Disclaimer: I don't own Angel the Series
Author's Note: Welcome to Chapter 2 of the Flip Side. We've had an intense couple of ICC chapters over in season 2 – this one won't be quite as intense, and the drift won't be quite as severe as the change of 1x09's rewrite last chapter (then again, I saved Doyle's life. That's a pretty big deal, hard to top it!).
Author's Note 2: After some checking, I found no indication of what Harriet's maiden name is. And since she's not married to Doyle anymore, nor did she get married to Richard Straley, it would make sense that she's using her maiden name. So I made one up.
Author's Note 3: Thanks to Starway Man and deiticlast for beta-reading and creative consultancy services.
This Chapter is A Rewrite of Episode 1x11, "Somnambulist" from Angel.
The Iron Coin Chronicles: The Flip Side
By Alkeni
Chapter 2: Rude Awakening
Getting kidnapped recently had not been an especially fun experience for Doyle. As the Irish half-demon had said – repeatedly – to Angel in the aftermath of being knocked out, and then having his eyes put up for auction.
If it hadn't been for Harry's knowledge of demon languages, Angel knew he might not have gotten there in time, because he wouldn't have known to look for auctions. But thanks to her help, Doyle's life and eyesight had been saved. A fact that Harry was quite happy about. Getting her help on the job was becoming more frequent, and Angel was starting to wonder if it might be a good idea to start bringing her into the loop whenever Doyle had a vision, or they went after some demon. You never knew when she might know something that could help.
She's almost as useful as a Watcher. More useful in some ways, actually. Nowhere near as good with the obscure prophecies or the dead languages, sure – she only read Latin, among the dead human languages – but she also had a much, much more useful perspective on demons. Here in L.A., the line between good and evil wasn't as simple as demon and human, the way it usually was in Sunnydale. Wolfram and Hart proved that – and they'd been there, bidding on Doyle's eyes and probably the other merchandise. And many, mostly peaceful demons had been the victims in that whole mess as well.
Harry approached demons on a clan by clan basis, as subjects of study interesting in their own way, not just as threats that needed to be understood for fighting and killing them. So yes, she was actually more useful than a Watcher, for the work that he did here in L.A. Not that it was 'work' per se, not really. It was a...a calling from mysterious unnamed beings that gave Doyle visions of people in peril. It was helping the hopeless; showing people, as Doyle had once said, that there was still good in the world. Not just saving lives. Saving souls.
And maybe his in the bargain, eventually, though Angel doubted he'd ever be able to atone for everything Angelus had done. A hundred and fifty years of unspeakable evil was impossible to make up for, really.
January 19th, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
"You've been havin' dreams? Of killing people?" Doyle shrugged, "Well, I'm not exactly an expert on dreams, but I'm pretty sure they draw from your own life experiences. And you've got a lot of life experiences to draw from." Which would be why Doyle was here to begin with. Why the Powers, or whoever it was that was sending him the bloody migraines with pictures attached, had sent him to Angel in the first place.
"Maybe. But I'm not dreaming about what Angelus did, Doyle." Angel disagreed, dropping down into a chair. "I'm dreaming about killing people here, now, on the streets of L.A. Streets I recognize." Angel reached into his coat and pulled out one of the local sensationalist crime rags. Doyle recognized the issue – he'd seen it, the new 'Pope' killer everyone was talking about, marked his victims with a cross cut into their cheek.
"This is one of the people I killed in my dreams, Doyle." Angel told him softly. "Found that last night, after I took out the vampire you had a vision of. And that mark... back in the day, Angelus used to love marking his victims like that."
"Huh. Why mark them with a cross, though? You weren't exactly doing God's work back then. Still can't hold a cross." Which would be why he had one on him. Doyle trusted Angel – had to. And of course, as a half-demon, his blood wouldn't be very appetizing to a vampire. But he was also a man who, if he had a choice, did like staying alive. He'd been willing to die to save those Lister demons from the Scourge... and he'd been so driven by a desire to make up for his mistakes the last time the Scourge were in town, that he'd even been almost upset with Angel for stopping him.
But most of the time – he liked his life. More now, in some ways, dangerous work and migraines with pictures aside. Hence the cross – not just for run of the mill vamps he might run into, but also in case Angelus ever came back out to play.
"It wasn't about doing God's work. It was about mocking God." Angel corrected. "I have no memory of killing these people, but..." He dropped the newspaper. "The dreams, the mark. What if I'm doing these in my sleep? I enjoyed killing my victims in the dreams. Their fear. The taste of the blood right before they die..."
Doyle picked up the paper and opened it. Vampires slept during the day – mostly. But they also slept during that twilight time before dawn... and according to the paper... that was when the victims were dying.
Not a very good sign.
"You're not doing this yourself, but while you're sleeping... some kind of sleep walking?" Doyle asked uncertainly.
"That's what I'm afraid of. And there's only one way to be sure."
Doyle wasn't an idiot. He acted like one sometimes, but he could follow Angel's logic through. "Watch you through the night? And if you are... doing this, Angel?" Even putting on his full half-demon appearance wouldn't give him the strength to take on a truly determined Angelus.
"I have chains." Angel replied simply.
Doyle blinked. He has chains? And that would be... why? What, did he and his Slayer ex used to play Mistress of Pain all night or something? Doyle frowned as that thought came to mind, and shoved it away - he didn't want to think on that, so he didn't. He just listened as his undead friend added, "I made sure they were strong enough that I wouldn't be able to break them." Yup, that sounded like the brooding Angel he knew. Just as Doyle had been told how to contact the Slayer named Faith, in Sunnydale, if Angelus came back. Angel took precautions. Smart precautions at that.
"I hate to ask, buddy, but do you want me to call the Slayer to come to town? Either one?" Doyle's tone was careful.
Angel shook his head. "If it is me... the best thing to do might be to call their Watchers. I have Giles' number written somewhere. One of them might be able to figure out how to stop it, if there is a way to. If there isn't a way to stop it..." Angel nodded. "Then..."
"Aye, and isn't that a lovely thought." Doyle commented darkly. I need a drink. Kinda odd how he'd been avoiding alcohol more and more recently. It wasn't that he didn't drink anymore – not drinking at all wasn't an especially appealing option – but nowadays, he didn't drink as much as he did before he and Angel had started with whole Dynamic Duo thing. It hadn't been a conscious choice, really. He'd just...
He just hadn't wanted to.
Doyle wasn't much for self-reflection. He left that to Angel. But he did know that since he'd started with Angel, he'd been more focused. The visions were a pain, and he'd really rather not have them, but they did give him a – purpose. And he was making up for the mistake that still haunted him. Not to mention his other, many, poor decisions. And...
Try as he might to ignore it... well, it had been about seeing Harry again too.
Seeing her again had reminded Doyle of the happiness he'd had with her, before things had gone totally downhill. And how much he'd changed since then. It wasn't that he wanted to start things back up with Harry – he'd let her go because it was time to do just that, even though her would-be marriage to that Straley character hadn't worked out. But he'd once had a stable and happy life. He wasn't going to be able to have it all back, but maybe he could have some of it again eventually.
But with this latest revelation, and what Angel was asking of him? I'm going to need a drink. And, Doyle thought, place a call to Harry. To let her know what was happening, just in case.
"I can't say it's very appealing, true." Angel agreed with Doyle's previous statement. "But it is what it is, so..."
Doyle found himself nodding. "If I'm going to be keepin' an eye on you all night, then I'm going to need coffee. You're starting to run low. And I'm going to need a drink."
Angel, to Doyle's great lack of surprise, showed no reaction to that. One of the things he'd liked about the vampire from the start. They were friends, now, but the other man had never once shown any interest in trying to talk Doyle out of drinking liquor, or trying to stage some sort of intervention or whatever. Or even show much in the way of disapproval. Hadn't even shown much disapproval about Doyle's... debt issues.
Oh, sure, Angel had asked him why he lived like that, but hadn't done anything more than that. Hasn't done much to help me either. But it had worked out. As he'd told Angel – his debts usually worked in favors. He helped someone, that went up and down the line, and some of the money he owed someone went away. He'd just needed more time away from the bloody debt collectors.
"Just make sure you're back before sundown. That's the time to...chain me up." Angel stumbled a little over the last few words.
"I'll be back with time to spare." Doyle agreed.
January 20th, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
Harriet Abrams hadn't actually gotten that much sleep last night.
Usually, she slept pretty well, despite how she studied demons for a living. While she preferred to study and interact with the peaceful clans, she also had to learn about a lot of... disturbing things. But she didn't really have to face them. She read about them and heard about them.
But she hadn't slept well last night because of the revelation that Francis had given her. That Angel was killing people in his sleep. Or at least, he might be. He'd told her as a 'just in case', and Harry appreciated that. Despite herself, she couldn't help but be interested in what Angel did (and what he was). It was an opportunity to learn about demons she rarely had cause to study – or chance – and of course, from a scholarly perspective, it was a perfect opportunity to learn about vampires. And for that matter, a chance to learn about 'souls' – not that Harry really believed in souls, in the strictest sense of the word.
She'd wanted to start bombarding Angel with questions, but she had been fairly quick to realize that no, that was probably not a good idea. So she was content with observation. Which was easier to do when Angel and Francis brought her into the loop on the things they did. To protect the innocent and fight evil demons and all that.
But the revelation that Angel might be killing people in his sleep... well, that wasn't really something she liked to hear. Especially not when Francis had added that he'd been keeping an eye on the sleeping Angel, to make sure nothing happened. Chained up vampire or not, Harry couldn't help but be worried about her ex-husband's safety.
And of course, if Angel really was killing people in his sleep... well, she'd done her research into Angelus's past. He'd gotten up to some pretty sick stuff, and the new 'Pope' killer that Angel was afraid he might actually be...
But, as it turned out... that wasn't actually the case. Harry was happy – well, no, 'happy' definitely wasn't the right word to use – to have learned there'd been news reports of a dead body with the Pope killer tells being found in an alley. Because it meant it wasn't Angel doing the killing, if nothing else.
"There's good news... well, as good a news as this can be." Harry said, handing Francis the newspaper. "There's been another death. And I'm guessing Angel didn't get out."
Francis shook his head. "He didn't." She watched him look at the newspaper, the front page story. Another Pope killing. He frowned, "Good news, but not, you're right." Francis let out a sigh. "Well, at least we know that Angel didn't do it." He started to reach for one of the manacles, to undo it.
Harry couldn't help but take a step back, startled when Angel suddenly spoke: "Yes I did." Both from the words, and the fact that she'd thought he was still sleeping.
"I was here the entire night, buddy boy, and I was awake the whole bloody time. You didn't get out and kill anyone!" Francis exclaimed. Still, Angel's words were enough to stop her ex-husband from unchaining Angel.
"No, you don't understand. The vampire that's doing this? It's one that I sired, one I taught, back in the 1700s." Angel clarified. "Penn."
The name didn't mean anything to Harry, but then, she didn't know everything there was to know about Angel. She'd heard about the Whirlwind, read about some of the exploits Angelus had gotten up to with Darla, Drusilla and William the Bloody. But she didn't know that name.
"Well, now I'm confused. If he's the one doing this, then why are you having the dreams?" Francis asked, undoing one of the manacles. "Does he know you're here? Is he trying to draw you out?"
Angel shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I have a connection with those I sire. All the dreams mean is that he's close."
"A connection? Like, a real psychic connection between two vampires based on the siring bond?" Harry wished she could write that down right now, but she didn't have anything to write it with or on. She'd just have to remember it for later, when she was in that janitor's closet that masqueraded as her office in an unused basement within the UCLA campus.
Okay, so it's not quite that small. But it's hardly a room with a view either! It wasn't like there was a lot of demand for ethnodemonology, though, so she had to be satisfied with what she could work with. She watched as Francis undid the last manacle, and Angel sat up, rubbing his wrists just a little.
"I've never heard of anything like that."
Angel shrugged. "It's not really common knowledge. Most vampires don't have it, and it's not always very strong. But thing is, I mentored Penn for years before he went off on his own; I was looking for a worthy protégé at the time. Darla didn't have it with me, but Drusilla did." Angel shrugged again. "Penn's first victims, after I sired him, were his family. And these victims... they look almost exactly like his family." His voice got softer. "I don't know how I didn't see it before, from the paper, but... he's reliving it. Penn's killing them again, and marking them the same way I showed him how to."
"You're going to kill him, then." Francis wasn't asking a question.
"Well, I can't just let him keep doing what he's doing." Angel confirmed. "It's my fault that he's out there, killing people." To Harry's ears, that didn't make much sense. She could understand why Angel would feel responsibility and guilt for what Angelus did – and he might even be responsible for it, in a very real sense. But Angel wasn't the one killing these people. It was this 'Penn' character.
"You'll want to make sure you find him before the police do, then. This 'Pope' killer is making the news. They're going to want him off the streets as soon as possible. And they have no idea what they're up against." Actually, Harry suspected that at least a few LAPD cops knew something of the truth about the supernatural, but probably not that much, and even more importantly, they weren't telling other cops. That was a one-way ticket to a mental asylum, or at least a sure-fire way to get canned from the job. "Does your connection make it possible to track him?"
Angel shook his head. "It's not that useful, or that specific." The vampire blinked as a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind. "The police. Kate."
Who? "Kate?" Harry did a double take.
"Detective Kate Lockley." Francis explained. "We've ended up working with her a bit recently. She seems to have a knack for getting involved in a lotta cases that end up being connected to the supernatural. But she doesn't know about all this, or what Angel is." He turned to look at Angel. "And you can't just go in there and tell her, boyo. You can't just tell her that the killer is a vampire almost as old as you are, and you know it because you saw it happen in a dream. I don't care if she's got a thing for you; she'll throw you in lockup straightaway. Which usually has windows facing east. Or an asylum, which won't be much better."
This cop has a thing for Angel? Well, Harry supposed she could understand that, somewhat. Angel was handsome, certainly, and she knew that some women went for the brooding, mysterious guy mystique that Angel put out. Personally, Harry found the whole thing unappealing – Francis' constant brooding and bitchiness after finding out what he was had been why they'd broken up in the first place.
"She doesn't have a thing for me, Doyle!" Angel insisted. "She's a friend, an ally. Kate trusts me – I think. I should be able to get her enough information that the police can track him, make it harder for him. I know exactly what Penn looks like. I can give her a sketch –"
"Denial? She has a thing for you, Angel. What with your looks and that brooding, mysterious Dark Avenger thing you've got going for you, trust me; the lass is feeling something for you." Francis disagreed. "Who wouldn't? But that's not the point. As long as you don't tell Police Lady what she doesn't need to know, it should work out –"
"Seriously? You're planning to send her after this Penn vampire without knowing what she's going up against? What, are you going to tell her to stay back, because he's dangerous? You really think that's going to work?" Harry didn't know anything about this 'Kate' person, but still – if she was a cop, and one that Angel considered a friend, she wasn't likely to be someone who just ran and hid at the first sign of trouble. Or someone who would hang back if things got rough.
And just the idea of keeping her out of the loop – that bothered Harry on a pretty fundamental level. If there was one thing she'd always hated, it was being kept in the dark 'for her own good'. It was things being kept from her. Yes, she hadn't been remotely in favor of the idea of Richard eating Francis' brains, but what she'd really been very bothered by was the fact that he'd kept it secret, and had planned to just never mention it. And this –
She could understand Angel not telling this female cop he was a vampire. But if the police were chasing after this guy, this undead serial killer who had made headline news, then things were about to clash in a big way. And Angel should tell this plain-clothes detective what she needed to know.
Angel and Francis said nothing for a moment, "Probably not." They then said in near unison.
"You've got a point, Harry, but – how is Tall, Pale and Handsome here going to convince her to listen to him? She isn't exactly going to just stand there and believe 'vampire' without proof." Francis added. "This isn't exactly information that goes out onto the public airwaves – you can't just tell people and expect 'em to believe it!"
"One cop isn't 'people'," Harry disagreed, "and Angel's got proof. He is proof." She turned slightly and said to him, "If it's what you have to do, then show her your vampire face. This Detective Lockley person needs to know exactly what she's going to go up against, if you want her to help flush this Penn vampire out for you. Anything else is just...using her as bait, or something!"
January 20th, 2000
Kate Lockley's Desk, LAPD 12th Street Station House, Los Angeles
Detective Lockley picked up her phone on instinct when it rang, barely even registering the act. "Lockley," she answered automatically.
"Kate." Angel's deep male voice was easy to recognize.
The blonde instantly knew this wasn't a social call. Angel didn't do social – which would be the only reason a man like him was still single, of course. "What can I do for you?" Despite her initial suspicion of the man, Angel was one of the good guys. Even if he still didn't have much in the way of a real existence to show for himself. If he needed a favor, she was willing to listen, at least.
"Are you involved in the investigation into the killer the papers are calling 'the Pope'?" Angel asked over the phone line.
Kate felt her eyes narrow at little at that. "I'm leading it. But it's an ongoing investigation, so I can't tell you anything." Not that there was much to tell, anyway. The killer was meticulous, and left no useful evidence. And it wasn't possible to build a victim profile, either. They had absolutely nothing in common, apart from being dead and the cross that sick bastard carved into their cheeks. Thinks he's doing God's work. Kate was a believer, yes, but a very lapsed one, and sometimes she doubted. But she didn't doubt that whatever this guy thought, there was a place in Hell reserved for him, and she looked forward to expediting his trip downstairs by catching him and presenting for him for trial. The D.A. was already planning on pressing for the Death Penalty.
If I could only catch him. Still, why would Angel want information on this particular killer?
"No, Kate, I don't need information. I have information. On the killer."
Kate stiffened, immediately sitting up straight in her chair. She had no reason to doubt him. Angel wouldn't lie about that – really, he hadn't lied to her at all, apart from saying that he was a veterinarian back in that damn club, but that had been because he was trying to find a killer. Since then – truth.
"I'm all ears, Angel. Talk to me!"
"It's, it's not exactly something I can tell you over the phone. It's a little more... complicated than that." Angel said with hesitation. Kate's instincts screamed to not trust that. But then, Kate's instincts screamed for her to not trust anyone ever, just about.
"You're not one to play games, Angel." Kate's tone was terse, but she kept her voice low. Given that Angel didn't even have the official paperwork to be considered a PI, working with him was something of a grey-area for her, and she didn't need to get any shit from her fellow detectives about that. Or from the Captain. He hadn't really claimed to be a PI, either; just an 'investigator', and as he'd said, it was 'more or less'.
That sort of thing usually sets off your alarm bells, Kate. And it had here, too; even though part of her had insisted on believing he was innocent even from the start, rationalizing things away initially.
And as it turns out, he is one of the good guys. He didn't kill those people, and he's helped me out since.
"I'm not playing games here." Angel assured her. "It's just a little hard to believe, and I... I can't show you the proof over the phone."
Kate considered. She didn't think Angel was lying, so at the very least he thought the information he had needed to be given in person. And it wasn't like she was getting any leads just sitting here... so it made the most sense to go and find out what it was that Angel had to tell her.
"Alright. I'll meet you –"
"Upper level of my apartment." Angel told her. "Please hurry."
January 20th, 2000
Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles
This is a bad idea.
Well, it probably was, anyway. But Harry had had a point, unfortunately. Kate was the sort of woman to go charging in, regardless of how dangerous it was. Of course, Doyle was right too – there were risks in telling her. If he told her Penn was a vampire, the best way to prove that vampires existed was to show her what he was. Which could lead to problems. Kate was a cop. If he told her he was a vampire, and that vampires were evil, soulless killing machines bent on murder for their own enjoyment... even if he convinced her he himself wasn't evil, Angelus' crimes were going to come up sooner or later.
And there was always the real risk, when someone with enough strength of will found out about the supernatural. The risk that she'd take it upon herself to go after vampires on her own. He had seen it too often, as Angelus and as Angel. Someone with a bit of knowledge about vampires, and a determination to get rid of them... but without enough knowledge, without enough caution – which he sometimes wondered if Kate lacked...
He'd just have to make sure he told her everything after this was done, assuming he got the chance. And hope that she didn't start taking up demon and vampire hunting in her spare time to the point where it got her killed.
And hope that she believes me when the evidence stares her in the face.
Telling her might not be the best of ideas – but if he didn't tell her, and she found out what Penn was, what he was, and that he hadn't told her... that could ruin their working relationship. Angel didn't like that idea. Having a friend on the force made things easier, in terms of the mission. Kate was a friend and an ally, and as he'd said, she trusted him. He hoped.
He heard and smelled Kate approaching the door long before she actually opened it and walked inside. Harry and Doyle were down on the lower level. Angel didn't need any interruptions, or them chipping in with comments and observations. Not right now, anyway.
"Angel." She closed the door behind her.
"Kate."
"Are you okay?" She asked carefully, looking him over. "I mean, not that the brooding man of mystery thing doesn't work for you. It does. A lot." She shook her head slightly, a very small smile Angel suspected was unconscious on her face. "You said you knew something about my case?"
"I do." Suddenly, Angel found himself wondering if Doyle was right in his suspicions that Kate had a 'thing' for him. But if so, it wasn't particularly important. It wasn't like he was unused to getting interest from the opposite gender, however much he usually didn't like said attention. He reached into his coat and pulled out the sketch he'd made of Penn. Like all his sketches, it was exactly like the subject of the drawing, exactly like the undead killer he'd known two centuries ago – perfect memory had its benefits, even if it also had many, many downsides. "Your case – have you made any progress? Any leads?" He knew what the answer would have to be, but...
He was stalling. He knew it.
"No. The investigation's going nowhere. Some of your more inconsiderate serial killers often fail to leave us any clues." Even Kate seemed to realize her attempt at humor was falling flat, judging by the slight frown on her face, and the furrow in her brow.
"Kate, do you trust me?" Angel could only hope the answer was yes, or this might be a very short conversation.
"You know I do." Kate replied simply, and he heard no waver in her voice. Her expression – as far as he could tell, she was being honest. If Angel still breathed, he'd have let out a sigh of relief.
"Then trust me when I tell you that this is your killer." He handed her the folded up paper, and Kate opened it, looking at it, then back up at him, brow furrowed even more in confusion.
"Angel, how is it you have this?" Kate's tone was confused, but entirely professional now. "How could you possibly know-?"
Moment of truth. Angel suspected if he insisted hard enough, and didn't answer the questions with real answers, he could still get her to take him seriously. But...
Harry has a point. So does Doyle. There was only one way to find out who was more right. And... given Kate's habit of ending up in the middle of cases that intersected with the supernatural... she deserved to know, before she got herself killed.
"I know he did it, because I've seen his handiwork before." Angel said, more or less truthfully. "I know he did it because I saw him do it before – two hundred years ago, in Ireland."
Oh, I really hope Kate will be able to accept this. Of course, she had already been able to help him more than once. She could help more once she knew. If she was still willing to work with him, anyway.
"Angel, what the hell are you talking about?" Kate demanded, though she hadn't raised her voice. "You're talking nonsense."
"No I'm not. Your killer is a man called Penn. Except he's not a man, he's a vampire." Angel needed to give her proof. He was about to go the direct route, and show her his other face, his game face, when he saw the small silver cross on a chain around her neck. That would do for a start. It would hurt, but it would also make his point. Hopefully.
Moving quicker than the human eye could follow, Angel reached out and grabbed the cross, holding it in a fist, gritting his teeth against the pain as the holy icon burned into his flesh, the sound and smell of sizzling flesh accompanied by a bit of smoke rising up from his closed fist. After a few seconds, Angel stepped back and opened his hand, showing her the cross-shaped burn that was going to smart for a day or two.
"Penn is a vampire. So am I. Hence how I know, how I was around to see him do this two hundred years ago."
Kate didn't believe him, he could tell even before she opened her mouth. "God, Angel, I never took you for a crazy –"
"There's a detail missing from the police reports in the papers. Two small puncture wounds on the neck." Angel interrupted. "And the victims – every single one of them has been drained of their blood." He saw the flash of recognition in her eyes. "How am I doing so far?"
"How can you- you think knowing that makes me believe you? You're coming to me, telling me something completely insane and knowing things you could only know if –"
Angel growled in frustration – even though he had known it might come to this – and donned his vampiric face, his eyes yellow, fangs extended. There was no mistaking it for human, and it had happened instantaneously. On instinct, Kate's hand flew to her service weapon and she drew it, pointing it at him.
"Go ahead and shoot. It won't accomplish much. Your bullets, all they're going to do is hurt me. You shoot the guy killing these people, he's just going to get up afterwards and tear your throat out." Not that Angel especially wanted to getshot. It would hurt like hell, and it would ruin his clothes. Neither were things he especially looked forward to. "Penn is a vampire, and that weapon your holding is going to be useless against him. It's going to take a wooden stake in the heart, direct sunlight, decapitation or fire to kill him."
"You're telling me children's stories, Angel." Kate replied, but he could hear the slight shake in her voice. Her disbelief was cracking. Kinda hard not to when you were looking a demon in the eye.
Angel shook his head as he returned to his human guise. "I just gave you proof that this world contains vampires in it! What more do you need to believe me? That cross around your neck can't burn normal people, you know that. But it can me. Because I'm not human, and I just showed you that. The world is a hell of a lot scarier than you think, and if you're not prepared to handle it? Then you'd better back off of this case and hand it over to someone in the know, or you're going to end up dead." Angel wished he'd had some kind of metal bar or something handy to help make his case. "There's a reason you don't ever see me in direct sunlight, Kate."
"You expect me to believe that vampires are real, that you're a vampire. That's just –" Kate shook her head, but he could hear the shaken resolve in her voice.
"It's the truth. So you can either believe me or you can start pretending it's not real, like most people do." Angel replied. He had to get her to believe. "Your killer is a vampire, Kate, and he's recreating the way he killed his family, two hundred years ago. His next victim will be a white male, adolescent. He'll take him off the streets in a low rent neighborhood. Probably near a bar or liquor store, and he'll kill him just like he did the others. Drain them of their blood and mark them with the cross. It's not about doing God's work, whatever the papers say. Penn is mocking God, and if you don't listen to me on how to go about finding him, he's going to kill his next victim. And if you're gonna chase him down and you're not prepared to deal with reality," the vampire adopted his demonic face again, "He's going to kill you too." Angel moved like a blur past her, grabbing at the door handle. Before he could rip the door off its hinges, to prove his final point, Kate fired once, right into his shoulder. The force of the bullet's impact sent him reeling back a few steps.
I made her jumpy. Too jumpy. Not that he was having much in the way of coherent thoughts for the few seconds after getting a chunk of lead embedded into his shoulder.
Angel dropped back to his human face. "Ouch." He said, gritting his teeth a little against the pain, but hoping he'd made a point.
Kate saw him, saw the lack of blood erupting from the gunshot wound. "You're not bleeding. You don't bleed –"
"No, I do. Just a lot slower than you. We don't have the same circulation, after all." Angel said, grimacing from the pain. "Have I made my point yet?"
Kate shook her head and said, "This is insane," but she seemed to be trying to convince herself of that more than anything else.
Angel shook his head in turn. "No. This is the real world." God damnit that hurts. He hadn't been shot by a pistol in years, and he'd forgotten just how much it smarted to have a bullet lodged against one of your bones.
Kate took a small, half-staggered step back, away from him. "Why did you tell me? Why are you – why tell me?"
"Because you'd have found out, or gotten yourself killed going after this guy. And because I need your help to find Penn. He's got a whole city to select his target from, a whole city to hide in. I can't be everywhere, and I can't end him until I know where he is, and I'd rather not see him kill you if you go up against him unprepared." And I need to make sure I don't have any more kills he makes on my conscience. He already had, in so many ways, all the deaths at the hands of Drusilla and Spike, on his head as much as theirs. Everyone Penn had already killed. He had to stop that soulless killer, before more innocent people died. Saving lives. That was the point.
"It's not a happy truth, Kate." Angel said softly. "But you're a cop. You're used to unhappy truth."
"Yeah, but I... I can't just let you kill him. I'm a cop, not an accomplice to murder." Kate said, obviously going on basic instinct. Automatic reflex.
Angel would have sighed if he'd been human. "Kate, listen to me. You can't arrest a vampire and put him on trial for murder. Even if you could keep Penn behind bars, which you almost certainly couldn't, the second the sunlight hit his cell window? He'd be gone, reduced to dust and ashes. You need to focus on the fact that Penn is killing innocent people – people it's your responsibility to protect. The only way that's going to end is when he's dust. Human laws apply to humans."
Angel shook his head. "They don't apply to vampires – at all."
January 20th, 2000
Warehouse, Los Angeles
Scaling the pipe to the roof of the warehouse the police had chased Penn into had been easy. Trying to figure out what room Penn was in was harder – or it had been until Angel heard Kate bark out an order, presumably to Penn:
"Don't move! Do not move! I will fire!"
God damnit, Kate!
He'd thought he'd convinced her. But then again instincts were hard to overcome, especially this early entering into the real world; and it wasn't easy to accept the abilities and limitations of the undead, even when they were staring you right in the face.
Angel tried to locate the sound of her gun firing, where to stand on the roof to be over it, and he was pretty sure he had it. She really didn't listen if she's using a gun. Damnit! Angel crouched down and punched into the roof, but it was sturdier than he expected, taking several hits before he could fall through it.
As luck would have it, Angel landed between Penn and Kate – she was prone on the ground, a stake lying next to her hand – and Penn was approaching her. Huh, maybe she did listen a little. Penn must have shoved her across the room. But he didn't have much of a chance to examine Kate – she seemed alright, even though he had to focus on...
Penn approached him, then let out a laugh, "Angelus? That really you?" He laughed again. "Angelus!" Angel endured the vampire clapping him on the arm. Unfortunately, that meant there was no easy angle to get at Penn's heart. By the time he deployed a stake from the devices on his wrists, Penn would have seen it and moved.
Wait, he didn't hear about my soul? He's been out of the loop, then. Maybe he could use this.
"My God, it's been a lifetime!" And then some. There was still an amused and happy chuckle in Penn's voice. His offspring was pleased to see him.
"At least." Angel replied tonelessly.
Penn shook his head. "Seeing you after all this time. We were to meet in Italy, remember? You, and Darla as well."
Darla never liked you, Penn.
Then again, Darla had never really liked anyone Angelus had turned, not even Drusilla. It was really Darla that had been why he didn't meet with Penn back then, but he wasn't going to get into that now. The Kalderash cursing him had gotten in the way of that meeting too, of course, but...
"I remember." He really didn't like having his past aired out. Sooner or later, he'd have had to tell Kate about Angelus, but this wasn't supposed to be the time.
"Well, I waited. Hell, I waited until past the end of the 19th century. What happened?" Penn didn't seem upset or bothered, just wondering and confused.
"Got held up in Romania." Angel replied grimly. He took a step back.
"Romania?" Penn paused, again looking confused. "What's in Romania?"
"Gypsies." Angel replied flatly. Penn nodded and looked past him, gesturing to Kate, who was talking into her radio.
"Request assistance. Full tactical unit, second floor, southwest corner..."
"Join me for a drink, Angelus?" He started to move towards the female detective, not waiting for an answer. Angel grabbed onto his shoulder with one arm and deployed a stake into the other.
"That's not why I'm here." Angel told him coldly.
"Request assistance. Suspect sighted!" Kate said into her radio again, backing away in a half-seated position.
Penn narrowed his eyes. "Yea... so why are you here?"
Angel brought his stake up towards Penn's heart. "To kill you." He snarled and donned his vampire face as Penn jumped back, evading the killing blow. Damnit. He's gotten a lot faster! Angel lunged at Penn again, tackling him to the ground as the slid across the floor towards the far wall. Penn punched at Angel's wrist, sending his stake clattering across the floor.
Pain exploded in Angel's head as Penn's fist connected with his chin and he fell back onto the floor again. Still, he was back on his feet quickly – and then he got sent back on the ground again by a kick that sent him sprawling. Son of a bitch. I may have taught the boy the tricks of the trade a little too well!
Trading more punches with the soulless killer, Angel managed to flip positions, getting Penn on his back. Standing over him, he punched the vampire in the face, once- twice-
Then Penn grabbed his arm and flipped them both over. Holding the other vampire at bay, Angel heard the sound of Kate starting to stand up. Angel grabbed onto Penn's shoulder with one hand and started to punch Penn in the face, keeping his childe's back to Kate and his attention on himself. He didn't see Kate – but after a few moments, he heard Penn cry out in pain as the stake slammed into his back – still, Angel could see that she'd missed the heart.
Penn jumped to his feet, snarling, then turned around and lunged at the weapon-less detective. Kate made a decent showing of herself, her police training serving her well – but not well enough. Angel was on his feet and grabbing Penn's back, pulling him away from Kate just before he could level a punch that would send her reeling (or possibly even kill her).
"Go! Kate, get out of here!" Angel barked at her, though he was afraid she wouldn't take his advice. He couldn't watch her to see if she would obey orders, because Penn was on him again.
"You know its name? Angelus, what's happened to you?" Penn pulled the stake out of his body, tossing it aside.
"People change, Penn." Angel said calmly.
"We're not people!" Penn shouted furiously. Snarling, he lunged forward again; but before Angel could fend him off, the younger vampire had jumped up through the hole he'd made in the roof coming in.
Angel looked over at Kate; the detective slumped a little, her back to one of the support pillars. She was breathing heavily. He heard crackling over her discarded radio, lying some distance away on the floor, then a loud male voice coming through:
"Lockley. Lockley, where are you?!"
January 20th, 2000
Warehouse, Los Angeles
Kate had known what was coming, thanks to Angel telling her the truth; but even so, she simply wasn't prepared for what she'd seen. She knew that now. She hadn't been prepared for the speed and strength that the other vampire, Penn, had shown. The ferocity of his fight with Angel had been... inhumanly brutal.
That... vampire... he knew Angel. Called him... Angelus. Angel had said he'd seen Penn do this before. So it would make sense they'd know each other. But –
But it was more than that. The vampire – Penn – had initially reacted like a friend. He'd invited Angel to 'share a drink'...
She'd missed his heart. She'd have to do better next time. Against Penn or any other – God, now that she knew vampires existed... how many other crimes out there might be because of them? Missing persons – plus there were bodies that were found with no blood in them from time to time, most of the department knew but didn't talk about it...
Kate couldn't just turn a blind eye to it anymore. But she didn't have enough information.
Kate finished telling one of the officers what had happened. Well, lying to said officer about what had happened. The lies came too easily to her lips, but her choices weren't many. She'd made up her fabricated story, and she'd have to stick with it. For better or worse.
The officer nodded and rejoined the others combing the warehouse for evidence.
"They're not going to find much, if anything." Angel said, approaching her.
"You knew him. Well. He greeted you like a friend." Kate told him, after turning to face her... acquaintance, not bothering to hide the accusation in her voice.
Angel nodded after a moment. "Yea, I knew him. I told you I did. Knowing him is how I knew he was doing this."
"He invited you to 'share a drink' – of my blood. That's not just knowing. How does that work? How do you know him, exactly? And why did he call you Angelus?"
Kate watched Angel's face go completely blank for a moment at the mention of the name Penn had referred to him by. "That was the name I used to go by, when we last interacted."
Kate could immediately tell two things – one, Angel wasn't going to tell her more on that right now, and two, there was something there she needed to know.
And she couldn't just interrogate Angel like she would someone else. Can't put him in an interrogation room anyway, and –
"What makes you not like him, exactly?" Kate asked, gesturing to the route Penn had escaped through. "He's feeding off the people he kills – what, do you feed off of willing donors or something?" Huh – that might be what Angel kept that alcoholic friend of his around for; Doyle, or whatever his name was. Or maybe the man could just use his looks and that whole brooding mysterious thing he had going for him to his advantage.
"I don't drink human blood." Angel told her in earnest. "Vampires can subsist on animal blood, if necessary. Sure, very few ever choose to – you wouldn't want to get by on a diet of stale water and dry crackers if you didn't have to, would you? It's more or less the same thing for the undead."
"I would if eating anything else meant killing people." Kate replied coldly.
"Which is why I do it." Angel replied. "But then, I'm not like other vampires."
"Apparently." If he was keeping something from her, then she'd have to find it out – and she wasn't going to be asking him answers to questions she could find elsewhere. If vampires existed, that information would be out there. There would be people who knew. Resources. "You should make yourself scarce. I've falsified enough evidence already." Not that not falsifying the evidence could have worked. At the very least, she'd have been put on administrative leave. She didn't watch to see if he took her advice, turning to leave the warehouse.
January 21st, 2000
Kate's Apartment, Los Angeles
Goading Penn into trying something 'new' hadn't really been part of the plan, but that's what had happened anyway. And unless they could figure out just where it was Penn was hiding out, where he might be planning his 'worst possible thing you can imagine', then their chances of stopping it in a city this big? Very, very slim.
Which meant he needed Kate's help again, even more. Angel knew he had to warn her, too. Penn had gotten interested in who exactly his female companion in that warehouse had been, which meant Kate was a possible target. Angel hadn't given Penn what he wanted, but that didn't mean the undead villain might not try to find out her name another way.
And I didn't tell her about the invite thing. Hadn't really come up. Then again, he felt sure Kate wasn't going to invite Penn into her apartment, since she knew what he looked like. But it was something she needed to know anyway.
Angel's knock was answered by Kate opening the door. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was dressed in casual clothing, a loose hoodie over her shirt.
"Hi." He said as the door opened. "Can I come in?"
There was only a momentary pause. "Oh, that's right. You have to be invited in." Kate let out a loud exhalation.
"You've been doing your homework." Angel observed. He shouldn't have been surprised. Kate was too thorough and methodical to not do her own research. He wondered what resources she'd used – hopefully what he'd told her and what she'd seen had been enough for her to direct her research down the most helpful ends.
"Wanna quiz me?" Kate demanded, the snark in her tone not just sarcastic but angry. "I'm just full of fun facts. For instance, I learned that your friend's been in L.A. before."
Penn isn't my friend.
Even when he'd been Angelus, Penn hadn't been his 'friend'. Angelus honestly hadn't done friends. Then again, that wasn't pertinent; Kate's statement was. How many times has Penn repeated this in L.A.?
"At least twice." Kate continued, as if reading his mind. "Once in 1929, and again in 1963." Kate cocked her head to the side a little, bringing one finger to rest on her left temple. "Oh, and there was something in Boston in 1908. Pretty sure he was there too."
She knows. There had to be a reason Kate was suddenly angry at him. She'd heard the name Angelus, and she'd been doing her research. His reputation had preceded him – still did, though he rarely tried to use it.
Instinctively, Angel checked her for a stake. He didn't see one on her, but –
"That's not too surprising. Apparently, he's been pulling the same stunt since the 1700s, back in Ireland." Angel nodded. "But now he's planning something new –"
Whether Kate knew about Angelus or not, Angel knew he needed her help. And she needed his help. She wasn't going to be able to take on a vampire as old as Penn on her own. Not this soon. For a human to take on a vampire like Penn, it took experience, preparation and numbers. Holtz would never have been able to become as much of a pain in Angelus and Darla's asses, after all, if it hadn't been for the militia that backed him up.
"Ireland, yeah." Kate interrupted, her tone growing flatter, all sarcasm leaving it. "Home of another vampire I found out about. Angelus – the so-called Scourge of Europe. A particularly brutal bastard, by all accounts. Creative, too. That's what he called you – Angelus. It's all there, if you look in the right places. The demon with a face of an angel." She put a hand on her hip. "So no, you can't come in."
I'm not Angelus. But how was he going to explain all that to Kate? She'd clearly made up her mind – getting Buffy to listen, all those years ago, had been hard enough. And Kate wasn't Buffy. She had the suspicious, judgmental mindset which being a law enforcement officer bred, rather than a teenage girl with little experience in controlling her own hormones. Angel had seen it enough times in his life.
"I can't make up for the past, Kate, I know that –" He started, looking away from her for a moment, hoping he could convince her enough that she'd listen to him about whatever it was Penn was planning. The rest could wait until after Penn was dust.
"No, you can't. In fact, unless I miss my guess... what's happening now? It's basically your fault. 'Cause you're the one who made him. Turned him. That's the correct term, right?" There was nothing but an undercurrent of cold fury in her tone now.
"Yes. All true. I started this. Let me help end it. Please." He looked her in the eye.
"Please." She said, her voice barely above a whisper, before returning to a normal volume. "Now there's a word I imagine you've heard a lot of in your time." She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Please. No. Don't," Kate shook her head. "I don't need your help anymore. On account of I know what to do now. When I find him, I'll fill that asshole full of lead – and then drive a stake into the son of a bitch's heart, once he's been completely incapacitated. And when that happens, I suggest you don't be there, or I might succumb to the temptation to do the same to you." Before he could respond, Kate stepped back, slamming the door in his face.
Damn. This wasn't good.
But he couldn't blame Kate for reacting like that, after learning about what he'd done. What he'd been.
January 22nd, 2000
L.A. Sewers beneath the 12th Street Station House
Angel struggled against Penn's grip. The piece of sharp wood in Kate's hands made it pretty clear what was coming. If he really pushed it, he could break free of the younger vampire's hold; but this was the best chance for Penn becoming dust. If that meant he went with him, then that was what had to happen.
"You forget your own lessons, old teacher." Penn taunted. "Never give up the advantage, remember?" He pushed Angel towards Kate, still holding on. "Living among them has made you weak!"
Was he always this much in love with his own voice?
Then again, as Angelus, he'd always liked to hear himself talk – and Penn had taken all his lessons straight from Angelus's teachings. Probably hadn't learned a thing on his own over the past two hundred years. That was actually... disappointing, in a twisted sort of way. After all, Spike and Dru were nearly a century younger, yet they'd learned while Penn hadn't –
"It sickens me to think that there was a time you would have done whatever was necessary!" Penn snarled, still pushing.
I am, Penn. Angel looked to the improvised stake in Kate's hands, then to the beautiful blonde herself. If that's what it's going to take...
Kate charged at him – Angel braced himself...
And the sharpened wood passed diagonally up through his stomach and into Penn's chest – he heard the younger vampire explode to dust behind him, and then he was able to move, free of his childe's grip – and with a giant piece of wood sticking right through his insides, hurting like hell.
Gasping in pain – a purely instinctive reaction, of course – Angel staggered back. He looked just past Kate, having trouble seeing through the pain for the moment. "You missed."
"No, I didn't." Kate replied firmly. She grabbed the piece of wood and pulled it out of him, quickly – as it passed through his body in reverse, Angel couldn't help releasing another cry of pain. Then he collapsed onto the ground, still gasping.
"You've done some really fucking terrible things, Angel, and you can't make up for it." Kate said between slow, heavy breaths, leaning back against the wall. "But you've also saved my life three times, and been helpful – I'm gonna guess, most of the cases you helped me on: supernatural in nature?"
Angel nodded slowly, wondering how long it was going to take this injury to heal. "Yea. That mob boss you sent me after was normal, but the whole... sensitivity training thing that happened? That was a curse."
"Explains why no one tested positive for anything afterward." Kate observed. "But just so it's clear, that's why I didn't shove that stake through your heart too. Because you're a... resource. Congratulations; you can now consider yourself an unofficial CI to the LAPD."