Once Removed
Title: Once Removed (Working title, I’m open for suggestions)
Author: Eleni Angel
Rating: R (Violence, Language, etc.)
Spoilers: This Year’s Girl, The Prodigal
Summary: Buffy gets hit over the head during one of her fights and can’t
remember anything, who she is, what she is, and who the people are in her
life. But there’s this dark man haunting her dreams, and her desire for him
is growing by the night. Meanwhile, Riley can’t understand what’s wrong with
his girlfriend. She was fine until she came back from her patrol, unable to
remember who even he was, and now she’s talking in her sleep about some an
Angel. He could only think that this man might be the key to her remembering,
but will he accidentally re-invoke things that never should have been stirred?
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and am in no way affiliated with Mutant Enemy
Productions, Joss Whedon, 21st Century Fox, and all of the other corporations
involved with the writing, producing, and airing of Buffy the Vampire Slayer
or Angel the Series.
Feedback: Amadee9724@cs.com any suggestions would be most appreciated.
It was a cool autumn night. The sky was clear; there was little wind that
wasn’t a soft breeze shaking the faded leaves on deadened tree limbs. It was
peaceful in this small town of Sunnydale, or so you were taught to think.
The unmistakable noise of someone in the middle of a fistfight was accompanied
by the sound of crunching leaves and breaking twigs. A small blonde girl was
fiercely battling with two hellish creatures the likes you’ve never seen before.
A vampire, both of them and one was picking up a big stick. And with a mighty
blow, the small blonde girl went down, sliding into oblivion. For you see,
she was the Slayer, one girl in all the world chosen to fight things like
this, demons, vampires, evil. And she often risked her life on such quests,
always emerging victorious. But this time, as she lay slumped on the ground,
her enemies fled in terror of what would happen to them for touching Angelus’
girl.
Buffy’s eyes slowly opened, blinking in the bright light of the hospital
room where she lay. “Where am I?” she asked groggily. A cute blonde boy and
a girl with violent red hair hurried over to her.
“Buffy, thank God,” the girl said in relief. Her face scrunched in confusion,
Buffy?
“Who’s Buffy? Who are you? What am I doing here?” she knew she sounded frantic,
a feeling that somehow she knew she hated, but it was difficult to understand
what was going on. The only thing she knew for sure was that she should
have an enormous headache, but she didn’t. And there should be all kinds
of monitors and bandages, but there weren’t. “Am I dead?”
“Far from it,” the girl assured. “I’m Willow and this is Riley. You just
sit still, I’m going to go see if we can find out what’s wrong.”
“Wrong? Something’s wrong?” she asked in alarm. The girl smiled and left
her alone with the boy who smelled odd, and made her uneasy. She squinted,
looking him over. “You’re not him,” she said finally.
“What?” he asked.
“I feel like there’s someone, who’s supposed to be here, you’re not him,”
she answered. “Someone who comes when I’m in trouble. I can’t place it.”
Willow came back into the room with a doctor, who examined her, using a
penlight to look in her eyes. “So what’s wrong?” Riley asked, nervous from
her earlier statement.
“I believe she may have acute amnesia,” the doctor said. “In time it may
go away, but with cases like this, you never can tell. Anything can trigger
a memory, a sight, a smell, a person, and a sound. Just surround her with
things from her past life, but take it easy, it could traumatize her more.”
“Could there be a reason for her repressed memory?” Willow asked quietly.
“Anything that has cause stress in her life in the past year or so could
have been the reason,” the doctor said. Willow bit her lip nervously. “And
in her attempt not to remember the event, she’s blocked out everything else.
Why?” Images flashed before Willow’s eyes, Buffy crying in her arms before
prom over Angel, Buffy dancing with Angel, Buffy looking after his retreating
back with a look of utter longing on her face.
“No reason,” she said quietly. The doctor left quietly, and Willow turned
back to Buffy.
“So when can I get out of here?” she asked with a weak smile. It caused
Willow to grin widely, a soft chuckle to escape her lips.
“What?” Riley asked.
“She hates the hospital,” the redhead explained to the blonde man.
“Excuse me if this sounds weird, but how do I know you two?” she asked them.
“I’m one of your two best friends,” Willow explained. “You met me halfway
through your sophomore year when you transferred to Sunnydale High. Our other
best friend is Xander Harris; he’s busy with his girlfriend Anya at the moment.
Your name is Buffy Summers.” Buffy yawned softly, blinking her eyes against
the exhaustion. Willow smiled again. “Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll
come back later.” But she was already asleep before Willow finished. Riley
dragged her out into the hallway. “What’s wrong?”
“When I was talking to her earlier, she studied me for a few minutes and
then said I wasn’t him, when I asked her what she meant, she said that there
was someone missing that should be here, that was always there when she was
in trouble,” Riley said. “Did she mean Xander or Giles?” Willow clapped a
hand over her mouth.
“Oh God,” she said softly. She looked at Riley. “Okay Riley, here’s the
truth because you do deserve it. She said something to me before, that you’d
said something about a good looking guy who’d done her wrong?” Riley nodded,
not quite sure where it was going. “When you met Buffy, she was coming off
a very nasty breakup, and I don’t mean Parker. She was involved with this
guy for nearly four years, but he left her because he wanted her to have
a better life. I’m sorry Riley, but she loved him more than anything, and
it was agony for her when he was gone, it tore her up so badly she didn’t
speak for months.”
“Is this the painful trigger that the doctor mentioned might have happened?”
Riley asked.
“Possibly,” Willow replied. “It could be one of many things that have happened
to her.”
“Do you mind?” Riley asked. “I’d like to stay with her for a while.”
“Sure,” Willow conceded, ducking and leaving. Riley crept back into her
room, watching her thrash as she slept and feeling a deep pity in his heart.
No one should ever have had to go through what was and had happened to her.
He could have sworn that she moaned the word Angel a few times before he’d
gone to her dorm room. Willow had long since moved in with Tara, and Buffy
was rooming with him. He felt wrong about it, but he went through her things
in search of something about this missing man, maybe he might be able to fix
his darling Slayer. In her desk, he found a sketchpad he wished he’d never
found. There were dozens of drawings of all sizes and intensity, all of a
man with dark hair and expressive eyes. However the few that shocked him
were of the same man with his face twisted into the snarling visage of a
vampire.
She was literally obsessed with this vampire. And then he spotted the name
at the bottom, scrawled with a few words: My only love sprung from my only
hate. The vampire’s name was Angel. It clicked with what she’d moaned in the
hospital. There was an address and number absently doodled at the top of
the page. He carried it over to the bed, sat and began punching in the digits.
“Angel Investigations, helping the helpless,” said a pleasant voice.
“Yes, um, this is Riley Finn,” he said, his mouth feeling like it was full
of dry cotton. “I need to talk to someone named Angel, it’s about Buffy Summers.”
“Uh yeah,” the woman said. “I’m not sure how he’s going to take it, but
I’ll connect you.”
“Please, she’s in the hospital,” Riley pleaded. He heard the click as the
line was switched over to another. And then a very deep, velvety voice came
at him.
“This is Angel.”
For a moment, Riley couldn’t speak. But then he gathered his courage and
spoke. “This is-“ he started to say.
“I know who you are,” the vampire cut him off. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s Buffy, she was hit over the head or something on patrol and she has
amnesia,” Riley explained. “She doesn’t remember anything, not even her own
name, and the doctor mentioned something about showing her familiar things.
I’m going to have to admit that I know nothing about you other than you and
she used to date for a while, no one knows I’m doing this, but I want to help
her in anyway I can.” There was a soft sigh.
“You want me to come to Sunnydale,” the vampire stated.
“She needs help, she doesn’t even remember being the Slayer,” Riley said
urgently.
“Okay kid, I’ll be there in a few hours,” Angel conceded. He hung up without
a further word, staring in silence at how miserable his life had become since
he’d left the love of his life alone to face the demons of the darkness.
Cordelia popped her head into his office.
“Everything okay Boss? You have major Buffy face,” she said. She watched
as Angel started, looking at her with a dazed expression.
“She’s in the hospital,” he said hoarsely. “She has amnesia.”
“So it’s Big-Angel-Shaped Band aid time?” the actress asked. Angel’s head
shot up in confusion. “Are you going?” He nodded briskly.
“I told Captain Farm-Boy I’d be there in a few hours,” he replied.
“That’s what Xander and Spike call him,” she said in amusement.
“From what I know, Xander hasn’t liked any of Buffy’s boyfriends,” Angel
corrected.
“He didn’t mind Scott so much I guess,” Cordelia said, deep in thought.
“He was the one that she had when you were still in hell and she’d just come
back from where ever it was she’d run away to. But he dumped her because she
was ‘distracted’, i.e. still in love with you.”
“Did you want to come?” Angel asked quietly. “Wes too?” Cordelia recognized
his face, she hated this expression, it was one of utter sadness due to wanting
Buffy.
“Forget about Finn,” she said softly. “Buffy loves you, Angel, she wouldn’t
have tried to keep you so hard if she wasn’t head over heels in love with
you. Even in high school, she didn’t want normal boys; she wanted you, and
only you, because you understood where she was coming from. You understood
about the darkness plaguing her life.”
“And for some of that you were channeling her?” Angel teased, raising an
eyebrow. She scowled at him, and he closed his eyes lightly. “Yeah, I know
she cares about me, but she deserved something outside of demons and darkness,
some light in her life like I had gotten the minute she stepped into mine.”
“You were her light, Angel,” Cordelia corrected. “All the times I’ve seen
her, and she’s only looked happy when she’s with you.” She smiled at her friend.
“Well, I always have a bag packed in case we meet a really nasty demon, besides,
I can just take clothes from Little Miss Blondie’s closet, she always let
me before.”
“Do you want to call Wes, or should I?” Angel asked.
“I’ll call, you need to pack,” she demurred. Angel nodded and then went
down to his apartment, grabbed a bag from his dresser and then began to throw
clothes in it. A photo of Buffy on his dresser caught his eye, they had been
so happy when it had been taken, she was smiling playfully at him as he stood
behind the camera. He weakly tried to stop staring at it as he packed his
things, but he failed. Only the time and the urgency that she needed him tore
him away when he heard Wesley come in.
All things considered, he was going home. No place on earth had ever felt
more like home than in Sunnydale, where he held Buffy tightly in his arms
and promised her the future he knew they could never have. The place where
on one perfect night, he’d had no closer hope of heaven as he’d taken her
mind, body and spirit. The home of the only woman he’d ever loved the one
who looked past his face and into his eyes, at his soul, his poor tortured
soul. The place where one of God’s angels had entered his life, just when
he thought he was beyond caring, and had wept for him. Not because he was
a monster, but because of the pain he felt at what he truly was. The place
where all boundaries were pushed and broken because a vampire had fallen madly
in love with one of the Light’s fiercest warriors, the Chosen One, the Slayer.
“Yo Angel, you coming?” Cordelia’s voice cut through his thoughts. He picked
up his bag and walked up the stairs. Yes, he was truly coming home.
The walls of Sunnydale General were a sterile white, drab, but practical
for a building that hadn't expected to be in much use. Boy, were they ever
wrong. This had to be one of the busiest hospitals in the world. People came
in almost every night with ruptured neck wounds that no one could explain,
and that no one cared to check in to. There was a group of people that ended
up here more than anyone else, they were very dear and caring people. They’d
even won the favor of all the doctors and nurses, allowing their absolute
invisibility from prying eyes when the blonde girl who was always almost dead
upon arrival, would leave in less than three days, unmarked by the accidents.
Doctor Sara Walsh had come to Sunnydale not long after the death of her
twin sister Maggie, the Initiative needed a good leader, and so she was that,
along with being a doctor on the side. Medicine was her passion, and here
there was an abundance of people to help. There was a small blonde girl that
was in here almost every week with one injury or another, Sara had never approached
the girl, but now she was in with a blow to the head and amnesia. But for
some reason, she’d never been hooked up to any of the usual machines. Perhaps
she was some sort of demon or something, but she’d seen Riley Finn with her
several times. Finn had been one of Maggie’s pet soldiers, her favorite, and
so Sara dismissed any of her thoughts.
Angel walked into the hospital with a faint lightness in his heart, he was
going to see her again, be able to touch her, to hold her, even if she didn’t
remember who he was. A smiling nurse led him straight to her room, they knew
exactly who he was someone that was deeply in love with the little blonde
girl, he was always with her when she was hurt. A thousand and one memories
washed over him as he walked into her room and saw her sleeping on the stiff
hospital bed, the pink blanket folded tightly under her chin. When the horror
of the situation hit him, he kissed her gently on the forehead and took her
hand in his. “God baby, what did they do to you?” he asked hoarsely.
A pair of crystalline blue eyes looked back at him as her eyes slowly slid
open. She gave him a hard, scrutinizing look before her eyes widened and she
gave a soft gasp. “It’s you,” she said in surprise. “I know you, but not
your name.”
“It’s Angel,” he answered, kissing her hand gently.
“Pretty name,” she replied, and then she blinked as a flashback hit her
like ton of bricks, arguing with this man in what seemed like a mausoleum.
“Why do I have the feeling we argued a lot?” she asked warily.
“We did,” Angel answered. “But not as much as Xander and Cordelia, two friends
of ours.” She smiled at the very handsome man. For some reason she felt lost
in the depths of his chocolate brown eyes, and she felt weak at the sight
of his lopsided smile.
“You said ours,” she said finally. “There’s this blonde guy who says yours.”
“I say that because they are your friends, and my friends,” Angel replied.
“We’ve been through a lot together, and Riley doesn’t know them that well.”
She scrunched up her face.
“That’s his name? Riley?” she asked in horror.
“Well my name is Angel, yours is Buffy, you’ve got friends named Willow,
Oz, Xander, Anya, Cordelia, Wesley, and Rupert,” Angel said in a teasing tone.
“Point taken,” she said with a giggle. “Don’t diss the names.” She sobered
not a second later. “So tell me about me,” she suggested. “What’s my favorite
color? What do I like to eat? You know, the easy stuff.”
“Okay,” Angel said, kissing her hand again. “Your favorite colors are blue
and black, you like to eat nachos with fake cheese, pizza, and mocha-chinos.
You were born in Los Angeles, you are twenty years old, and your parents’
names are Joyce and Hank Summers. They split up when you were fifteen, and
your mother brought you here. You met most of your friends at Sunnydale High,
within the first few days you were there. Rupert Giles is a very dear friend
of yours, he’s an older guy, your mentor that you consider a father-type figure.”
“So how did I meet you?” she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes.
“I was following you on your way to a club one night, you turned into a
dark alley, and I followed,” Angel said with a slight smile. “You knocked
me on my ass.” She gave him a once over that made Angel’s spine tingle.
“And I must’ve been insane if I let you up,” she retorted. She frowned at
the pain in his eyes, swallowing nervously, she squeezed his hand. “What?”
“I didn’t give you a choice,” he said softly, his face was so raw with emotion
that it brought fresh tears to her eyes. She had a feeling that not only
did she know this man, but she loved him more than anything else she held
dear.
Buffy was released from the hospital on the following night, there was nothing
more they could do for her but hope that she would eventually regain her memories.
To Riley’s dismay, she seemed to only want to spend time with Angel, vetoing
his dinner and a movie for quiet talks with the vampire. Many times he wondered
if maybe he’d made a mistake in bringing Angel here, and the cost he would
probably pay would be Buffy’s heart. It was like being around him was painful
to her for some reason. Angel spent much of his day with Buffy, carefully
telling her bits and pieces about her life, and at night he patrolled the
town, searching for vampires that would eagerly take this absence of the
Slayer to kill innocent humans.
She didn’t know why she felt safe with the man who exuded danger like air,
the man called Angel, but she did. She had never felt safer anywhere else
then by his side as he talked with her over endless hours and cups of tea,
the sound of his deep, velvety smooth voice lulling her away from the fear
that she might never remember. She didn’t know why she felt this strong urge
to hold him tightly to her and protect him from something, but she did. And
she didn’t know why she’d balked at his orders to stay inside after dark,
but she did, and that’s why she was out walking around right now, in the
shadows of night. It came easy to her for some reason, the ability to comply
with her wish to move like the wind, to make no sound as her feet carried
her over the ground.
She was in a cemetery, the sign overhead said it was called Restfield. She
didn’t know why she was here, or why she felt like she belonged here, among
the dead. She heard someone struggling and had an urgency that she had to
do something rise swell like a fire within her. Her feet carried her over
uneven ground, and the sight that greeted her was like something out of a
Steven King novel. A man was clawing his way out of the grave in front of
her; his face twisted horribly, a dead man that was yet alive. She gave a
soft cry when he lunged at her and parried his attack, finding that she knew
what to do, she pulled out a sharp piece of wood and jammed it into his heart.
She was at first horrified at what she’d done, she’d just killed a man, but
then he burst into a cloud of ashes with an inhuman scream.
This was familiar, so very familiar. Buffy sank to her knees as the memories
flooded back to her. She found herself crying, as Angel was sucked into hell,
afraid when she nearly followed, and frightened again when she saw him, alive.
She remembered it all, even the day that Angel had left her, not twenty-four
hours after feeding from her blood. Her body was wracked with sobs as her
heart tried to deny what her mind remembered. “It’s not true,” she whispered.
“It can’t be true.” She only cried harder when the day that never was flashed
before her eyes. It couldn’t, no this couldn’t happen. Her real life could
NOT be this unhappy.
“Buffy!” he shouted her name as if his life depended on it. He only love
was on her knees, sobbing in the graveyard, next to a fresh grave, a stake
clutched tightly in her fist. His heart broke when she looked up at him, her
eyes so full of sorrow that it masked everything else. One thought filled
his mind, she remembered, and she wasn’t happy.
“Please tell me this isn’t my life,” she pleaded with him, tears streaming
in steady tracks down her face. He said nothing, only pulled her into his
arms and rocked her gently. “I can’t be this, there’s no way that my life
can be like this. Please tell me I didn’t feel your heartbeat.” The last sentence
was spoken so softly, so sadly that it pulled at Angel’s heart, and then
he realized what she’d said. He pulled back to look at her in wonder. “I
felt your heart beat,” she whimpered sadly, shaking with her cries.
“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,” he murmured soothingly as he held her, stroking
her hair, her back, her face. “I’m so sorry, I only did what I thought was
right.” He pulled back, framed her face with his large hands, and wiped away
her tears with his thumbs. Her small, soft, shaking, pale hands covered his,
caressing his hands as they held her face, kept her from falling apart.
“I understand,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a minute, and then opening
them again to find him in tears as well. “I don’t agree with you, but I understand
your reasoning.” They both chuckled miserably.
Riley had taken to following Buffy when she went out at night, watching
to make sure that she was okay and safe from the creatures that stalked the
night. Tonight, she’d slain a vampire, causing the memories to come falling
back into place. Just when he was about to go take his rightful place by her
side, Angel had already swooped in and was holding her like a lifeline for
himself, rather than trying to comfort her. But he displayed such tenderness
with her and she with him, that Riley once again doubted his decision to bring
the vampire here, but it was too late, and he’d opened the floodgate. Now
he had to be prepared to take the consequences of his decision. No matter
how awful they would turn out to be.
He turned and quietly walked off into the night, missing the happiness that
shown in his girlfriend’s eyes as she looked at a man she hadn’t seen in a
year, and had spent seven days getting to know all over again. He walked back
to his dorm room, sitting on the bed, preparing to flounder in his own anguish.
With one felled move, Angel swept Buffy up into his arms and carried her
back to the mansion where she’d been staying, Cordelia and Wesley not too
far off in case of a problem. They were both inside, arguing over some articles
in the paper when Angel sauntered into the room. “What’s wrong?” Cordelia
asked. “Did something happen?”
“Staked a vampire,” Buffy suggested.
“Hey, you remember,” Cordelia said happily, then she thought better of it.
“Don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Buffy said sadly. “I remember the weirdness that is me.”
“So then why is he carrying you?” Wesley asked.
‘I was crying,” Buffy replied. “He was born the eighteenth century, it’s
in his breeding to help a damsel in distress.”
“I hate to break up this moment,” Angel said apologetically. “But Buffy
and I have to talk.” His friends nodded, and he carried her into his bedroom,
sitting her down on top of the soft coverlet. She stared at him with eyes
that burned as he paced the room nervously.
“I’m not mad at you for what you did,” she said helpfully. “I would have
done the same thing, I really would have.”
“I know,” he said softly. He sank down onto the bed beside her. Her took
her hands in his and held them to his heart. “I’m not sure which is more painful.
That I gave up our happiness because I didn’t want you to die or to know
you would do the same if I were going to die. Maybe they’re both equal.”
“Neither is bad, because neither means we can’t be happy in some other way,”
she replied, her voice filled with the compassion that he loved so much about
her. “I know you told me to make a life for myself, but after examining the
one I’ve made from the bizarest points of view, I don’t like it very much,
you’re not in it.” He leaned into her abruptly, kissing both corners of her
mouth, and then pulling back only centimeters.
“I don’t like mine without you either,” he said softly. And then he kissed
her, gently, like any man would if he was trying to win the affections of
a beautiful girl. But she wouldn’t let him keep it polite, her lips melded
to his with the fire and passion of a thousand suns. Pretty soon, his tongue
was tracing her lower lip, begging to be allowed entrance to her hot little
mouth. When she opened up for him, Angel felt like he was soaring rather than
ravaging the valley of her orifice with his tongue.
Buffy moaned softly as she pressed the tips of her fingers harshly into
his back, pulling him closer. No one could ever effect her like this with
just a simple kiss. She panted slightly as they parted, resting her forehead
against his shoulder. “You make me feel so…alive,” she breathed. “No one
has ever kissed me like you do.”
“I’ve never enjoyed kissing anyone as much as you,” he replied in a husky
voice.
“Can I stay here with you tonight?” she whispered. “I don’t wanna be alone
right now.”
“What would Riley think?” Angel asked, kissing the side of her neck softly.
“I don’t give a damn about what Riley thinks,” she replied. “I care about
what you think.”
He smiled at her, drawing her down with him as he stretched out on the mattress.
“You can stay,” he informed her, shifting so that she could lay her head
on his chest. “If you promise to behave yourself.” She chuckled lightly before
nudging him. Shortly after, they both succumbed to a sleep. Their dreams
took them to where angels feared to tread, their past.
The sound of people moving around outside in the Great Hall roused both
of them in the late morning. They yawned and stretched before grinning at
each other and sharing a brief kiss before pulling themselves together and
leaving the room. Wesley and Cordelia were out there, eating a fast food
type breakfast and reading the paper. “Ah, they wake,” Cordelia said sarcastically.
Buffy and Angel sank into one of the couches, his arms going tightly around
her. “There’s muffins in the bag if you want one.”
“Thanks,” Buffy said, reaching forward to the rumpled white paper bag on
the coffee table, accidentally brushing up against Angel in a very intimate
way. He made a soft, strangled noise, and another when she settled back against
him. “So what are our plans for today?” she asked curiously. They all shrugged
passively. “Well I for one need a good workout.”
“Doesn’t HE give you that?” Cordelia asked with a smirk, nodding at Angel.
“Sometimes,” Buffy answered with a smile, loving the wave of embarrassment
that rushed through Angel. “Mostly he just catches vamps for me to train with.”
“Huh?” Wesley asked.
“Target practice, Wes,” Buffy said with a wicked grin. “Plus whenever I
get a new weapon, I have to use a test subject.” She shifted slightly, stretching
her stiff muscles against Angel and knowing full well what it did to him.
He growled under his breath.
“What’s that grin on your face for?” Cordelia asked. Buffy arched an eyebrow.
“Never mind, I really don’t want to know.”
“Yes, if we could please refrain from public displays of affection, I think
we can all hold our food,” Wesley said. Buffy’s eyes widened.
“Did you just make a funny Wes?” she asked in amazement.
“Yeah, he’s been doing it more and more,” Angel said in amusement. “Ever
since Delia told him to loosen up or she’d fix him up on a blind date.” He
struggled to keep his voice steady as his body stirred to life under Buffy.
She was going to pay for this later.
“Yeah, I’d perk up under that threat too,” Buffy said. “I hate blind dates.”
“Since when have you ever had the need of a blind date?” Angel asked, turning
her face to his with the use of his hand cupping her chin.
“Yeah because having a girlfriend who spends all of her time in the darkness
hunting demons is a real turn on,” she retorted sarcastically. “I’m not exactly
a guy magnet, most of the ones on campus either think I’m a weirdo or a slut,
depends on who you talk to.” A dark, angry look crossed Angel’s face.
“Who called you a slut?” he asked, unable to keep the low growl out of his
voice.
“Parker and his friends for one,” she answered. She shrugged. “I don’t see
what the big deal is anyway, it’s not like I care.”
“I care,” Angel replied.
“Uh oh, watch out ladies and gents, he’s turning into the great protector
again,” Cordelia said, when Angel glared at her, she snickered.
“Still, I want to meet this Parker fellow,” Angel replied. “Give him a few
pointers.”
“Now, that, I think I can arrange,” Buffy said with a coy smile.
That night, the whole group was at the Bronze, Buffy and Angel were tucked
into a dark corner, snuggling contentedly. When their target came wondering
in with a bunch of his friends, they sent Cordelia on her mission. The actress
slowly approached her prey, mentally kicking herself for agreeing to this
assignment, and telling herself how Angel was going to owe her when they
got back to LA. Parker became interested in the gorgeous brunette that was
walking over to them. “Looking for a Parker Averum,” she said in a calm,
even voice.
“I’m Parker,” one of them said. “What can I do for you sweetheart?”
“I have a friend who wants to meet you,” she said. She pointed to where
Buffy and Angel sat, the vampire waved at them. Parker let loose a very
loud gulp. She snatched the boy’s hand. “Come on.”
“Yes, go meet Buffy’s very large boyfriend,” said one of his friends with
a snicker. He grew more and more nervous as they drew nearer, and when he
was sitting across from them, the brunette ducked and covered. As did the
rest of the blonde’s friends.
“That’s him?” Angel asked her in disdain. “I know you know that I don’t
like you flirting baby, but you certainly have lost your taste.”
“Parker, this is Angel, baby, this is Parker Averum,” Buffy said calmly,
introducing them.
“So um, how long have you two been together?” Parker stammered.
“We’ve been married for three years, before that we dated for two years,”
Angel answered. “She enjoys trying to make me jealous for some reason. I’m
just wondering why she picked you of all the people on campus.”
“How come I haven’t seen you before?” Parker asked, gaining some of his
confidence back. The man grinned toothily.
“I’ve been out of town for about a year and a half,” Angel answered. “I’ve
been in Los Angeles trying to fix some problems I’ve had.”
“More like playing detective,” Buffy chided.
“Anyway, so I was wondering who you were, and why for all the reason you
insist on calling her a slut,” Angel said. “Because she’s not, trust me, I
don’t do those types of girl.”
“Hey Dead boy,” Xander called from around the corner. “Is the coast clear?”
“As clear as it will be Harris,” Angel replied. “And if you call me that
again, I’ll go up on stage and use the microphone to announce your middle
name to everyone in the club.”
“Dead boy?” Parker asked in confusion. He highly doubted this man could
be a vampire, vampires didn’t care about anything except blood and carnage.
But then his face shifted and curled into that of a vampire. Scared shirtless,
Parker raced out of the club. A few stunned seconds later, Buffy just laughed
at what had happened.
Later that night, when he was on a new assigned patrol with Riley, Forrest,
and Graham, they ran into a bit of trouble. About two dozen vampires surrounded
them, mad with fear of being caught, the animals were getting restless and
decided to do something about it. Out of the blue, Buffy Summers and that
guy, Angel showed up. “Now I’m going to ask you very politely to leave,” Buffy
said in an even voice that carried to the shadows. “And then I’m going to
get testy. You guys won’t live through testy.”
“Sure thing…Slayer,” one of them stammered nervously, running off into the
bushes.
“Any other takers?” Buffy asked.
“He was a fool,” the leader retorted. “We won’t leave until our vengeance
has been served. They have taken our brethren, and the hunt us each night.”
“So do I,” Buffy replied. “Why gang up on them?”
“They’re not as…durable as you,” the vampire replied. “Not as deadly. They
are many, you are one, and you take more of us in a single night then they
do in a week. You are protected; they are not. You are a great Warrior of
Light; they are mere humans. If we were to kill you, not only would Angelus
be furious, but the gods as well.”
“Yeah, he’s probably right,” Angel said respectively. “I’d probably rip
out their throats and torture them to death if they killed you.”
“But they forget the fact that the Slayer was created for one purpose,”
Buffy replied. “To rid the world of their kind, to protect the human race.”
She pulled out a long silver sword. “Besides, I get a kick out of the battle.”
“I remember,” Angel said with a grin. Buffy spun to face him, her back to
the vampires.
“Shame on you,” she scolded. One stupid vampire rushed her, hoping to catch
her off guard, but she rammed her elbow backwards, tossing him a few feet.
She swung her sword, taking his head. She killed many vampires with a swing
of her sword. She turned to the leader. “I’m giving you one last chance to
flee.”
“I would rather die a thousand deaths than to flee from the Slayer,” he
sneered. Buffy shrugged, taking his head.
“Works for me,” she said as he crumbled into ashes.
“See, now I’m glad you stuck that in my heart, rather than taking my head,”
Angel said thoughtfully, indicating the sword. “I may have been condemned
for three hundred years of torment, but at least I could come back.” Buffy
inspected her weapon.
“I forgot that this is the sword I used,” she mused. She looked up at him.
“Did I mention I was sorry?” she asked meekly. He nodded.
“About a million times,” he replied. “But you did what you had to do.” Parker
was amazed as she continued to battle while calmly talking to the dark vampire
behind her. Single handed, she wiped out almost all of the vampires that had
surrounded them, leaving the one who’d run and about two or three more who
did the same at the end. “Come on,” Angel said when she was finished. “I’ll
buy you some ribs or something.”
“Good, I’m starving,” Buffy answered.
The Pork Pot was not one of Sunnydale’s finest restaurants, but it had a
reputation for having some of the best food in Southern California. There
was an adorable couple that used to come in about every other night. They
were very loving, and the owner’s - as well as the staff - liked them for
their un-intrusive ways. About six months ago, he stopped coming, and the
girl explained that he’d gone on. So the head cook was surprised to see them
both come in with her tucked under his arm. “Hey Mac,” he greeted the cook.
“Long time no see,” Mac replied with a warm grin. “Evening Miss Buffy, the
usual?”
“Since when did you settle down long enough to have a ‘usual’?” Angel asked
curiously, regarding her with interest.
“About two months ago,” she answered. “Side of ribs, fries, and a large
Diet Coke.” She shrugged and smiled at Mac. “Usual would be good Mac.”
“And you?” Mac asked Angel, he didn’t really know his name, thought Angel
was just a nickname or a pet name or something.
“The same,” Angel answered, pulling out his wallet and giving the man his
money before leading Buffy over to what had been their table. When she curled
up against his side, he finally relaxed and quit the situational awareness
that usually surrounded him when she wasn’t with him or even when she was.
No creature on earth would take her on while she was at his side, and vise
versa. It was damned impossible to pick a fight with a Slayer when she’s wrapped
in the protective arms of a man. Factor in that he’d missed her terribly,
and it was hell when she wasn’t near him. He sighed contentedly.
“Nice and peaceful,” she murmured sleepily, nuzzling his side with her chin.
She was going to fall asleep before the food arrived; they both knew it. Then
the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, Angel too felt the
change in atmosphere. They looked up to see Faith standing in front of their
table. She looked shy, but she was not without good reason for it. “You order?”
Buffy asked, her voice muffled against Angel’s side. Faith relaxed, sliding
into a chair.
“Yup,” she replied. “Ribs, fries, Diet Coke.”
“How’s the hunt?” Angel asked nervously.
“Two nests o’ vamps in a week,” she replied. “Can’t complain.”
“Me either. I just got a break from hell,” Buffy said with a grin.
“How? Let me know please? I’d love a break,” Faith pleaded teasingly.
“Got hit upside the head in a fight and woke up with amnesia,” Buffy replied.
She yawned. “Angel came to help.”
“So, are you two all coupley again?” Faith asked, suppressing amusement,
she’d known the vampire couldn’t stay away for long.
“Mmm,” Buffy said happily, a giddy look on her usually passive face. “Remove
the memories, gets happiness back to Buffy’s life. I should thank the vamp
that whacked me.”
“I’d rather kill him,” Angel replied darkly. But he was undeniably happy
too, the happiness that had once been removed from their lives had returned.
End
