Characters:

Angel: electrakitty74

Collins: sflynn

Angel headed down the street, towards her favorite spot for drumming, on Avenue A, near 11th street, near her friend Mimi's apartment building. There always seemed to be artists around down there, and regardless of what anyone said, the less money people had, the more generous they seemed to be with it. The bohemians in Alphabet City helped each other out. Not that she really needed money tonight. Tonight she was just out drumming for the pleasure of it. As she got closer and closer to Mimi's building, she could hear loud shouting and singing. There seemed to be a riot of some kind going on. The light reflecting off the building in front of her looked like fire. This wasn't entirely unusual. The people who lived in the tent city often had fires lit. Angel herself had stood with them on numerous occasions to warm her hands while she was drumming, but in order to be reflecting off the building the way this fire was, it would have to be in the street. Either that or one of the buildings had to be on fire. Mimi's building! She hurried the last couple of blocks, extremely curious and a little worried now. When she got to Avenue A, she saw that all the residents of Mimi's building and the one across the street were out on their fire escapes throwing burning paper into the street. In the middle of the street, amongst a hundred angry people was a big black guy she'd seen around from time to time. She hadn't seen him around much lately, now that she thought of it, and he seemed to be dressing better than he had in the old days. There was one thing for sure; he was an attractive piece of man. She had always thought so, even though he always had seemed to be separate from the squalor of Alphabet City. Somehow, he always seemed just above his surroundings. She looked up and saw Mimi on her fire escape, protesting along with the others, so she joined in the fray herself, dodging a large cascade of burning papers which seemed to fall from nowhere. One of the embers landed on her red wool baseball jacket, burning yet another hole. She smelled burning hair for a moment. "Oh well," she thought. "It's not like that's its first hole. It'll need replacing soon enough." People started to quiet before long. The riot seemed to be breaking up. Angel looked up at Mimi again and saw that she was looking down at her. Climbing up on a fire hydrant, she saluted her old friend with her ever-present drumsticks. She jumped down and headed across the street to set up her drum. Settling down next to a tin trashcan, she put down her backpack and drum, took hold of her drumsticks and began to play, eyes closed. After she'd played for a few minutes, she heard coughing from the alleyway across the street. She pulled her jacket around her thin shoulders, gathered her stuff, and headed off curiously toward the sound.

"Hello?"

-----

Nothing says 'Merry Christmas' like a sound ass-kicking, Collins thought as he struggled to open his eyes. Hell, maybe he'd let a taxi back over him to ring in the New Year. That his thoughts had turned in such a direction made him think he wasn't thinking straight at all. He nearly chuckled at the absurdity of it all, but all that escaped him was a weak cough chased by a groan.

This was not good. Forcing his eyes open, he decided he needed two things: to stand up and get the hell out of the alley he was currently sprawled in, and to get a stiff drink. He'd rather it weren't quite in that order, as even sitting up was going to hurt like hell.

Closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath and heaved himself up into a sitting position against the nearest wall. Stars danced in front of his eyes as the pain of moving brought on another coughing fit.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there when he heard someone call "hello?"

He really needed to get up and out of the alley. Who knew who could be there, who could find him like this. Maybe the thugs had come back for his sleeve; he wouldn't put it past some people. Regardless, in his current state fighting back wasn't an option. He tried one more time to stand up, but only slid back down the wall, coughing weakly and resigning himself to being found. He was, in a word, fucked. And there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it but wait.

-----

Angel walked down the dark alleyway, ignoring all common sense. She knew what kinds of things happened in dark alleyways. She had been on the receiving end of more than her fair share of ass-kickings and, on one not-so-special occasion, worse. But far stronger than her instinct for self-preservation was her sense of compassion. It sounded like someone was hurt here, or at least sick and needing help. The notion that it could be a trap flickered briefly through her brain, but was quickly banished. Then she saw him, a tall medium-skinned black man leaning awkwardly against the wall, holding one hand to his bleeding nose and gripping a scrap of fabric with the other. He looked dazed, to say the least. Angel quickly dropped her bag, drum, and sticks and ran to his side.

"Are you ok, honey?"

-----

Tom was certain he'd taken one too many hits to the head. The last thing he'd expect from anyone was compassion, and he was wary of it. The young man did look genuinely concerned for him, though. Collins looked at him while holding his hand to his nose (a futile effort, as the bleeding didn't seem to want to stop), thinking quickly. Was he ok? Obviously not. But he wasn't unconscious, and that was something...though being passed out would almost be preferable. His brain jumped on the thought, prompting him to say, "I'm afraid so."

-----

Angel cocked her head to one side. 'I'm afraid so?' What kind of answer was that? She looked again at him and smiled. He had such beautiful brown eyes. She could feel herself melting into them. Angel, pull yourself together! she chastised herself. He needs to get out of here, he doesn't need you to hit on him! Her fevered brain searched for something to say which wouldn't sound ridiculous. "Did they get any money?"

-----

Collins, still preoccupied with his nose and blood-covered hand, barely glanced up. "I didn't have any money, but they took my stuff," he said before returning his hand to his face.

-----

Angel knelt down to the man's level, trying to get him to look at her. That bloody nose had her worried. Suddenly she remembered the towel she kept tucked into her waistband. She pulled it out, and tried to clean up some of the blood on his face.

-----

Collins jerked back from his rescuer's hand. The young man was trying to help him, it would be a hell of a thing to repay him with getting sick. He finally looked up, and his breath caught in his throat. "I'm fine," he said, taking the towel in a hand that was suddenly shaking more than it had been seconds ago.

-----

Angel settled back on her heels, noticing the way his hands were shaking. She bit back a smirk. Unless she had much misjudged him, the attraction she was feeling went both ways. She smiled a little. "I'm Angel."

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"Angel," Tom repeated. Looking at the face before him he mentally added Of the first degree...then could feel himself blushing as he realized he'd said it aloud. "My friends call me Collins," he managed to say, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Tom Collins."

-----

Grinning, she touched the tip of his nose gently with her finger. "You're cute when you blush, Mr. Tom Collins."
Picking up her stuff, she stood and reached down to help him up.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up. There's a Life Support meeting at 9:30." She paused, noticing the odd way he was now looking at her Great, she thought. He's freaked out by the HIV-thing. They all are. So much for this relationship. "Yes," she said a little defensively, "This body provides a comfortable home for the Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome."

-----

Tom was trying to ignore the way Angel's touch had made him feel (not the time or place for such thoughts, he reminded himself repeatedly) when Angel made his announcement. His heart broke a little upon hearing it, as it always did when he learned someone shared his condition. It was somehow more poignant this time, though. About to dwell on that thought, he noticed the look that had come across Angel's face while he was thinking and rushed to reassure him. "As does mine," he said.

-----

Angel smiled. Apparently she had misjudged his earlier expression. She was never happy to hear that someone was HIV-positive, but she'd never been happier to hear it than she was at this moment. Now there was just that last hurdle to get over before she knew if there was going to be anything between them. Not the time to worry about that now, she reminded herself. She heard herself say "We'll get along fine then. C'mon, we'll go back to my place so I can change and you can get cleaned up. We'll find something to eat, then go over to St Mark's Place and see if we can't find you a new coat. It's freezing out here."

-----

It was a sound plan. Collins looked at Angel and thought, no, it's a great plan. He paused suddenly. Great, except..."My friends are waiting--"

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"They can come along too. The more the merrier, honey." She looked into his eyes again. Must stop doing that. Hard to concentrate "We'll just swing by my place, clean up and change and come back to get them. Ok?"

-----

Yes, they could come back for Mark and Roger. After going to Angel's place. Angel's place? What was he doing? He didn't get a chance to question it further because Angel was looking up at him, meeting his eyes, and he found himself nodding. Anything you want. "Okay."

-----

She smiled at him and started off, feeling him following close behind. She led him to her apartment complex, four blocks away, walking slowly so he could keep up. She worried a little about how much walking was hurting him, and kept checking on him over her shoulder. He seemed to be doing ok. How would he handle the stairs? When they reached the building, she opened the front door and held it for him, offering her hand and helping him up onto the doorstep. "Sorry, I live on the second floor. The elevator's broken, we'll have to walk. Can you make it?"

-----

Collins had been taking the journey one step at a time and had felt fairly okay at first, but by the time Angel opened the door for him he was pretty certain he was either about to collapse or pass out. Or both. Just one flight of stairs and he could sit down again. He didn't think he could do it. Not on his own. He kept Angel's hand in his and said, "I can make it...but I think I'll need help."

-----

Angel bit her lip, doing her best not to squeak. She couldn't believe that he was still holding her hand. She tried desperately not to betray her excitement, but she was afraid that she had a huge grin on her face. Leading him to the stairwell, she let go of his hand, put her arm around his waist, and her shoulder under his arm, supporting him carefully while he climbed.

-----

Collins leaned gratefully against the smaller man, taking each stair slowly. Maybe a little more slowly than he really needed to. He couldn't help himself, though. The stress and pain he was feeling from the beating he'd taken paled into background noise when Angel touched him. It was more than that, though, and he knew it. His arm thrown over Angel's shoulder, their bodies leaning into one another, felt right in a way that he'd never known. He shook his head as they neared the top step. He was clearly exhausted, if his fanciful thoughts were any indication.

-----

As they reached the top of the stairs, Angel could feel his body starting to weigh heavier on her own. He shook his head. "You doing ok, honey? Do you need to take a rest?" She was really starting to get worried about him again. Poor thing must've taken a worse beating than I thought. She hoped desperately that he didn't need to go to the hospital. Angel hated hospitals and she certainly didn't want to turn him over to one. Selfishly, she admitted that she wanted to take care of him herself.

-----

A rest sounded wonderful, but Tom was afraid that if they stopped he'd be done. "I'll be fine," he said, embarrassed by how winded he was, "I just need to lie down. I can keep going."

-----

She braced her body a little more firmly against his, trying not to think about what his skin looked like under his shirt. They made it the last few steps and she fished in her jacket for the keys. She unlocked her door and renewed her grip on his waist, helping him into the apartment and onto the couch. She hated to leave him alone, but needed to run back downstairs for her drum and sticks which she had abandoned in favor of getting him up the stairs. "I'll be right back."

-----

Collins was so grateful to be stationary again he could have cried with relief. What a night. He was exhausted, his nose was killing him and he hurt all over, he was checking out Angel's ass as he walked away... He blinked and shook his head. Angel had shown him incredible kindness and he was repaying it by acting like an old lecher. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He could behave, and would he promised himself, as soon as Angel returned.

-----

Angel ran quickly down the stairs, mentally running over the inventory of what she had to offer the man who was currently stretched our on her sofa. He looks like he could use a drink. Wonder if I still have any of that . . . Yeah, I think Mimi left some the last time she was here She ran back up the stairs and into her apartment, almost startled to see him as if part of her brain had been convinced he was a dream. She smiled a little awkwardly "You look like a guy who could use a drink."

-----

Collins didn't open his eyes, but he smiled widely when Angel spoke. "Now you're talking." After a minute, he opened his eyes, took a deep breath and sat up.

After his head cleared from the movement, he looked at Angel and he couldn't keep the smile from broadening. "What've you got?"

-----

Angel smiled in return. "Lemme check." She tore her eyes from his beautiful face and went into the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator. Still working, thank God "I've got a couple of beers left. Orrr . . ." She turned to the cabinet "Yeah, I've got a few shots of vodka left. I think that's about it. Gotta preference?" She couldn't help herself; she went to stand in the doorway to look into his face as he decided.

-----

Collins could feel himself blushing and lowered his eyes. What was it about the way Angel looked at him? Maybe it was his eyes, or...or everything. Whatever it was, he liked it, even if it did have the power to make him blush like a twelve year old.

"Vodka would be great," he said around his sudden shyness.

-----

God, he's beautiful when he blushes. That shy thing is really turning me on. She stared for a few more seconds at him, realized she was staring, blinked a few times, smiled and turned back into the kitchen for the bottle of Stoli and two glasses. She brought it all into the living room, set down the glasses on the Con Ed spool she used as a coffee table and poured a shot for each of them. She smiled, picked up both glasses, sat next to him, handed him his shot and raised her own.

-----

Collins mirrored the young man's raised glass with his own. "To angels," he said, suddenly unconcerned with shyness. Angel had gone incredibly out of his way to aid him, at the very least the kindness deserved a toast. If that toast had a slight double meaning, he could live with it. Then again... "To you," he added, wanting the meaning perfectly clear. He smiled warmly and downed his shot.

-----

Now it was Angel's turn to blush. She meant to respond to his toast, but was unable to speak. And his smile . . . entirely disarming. She remembered she still had her shot in her hand and downed it quickly. Then, before her courage left, she moved quickly in and kissed his cheek, blushing deeper as she did. "I'm . . . I'm sorry. Was that weird?"

-----

Collins was pretty sure that between the two of them, the glow from their faces could light the apartment. He resisted the urge to raise his hand to the spot where Angel had kissed him and shook his head mutely in answer. It seemed he had lost all power of speech, which was fine with him as he had absolutely no idea what to say or do. He knew what he wanted to do, but was unsure if that was the right thing to do. Instead, he leaned forward and put his glass down on the makeshift table.

((I am having way too much fun with this and if I fangirl!squee out loud one more time my coworkers may kick me out. Just thought I'd share.))

-----

Angel wished madly that her face would lose its flush. She felt like a teenager, and if he didn't stop looking at her . . . She set her own glass down and stood, backing away from him with a stuttered "I . . . I'll go change. . .We're gonna be late. . .The bathroom's back there, if you want to go get cleaned up." If I didn't totally fuck this up before now, I'm certainly going to when I come back and he sees what I really look like. She looked into his eyes again, smiling shyly, some of her confidence returning, and turned to go into her room.

((I'm loving this too and my students insisted on knowing exactly what made me giggle so hard. I refused to tell them.))

-----

Collins' eyes followed him as he left the room. He hoped he was reading Angel right. He couldn't be wrong, not after that kiss. But, time would tell he supposed. He gingerly stood up and headed for the bathroom to clean up. When he saw his face in the mirror, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Between the swelling and dried blood, he couldn't imagine anyone being attracted to him, least of all someone as amazing as Angel. No time to think about it, though, he didn't want to make them more late than he already had.

He quickly cleaned his face and did the best that he could with his shirt before studying himself in the mirror again. He wasn't a proud man by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn't help wishing he looked as he usually did, it would have been an improvement over his newfound 'shabby-chic-meets-the-elephant-man' look. He grinned to himself, knowing he was probably exaggerating a bit. He couldn't help it though. Suddenly, looking his best in front of his new friend was at the top of his priority list.

Sighing to himself, he checked his face one more time and left the bathroom to wait on Angel.

-----

She closed the door to the bedroom, sighed heavily and leaned against it. Ok, Angel. Get your shit together and get dressed. She hauled herself off the door and moved to her rickety dresser. She kicked off her sneakers and pulled off her jacket, sweater, and t-shirt. Standing there naked from the waist up, Angel caught sight of herself in the mirror. She touched her flat stomach and her equally flat chest, wishing it were more . . . feminine. Whatever. Digging through her drawer full of tights and socks she found the zebra-striped ones she had planned to wear tonight. She unbuttoned and pulled off her jeans and sat down to put the tights on. Once she had them just the way she wanted them, she went to the closet and pulled out her mesh long-sleeved t-shirt and her loud floral skirt. She pulled both on, hooking the skirt around her waist. Then she put on her favorite green sweater vest, zipping it up the front. She touched the ragged green cheetah fur on the collar looking in the mirror, liking the way the fur covered her throat. She picked up her black wig and put it on carefully. On an afterthought, she tucked daisies and poinsettias into the wig, carefully pinning them into place. She started on her makeup, trying to hurry; knowing they were going to be late regardless. Hurriedly she added foundation, blush, eye shadow, eyelashes, mascara. She was an expert, she could usually do this in about five minutes. Finally, she liked the face reflected in the mirror and went to get her platform shoes. She slipped them on quickly and buckled their ankle straps. Grabbing the doorknob, she sighed nervously. Here goes nothing! She opened the door, gathered her courage, squared her shoulders, and stepped out into the living room.

-----

Collins was fiddling with his torn shirt sleeve when he heard the door open. He looked up and his heart dropped from his chest to his feet instantly. Holy shit. His breath caught in his throat and he was pretty sure his jaw was hanging open. Angel...he...she...was stunning. Breathtaking. Glorious, exquisite, dazzling, his brain was running out of words. He thought about moving from the spot he was rooted in, but his body didn't seem inclined to obey. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

He inhaled, and his breath caught again. I am a suave, sophisticated older man with a tremendous vocabulary. Watch as I shower her with flowery compliments... "Wow," he finally managed to choke out. Crap.

-----

Angel chewed her lip nervously and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. She moved to him, afraid her face betrayed how much she wanted, needed his approval. She lifted her chin, almost defiantly and looked into his eyes. If she'd seen attraction or interest there before, now she saw devotion. He'd passed the test. He liked her as herself. She felt tears beginning to well up in her eyes, but she forced them back down again. She was not about to ruin her makeup. She reached out a hand to him, waiting for him to take it. "Shall we go?"

-----

Collins took the offered hand and raised his free one to trace her cheek with his thumb. "You're beautiful," he said, determined to vocalize beyond a 'wow' at least part of the rambling that was currently playing a loop in his mind. He smiled softly and stepped back, taking the hand he was still holding and settling it in the crook of his arm. "Let's go."

-----

She was going to start crying now. No one had ever called her "beautiful" before. At least no one without an ulterior motive. The impulse passed quickly though, when a blast of cold air from outside reminded her that she'd forgotten the most important part of her outfit "Just one second," she said to Collins, gently disengaging herself from his arm. She went quickly to the coat closet, not wanting to be away from him for any longer than she had to, and grabbed her Santa coat from its hanger. She quickly hooked the front of it and buckled the zebra buckle. She looked up again to see him smiling at her.

-----

When Angel put her coat on, his smile widened. Lord, she was adorable! He couldn't imagine what he'd done to deserve their chance meeting. His brow furrowed briefly as he considered it. What kind of karma had he built up that threw both a beating and meeting Angel at him? He chuckled to himself, he'd have to think about that. Holding his hand out to her once more, he asked, "Ready?"

-----

"Finally. Yes." She replied, smiling and settling her hand back into the crook of his arm, happy to be touching him again. In her shoes, she was nearly as tall as he was. It occurred to her to kiss him again, but they were late and as much as she'd like to stay here with him, they really did need to get going.

-----

Collins headed out of the apartment toward the stairs. As much as he knew they needed to get to Mark and Roger's (they had to be worried, he knew), a not so small part of him wanted to turn around and lock himself and Angel inside of her apartment. The world could wait. He grinned to himself at the thought. Oh well, he mused, Roger and Mark's reactions to Angel should be worth the trip. He wondered if they'd think she was as wonderful as he did. He rested his free hand on hers and gave it a small squeeze as they walked, thinking how could they not?

-----

Angel walked alongside him in the chilly evening air. It was all she could do to keep herself from singing and dancing as she walked. She had been in love before, a million times, so it seemed, but never had she felt like this. Never as accepted, never as loved. She wanted to shout her excitement to the whole of New York. Instead her exuberance came out in her walk. She just couldn't help bouncing a little, clinging to his arm. She was more than a little disappointed when they got to his friends' place. She'd have gone on walking like that for hours, given the opportunity.

-----

Collins simply could not stop smiling. The way Angel held his arm, the way she was practically bouncing as they walked, everything really, was just so damned endearing. When the got to Mark and Roger's building, he stopped and turned to her. "Ready?" he asked. He knew he was always painfully shy around people he didn't know, and though he doubted his Angel had that problem, he thought he'd give her a minute if she did need it. My Angel, he backtracked, how I like the sound of that.

((sorry I'm slacking here today, they're actually making me work. The bastards.))
-----

Angel met his gorgeous brown eyes again. Her grin, which hadn't left her face since. . .well, since she'd first seen his eyes, widened. She hadn't thought that possible. "Honey, I was born ready." Somehow she was talking about more than meeting his friends. She tightened her grip on his arm and wrinkled her nose at him. "Let's go!"
((Work! What the hell is that about? I'd spit in their eye! Actually, I've been having to work today too. It's wrong, I tellya!))