ky thanks no one, but herself, cause she's sort of Cordy-like this week.
Nina thanks the malevolent hedgehogs, the head squealer for adding years to her therapy, and whatever gods may be for having such an... interesting... sense of humor: Maybe someday, they'll clue her in on a joke or two, and TMB's loyal feederbackers: for taking the time to read and comment on our insanity
Specks thanks her umbrella carrying penguin, not to be confused with other non-umbrella carrying penguins.
We apologize to the English, because, well… they're English, companionless souls out, lisping alpha males, sociopaths, the power hungry, and anyone actually expecting Buffy to appear within the first dozen or so chapters of any story ;o
* * *
The vampire picked up the shell of a dead locust, and crumbled it into a brass bowl that rested on top of his oak desk. He added petals from a full-blown rose and crushed them into the crumbled insect's body until they made a paste and rolled the paste into a ball. With careful hands, he inserted the ball into a small burlap sack, and tied it around his neck with twine. Quickly, he stuffed it under his shirt and closed his eyes while chanting:
"Hollow shell, crumbling down
Encase the Eternal all around
When approached by Watchers now
Mask my youth with an Elderly brow."
With a sigh, he looked into a hand mirror. A wrinkled countenance peered back at him. It was odd having a reflection after all these years. It was odder still to see how he'd look if he aged… And he was beginning to realize he wanted to age- a human soul wasn't meant to exist without companionship… He shook off the dismal thoughts. He was making a difference… He had saved many innocents over the years; maybe even balancing out some of the evil his demon had wrought.
"England," the brooding vampire sighed to himself as he placed the mirror on the smooth golden oak- soon he'd leave this dreary land. For some reason the PTBs thought it was a good idea to send an Irish Catholic Vampire to the Watcher's Council in England… So many things about this project had made him uncomfortable, he didn't know where to begin… In addition, it was foggy, dismal, rained a lot and he was pretty sure he gave the current slayer a "bad vibe", as Whistler would say- The ring didn't mask his vampiric nature. And he missed his leather pants, which he couldn't very well wear here, but at least he didn't have to wear tweed.
"Ahem, Mr. Donovan," Fiona interrupted politely, "Don't we have an appointment to patrol this evening?"
"Of course, Fiona," Angel answered trying to sound Watcher-like and, he shuddered to himself, English, "I was planning to accompany you on your patrol tonight…"
Especially tonight. It was her eighteenth birthday and he was not going to let her patrol alone in her weakened condition.
The masked predator rose and slipped on an over-coat. The slayer, usually nervous in his presence, seemed completely at ease. She turned absentmindedly towards the door and bumped into the frame.
"Ouch!" she shouted in pain.
Angel raised an eyebrow, "Did that hurt you?"
"Did ya miss me hollering 'ouch'?" the slayer answered incredulously, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, hasn't it has been an peculiar week for me?"
"Are you all right to patrol?" he asked, hoping she'd realize she wasn't.
"Aren't I the Slayer?"
"That really isn't an answer…"
"REALLY!" the redhead huffed as she spun and walked out the door, unceremoniously knocking into the doorknob this time.
Maybe she'll knock herself unconscious, the vampire thought hopefully as he followed her out of his office.
* * *
The waxing moon hung in a thin slice overhead as they passed through the cemetery's stone gates. Angel's could barely suppress a growl, as the hair on his neck rose. The air hummed with power, and he could feel the presence of a large a cadre of vampires close by- the slayer was oblivious.
The red head sighed contentedly, "It doesn't seem as if we'll be busy tonight, does it? Do you want to go home?" she asked as she turned away from him.
His eyes flashed yellow, as a fledgling slipped between them and grabbed the slayer from behind. She started in surprise and tried to flip the inexperienced vampire over her back, tried being the operative word.
The vamp stayed firmly in place.
Fiona's eyes grew wide in horror as the unholy creature's extended canines descended towards her jugular. It was time for Angel to earn his keep.
He crossed the few feet between him and the slayer before the vamp's teeth ever touched her flesh. With a flick of his wrist, the stake became firmly embedded in the vamp's heart, and it shattered into dust. One down, five more to go.
The slayer fell to her knees, gasping for air, as five vamps approached in demonic visage.
"Well, well, well, it looks as if the slayer isn't as almighty powerful as she thought…" the alpha male of the pack lisped through his teeth as he sauntered towards Angel's charge.
"No, but I am," Angel hissed softly, challenging the leader.
"What do we have here? An overly zealous Watcher, or something else…"
Angel didn't wait for him to figure it out. With a front snap kick, the male's head went back leaving his chest unprotected. The lead was quickly dust.
"Anyone else interested in fighting an overly zealous Watcher?" Angel growled as the pack turned and ran, "I guess not."
"How did you do that?" came a trembling voice from behind him.
He turned to the crumpled girl who stared up at him from her knees. Her eyes were wide in fear and surprise as she watched him in disbelief.
"I am a Watcher, after all. It isn't as if I'm not trained to fight."
"If you're trained to fight like that, why do they need Slayers?" she grumbled under her breath.
"I'm one in a million," he answered with a smirk as he helped the Slayer off the ground, "And I think you ought to go home and get some rest; you don't seem quite yourself tonight."
"Do ya think?" she grumped as they limped home.
* * *
He had been summoned to the council's library at 3:00 a.m., which was no shock to him. It was a surprise to the Council that their slayer had made it home alive. He smirked grimly to himself as he followed a younger watcher to the main library, where the rest of the group waited. He was verbally accosted before he could pass through the doorway.
"Mr. Donovan, you are being put on permanent sabbatical for interfering with our Slayer's initiation…"
"You mean assassination," Angel jabbed back as he leaned back casually against the doorframe.
"Sending a cadre of vampires to kill the slayer is insane!"
"I object to your terms," William Travers roared, "It is a test…"
"A test…" Angel snidely sniped.
"Yes, a test. You come from the old school of thought, that slayers were to be revered. Your school of thought has gotten us nowhere in our war against darkness! We have realized that Slayers are simply weapons. We are in control now, Mr. Donovan; because of your lineage, we cannot dismiss you, but consider yourself retired."
Angel stared into the eyes of a sociopath, and then around the room of power hungry men who followed him.
"I think the darkness has more control than you could possibly imagine," he said softly as he turned and left.
