Chapter 9

Los Angeles, 31 May 2004

Neville got a call a couple of days ago telling him that there was some unusual vampire activity up just outside Seattle. The information came from a Slayer he met last year but who's not been active. Well, given that she was seventy when she got her dose of Slayer power, it's not too surprising. Since I'm currently the closest active Slayer, I quickly agreed to go up and see what was happening. To my surprise, Neville decided he should come along too, and a few hours later, he and I were on a plane.

We arrived at Mary Jacobson's house to a very warm welcome. She actually apologised for bothering us, and refused to hear of us staying at a hotel. She had a bedroom organised for each of us in no time. Yesterday, she took us to the area that's been having problems, and later, when we'd seen her safely back home, Neville and I searched the area and found their nest. To be honest, dusting them was a bit of an anticlimax, but sometimes that's how it seems.

When we got back to Mary's, she was apologising that she didn't do the job herself. To be honest, it's scary. I mean, yes, she's strong, and by all accounts her arthritis is much better than it was, but she's not fast enough to go up against vamps, and she hasn't had any training.

What's even scarier is what having her powers has done to her. She's scared to get close to people. Her husband died a few years ago, and her children live on the east coast, but she's got people around she's known all her life, and she's scared she's going to hurt someone when she tries to hug them or shake their hand. She's even more scared of how some of her friends would react to her increased strength, so she hasn't told any of them. She's more alone than she's ever been, and that's because of something I did. No, I don't regret it, because the alternative – the First succeeding in filling the world with ubervamps and whatever else it had in mind? Really not a good idea. But I never guessed that people like Mary would be hurt by what we did.

The other side of all this is that Mary didn't want us to leave. I don't mean she wouldn't let us out the door or anything, it's just that she was bending over backwards to try to get us to stay a bit longer. We spent a lot of time just chatting, and it seems like it's the first time she's been able to just be herself in too long.

In the end I left her my cell phone number, telling her to call if she needs to chat. And first thing on Monday morning, I'm going to call Giles and find out what progress has been made in finding a way of relieving people of these powers. Giles wanted to find a way in case we come across someone abusing the power, but neither of us seriously saw the disadvantages the strength could be to some people.

I suppose that's part of the reason the Slayer system called teens – at least at that age you can adapt to the changes. The older you are, the harder that must get.

And, spending a couple of days with Neville has been interesting. He wanted to be there to 'back me up' when I went up against the vampires, but he didn't get in the way, so it wasn't a problem. In fact, he turned out to be good company. He's travelled widely as a Watcher, and while he's almost as British as Giles about things, he's also quite a bit younger – I'd estimate in his early thirties – and I found I was able to be quite comfortable with him. He dropped me at the apartment a little while ago, and I almost thought he was going to ask me for a date. I was half disappointed and half relieved when he didn't. Disappointed because it's always good to know that someone finds you attractive, and relieved because right now, I really don't need more complications in my life. I've got an ex who's keen to take up where we left off, another who's made it clear that I never mattered to him anyway, and another who's possibly gone for good without saying goodbye. Last thing I need is another addition to the devastation that is my love life.

It's late Sunday morning when I waken, and I'm just revelling in the fact that today's mine to do with as I please. I've already slept late, and I'm enjoying a second cup of coffee while I decide what to do next.

Naturally, when I'm glad to have nothing specific to do, I get a call. I pick up the phone to hear Angel's voice.

"Buffy, good, you're back."

"Yup," I agree. "How's things?"

"Well, ok, I suppose. Look, I've got a job – something strange happening in a warehouse about five miles from here. The owner's someone I've dealt with before, and if he says it's something supernatural, then I'm inclined to agree. Stuff's been going missing from the warehouse, but it's not the valuable stuff – he imports electrical goods from the Far East. What's going missing is the packaging – boxes, crates and bubble wrap. And food. He says his security and handling crews are complaining that someone is stealing their food."

"That sounds … wait, Angel. There's something stealing packaging and food? Are you sure this isn't just a job for the police? Or social services? Maybe it's some homeless person."

"Could be," Angel agrees. "But he's had extra security on the place, and nothing's been seen. He wants me to look into it."

"And?" I ask, not sure where this is going.

"And I was going to go tonight. I was wondering if you'd like to come. Not that I'm expecting anything heavy, it's just, well, you never know."

I'm not sure how to take this, but I decide that face value is about right. I certainly don't want Angel out after dark alone and maybe getting himself killed.

"What time?" I ask.

"Well, I thought, maybe seven? You could come here, and I'll get some dinner, and then we can go over and see what's happening."

Dinner. I spot the ulterior motive, but that's ok. I can eat dinner with an old friend without it meaning anything.

"Sure, Angel, that's fine. I'll see you at the hotel about seven."

He hangs up, and I go back to contemplating my day. Decisions. Do I take a shower now and then go shopping, or do I go shopping and then shower before I go to the hotel. I decide on the former, with the possibility of showering afterwards too if I feel inclined.

Some hours later, I make it back to the apartment where I unpack my purchases. I've spent more that I should, but it's been a while since I've been able to hit some of these stores, and I just couldn't resist. And, in honour of tonight, I've bought some new leather pants and some rather pretty t-shirts that I won't break my heart over if they end up slime-splattered.

I check the time and realise that I've only just got time to change before I have to leave, so I move into overdrive, getting myself ready for dinner and then potential Slaying.

As soon as I walk into the hotel, I know something's up. Well, Angel's never been exactly a slouch when it comes to dressing, but tonight he's … not dressed for patrol: black silk shirt and some very smart pants. I feel totally underdressed in comparison, but I decide to make the best of it.

He ushers me into the hotel dining room where there's a table set for two. There are candles and a choice of wine.

"What?" I ask, bewildered.

"It's nothing," he says quietly. "I just ordered in some things from a restaurant around the corner. The others used to like it, but it gets crowded, so it seemed better to do things this way."

I'm smelling trouble, but it's overpowered by the most amazing aroma emanating from an adjoining room. All I've had since this morning is a cup of coffee, and my stomach is making embarrassing noises. Angel sits me down, offers me wine which I refuse since I try not to drink and Slay. That's one lesson I learned from, or perhaps because of, Spike. As happens lately, thinking about him causes a spasm of sadness, but I push it aside. Angel walks towards the source of the aroma and returns a few moments later with plates, each with some soft, melty cheese covered in caramelised onions and a dark fruit sauce. He sits opposite me, and we start to eat, while Angel asks me about my trip, and fills me in on what's been happening in LA. Foremost among the news is the fact that Gunn and Illyria have left on their tour. They flew to New York this morning, and the plan is that when Charles is well enough, they'll get a car and drive back, taking any route that appeals to them at the time.

As far as his work is concerned, things seem to have been slow. When I ask, I get the distinct impression that the warehouse job he mentioned on the phone is the only one that's come in. He seems rather defensive about that when I ask, so I give up that line of conversation, and Angel goes to bring in the next course.

The main course is steak, braised in a sauce which is absolutely out of this world, and flavours I almost, but don't quite, recognise.

I give up talking then, and content myself with savouring every mouthful, while Angel looks on, an indulgent smile on his face. I don't like it, but I'm not going to let anything get in the way of this meal.

When he announces dessert, I quickly tell him that I couldn't eat anything else if I'm going to be Slaying later. He seems disappointed, and if I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was suggesting we forget about the warehouse for tonight. He quickly backtracks from that though, suggesting that it'll still be here after we've been out, so I just let it go. He takes me to his office where he offers me the choice of an impressive range of weapons. Naturally, I came already armed – nothing big, just a few stakes and a small knife - so I decline the offer. He disappears to get changed, and returns a few moments later more suitably attired.

On the way over, in order to make conversation, I ask him how he's doing.

"Ok, I suppose. It's … odd. I've got an appointment tomorrow to have a full physical – the doctor who treated me after the battle suggested it. Can't say I ever gave it any thought when I was alive before, and as a vampire, well, you're either ok or you're dust. Not much to think about."

"That's good," I comment. "You should get everything checked out – not that there's going to be a problem, but, yeah …"

"Yeah."

I try to remember what we used to talk about before, but I can't. Well, yes, we talked about the vampires and the day to day stuff. I told him about how unfair it was that I had to slay vampires and still take a bio test next morning, and he … listened. We talked about how we loved each other, how neither of us could imagine a future without the other one. It didn't seem hard then.

I'm relieved when Angel pulls the car over to the kerb and we can get out. This is Slaying, so I'm back on home turf. He's parked a block away from the warehouse, and he points out our destination. We walk slowly, and as we move, my senses are keyed to my surroundings, feeling for any hint of demon.

There is something, but it's not giving me any real information. Not that that means anything. Vampire I recognise right away. There're one or two others that give a clear signal that's different, but many other species just give the general tingle I'm feeling now.

As we get close to the entrance, I push ahead of Angel. He's about to disagree, but I glare at him, and he holds back. The main doorway is locked as it should be, but we continue round the building towards a fire escape at the side. That's also locked, so I continue my circuit of the building. I'm not at all averse to breaking in if I have to, but I'd kind of like to know how whatever-it-is is getting in.

I spot it at last – behind a bush that's growing along the wall, there's a brick lying lose. I crouch down and take a look – several bricks have been dislodged. The resulting gap is big enough for me to get in, but I'm not sure about Angel. He takes a look and nods, telling me he'll be ok. I bend down and edge through the opening. Once inside, I stand carefully, taking in the space around me. There's no immediate sign of anything out of place, but I decide not to move from here until Angel makes it through.

He does that a couple of moments later, but he's huffing a bit and rubbing dust off his jacket when he joins me, muttering that it was a tighter squeeze than he'd thought. I move forward, listening carefully. There are stacks of pallets to the ceiling, numerous places where something could hide, but I follow the tingle, moving slowly along the wall towards the back of the building.

I hear it first. It's a squeaky sound, something rubbing on something else, and I quicken my pace towards it. Angel stumbles behind me, and the noise stops, to be quickly followed by the sound of something heavy being dropped, and then silence again. Giving up on any idea of being stealthy, I run to the source of the noise, and find several electrical appliances neatly arrayed without their packaging. A DVD player, still partly cocooned in polystyrene, lies on the floor. There's no sign of whoever was responsible. I follow my instincts, winding my way through stacks of pallets, round and round the warehouse, catching a glimpse of something bluish and almost transparent ahead of me before I lose it.

Confident that it's gone, I call out for Angel, but he doesn't reply. I go back to where I left him, but he's not there, and I check a few passageways without success. What I do find is that there's a door open now that wasn't before, so I approach it, and peer outside to see Angel being surrounded by a group of vampires.

"Hey, Angel, didn't you know it's not polite to start without me?" I ask, moving towards the group while taking note of my surroundings.

"What can I say, Buffy? Sometimes, there's nothing you can do."

The words sound like Angel, but the voice doesn't. He's doing a pretty good job of sounding relaxed, but anyone who knows him would recognise the undercurrent of fear that's there.

I imagine for a second facing these vamps without my Slayer speed and strength, and I understand how he's feeling. That same thought causes me to consider how often the others – Willow, Xander and Giles – did just that, and my admiration for them goes up just a notch.

"Do you think it's possible they don't know who we are?" I ask Angel, trying to steel him for what's happening while giving me a second or two longer to plan how I play this.

"Looks like it," he replies. "But then they're young. Hardly brushed the dirt from their clothes."

The vamps bristle at that, and one of them, judging by the way the others are watching him, the leader, answers. "Do we know who you are? No. But then, you're human, so you're food, or entertainment. That's all we need to know."

"And here I thought you were our entertainment," I say, making a lunge at him.

It all explodes around me then, and I'm fighting, legs and arms aimed at the various vamps, while I'm trying to keep an eye on Angel and how he's getting on.

Perhaps because I attacked their leader, most of the group is concentrating on me, which is just as well. I'm not in any real danger, though. I'm dancing a complicated choreography that's being written as it's performed, dictated in part by the movements of my opponents. (Another lesson from Spike, and again I push the thought aside.) One by one, I manage to get a stake into their hearts, kicking or punching them out of my way between times. Soon, though, they realise that Angel's the weak spot, and three of the remaining vamps surround him, quickly overpowering him.

The leader stops moving and just watches them for a moment before speaking.

"A Slayer, are you?"

"Took you long enough to work that out."

"Don't think a lot of a Slayer who brings her boyfriend along," he teases. "Unless he's bait. Is that it?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I answer. "And he's not bait either. You, on the other hand, are dust."

I move as fast as my speed and training allow, and he's turning to dust a second later, a look of shock on his face. I turn to the others, but one of them's already got his fangs in Angel's neck, and the others are watching me warily.

"Let him go. Now," I warn.

Two of them, having just seen their leader disintegrate, step backwards, looking for a means of escape. I ignore them for now, approaching the third who's feeding. He realises too late that he's being singled out for my attention, and he's gone too, my stake delivered accurately from a distance. The others take that moment to run, and I ignore them, catching Angel as the vamp who was supporting him dusts.

I pull a hankie out of my pocket and hold it to his neck wound. Typical of neat vamp bites, it doesn't keep bleeding hard once the fangs are gone. I think Giles said something once upon a time about there being something in vampire saliva that did that – makes it easier to keep a human for a long time, drinking just a bit each time.

I'm facing him, one hand providing some pressure on his neck, and my other hand on his upper arm. It seems a familiar position in many ways, and Angel obviously feels that too because the next thing I know, his mouth is moving towards mine. I turn my head away, hoping he'll take the hint, but he doesn't, moving towards my neck and kissing me there in a way friends just don't.

I step backwards, away from him, and he looks at me in surprise, and then I see a flash of – was that anger? Irritation? But then the look is gone, and he's just looking like some poor, pale human who's had a chunk bitten out of them by a vamp.

"Let's get you to the car," I suggest, not mentioning what just happened. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I should say something, but … between our history and the closeness while I was seeing to his injury, maybe I did give out the wrong signals. I look around at the door I just came out of.

"Who unlocked the door?" I ask.

He doesn't speak, just hands me a key. I take it and lock the door before turning back towards the car.

On the way back, I fill Angel in on what I saw in the warehouse.

"I didn't recognise what it was, but it wasn't a vamp. It got away. I'd say it's not dangerous, and if your client can get his extra back door sealed up, he might be ok for a while. Meantime, I'll check out what I saw against Council records, see if I can suggest anything else."

He doesn't answer, and when we get to the car, I take a closer look at him. It doesn't take a doctor to spot that he's in shock. His face is looking clammy and he's shivering a bit.

"I'll drive," I offer, and it's a sign that he's not feeling well that he just hands me the keys.

I open the passenger door and he gets in, then I move around to the driver's door. It takes me a couple of minutes to get the seat moved far enough forward, but Angel doesn't seem to notice. He's staring out of the window, maybe at his own reflection, maybe at the blank wall beyond. I start the engine, and drive back the way we came.

"Do you want me to take you to the hospital?" I ask. I don't think he's lost that much blood, but it depends on how he feels.

"No, the hotel," he answers. "I'll top up with fluids when I get in and I'll be fine."

"Good," I agree. "Get some antiseptic on that wound too."

"Yeah. I've done this before. Don't fuss."

I ignore the irritation that's obvious, putting it down to embarrassment that he no longer has the strength to get himself out of situations like that. I remember the suggestion that we have dessert later, but I'm really not in the mood and hope he doesn't mention it.

When we get back to the hotel, I stop the car, but it's only when I point out that he's home that he seems to notice.

"Ok if I take the car?" I ask. "I'll bring it round in the morning. The Council office's only a couple of blocks away."

He nods, murmurs an affirmative, gets out of the car and walks towards the door without a backward glance. Once I'm sure he's inside, I start the engine again, and drive to my apartment.

I think Angel's got a lot more acclimatising to do than he'd thought, and for the first time I consider the possibility that continuing in his previous line of work might not be the best idea.