Bring Me to Life – A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event
Part 30 – Clearing the Air
Sands Hotel & Casino – Las Vegas
1953
"Bastard!"
The shrill cry of the young, attractive, yet ghostly all-white half-demoness echoed around the grand main lobby of the world-famous Sands Hotel & Casino as she let loose another powerful green bolt of bio-energy from her hands.
The bolt ended up missing a panting Angel and a bruised, slightly bloodied Spike by inches as they ducked out of harm's way behind a still-standing pillar that had managed to survive the carnage the infuriated woman and her vengeful half-demon brother had wrought upon the entire hotel in a span of merely 10 minutes, reducing the hotel's lobby to mostly cinders and sending panicked and screaming guests, patrons and gamblers scrambling for the exits in sheer terror.
Figures, Angel mused in between surveying the smoke-filled, blood-stained lobby, littered with stray and charred corpses and body parts, for any survivors and a nearby exit. Take a vacation for the first time in about 100 years, let my guard down a little, and, right on cue, I had to be in the one place on Earth where Spike would be messing things up again. Karma really is a bitch, isn't it?
It was supposed to be just a quick pit stop between towns. Guilt-ridden as ever, Angel had stayed in solitude for about a year before this evening after that incident in the Hyperion Hotel. Letting that Thesulac Demon slaughter the entire hotel as he simply walked away after being betrayed by a desperate Judy Kovacs, the first human he had let close to him in a long time, was not something he expected to let get to him for very long, if at all. After all, they were the ones who turned on him, beat him, even hanged him—which, thankfully, didn't take due to his undead nature-when he made the foolish mistake of trying to help them in their time of need. Logic said he owed them nothing. Hell, some would even say they deserved what they got.
Problem was, Angel's newfound conscience didn't see it that way. He knew he could have helped those humans, a small part of him even arguing that he should have despite their turning on him, but he instead chose to turn his back on them and let the Thesulac Demon have free reign, tear them apart. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could still hear their anguished screams. Another chorus of terror and human misery to add to the awful symphony of human suffering that he had composed over nearly two centuries of debauchery, destruction and death.
He might have been immortal, but even Angel had his limits when it came to suffering. He needed a break. So he wandered east, wanting to put as much distance between himself and L.A. as possible. Las Vegas was just supposed to be a spot where he could get some rest for a day before drifting on elsewhere, an unwanted outcast between worlds, belonging neither to demon nor man.
He hadn't expected to stick around in Las Vegas long. Or to accidentally save a man from a vampire attack, staking both fledglings with ease after a short fight, that turned out to be the world famous entertainer Frank Sinatra. Or to have a grateful Sinatra introduce him to the legendary Rat Pack and enjoy drinks with them, tonight being the second. Or to have Sinatra foot the bill for anything Angel desired, from booze to women, expensive gifts and his hotel stay. Angel really didn't want any of it, but after hanging around the charismatic entertainer for a few days, he had slowly begun to like him. And heck, after all Angel had been through, it wasn't as if he had a long list of people to call 'friends.' After a little while, reluctantly, Angel admitted he was actually starting to have a little fun…
…so, naturally, Spike just had to be in the one place he was starting to let his guard down a little in, a loud explosion from the second floor sending a dazed Spike, his clothes tattered, crashing down on the gambling table where a surprised Angel was impressing the Rat Pack by rolling nine straight 7s, earning himself quite a bit of cash and a crowd of awe-struck, excited patrons around him.
There he was, making a mess out of things, as usual. And, as Angel had done many a time during their years together, he had to help mop up that idiot's mess. Again.
"On yer six, mate! Move it or lose it!" barked Spike as he spotted the pale male demon rounding the corner, hands crackling with green energy, glowing jade eyes crackling with demonic power.
Angel barely had time to move before the boy sent the bolt hurling his way and into the pillar, the explosion knocking both Angel and Spike backwards, sprawling onto the ground. Groaning, Angel clutched his head, shaking off the stars that were forming around his vision. Spike was no better off, his red dress shirt now in ashy, soot-covered shreds as he clutched his ribs painfully, taking a brief look around the ruined hotel lobby.
"I heard of bringing down the house, but these two tossers take the cake," Spike quipped, trying to get to his feet.
"Shut up, Spike," an irritated Angel groaned, reaching for a metal bar that came loose from a destroyed wall nearby. He needed to get armed and in a hurry, as these two twins were clearly not playing around.
"Easy there, gramps, just tryin' to lighten the mood," Spike shrugged as both vampires finally made it to their feet…just in time to see both demons floating above them, their bodies illuminated in crackling green energy.
"I'm thinking…poor choice of words, boys," the male sneered, both demons taking aim at their undead quarry.
Seeing an opening as the young demons foolishly took too long to fire, Angel's powerful right hand tightened around the metal bar.
"And I'm thinking…you talk too much, kid," the dark-haired vampire growled as he sent the bar flying towards the boy, striking him perfectly in the head, the blow sending his firing hand aimlessly upwards, striking a piece of the ceiling.
"Nash! Are you-ooof!" the female cried out before a piece of falling plaster struck her on the head, sending her crashing down to the floor.
"Haul ass, Spike," Angel gruffly called out as he grabbed Spike by the collar and ducked behind the empty bar, both vampires crouching low to avoid detection.
Shaking the cobwebs off, Spike raised his eyebrows in approval. "Nice shot. That Nash kid always did talk too much."
Ignoring the younger vampire's compliment, Angel focused on the situation at hand as he scanned the bar for a weapon. "How do you know these jokers? And what'd you do to piss them off?"
"Hey, now, that's a bit rude, in'nit?" an offended Spike asked. "How do you know that I'm not the one being wronged here? How do you know that it was me that did anything?"
Off the deadpan look his unamused Grandsire gave him, Spike relented with a rueful chuckle. "Alright, alright, guilty as charged. I'm a stinker."
Shaking his head in disgust, Angel grabbed a bottle of whisky, opened it and hastily grabbed a strewn-about rag, readying a weapon. "So, what was it this time? Cheating on cards? Steal something? You sleep with the girl and that's her pissed-off boyfriend looking for blood?"
"Brother, actually," Spike corrected, smugly. "But yeah, Number Three it is, mate."
Groaning, Angel emptied a nearby drawer, desperately searching for an item. "Perfect. I walked in on a family affair. Hope she was worth the ass-kicking you're gonna get from them…and from me, if we live through this."
"Oy! I'll have you know she was the one who came onto me," Spike protested. "I saved the bint's life in Rome a few weeks ago. She's some kinda half-demon, half-human nympho, tryin' to get preggers by shagging any demon filth she can tie her legs around. But she ran afoul of a Black Widower. You remember…nasty, giant spider-lookin' things, smell awful?"
"I know what a Black Widower is," Angel replied gruffly, searching another drawer hastily as he listened. "Don't they eat whoever they mate with?"
"Bingo," Spike nodded. "Was gonna do the deed on her, too, when I showed up. This particular bloke owed me five large on a poker game and skipped town before he could give me my money. Since he didn't pony up the dough, I cut my losses…and his head off. Anyway, Bright Eyes over there—name's Pearl, by the way, great body, but kinda clingy and daft as a mule—followed me down here after me and Dru decided to take a little break, and the girl, still grateful, decides to repay me for my services…if you get my drift."
Off Spike's waggling eyebrows, Angel regarded him briefly in annoyance. "I think I can imagine. But if she's looking to get pregnant, why get involved-"
"-with a vampire? Hell if I know, mate, must be me animal magnetism," Spike smirked. "Was a fine shaggin', too, that one. Flexible and energetic. A real handful. But then she starts goin' on about commitment and destiny and living together…yeah, right. Like I'd ever leave Dru for some little piece of demon ass I met on the side."
"Dru's a lucky girl," Angel sarcastically replied, finally picking up what he sought-a discarded book of matches. "I'm guessing she didn't handle rejection well?"
Before Spike could answer, a livid Pearl moved in a blur until she was hovering above them, angry green eyes glowing and hands angrily crackling with jade power.
"What do you think?" she smiled, coldly, her outstretched hand taking aim at both vampires.
His other hand concealed, Angel waited for his moment…
"Honestly? I think you could do a hell of a lot better than Spike," the dark-haired vampire replied with a smirk.
"OY!" an insulted Spike protested.
…before he sent the flaming Molotov Cocktail he lit flying, striking her hand. The heat of her energy and the deadly bottle came together in a spectacular explosion, sending the girl flying backwards as Angel and sprawled out of the way.
They didn't have much time to recover before a series of bolts sent the ground beneath them buckling upwards, courtesy of an angry Nash, who now started to get his bearings.
As the two vampires ducked and dodged each deadly blast of energy, Angel's keen eyes took notice of Nash's movements. He was strong, but a lousy shot. Instead of taking his time to use his aerial advantage to his favor, he was throwing energy blasts around like candy. And from the beads of sweat forming on the kid's forehead and the rapid, furious pounding of his heart, the former Scourge of Europe could sense that the young demon was starting to get tired.
Perhaps there was an opening here.
"Spike, divide and conquer," he called out as he nimbly dodged another energy blast. "You take Pearl. I'll get the boy."
"Me?" Spike blurted out, shocked, as he ducked a green blast of energy from a furious Pearl. "Why do I gotta take the girl?"
"Because you got me into this, and now you're gonna help get us out of it," Angel spat out, pulling all of his strength into one jump before he burst up into the air and tackled Nash in mid-flight.
Trading blows with Angel, Nash growled as he grabbed Angel by the throat and floated even higher in the air. "This isn't your business, vampire. Our fight's with that blonde undead scum who soiled my sister's good name. You get one chance…either run now and leave us to our vengeance, or you can burn with your friend."
Annoyed, Angel ground out his reply. "One, Spike is not, nor will he ever be, my friend-"
A concussive headbutt from Angel dazed Nash, forcing the pale demon to release his hold.
"Two, my reasons for helping him are, as always…complicated," Angel continued, his own iron grip now latching onto the young demon's neck as he pushed him downwards, forcing their trajectory to aim downwards at alarming speed.
"Three, you just killed about 14 people, messed up a really nice hotel and ruined my night out, which I never get to have anymore these days," the souled vampire bit out as he sent a fist right into the bridge of his foe's flattened nose, drawing blood as he aimed them both towards his target…
"And four…"
…which was a wall on the other side of the hotel, Angel using Nash's body as a shield to cushion the brutal impact. And the kid took all of it, slumping dazed and nearly out cold against the shattered wall, a gaping hole where his head struck exposing several power lines and gas pipes.
Satisfied, Angel dusted himself off as he disdainfully regarded the fallen young demon. "I just really don't like you, kid" he concluded.
On his end, Spike was having his hands full with Pearl.
"You lied to me, Spike," she growled inhumanly, hurling blasts of energy his way. "Used me. I thought you were my hero when you saved my life. My knight in shining armor. But you're no hero. You're just a piece of slime who will do anything to lure an unsuspecting girl into your bed. I should have known better than to sleep with a vampire. Like Mama always said, 'Lie down with leeches, and you get bitten!'"
"Oh, get off it, luv," sneered the blonde vampire, grabbing a nearby table and flinging it her way, which she promptly blasted to bits. "You knew about Dru and I when you chased me down here. It was one night, Pearl. One. As in 'one and done.' And frankly, sweetheart, you might be a nice little tumble, but my Drusilla makes you look like a fish on dry land in the sack."
Shrieking angrily, Pearl's hands seemed to glow even brighter, hotter, as she let out a powerful blast of energy directly at Spike, who moved away just as the blast obliterated the wall behind him, leaving nothing but rubble and a gaping hole exposing the starry Las Vegas night and the streets below.
Taking advantage of her obvious fatigue from using so much concentrated power into one blast, Spike pounced, leaping towards the attractive demon and cracking her in the face with a stiff flying kick that sent her reeling backwards. Pressing his advantage, Spike threw fist after fist against her skull, unloading with no remorse as Pearl slumped to her knees.
Flashing a cocky grin, Spike shook his head at the fallen demoness. "World's a harsh place, Pearl Ol' Girl. Live long enough in it, and you'll learn that. Don't worry, though. You'll miss me." He winked cheekily, about to turn back to Angel, when Pearl's hand flew up, catching him by the throat. Snarling, she hauled the stunned and choking Spike up a good eight feet in the air.
Smiling cruelly, wild pale hair whipping in the wind, eyes crackling ominously in jade fury, Pearl fixed her eyes on the scummy vampire who broke her heart dangling helplessly in her grip. "No, baby. I won't."
Spike could feel the heat of Pearl's balled-up powerful fist, glowing green and hot, as she reared it back for the fatal blow, sneering as she did it. "Nobody will."
But her vengeance was short lived as she felt the sharp pain of something striking her in the back of the head. That something was Angel's fist, the elder vampire coming in at the last second, his blow forcing her to drop Spike.
"I think you've caused just about enough trouble for one night, girl," Angel growled, in vampire face, as he followed up with a kick that struck her in the back, sending her spiraling down to the ground.
Before he could relish the blow, a wave of green heat struck him full in the chest, sending him flying backwards towards the other side of the hotel.
"GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF MY SISTER!" bellowed a furious Nash, his hands smoking from the blast he used to send Angel propelling to the other side. Turning to see Spike staggering to his feet, Nash flashed an evil smile as he grabbed Spike by the throat.
"Ow! Bloody hell, again with the throat?" Spike gasped out. "Just because I don't breathe doesn't mean I like my windpipe crushed, ya know!"
"You should have known better than to lay your hands on my sister, William," Nash sneered, using Spike's real name as he squeezed tighter. "I'll think I'll keep those as a backstratcher…after I dismember you and your friend piece-by-piece."
A gurgled laugh was Spike's response. "Oh, please, Nash. I've picked thing outta my teeth scarier than the likes of you."
"Good." Nash's eyes glowed green with rage as he bared a feral smile. Right before he blasted Spike with a powerful punch that sent him flying to the other side of the room to join a still-down Angel. "I'll start with those first."
A sore Angel staggered up to his feet. These kids were a couple of tough cookies. He and Spike were running out of options. Unless they did something fast, they were as good as ashes, and Angel knew it.
"I don't suppose you have any tricks up your sleeve, Angelus?" Spike groaned as he clutched his ribs, crouching alongside Angel, who frowned at that name.
"Don't call me that," the dark-haired vampire snapped quietly. "They're too strong to take together. They're getting tired, but we'll be ashes at this rate before we can lay a hand on them." His preternatural senses extended, allowing him to feel the strength of his foes. "Their power, I can feel it…they're like twin furnaces. Hot, and getting hotter still."
"Oh, that," Spike noted. "They draw their power off emotions. The base parts of it. Anger, fear, pain, hate, all that nasty stuff. Angrier they get, the more power they can channel. Leaves them a bit drained, but their victims usually seem to end up too dead to do anything 'bout it."
Taking that piece of information in, Angel's keen mind quickly surveyed the scene. Took in the hole in the wall, exposing a gas line. Became aware of a nearby window just to their left. And within moments, he had an idea.
"Well, there's only two things for you to do," Angel smiled knowingly, a momentarily confused Spike following Angel's eyes to the hole in the wall, then to the window, and back to the brightly glowing brother-sister demon combo floating their way, slowly and predatorily. "Follow my lead, and do the one thing you're best at…piss people off."
Spike smirked wickedly as he got what his Grandsire had in mind.
"A delightful game, gentlemen, but my brother and I have grown quite bored of your existence," Pearl smugly grinned alongside her brother, who flashed a menacing smile at the pair of immortals floating beneath them. "Any last words before we parboil you to a crisp?"
A taunting chuckle was Spike's response, catching the two pale demons offguard. "Yeah, I got a few words. Hey, Nash—make sure you l'il sis washes her mouth clean and good 'fore you meet up with your mum again for a kiss, eh? I mean, the things she did to me a little while ago with that pretty little mouth…ooh, there should be laws against that."
Growling, the outraged demons began to glow even greener.
Inching slightly closer to the hole in the wall as Spike followed his lead, Angel, fixing his most arrogant smile, added his own two cents. "I don't know, Spike, I mean, you know what they say…the apple doesn't always fall far from the tree, does it?"
Infuriated, Pearl screeched, "Don't you DARE TALK ABOUT OUR MOTHER!" as she and Nash took aim and fired deadly twin bolts of hot green energy towards Angel and Spike…
…who mustered all their unnatural speed to dodge the bolts and go flying out the window…
…just before a loud explosion rocked the Las vegas night, courtesy of the building getting leveled thanks to the plasma bolts blowing the gas line and sending the ceiling crashing down on top of the duped Pearl and Nash, buried under the rubble.
Both vampires landed hard on top of a nearby Rolls Royce, denting the hood and smashing the windshield as passersby gasped and crowded around the scene of the hotel, which now was engulfed in smoke as half of the building lay in crumbled ruins.
Amid the screaming sirens of the fire department and police swarming over the scene in moments, a wounded Angel and bruised and battered Spike slunk away through the crowds into a nearby alley, careful to avoid the peering gaze of curious onlookers and questioning police officials.
Feeling a drip of blood from his nose dribble down his mouth before wiping it away, Angel groaned as he clutched his ribs. At least three of them were broken, he could feel that. Nothing that a day or two of sleep wouldn't heal, of course, but still, a fairly annoying injury. Next to him, Spike, clutching his injured arm as his bruised left eye swelled shut, stared up pensively for a few moments, before turning to Angel with a smirk and an unexpected request.
"So…up for a drink, gramps?"
Astounded and infuriated in equal measure, Angel stared at the younger vampire for a beat…and then his fist came flying out towards Spike's nose, rewarded with a sound snap as the younger vampire fell backwards, cursing and clutching his face.
Staggering up to his feet, Angel glared down at the bleeding Spike…and then, shaking his head, let out a breathless sigh, before he offered his hand to help him up.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," a resigned Angel sighed.
Chuckling in satisfaction, Spike accepted the older vampire's help as he slowly made it to his feet. As the two former Whirlwind brothers trudged down the alley in search of a nearby bar, Angel's curiosity got the better of him. "Was all that true about Pearl in bed?"
A smile somehow both secretive and braggadocios spread on Spike's face. "A gentleman never kisses and tells, mate."
"Since when were you a gentleman?" Angel snorted, dismissively.
"Oy! Keep that up and you're payin' fer yer own pint, old timer," Spike threatened, though without malice.
"After I saved your ass-and you ruined my vacation-least you can do is buy," Angel reminded him.
"Yeah, well, at least you can say this, Angelus," Spike said proudly. "With ol' Spike around in your life, there's no such thing as a dull moment."
Hyperion Hotel—the next morning, Present Day
Angel's room
Shaking away flashes of that memory from decades before drifting through his mind, Angel stirred slightly before his eyes snapped open in bed.
It wasn't the most restful night of sleep Angel ever had.
That dream-turned-nightmare that he had about Buffy kept him awake for most of the night, haunting his thoughts at every turn. And now, he was facing a long day with much to do with out the aid of a proper night's sleep to help him. Which was why he was trying to squeeze every last drop out of a few more minutes of sleep before someone inevitably came knocking on his door.
Frankly, he was starting to regret disrupting his normal daytime sleeping habits over the last year—a part of fitting in the Cordelia had suggested to him. He knew his Seer meant well, but in retrospect, the suggestion was kind of pointless. He was a vampire, after all—his kind didn't do the daytime thing. Even back in his human days centuries ago when he lived in Galway, he wasn't exactly a morning person, either; he much preferred the night, and all the mystery it held, and revelry found in every bar and brothel he could find in his careless, wayward youth.
Still, true to his spirit, he fought and warred against this unwanted case of insomnia as he tossed and turned in the bed, taking solace in the silence that was still around the hotel. It was only 6:45 a.m., and from the quiet of things, it seemed that everyone was still asleep. With the exception of Andrew, who was banging about pots, pans and plates in the kitchen as he prepared breakfast, there was a soothing peace and silence that was around the halls.
Focusing on that, Angel relaxed and let his mind drift off slowly…
Da ding de ding de ding de de de ding ding!
Da ding de ding de ding de de de ding!
Da ding de ding de ding de de de ding ding!
De ding de ding de ding de ding de ding de ding!
Aaaand there went his sleep.
Loud rap music began to assault his ears, eliciting a growl from him as he tried to drown out the noise, grabbing the pillow and earmuffing it tightly around his head, enveloping both ears. But his supernaturally sensitive hearing, damn it to hell, was still picking up that accursed noise.
Giving up, Angel threw the pillow across the room, abandoning all hope of trying to get in a few peaceful moments of shuteye. Cursing under his breath, he hastily threw on a pair of slacks and a navy blue dress shirt from the closet that he didn't even bother to button and went to investigate the source of the noise. He was just glad that his injuries had all but completely healed overnight, so it didn't hurt to move as much. The sound of that hip-hop song grew louder as he roamed the halls looking for the source of it, his hearing pinpointing it to one room that no one was supposedly using. Angel shook his head in annoyance; he was willing to be hospitable in his home to the other guests, but even the undead deserved a bit of rest after the night that he had. Whoever it was that was blaring that noise was going to get a piece of his mind for blasting that noise this early in the morning, and he had every intention of doing that when he peaked into the room…
…and found Buffy, a blur of kinetic motion and concentration as she worked on her morning calisthenics.
I slam the door (Boom!)
When I come into the bedroom (Wham! Bam!)
'Cause I'm the King of the castle (na na na)
Turn me on, turn me loose (come on, come on)
Try to hit it, it's a hassle
As hard as he tried, Angel found it hard to tear his eyes away from the sight of her. The earphones on her walkman, the source of the music, blasted the sounds in her eardrums, the small, sprightly Slayer losing herself in the song as she threw a series of kicks and punches into the air, mixing it up every now and then with a few perfect cartwheels and well-timed rolls, her movements almost perfectly in sync with the steady, loud rhythmic beat of the music.
Come, baby, come, baby baby come come
(Come baby come baby baby come come)
Well, you gotta give me lovin', yeah, you gotta give me some
(You gotta give me lovin' and you gotta give me some)
Even after all this time, it was mesmerizing to Angel how this little blonde beauty moved, clad in tight white-striped black workout pants, sneakers and a simple grey tank top, her favorite workout attire from years back, as he recalled. He was rather fond of it as well, as his eyes roamed appreciatively over her perfectly fit form. The way her body, lithe and nimble, deftly moved and stretched so gracefully. The way the supple curves of her body bounced almost enticingly with every high kick, every thrust and counter, the way her golden skin glowed, glistened in the heat of the workout. The alluring scent of vanilla mixing with her natural pheromones that created a scent so powerfully arousing to his super-sensitive nose that he had to summon nearly all of his renown calm and discipline to collect himself.
Buffy Summers was truly a beauty like no other, a rose in a garden of ordinary flowers. He could watch her move like this for days, weeks, and never grow tired for even a minute.
Come, baby, come, baby baby come come
(Come baby come baby baby come come)
Well, you gotta give me lovin', yeah, you gotta give me some
(You gotta give me lovin' and you gotta give me some)
Buffy was so lost in the workout that she almost didn't notice that familiar tingle at the base of her spine and in the pit of her stomach—her Angel-sense, as she had dubbed it years back.
Smiling mischievously to herself as she realized he was doing his Mystery Guy lurk-y thing, she called back a simple greeting. "Top o' the mornin' to ya, gorgeous."
Before a surprised Angel could respond, Buffy had agilely cartwheeled backwards to him, spinning around to meet his stunned face.
"Um, uh…hi, Buffy," a flustered Angel stammered. Usually when he hid, he was virtually undetectable, moving like the shadows. Most people could never find Angel when he decided to go "Stealth Mode." But then again, Buffy wasn't like most people.
Amused by his sheepishness, Buffy teased, "Tip? Mouth looks better closed." Deciding that she had enough of her fun, she let him off the hook, standing on her tip-toes and planting a simple kiss on his lips, nipping gently at his bottom lip.
God, she forgot how good his mouth tasted. "So…care to tell me whatcha doin' going all Voyeur Guy on my morning workout?"
A pang of desire flared in Angel from that simple kiss, though he managed to keep that tempered. Flashing a ghost of a smile, he met her eyes. "Sorry. It was just…the music woke me up. Wasn't sure who it was, and after I found out it was you, well…I wasn't too sure you'd want to see me after…well, after last night."
Regret flashed in Buffy's eyes at the mention of that confrontation in the library. Taking Angel's hand, she gently pulled him into the room. Anyone with a brain knew that even with a lot of things cleared up about where their hearts lay, the undead hero and Sunnydale's Chosen One had a lot to talk about.
"About that," Buffy began, apologetic. "Angel, I…I'm so sorry about giving you the brush-off last night after the whole thing with Spike. And the hurting-your-ribs-by-shoving-you-against-the-wall thing." Sheepishly, she added. "And waking you up with the rousing sounds of nineties' hip-hop from K7."
He nodded in understanding. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. It…the Spike thing was my fault, anyway, Buffy. Honestly, I was really trying to stay away from him, so I just went up to do some reading." He shook his head, disappointed in himself. "But the moment I saw him, something just…snapped, and then the whole thing just escalated so fast, and…"
"Angel, it's okay," she gently offered, reaching up and gently laying her soft hand on his right cheek. "I think it's safe to say that last night wasn't exactly a shining moment for either of us. The important thing is that…that it's over. It's in the past." She looked at him, a hopeful smile on her pretty face. "Now we can start thinking about the future."
Her words were not lost on Angel. He knew Buffy was talking about them. Sure, there was the current impending apocalypse around the corner, but that wasn't the whole scope the future Buffy was thinking about. Or him, either, for that matter.
But after that dream last night, Angel was starting to have serious doubts over whether or not thinking about a future with Buffy was the wise thing to do. As much as it tore him to pieces deep inside, he would never put his desires, his wants and needs above her safety. Ever.
Deciding to change the subject, for now, he checked her over for injuries from the night before. "Are you alright? That fight with the Beast last night left you a little banged up…"
She shrugged it off. "I'm fine. You know me. Tefflon-tough and all that. I'm almost completely healed. Just needed to get in some quality workout time." Remembering his injuries, her worried eyes began scanning him…and lingering on the well-developed upper body that was peaking out of that open blue shirt of his. "What about you? Are you okay? Between Spike and the Walking Slagheap, you took some pretty bad damage. Are you sure you're not…?"
"Buffy, relax, I'm fine," he smiled, assuringly. "Sleep and supernatural healing. A wounded vampire's two best friends."
Relieved, Buffy smiled. "Good. Let's try to spread out your fight card in the future, okay, Rocky?"
Angel chuckled, then looked at the small blonde curiously. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? I would have thought that you'd be getting some shut-eye until later in the morning."
Images of that nightmare flashed before Buffy's eyes...making love to Angel, his face changing, that intimate, searing vampire bite…that horrible, demonic, vampire face plastered on her as she smiled soullessly back at him ….
Shaking it off, she forced a chuckle. "Uh…couldn't sleep. You know me, always have to be doing something to keep busy. Speaking of which," she changed the subject, "did you remember anything about what Jasmine pulled a 'Johnny Mnemonic' on your noggin?"
At that, Angel scrunched his eyebrows, caught off guard for a moment by that remark. "Huh?"
Off his confusion, Buffy stifled a chuckle. Some things never changed; Angel and pop culture went together like oil and water. "Nineties flick, of the Keanu Reeves oeuvre-"
"The one where the courier guy's head is a living computer and he runs around delivering important messages plugged into his head. I know," he beat her to the punch with his explanation as he suddenly remembered the movie she referenced. Now it was his turn to smile off her surprised face. "Movie Marathon night. About a year ago. It was Gunn's turn to pick the movie for all of us to watch."
Buffy let that sink in. The old Angel, the one she remembered from those seemingly long ago high school days, wouldn't have been able to distinguish pop culture from popcorn. After all, he wasn't exactly Joe Sociable back then. Now, here he was years later, with a tight-knit group of friends…more like family…having Movie Nights and a son. Hell, Buffy couldn't even remember the last time she had a Movie Night with Willow, Xander and the gang. After she…came back…things started to change between them all last year, and not for the better. And just when things looked like the Scoobies were in a place where they could rebuild and reform their old tight-knit bonds, the madness with The First had started. To some extent, she was a little envious of what Angel had now. He was luckier than he realized. Luckier than her, even, she realized wistfully.
"Wow," she nodded, impressed. "Look at you, Mr. Movie-phile."
Angel chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not that big a deal. It was a slow night, not many demons to kill on patrol…I kinda got roped into it."
At that, Buffy smiled, shrugging. "Well, on the bright side, you might win points on a game show with that little trivia bit you got." Off his chuckle rumbling through his chest—all thick and rumbl-y, which made her knees a little weak—she decided to change the subject. "So…nothing on the Jasmine front? Clues? Plans? Cheat codes?"
He shook his head. "Nothing useful. Lilah's little magic trick last night might have just been a one-shot, for all we know." Off her disappointed face, his eyes fell a tad. "Sorry."
Disappointed, but undaunted, Buffy nonchalantly brushed it off. "No biggie. Not your fault Jasmine didn't have more to share. But we might as well rally the troops. If we only have three weeks before this 'Awakening' thing, I'd say getting to Jasmine before The First does is priority numero uno."
"I don't think we're going to have much luck finding her, Buffy," Angel shook his head. "She's had a whole night to travel. She could be anywhere by now. We can widen the search, but it sounds like we need to play 'Keep Away.' If Lilah was right about the Keystone being the only thing that can open the Eye of Creation, then our job is to make sure The First and its minions don't get their hands on it until the Awakening passes."
"Ok, then, we can split our eggs into two baskets," Buffy suggested. "Small search party with some muscle to hunt for Jasmine, and the others can stay here and guard the Keystone."
"I can join in on the search for Jasmine," Angel offered. "I'm already familiar with her scent. We could use another tracker, though."
"What about Connor? I hear your not-so-little-boy's got a pretty good sniff-y sense."
Angel shook his head immediately at the thought of his son going on such a dangerous quest. "No way. After everything Connor went through because of Jasmine and the Beastmaster, no way am I putting him anywhere near her. Faith's almost as good a tracker, though. We should take her."
Angel couldn't help but to notice how Buffy's mouth suddenly drew into a tense, tight line at the mention of the dark-haired Slayer. "Faith? We're looking to put out a fire, not throw gas on it," Buffy said somewhat dismissively. "She might be a decent tracker, but she doesn't exactly have a great track record when getting too close to big evil."
"She's put all that behind her, Buffy," Angel countered, gently but firmly. "Look, if it wasn't for Faith, I might still not have my soul back, which means a lot of people might be dead right now because of me. She was a big help when the Beastmaster was wreaking havoc last time. She's changed. She's made better choices since Sunnydale. I know you and her never really got along, but she's trying to be somebody good now, she really is. I say we give her a shot."
Buffy raised an eyebrow at the irony in that statement. "Oh, I see. So, with Faith-who stole my body, held my mom hostage and tried to help the Mayor make Sunnydale an 'All-You-Can-Eat' buffet-you think she deserves the benefit of the doubt because you and she are buddies, but when it comes to, oh, say, Spike, you think 'Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!' Huh, glad to see you keep trust on a level playing field."
An instantly annoyed Angel narrowed his eyes at the mention of that damned Spike. "After what happened between me and Spike last night, I really don't think you'd want him anywhere near me. Not if you don't want him getting vacuumed off the floor."
"Ha! See?" she pointed out. "I knew it. You still can't get over your personal problems with Spike, but you just expect me to get over some very real issues I have with Faith because she's your pal. If you're so willing to give Faith a free pass using the 'She-Changed-She's-Good-Now' card, why aren't you willing to give Spike the same chance?"
"Because last I checked, Faith didn't try to rape you," Angel tersely replied.
Off her visible surprise, evident by the wide-eyed glace Buffy gave him and way her mouth fell open in shock before she briefly averted her eyes to the floor, Angel pressed his point, but was careful not to press too hard. He knew…or at least, he was pretty sure he knew…where Buffy's feelings lay between him and Spike after last night, but he knew that she had started to grow close to Spike over the last few years.
And as revolting as that concept was to him, he knew he had to respect her decisions. "Look…I know that you and he got…closer," he slowly started again. "But I've known him a lot longer than either of us have known Faith. I don't trust him. Probably never will. I need people out there that I can trust to watch my back, not to stick a stake in it."
Irritated, Buffy mulled that over for a moment. Seeing a way she could turn that around on him, she kept a neutral face. "Okay, fine. I get that. So, in that case, tonight, how about you and Faith take point on the Jasmine hunt? I'll stay behind with Spike here in the hotel to guard the Keystone."
At that, a stunned Angel balked. "Whoa, what? I thought you and I were going after Jasmine together-"
"Gotta spread out the muscle, remember?" she said nonchalantly. She admitted, while she did feel kinda bad, it was fun to see him squirm a little. "I mean, you were right. We do have to have the Keystone guarded with some muscle. And the last thing I'd want for you to do is to be put in an uncomfortable sitch out in the field. That wouldn't be right."
Realizing that she had painted him into a corner, Angel ran down his options. He couldn't bring Buffy along without Spike, it seemed, and that was simply not an option after last night. He was still trying to figure out how to spend the rest of this apocalypse without impaling that idiot on a coat rack. But he was also determined to prove to Buffy that Faith was someone that could be trusted. Which led him to his one remaining move.
"Ok," he said simply, biting back a smirk. "Fine. I'll head out with Faith. But on one condition…you go tell her. Talk to her, hash it out, let me know what she thinks. If she doesn't like the idea, I can go convince her."
An unexpecting Buffy's satisfied smile fell at that. After that mini-pissing contest between her and her sister Slayer last night, they were most certainly not on good terms. And frankly, talking to her wasn't exactly something that Buffy was looking to do right now…or at any other time.
Still, she wasn't stupid. She could see Angel was trying to one-up her on this. And Buffy was not someone that would walk away from a challenge. Even if it was to talk with someone who she didn't, had never, and probably would never see eye-to-eye with. About anything. Ever.
Steeling herself, Buffy put on her best version of her "resolve face" as she raised her chin defiantly. "Ok, then…fine. I'll go talk to Faith. I just need a moment to shower and I'll wait for her to get up and we'll…talk." Or pummel each other. Whichever comes first. This should be…fun. Oy vey.
Hyperion Hotel – Faith's Room
After Breakfast
Thwack-Thwack!
Thwack Thwack-Thwack!
Grunting, Faith let the breath explode out of her mouth as she high-kicked the tackle dummy she had managed to foist from the training room downstairs the day before. She figured Angel wouldn't mind; as much as she liked most of the Potentials down there, sometimes, she just needed a space to chill and blow off some steam.
And after the night that she had, between her date-gone-wrong with Spike, Drusilla, trading barbs with Buffy and, most confusing of all, that moment with Spike. That kiss…
Faith had done more than her fair share of kissing, and then some, in her time, but she had to admit, that was probably the best damn kiss she had in a long time. She couldn't remember anything that came close to it. Sure, Spike was rough around the edges, and he did seem a tad clingy, but he was sweet, when he wanted to be, and cool, and that boy sure knew his way around a girl's mouth. She smiled to herself thinking about it…
THUD!
And then, catching herself, refocused her attention on the dummy at her mercy with a hard right roundhouse kick. No way in hell was she going down that road. Well…not yet, anyway. Not until she got some kind of assurance that Spike only had his eyes for one Philly in the stable, and that it wasn't Miss Buffy "I-Don't-Know-How-To-Have-Fun-Because-Of-The-Stake-Up-My-Ass" Summers. She had no desire to be caught in any lover's triangle. She didn't break out of prison to audition for "90210"; she came here to help stomp out the bad guys. Best to keep it simple and just focus on the job at hand. She'd made it far enough on her own without anyone waiting on her, and she didn't figure on starting any of that up now.
Besides, for all she knew, Spike was probably halfway to Mexico, by now. Not that she'd taken a peek outside to find out. She wasn't exactly too keen on seeing Buffy at breakfast with the others after their little blowup last night, and, deep down, she was more than a little nervous about the idea of looking for Spike at the breakfast table just to find that he'd skipped town the night before. So, she decided to spend that time in her room, working out and cutting loose. If she had walked around with anymore of this aggression and anger churning up inside her without some release, she was going to hurt someone. Badly. And Lord knew she didn't want to have that on her head again. She was just grateful that her roommate Andrew, who seemed to have taken a liking to her and Spike, had seen to it to bring her over a stack of pancakes, a fruit salad, orange juice and a few bagels to tide her over. The kid might have been a weirdo, but he wasn't that bad, it seemed.
So focused on her workout was Faith that she almost didn't register the small knock on her open door. But her ever-sensitive Slayer hearing picked it up. Thinking it was Andrew, who had continued to make little trips back and forth between their room to drop off extra food, she smiled as she turned to face her visitor. "Andrew, look, the food is great, but I've gotta watch this girlish fig-"
But it was not Andrew standing in the doorway. Not unless Andrew suddenly decided to have a sex change to make himself look like Buffy.
"Um, hi," Buffy greeted, awkwardly, and somewhat quietly. In one hand, she held a bag of donuts.
Faith's face fell, her brief smile replaced by a scowl. Definitely not the person she wanted to see right now.
"Oh. You." At that cold greeting, the dark-haired Slayer rolled her eyes and returned to wailing on the tackling dummy.
That greeting made Buffy want to throw up her hands, say "I give up" and exit stage right, but she held fast. She and Faith weren't best pals, but she was determined to show that she could be mature about this whole rivalry thing. Besides, deep down, she acknowledged that perhaps she was kinda unfair with Faith the night before. She had been trying to help, and she really was making some kind of effort to show that she belonged with the Good Guys these days. But between their past, the thing with Faith and Spike and the barbs thrown Buffy's way about Angel's…whatever…with Cordelia, and it made for some things said by both sides that probably shouldn't have been said. Which would make this awkward reconciliation attempt all the more difficult.
"So…uh, you missed breakfast," Buffy tried to make small talk. "People were asking about you. Figured I'd come up and-"
"And hurl more high school crap at me that you didn't get to say to me last night?" Faith cut her off, still punching away at the dummy. "Go ahead, Blondie, I've heard worse."
Buffy winced. Okay, Buffy, just be the bigger woman. You can do this…
"Actually, I was going to offer you donuts. Angel suggested it, something about you having a sweet tooth, but…look, about last night," Buffy tried again clumsily, shaking off that barb. She knew that despite all their differences, Faith truly did deserve an apology.
"I…well…things got out of hand last night." She looked down, feeling a bit of shame as she replayed the events of the night before in her head. "I was tired, I was mad, more than a little frustrated, and a giant horn-headed rock demon had just finished playing a good solid round of 'Whack-A-Mole' with me and my friends being the moles. So, maybe I was a little on edge and…and I said some things that I shouldn't have said."
At that, Faith ceased her workout and turned around, arms crossed, as she faced Buffy, the Boston-born girl's face stoic, hard. Buffy let out a sigh, before her pretty face became apologetic, solemn. "Look, Faith…I crossed some lines, you crossed some lines. But, I guess I'm the one who started it all. I was out of line. And…and I owe you an apology."
Still not getting anything from Faith, Buffy pressed on, offering a small smile. "So…are we…are we cool?"
Faith took it all in, nodding for a moment, and then answered in a simple word.
"No."
With that, the dark-haired Slayer resumed hitting the tackling dummy, ignoring the stunned look on Buffy's face.
"Excuse me?" Buffy asked, offended.
Stopping her training, Faith turned around and looked at Buffy, an unmoved look on her gorgeous facial features. "I think I just covered that with the word 'no,' B."
Flabbergasted, a stunned Buffy protested, "I just apologized, Faith, what else do you want from me?"
"See, that's just it," Faith tersely replied. "It's this obsession you've had about me still wanting things from you. Hate to break it to you, B, but not all things in my world are centered around you. I came here to help out Angel. My friend, my only friend in this whole stinkin' world. I risked my neck—literally—for him, I've had your back since the moment I got to Sunnydale and even helped keep your kid sister from becoming a midnight snack two nights ago, and yet, according to you, because I decided to cut loose and have a little fun with the wrong guy, suddenly I'm a dirty whore who isn't worth a damn that could stab you in the back at any minute. Not exactly something you can take back with a weak-ass apology and a bag of donuts, Oh Glorious Leader."
Now Buffy was starting to feel her anger rise.
"You know, I really didn't have to come here. And part of me didn't even want to-"
"All the more reason why your apology is full of shit," Faith coldly cut her off.
"But I'm trying to make up for what happened last night, only you're not even letting me have a chance to explain!" a flustered Buffy snapped.
Faith, getting more irritated by the second, was having none of it, her voice lashing back at the older Slayer like a whip. "There's nothing to explain, Summers. You explained all you needed to last night."
As Buffy's caustic words reverberated in her head from the night before- "You don't know what real love is." "You don't even know how to love." "And that just eats away at you, doesn't it?" "I've lived…and you? You've just existed."- the anger in Faith's eyes died down, a sort of sad, yet resentful resignation clouding them.
Her next words were muttered quietly. "That's what you really think of me. Which is fine. You're not the first to think I was a piece of trash, probably won't be the last."
Something in that tone melted Buffy's anger. Seeing the disappointment, the sadness in Faith's eyes, gave her pause. Taking pity on her, Buffy tried once again to mend things between them. "Faith…"
But Faith was not one to take anyone's pity. Raising her hand, she cut off Buffy's apology, instead fixing her a hard look, her dark brown eyes boring into the blonde Slayer. "Just answer me this, B: did you really decide to come here by yourself? Or did you let Angel's baby brown eyes talk you into it?"
"…" Buffy was speechless, her slightly open mouth closing shut. The guilty body language was all that Faith needed to confirm her suspicions
"I thought so," Faith said, shaking her head. "Look, I don't want your apology and I sure as hell don't need it. But there's someone around here who does. Spike. Well, assuming he's still here and not hauling ass outta Dodge."
That got Buffy's attention real fast. "What?"
"Oh, right, guess you didn't hear," Faith said, her tone in her voice acidic. "After you ripped his heart out last night, dude was so upset that he was halfway gone. Found him packing up his stuff. Had to talk him out of splittin', because we need him. And because I..."
Off the startled—and somewhat suspicious—look that Buffy threw her way, Faith halted herself. Because she what, exactly? What was it about this whole Spike thing that made things so damn confusing, threw her off so much, made her so…so…vulnerable?
Faith let out a sigh, explaining it as best she could. "…because I know more than a little about what it feels like to get kicked to the curb by someone who you care about."
Buffy took all of this in, almost at a loss for words. Would Spike really try to leave like this? Now, in the middle of what could be the fight of her life, for all of existence? She knew Spike was hurting; she could easily see in her mind the broken, torn-up look on his angled features when she broke his heart last night, when she was honest about her feelings for Angel.
Spike was always one to be ruled by his emotions first, Buffy knew that. It was Classic Spike. He was primal that way, act and react first, consider the consequences later, if even then. But at the same time, she knew that he had changed over the last few years. She'd seen it for herself. There was more to Spike now than just selfish reasons of just sticking around for the girl, she knew there was. Buffy knew that deep down, he cared-truly cared-for not just her, but for Dawn, and Willow and the others. He wouldn't just turn his back on them now, when they needed him most, when they needed all the help they could get, when everything was at stake…would he?
"Spike really…tried to leave?" she asked, quietly, disbelievingly.
"Hell, for all I know, he's probably gone already, even though I made him promise to at least stick around until breakfast," Faith responded, shrugging, looking away briefly to try and hide the disappointment in her eyes at the thought.
Returning her gaze to Buffy, the former rogue Slayer continued, speaking as bluntly and matter-of-factly as only Faith could. "Either way, do yourself a favor, B. If you want to give somebody an apology, go talk to Spike. God knows you sure as hell owe him one. But this time, you'd better come up with something a hell of a lot more sincere than the steaming pile of crap you just gave me. Because if he really does end up leaving after I pulled him off the ledge because you said the wrong damn thing again? Then that's on your head, girlfriend. Not mine."
The urgency of the situation hitting her like a ton of bricks, Buffy bolted without another word, hurriedly running off to find Spike, hopefully before he could walk out the door for good.
The sight should have brought Faith some reassurance that things with Spike would be alright, but realizing that Buffy didn't always have a knack for saying the right thing at the right time herself, the brunette beauty only snorted, shook her head and made a rather pessimistic prediction of what was about to happen between Buffy and Spike.
"She is sooo gonna screw this up."
Abandoned Factory – Five Miles Outside the L.A. City Limits
Pre-Dawn Hours
C-c-c-CRACK!
The sound and the sight of a simple stone crumbling in the hands of Jasmine/The First brought her an odd sense of fascination.
Granted, it wasn't nearly as satisfying as hearing the crack and the last gasping sound that came with putting its hands around the throat of an innocent, or the wet snapping of bone that would come by driving its foot into the ribs of a valiant hero-in particular, that accursed Buffy Summers and that damned vampire lover of hers, Angel-but still, after eternities floating around incorporeal between the dimensions, unable to touch or taste, it was nice to feel something for a change.
The sounds and sights it desired to see-the sight of that blonde Slayer bloodied and battered, gasping, with its hand around her throat, her pummeled and bruised Angel beneath its heel staring up helplessly at its triumph amid the bodies of their dead friends and murdered Potentials strewn everywhere flashed before its eyes-would come soon enough.
After all, the First thought as it stared at the dust of the rock sifting through its olive-skinned, steel-like hands, patience is a virtue. And I've had a very long time to wait.
Its thoughts were interrupted by heavy, lumbering stomping entering the room. Outside, dozens of Bringers stood guard. Ah, Jasmine/the First smirked. My pet's come back with a treat.
"Well?" Jasmine/the First looked on expectantly at the Beast. "What news from the witch?"
"The irritating human sorceress appears to have located the Keystone," the Beast spoke of Amy Madison. And not a moment too soon, in its eyes. The sight of her exchanging kisses with that repulsive, skinned Warren-creature was unsettling, even to him. It took the Beast threatening to rip out Warren's entrails for Amy to refocus on her locator spell to find the missing Keystone his master had so been coveting. "It is in the possession of Angelus and his allies. Shall I muster a force to strike and retrieve it, my Master?"
To the Beast's surprise, Jasmine/The First flashed a dark, pleased smile, a humorless chuckle falling from her/its lips as she/it turned around and paced forward slowly, pondering the news. It would have thought that his master would have been distressed by this turn of events, having the key to the Eye of Creation in the hands of their greatest enemy. Instead, his master seemed almost…welcoming…of this grave news.
"Not…yet," Jasmine/The First said, her/its wicked mind considering her/its next move. "We move at sunset."
The Beast frowned, unable to comprehend its master's motives. "Apologies, my master, but would we not be best served to strike during the daytime? When Angelus and the other vampire I hereof are most vulnerable and the element of surprise is with us?"
"I'm not going for surprise, sweetie," Jasmine/The First replied, a predatory grin on her/its face. "I'm going for shock and awe. I want the Slayer to be at her best. I want Angel at his peak, and I want Spike, Faith and Willow to be all in on the game. Let them bring their best. Let the heroes make their stand in all their glory, guns blazing, swords shining, hearts full of hope and determination. I want them to stand a chance, I want them to fight, to believe, to hope..."
She/it swiveled slowly around, brown eyes meeting the sickly yellow irises of the horned creature.
"…and then, I'll be there." Her/its eyes glowed crimson red. "And I'll look into the Slayer's pretty green eyes and show her and that damned Angel what it feels like…when hope dies."
"Hope…never cared much for that emotion," a female figure said dismissively as she stood cloaked in the shadows next to The First alongside another figure, a male.
"Oh, I disagree, sister," the male responded, with a chuckle. "Hope is quite a lovely emotion…so frail, so puny. So fun to crush before you rip out a human's heart."
The First/Jasmine smiled. It/She had a feeling these two she recruited days ago were going to be terrific assets to her cause. "I trust you won't mind making another trip after arriving from halfway across the globe only a few hours ago? These particular enemies of ours are rather…resilient. You'll need your full strength to fight them."
"Oh, on the contrary, we've never felt stronger," the female assured The First/Jasmine. "After all, it's not everyday that the Father of All Demons calls us into service. Having a chance at bringing about the evolution of the universe without mankind is simply too good to pass up. But the opportunity to also wipe out The Slayer and settle the score with Angel and that damned Spike?"
The figures' eyes glowed green as they moved from the shadows…revealing a smirking Pearl and Nash, standing regally in stylish attire they raided from a delightful designer clothes store after killing all the employees there hours ago.
"Some things you find the strength for," Pearl grinned wickedly, her deadly fist crackling with green energy.
Nash's smile was equally ominous. "Some things…are just to die for."
TBC…
Note: For More on Pearl & Nash, check out the Angel and Faith comics series!
Next: Buffy and Spike have a heart-to-heart talk. Will Buffy's words change Spike's mind about leaving, or will they seal his exit for good? After months of questions, Angel and Cordelia clear the air on where they stand. But with The First ready to make its move, will our heroes even survive to make it to Sunnydale?
Hi! Next chapter coming soon, remember to please read and review!
-Jean-theGuardian
