My recurring Writer's Block problem with this fic seems to be getting progressively worse with every chapter. Some of these alternate episodes are obnoxiously complicated to figure out. But here, at last, is alternate "The Prom". Enjoy!
Buffy opened her eyes. It took a few seconds for her surroundings to come into focus, and once they did, she smiled. She was warmly snuggled under the covers of Angel's bed, and its other occupant had propped himself up on one elbow and was looking tenderly down at her and stroking her cheek with his free hand. Buffy thought he must have been doing this for several minutes at least; there was no difference between the temperature of his fingers and her skin.
This was how the majority of her mornings had begun in recent weeks, and she found that she loved it more and more all the time, though she was amazed that she always managed to feel so well rested and content despite not having actually gotten much sleep.
Angel took the opportunity of her being awake to lean down and kiss her. Buffy wrapped an arm around him and ran her fingers through his already tousled hair. They spent the next several minutes thus occupied, until Angel reluctantly pulled back.
"Is it time for me to go already?" asked Buffy, pouting.
"If you want to be home in time for breakfast with your mom before school starts," said Angel. "It's just after daybreak now."
"We want her to keep liking you," said Buffy, grudgingly allowing her own voice to become the second half of the chorus of unwanted logic.
"And that won't happen if she thinks I'm keeping you all to myself."
Buffy sighed. Feigning innocence, she suddenly sprang into motion, trying to reach the pile of her clothes on the floor by leaning across him. She had barely managed to stretch out one arm towards them when she recoiled abruptly with a shriek of laughter; Angel had taken advantage of her precarious situation and started tickling her.
[o]
Even though Buffy's diabolical plan succeeded and the tickling rapidly led to other things, she did manage to get home in time—not, perhaps, to pretend that she hadn't been out all night, but certainly early enough for breakfast. Even the awkwardness of her mother knowing what she'd been up to wasn't enough to dim her boisterous good spirits.
"Morning, Mom!" she said brightly before skipping across the kitchen and kissing her on the cheek.
"Good morning, Buffy," said Joyce, amused.
Buffy attacked her plate of bacon, eggs, and toast ravenously and then downed a tall glass of orange juice without taking a breath, her bubbly cheer apparent all the time in the liveliness of her eyes and the grin that broke out across her face whenever she was between mouthfuls.
Joyce watched all these signs with an affectionate eye that was only slightly tinted with bittersweetness. As Buffy had rightly guessed, Joyce knew perfectly well that she had spent the night with Angel. This knowledge would have been far more troubling if it wasn't for Buffy's obvious happiness and the favorable impressions Angel had made the evening he came over for dinner and every other time she'd caught glimpses of him since. What was more, if it was going to be a choice between Buffy spending her nights with Angel and spending them in mortal danger battling all kinds of horrible demons, Joyce would gladly take the former.
Still, it would be nice if she didn't have to worry about this sort of thing for a few more years—and the demon stuff not at all, but if Angel could make Buffy happy in spite of the danger and stress being the Slayer heaped upon her, then more power to him. The fact that he was a vampire was another detail that wasn't as troubling as it could have been, but in this case, that was only because she tried not to think about it and was largely successful.
[o]
Buffy was annoyed. She and Angel had almost finished patrolling when that last vamp decided to turn the night into a game of extreme cat and mouse. Which ultimately meant they had to follow him into the sewers. Despite her reluctance, she agreed with Angel's need for closure, though she did make a mental note to consider wearing rain boots on future patrols.
"Hey," she said suddenly, keeping her voice down, "you need clothes. You don't have a tux, do you?"
Angel made a funny noise that might have been a derisive snort. Since that wasn't a sound he often made, Buffy couldn't be sure she'd heard right, so she turned to look at him quizzically.
"I do, actually," he said finally, noticing her expression.
"And that's funny?" she asked, eyebrows still raised.
Their quarry chose that moment to switch from flight to fight mode, but was foolish enough to do so in the form of a head-on attack, complete with accompanying snarl to make his position even more obvious. Buffy promptly staked him and the conversation resumed as if there had been no interruption.
"Wes made me help him pick out his tux earlier this evening, and I got one too," said Angel in a pained voice.
Buffy looked at him incredulously for a moment, then giggled. "Okay, yeah, funny. I mean, I don't even make you go shopping with me. But why did he want your help with—oh." She giggled again, remembering Wesley's reaction earlier that day when Cordelia had told him how 007 he'd look in a tux. "You didn't get any of that on video, did you?"
"No," said Angel flatly. Wesley's status as a best friend to whom he owed a debt that could never be fully repaid notwithstanding, Angel's patience still had its limits, and two hours spent tying to navigate the treacherous passage between Wesley's ego and his insecurities—both of which were considerable—exceeded those limits by a significant amount. It had eventually become quite a struggle not to give him bad advice on purpose out of sheer exasperation.
"If he doesn't ask Cordy to dance on Friday, I'm going to make him eat his bow tie," said Buffy.
Angel laughed.
[o]
Wesley's antics soon proved to be the least of everyone's prom-related worries, however. The next day, Xander and Cordelia arrived at the library together (much to Wesley's misplaced consternation) bearing security footage and grim tidings. After they had all been sufficiently nauseated by the contents of the tape and Xander and Cordelia stopped sniping at each other, they went into full research mode. Giles and Wesley supplied ample information on Hell Hounds, Willow set to work on the computer, and Oz pulled out a yearbook to look up the culprit behind the brutal attack.
"Here," said Oz about half an hour later, having scrutinized both the tape and the yearbook carefully. Everyone gathered around him at the table. "Tucker Wells." He pointed him out on the page. "He's in my chem lab."
"Let me guess," said Wesley dryly, "he was quiet, kept to himself, but always seemed like a nice young man."
"Didn't seem the murderous type, anyway," said Oz. "Something must have happened to him."
Buffy glanced at Angel, whose eyes were narrowed as he looked closely at the yearbook picture. "What is it?" she asked.
"I think I've seen this kid before," he said.
"Do you mean like at the Bronze?" asked Willow, confused.
Angel shook his head. "Meat-packing plant."
Not getting it, Xander snorted. "Why would Dead-Boy go to a—" He caught sight of Buffy glaring at him, and comprehension dawned. "Oh." He turned to Angel, looking disappointed. "Aw, come on. You mean you don't bribe and/or threaten Red Cross people or something?"
Giles cleared his throat. "You say you've seen this boy at a meat-packing plant, Angel?" he said loudly.
"Yeah," said Angel, still scowling at Xander.
"Could he have been there to buy brains?" said Buffy. "I mean, he's gotta be feeding that thing, right?"
"Of course!" said Wesley excitedly.
"I can ask Harv for Tucker's address," said Angel.
"Good," said Buffy, hopping down from her perch on the table. "I'm coming with you." She and Angel were halfway towards the doors when she stopped and looked back. "Hey, Wil, meet you at seven to get ready, okay?"
"Yeah!" said Willow, her worried expression giving way to an eager grin. Oz smiled fondly, but then Willow's anxiety made a brief re-appearance. "Good luck!"
[o]
Harv, a heavy-set man wearing a blood-stained uniform and holding a clipboard, proved to be very helpful. Buffy noticed with a small twinge of regret that he was a little wary around Angel, but it wasn't enough to prevent him from giving them the information they'd been hoping for and stoutly shaking both of their hands before they left.
They arrived at Tucker's place fifteen minutes later, the weapons bag slung over Angel's shoulder. Tucker's younger brother, a sophomore or junior by the look of him, let them in, told them to follow the huge orange extension cord to the shed in the backyard, and went back to his comic book without another word—though that might have been because of the glare Angel leveled at him when he tried to offer more assistance.
They were halfway across the backyard when Tucker came out from around the side clutching a large transmitter, three large, hairy Hell Hounds prowling around him. At once, all of their heads turned in Buffy and Angel's direction and they began to snarl. Tucker saw them too and grinned. "You're too late," he sneered. "Attack, my pets!" he cried as he twiddled something on his transmitter. With loud barks, the Hell Hounds charged. Angel sent one crumpling to the ground by whacking it soundly with the weapons bag, and Buffy seized the other two about the ears and cracked their heads together. After snapping the neck of his with one sharp twist, Angel grabbed an axe from the bag and threw it to Buffy, who caught it and used it to behead both of hers.
Buffy and Angel glanced at each other, then turned simultaneously to face Tucker, who gulped and made a mad dash for the shed. Angel sprang forward and tackled him before he could reach it.
"Think you've got this?" asked Buffy.
"Yeah," said Angel, jerking a whimpering Tucker roughly back to his feet with a growl.
"Good," said Buffy, who felt like she wouldn't be able to stop herself from jumping Angel if she stayed much longer. "I'm just gonna go meet Willow now."
[o]
Wesley was not forced to eat his bow tie. In the end, all he needed was one half-encouraging, half-threatening look from Angel over Buffy's shoulder before he marched right up to Cordelia with a kind of sheepish swagger that only he seemed to be capable of doing and asked her to dance. She readily accepted, and they joined the large group of couples revolving slowly on the floor.
Particularly because of the disastrous Homecoming Queen campaign that she was still trying to block from her memory, Buffy did not expect anything when the prom committee started naming the senior superlatives. So, when Jonathan Levinson took the stage and read out the Class Protector award, she was caught completely by surprise. It was a few seconds before she recovered enough to walk forward and accept the delicate golden parasol from him amid a loud round of heart-felt applause from everyone in the gym. Afterward, her joyful mood was so infectious that she even managed to coax a hitherto unsuspected talent for swing dancing out of Angel when a '20s jazz number played near the end of the dance.
[o]
Almost the second the final chord of the last song played, Buffy and Angel were gone from the building, and they reached his apartment in record time. It was fortunate that Angel had not yet managed to locate the zipper on Buffy's dress, however, for no sooner had they staggered inside and closed the door behind them than an unfamiliar voice sounded from across the room.
"Well, don't you two look fancy!"
First one to guess who the intruder is wins! And there was another cameo in this chapter that will also result in winning. Anyway. Yeah, so there was a lot different from canon here. Which makes a nice change from some of the recent chapters stuff. Obviously, with Angel's new and improved curse, the "post-slayage nap thing" became a lot more sans clothing than in canon. And for Joyce, the key difference here is that Buffy is *happy*. Which, in canon, she was not. I have no problem with what Joyce did in canon (even though it's still painful to watch Angel's expression while she's saying her bit), incidentally, but circumstances have veered off course here. She's had the opportunity to see Angel in a better light (figuratively speaking), Buffy has actually been confiding in her, and again, Buffy is happy. And then the lack of heart-breaking-ness in the sewer talk. Well, obviously. They're happy, they have a better support system, and they actually talk through their issues. Angel didn't even have enough brooding thoughts of relationship doom to have the bride-going-up-in-flames nightmare. The other changes are fairly straightforward, and once again, Wesley is on hand for some silliness. Also, nothing in canon ever said anything about Angel not being able to swing dance. He lived through the era. He had plenty of opportunities to see how it works. Vamp agility and reflexes can take care of the rest. It's valid. :P