US-101 S
Speeding down the highway, Angelus looked up above his head and sighed with relief as he passed under a large sign for 'Los Angeles'.
Los Angeles, California
Hyperion Hotel
Built in 1928, the California Spanish, deco influenced hotel was then the heart of Hollywood. Once a lavish hotel to the most dazzling and sought after stars in the Golden Age of Cinema, the Hyperion Hotel was now a luxury apartment building. Holding sixty-eight apartments and ten penthouse suites this is where Angelus called home.
The Jeep pulled up against the curb. Angel jumped out of the vehicle and sprinted towards the front entrance of the luxurious former hotel.
Angelus ran into the main lobby, which was seemingly empty.
A man stepped out from the back office. His hair was dark and the golden tips were spiked. He wore a flamboyant cream coloured zoot suit, a light blue pin-striped shirt, and a silk red cravat.
Angelus smiled, recognising the concierge. "Lorne, thank God…" Angelus rushed over to the front desk. He laughed at the wild and unbelievable morning he's had so far. "I mean, man, it's really good to see you. I've had the weirdest morning."
Lorne rolled his dark eyes over Angelus and cocked a snobbish highbrow at the heavily breathing man's 'casual' attire.
Angelus remembered his state of undress and quickly looked down at himself. He was still wearing pajama pants and a novelty t-shirt.
Rubbing an embarrassed hand over his face, Angelus noticed the look on Lorne's face. "No, Lorne, it's not what you think..."
"Sorry, Crumb Cake, only residents and guests can enter here, sugar plum."
"What are you talking about? It's me, Lorne." Angelus started to step around the counter, crossing the painted line on the floor.
"Whoa! What are you doing?" Lorne exclaimed. "You cannot be over here. You cannot come over to this side of the counter." He gestured for Angelus to step back around and stand in front of the desk.
Defensively, Angelus held up his hands, moving back around the desk. "Alright. Alright. Just calm down."
"Please, don't cross this line. Thank you." Lorne exhaled a deep breath and folded his hands together, calmly looking at Angelus.
"I'm Angelus O'Connor." Angelus pointed at himself. "I live in Penthouse D. I'm the richest guy in this entire building!"
Eyeing the underdressed man strangely, Lorne slowly nodded his head. "Uh-huh… Let me, um, look here at the resident list." He reached in the drawer below for the black book listing all of the seventy-eight residences at the hotel.
Relieved, Angelus nodded and took a minute, catching his breath. "Yeah, you do that."
Two minutes had passed and Lorne still carefully read over the long list of names in the book.
Angelus tapped his fingers anxiously and decided to take upon himself to move this along. "Listen, it's crucial that you—" He started to once again step around the counter.
"Oh, boy," Lorne touched his forehead, stressed out, "you're doing it again. You've crossed the line. You have to remain on the other side of the counter, Cinnamon Buns."
Frustrated, Angelus clenched his jaw and stepped back around to the front of the counter. "Sorry. Sorry."
"Thank you." Lorne exhaled a calming breath then closed the book. "Hm. Sorry, Strudel, but you're not on the list."
"Check again." Angelus commanded.
Lorne wore a tight but polite smile on his face. "Checked it twice."
"You know me, Lorne. I'm on the co-op board for god sakes!" Angelus raised his voice, still in utter disbelief that this was happening to him.
Leaning on the front desk, Lorne narrowed his gaze on the franic man. "Are you on drugs?"
"What? No."
Surveying Angelus for a moment longer, Lorne clucked his tongue and said, "I think it's time for you to leave, Pumpkin."
"Lorne…" Angelus desperately wanted to reason with him.
"If you don't leave, I'll be forced to call the cops, Milk Dud." Lorne picked up the telephone, holding it to his ear with his other hand hovered over the buttons, threatening to dial the dreaded three digit number.
Angelus squeezed his eyes closed and tangled his fingers in his hair. He exhaled a heavy breath, forcing himself to accept this strange reality that he was no longer a Hyperion Hotel resident.
"Okay, okay… I'm leaving." Angelus reluctantly walked towards the revolving door when he turned back to Lorne. "Lorne."
Lorne looked across the main lobby at Angelus.
"Milk Dud?"
A smile slid across Lorne's face and shrugged. "It's said with affection. Now vamoose!" He shooed the stranger away.
Dragging his feet, Angelus walked back to the Jeep and climbed inside. Exasperated, he exhaled a frustrated breath and leaned his head on the steering wheel.
Then an idea popped into his head.
Refueled with a new sense of clarity, Angelus stuck the key into the ignition and sped off into the direction of his home away from home, Wolfram & Hart.
Wolfram & Hart
Angelus threw open the large doors of the distinguished law firm and took off across the plaza towards the elevators when a security guard jumped into Angelus' path.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it right there," said the security guard, holding out his hand for Angelus to stop.
"I work here…" Angelus glanced at the guard's name tag, "Charles Gunn."
Gunn held his arms across his chest and eyed Angelus with suspicion. "Uh-huh. Right. Sure you do."
"Where's Holland Manners? Is he here yet?" Angelus asked.
Gunn cocked the arch of his brow. "Mr Manners?" He chuckled and grabbed Angelus by the elbow, walking towards the door. "Yeah, I don't think so…"
"How about Lilah Morgan?" Angelus then asked, pulling his arm free from Gunn's grasp.
Running his eyes over the man, Gunn looked at Angelus square in the eye. "Do you have an appointment?"
"What?"
"No appointment, no entry." Gunn grabbed Angelus by the shoulder, continuing to walk him towards the exit. "Come back tomorrow when you have an appointment."
"Look," Angelus freed himself once more from Gunn's grasp. "I don't know what's going on, but I work here. I am a partner at this law firm."
Gunn smirked. "I don't care who you are. You're not going anywhere without an appointment."
Angelus frustration and anger were beginning to boil over as he stood tall; pompous and proud in front of Gunn. "Maybe, you're not hearing me or your brain shrank three sizes since yesterday."
Gunn laughed, shaking his head, uncertain of whether he was insulted or amused by this man.
"I'm Angelus O'Connor." He walked over to the building directory, pointing his finger. "It's right here. Angelus O'Connor, Partner…" Angelus paused, looking at the directory. He looked back at Gunn, then back to the building directory. In the place of his name was Lindsey McDonald's name. "No... What? How?"
Gunn felt a pang of sadness for the guy. He seemed to be suffering some sort of psychosis. "Time to go." He said, gesturing towards the door.
Mourning for the loss of his wonderful and extravagant life, Angelus took pity on himself.
"Come back with an appointment." Gunn said, watching Angelus push the revolving door as he exited.
Frustrated and fraught with confusion, Angelus walked back to the Jeep like a zombie. He did not have a clue what to do or how on earth he ended up in this Alice Wonderland-like dream.
"Hey, you!"
Angelus paused mid-step and turned to the voice with a heavy Brooklyn accent.
A short man dressed in a loud pattern open collared bowling shirt, an oversized black leather jacket, a pair of ill-fitting slacks, and a fedora on his head stood directly behind Angelus. He appeared casual as he examined the cuticles of his fingernails.
"I don't have any money." Angelus said, turning away from the stranger as he headed towards the Jeep.
The man chuckled. "Yeah, no kidding. Look at you. This look really says, uh…" his eyes rolled over Angelus' unkempt appearance and winced. "... Crazy Homeless Guy. It's not good."
Annoyed by this overly honest man, Angelus glared at him. "Get away from me."
Unbothered by Angelus' immediate annoyance of him, the man tossed the toothpick in his mouth to the ground. "What are you gonna do, act like a crazy man?"
Confused, Angelus stared at the man with suspicion. "Who are you?"
"Let's take a walk." The man smiled and started to walk down the street.
Curious, Angelus went against the voice in his head screaming at him not to follow. He followed the man in tow, cautiously keeping his distance.
The two of them walked along the sidewalk for a few paces and then turned a street corner, reading towards a hotdog stand on the other side.
"I wanna know who you are." Angelus said, his eyes firmly on the stranger.
The man stopped, looking in Angelus' eyes. "And I wanna know who you are."
Angelus broke eye contact, folding his arms across his chest. "Apparently, you already do."
The man shrugged and walked closer to the hotdog stand. "Not yet. But I'm looking to find out. 'Cause you could go either way here."
"I don't understand you."
The man laughed, shaking his head. "Nobody understands me. That's my curse." He looked at the hot dog stand vendor. "Dog me. Mustard. My name's Whistler."
"Here you go," said the vendor, handing Whistler a hotdog.
"Thanks." Whistler held the hotdog in one hand and reached for a few dollars in his pocket with the other. "Anyway, lately it is." He takes a bite. "Mm."
Angelus' frown deepened. "Whaddaya mean, I can go either way?"
"I mean that you can become an even more useless narcissistic snake than you already are, or you can become someone. A person. Someone to be counted." Whistler explained.
"I just want my life back." Angelus quickly realised that he would get nowhere with this Whistler-man and decided to start backing away, heading back to the Jeep.
The smile on Whistler's face wided. "Well, yeah, of course you do. You love the high life. Man, what a package you are. Ego Man."
Growing angry by the strangers insults, Angelus whirled back around. "What do you want from me?"
The smile on Whistler's face disappeared as he instantly looked at angelus. "I want you to open your eyes. You'd have to leave now. You see, and then you tell me what you wanna do."
Seeing no other way out of this strange fever dream, Angelus decided to 'play along' hoping to get his life back. "Where is it?"
Sunnydale, California
The dark green Jeep Cherokee snaked through the curved streets of the quiet suburban neighborhood. Many houses were transitioning from Thanksgiving decorations to Christmas.
Angelus looked around the neighborhood, unable to remember which street he had lived on. He glanced at the navigation system and realised the arrow was pointing to nowhere and he had been driving in circles for twenty minutes.
"Ugh," he groaned, aggressively tapping the GPS device. "Come on!"
Angered, Angelus ripped the device from the dashboard and threw it on the passenger's seat beside him. He noticed a dark haired man on his ladder putting up Christmas lights.
Angelus pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window. "Um, Excuse me. Do you know where Revello Drive is?"
The dark haired man standing on a ladder looked over his shoulder and empathetically smiled at Angelus. "Ahn! I found him!" He said as he climbed down the ladder and walked across the front lawn to the open passenger side window.
Angelus frowned, recognising the man he knew from a lifetime ago. It was one of Buffy's oldest friends, Xander Harris. He looked different now, more put together and totally at ease with himself, which was a 180 from the insecure man Angelus once new.
"Xander? Xander Harris?"
Xander looked over Angelus, his brows rose high up his head, surprised to see his old friend in such a disheveled state. "You look terrible. C'mon in."
Angelus got out of the car and followed Xander up the driveway and into the house.
Inside: Harris Residence: Den
Following Xander into the den, Angelus looked around at his surroundings and felt sickened by the wood panel walls, an outdated widescreen TV, a dart board, and kitschy 1950s style bamboo bar.
Xander stepped around the bar and searched the bottom shelves as Angelus sat down on a stool waiting.
"Truth is, I knew you were coming." Standing up straight, Xander opened a bottle of whiskey and poured the golden brown liquid into two crystal glasses. "Buffy called and asked if I knew where you'd driven off too." Xander smirked as Angelus observed the handcrafted tiki bar. "Finally finished this puppy. Bamboo carving. Whaddaya think?"
"It's great." The pinched smile on Angelus' face was a rather poor effort to mask his true feelings, but Xander did not seem to mind.
"You and me…" Xander slid a crystal glass across the counter towards Angelus. "... We know how to live. We've got it all." He said, taking a sip.
Angelus raised the arch of his brow, eyeing Xander strangely. "Isn't it a little early?"
"You don't want a drink?" The smile on Xander's face widened, dangling the drink in front of Angelus' face.
Unable to pass up a good drink, Angelus swallowed the spicy liquid in one gulp, earning a surprised expression from Xander.
Placed on the other side of the bar, Angelus noticed a framed photograph of himself and Xander. They were at a basketball court, dressed in matching green uniforms. They looked tired but happy. Xander's arm slung around the back of Angelus' neck.
Their relationship seemed very different from the last that Angelus remembered.
"We're friends?" Angelus asked, shifting his gaze from the photograph to Xander.
Xander eyed his friend with a bit of confusion. Over the phone, Buffy had warned him that Angelus was acting very peculiarly. "Yeah, we're best friends. I mean, it wasn't always that way but we're good friends now." Xander noticed the sickly look on Angelus' face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm having a really weird day." He said, running a hand over his face.
Best friends? They always had a very contentious relationship. A rivalry. They were both in love with the same woman. Angelus began to wonder how they were able to overcome their differences.
"Trouble at work?"
"I don't think so…" The frown on Angelus' face deppened, still unsure what was going on but now his mind wandered to what he did for a living. He hoped to God he wasn't a salesman of some sort.
"Trouble at home?" Xander narrowed his gaze on Angelus. "It's not Buffy, is it?"
Angelus paused at the mention of Buffy and how he had woken up with her in bed this morning. Only it wasn't really her because this dream land wasn't real.
"Buffy's my wife…" he said carefully.
Xander smiled, drinking back the whiskey. "Just keep bragging. Lucky bastard. You've got 'the life'. In your thirties, house, kids, financial responsibilities. But, you start thinking, this isn't the life I imagined. Where's the romance? Suddenly, every lingerie ad in those fashion magazines represents a life you can't have."
"It's just the two kids, right?" Angelus had nearly forgotten about the two little humans that had burst into the bedroom this morning.
"You made a choice, Angel, a promise to your wife." Xander wisely told his friend. "Maybe sometimes it seems you gave up a big huge world of extravagance, but look at what you got… Four bedrooms, two and a half baths, an unfinished basement… kids… a knockout for a wife. Can't get any better than this."
Angelus felt his heart drop into his stomach and that familiar knot in his chest tighten.
Can't get any better than this? He repeated in his mind, not at all convinced of its truth.
"C'mon," Xander put the glass down and tapped his hands on the bar counter. "I better get you home. Buffy's pissed enough."
Angelus froze. The sudden memory of Buffy's temper gave him pause. His ex-fiancée was wildly ferocious when she was mad.
1630 Revello Drive
Standing on the front porch of his home, Angelus inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself for Buffy's wrath. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob and opened the door.
Stepping into the foyer holding a cellphone to her ear, Buffy exhaled a breath with a moment of relief to see her husband. But the look of relief in her eyes quickly faded into a look of anger.
"Never mind, Willow. He just walked in." She said with an exasperated bite.
Angelus swallowed and against his better judgement ran his eyes over her. Even after all of this time, Buffy was positively stunning. Dressed for her job, she wore high-waist black wide-legged trousers, white v-neck blouse tucked in, and a pair of stilettos.
Surprised, Angelus felt the blood in his body rush straight to his cock. "Wow, you look nice." He noticed the length of her long golden hair that fell around her shoulders in loose ringlet curls. "You grew your hair long."
"Yeah, years ago." She said, not at all falling into the trap of his charming man compliments. "Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?"
Angelus sighed, hanging the Jeep keys on a hook. "Yeah… I'm fine." He turned back to Buffy and grimaced as she glared at him and punched his shoulder. "Ow!" Angelus cried in shock. "What was that for?"
"Do you have any idea what you put me through? You just left, Angel! I had the police looking for you! I called hospitals… the morgue… everyone that we knew for god's sake! What kind of man leaves his family without a word about where he's going?"
"I don't know! Stop yelling at me!" He whined, stepping around her, creating a distance between himself and his angry wife.
"Where were you?" Buffy demanded to know.
Angelus leaned on the stair post. "I was in the city."
"The city?" She asked, her eyes wide with surprise. "Like Los Angeles? Why?"
"Because that's where I live." Angelus matter-of-factly answered.
Frustrated and at a loss for words, Buffy heavily sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, suddenly plagued with a massive migraine. "Angel, please, not this again." She walked through the dining room and into the kitchen where the children sat eating cereal at the counter island.
"Buffy, you don't understand." Angelus was hot on her heels following her into the kitchen. "I woke up here. This isn't my house. I'm not 'Dad' and you," he pointed at her, "Buffy, aren't my wife."
Buffy stood at the sink, holding two empty cereal bowls in her hands. She ran her eyes over Angelus, assessing his seriousness. "I don't know what's gotten into you but I'm angry."
Angelus shrugged, unsure what to say to make her 'not' angry anymore.
A few moments passed, Buffy grew angrier when he did not respond or try to defuse her anger in any way. "Angel!" She shouted his name and stormed out of the kitchen.
Angelus rushed out of the kitchen, following Buffy into the living room as she gathered the children's backpacks thrown on the floor. "Buffy… Buf… I'm-I'm sorry, okay?" He said, shocked at himself for its genuinity.
Buffy stood straight, she turned to him and looked into his dark brown eyes, begging her to forgive him. She exhaled a breath, visibly much calmer. "Look, we don't have time for this right now. We'll talk about it later. You need to get Katie to school and Liam to daycare. And you're not wearing that to work so get dressed."
"Work. What do I do?" Angelus asked, following her as she walked out of the living room and back into the kitchen.
"Really, Angel? You're a nonprofit lawyer."
Angelus paused mid-step. His worst fears had suddenly come to life. Being a salesman would be bad but a nonprofit lawyer seemed exponentially worse. "Nonprofit? You mean, I work pro bono. I don't get paid at all."
Buffy disappeared into the kitchen.
"You've gotta be kidding me." Angelus muttered to himself before following Buffy inside.
Bathroom
Stepping out of the shower, Angelus stood at the mirror with a towel around his waist. He wiped a hand over the foggy mirror and stared at himself, still not fully able to accept this new reality.
Opening the mirror cabinet, Angelus frowned, noticing that most of the three of four shelves were taken up by Buffy. He had a single shelf with a razor, deodorant, and a bottle of cologne.
Angered, confused, and depressed for how little he had in this life, Angelus closed the mirror cabinet and walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
He stood at the closest that was mostly taken up by Buffy's clothing. Some things never change. Angelus stared at the row of clothing and pulled out a pair of Haggar slacks and a Dockers sport coat. He lowered his eyes to the floor and spotted a pair of imitation leather shoes.
Studying the depressing wardrobe, Angelus' upper lip curled in disgust. "This is just…" he searched for the word, "... pathetic."
Noticing a small child standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, Angelus looked at the girl. She had long dark brown hair, big brown eyes, and a little pert nose. Despite her darker features she seemed to have inherited from him, there was no mistaking that this girl was Buffy's daughter.
The pair exchanged a few long and silent moments of a stare-off. Angelus narrowed his gaze on the girl, which seemed to have frightened her, because she promptly ran away.
Smirking triumphantly, Angelus turned his attention back to the slacks and sports coat in his hand and mournfully sighed.
Walking down the stairs, Angelus fixed the cuff of his dress shirt under the blazer. He had decided on a grey dress shirt, a black blazer coat, and a pair of black trousers. It wasn't designer brands as he was used to but it would do for now.
He rounded into the living room standing in the french doorway. Buffy watched the children put away a few toys before heading to school.
She turned to her husband and looked him over. A small approving smile crossed her attractive face. "You look more like yourself."
Angelus stared at her, his eyes deadened. "You're joking."
Buffy chuckled and bent down, picking up the toddler boy. "Can you change him?"
Angelus winced.
"Don't give me that look." She held out the boy for Angelus to take.
Reluctantly, Angelus took the boy from her and held him away from his body.
"Please go and change your son and, please, try to get Liam to daycare on time, okay? I've got to get to work. I'm already gonna be majorly late. I'll see you guys later." Buffy crouched down in front of Katie, holding her little chin in her hand. Buffy kissed the girl's cheek. "Have a good day at school, sweetheart." Buffy stood and stepped over to Angelus holding Liam. She playfully kissed the boy until he giggled then drew back, looking up at Angelus with a loving gaze. She tenderly touched his cheek. "Try to take it easy today and lay off the caffeine, you know it makes you jittery. Bye." Buffy headed into the foyer, grabbing her coat and large pocketbook, opened the front door and walked out of the house.
Left along with the children, Angelus eyed Katie and Liam wryly.
Liam's Bedroom
Angelus leaned on the changing table, staring down at Liam laying on his back. He grinned an adorable toothy smile as he flew the toy airplane over his head.
Seated on a small children's plastic chair, Katie stared up at Angelus. Her hands folded on her lap. Her dark eyes keenly observing him.
Angelus surveyed the toddler and the 'equipment' he had at hand to get this new diaper on. Scratching his chin, Angelus didn't have a clue where to start.
He picked up the box of diapers from the floor. He looked inside the box in his hands in search of an instructions manual. He turned the box around and found a step-by-step how to on the back of the box.
"Pull tape…" He read aloud and looked down at Liam's diaper with uncertainty. "What tape?"
Angelus manhandled the toddler in search of the tape he had been advised to pull.
Finally locating the tape at the front of the diaper, he gingerly pulled them apart, releasing the diaper from the baby's bottom, and saw what was inside. "Oh! Oh God!" Angelus looked away from the poopy diaper. "Did that come out of you? " He gagged, holding the diaper out and away from him. He frantically looked around the bedroom in search of a waste basket.
Katie pointed to the Diaper Genie between the changing table and a tall dresser.
Observing her father, Katie became increasingly convinced that this was not her father at all. He acted strange and not at all like the loving man she knew. "Are you an alien living in the body of my dad?" The six-year-old suddenly asked.
Angelus glanced over his shoulder at Katie. She looked at him with complete earnestness.
For a few moments, they wordlessly stare at one another.
"I'm not an alien." Angelus answered, continuing to try and manage the diaper situation.
"But you're not my dad, are you?"
Angelus paused and turned around, facing the little girl. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the changing table. "No. I'm not. I'm a partner at a major law firm in Los Angeles. I live in a high-rise penthouse and I drive a 1967 Plymouth GTX. This isn't my life."
"Where's my real dad?" She asked.
"I don't know."
Katie's face was fraught with concern. She bit her bottom lip and dark eyes welled with unshed tears.
Angelus picked Liam up from the changing table and placed him down on the floor. He stepped over to Katie and crouched down in front of her. "Hey, don't worry, um, Kate. Your dad loves you very much and I'm sure he'll be back soon. Very soon."
Skeptically, Katie held out her hands, grabbing Angelus' face. She smushed his cheeks together then pushed up his upper lip, examining his white teeth and squeezed the tip of his nose. "The aliens did a pretty good job. You look just like him."
Angelus frowned. "Um, thanks." He said, uncomfortable under Katie's scrutinising gaze. "You're not going to cry are you? 'Cause I don't know if I can handle that right now."
"Do you like kids?" Katie asked.
Angelus shrugged, never really thinking about children before. "You're not so bad."
Katie slowly nodded her head. "Do you promise not to kidnap me or my brother and implant chips in our brains?"
"Sure." Angelus cocked the arch of his brow.
Satisfied with his answers, Katie laid a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to Sunnydale."
Angelus wanted to die.