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By Theory Queen
[Author's note: I wrote this story as a
favor to a friend of mine in the Buffy chat room. It was meant to please
only the two of us, so if it isn't your cup of tea, don't say you weren't
warned! Still, I had fun with it. Angel, Buffy, et al belong to Joss Whedon,
the Twisted One.]
Angel was finding that his preoccupation
with the slayer was beginning to pall. She still came with the blood every
day, but when she started to chatter about her life and her friends and
all, he found himself stifling a yawn. He realized they had never really
had much in common. She had always seemed so full of life and zest, that
he was afraid of depressing her with his presence. He had before, he remembered,
several times.
With a pang, he realized he didn't
care as much about that as he should have. After all, he'd killed her teacher,
tortured her watcher, and put her and her entire family in horrid danger
for weeks. Surely he at least owed her his attention.
Oh well, he thought, stifling
another yawn as the slayer prattled on. Something more to feel guilty about
later. As if he didn't have enough already! Right now he just wished she
would go. He sighed and realized there was silence. He looked up. Buffy
had an outraged expression on her face.
"What?" he asked.
"You mean to tell me I come here
every day, give you supplies, keep you company, talk to you -- and you
don't even have the decency to listen?" Buffy said angrily.
"Looks that way," Angel said
before he could help himself. He didn't feel like stroking the slayer's
immense ego tonight. He wanted to be left alone to get drunk. He looked
up and smiled, a wide, insincere smile. "Sorry 'bout that."
She got up and stomped out, stopping
to grind her heel into the head of the burned-in silhouette of himself
on the floor of the mansion. Angel laughed. After she was gone, he lit
up a cigarette and drew on it deeply. He exhaled after a moment, the smoke
curling in the air.
"Thought you'd have had enough
of smoke after your summer vacation," said a caustic voice from the doorway.
Angel looked up sharply and groaned.
"Spike."
"In the flesh but not really
at your service," replied the blond vampire as he leaned casually against
the doorframe.
"If you're planning to 'serve'
me with a crowbar again, then I'm just as glad you're not in the mood,"
Angel replied warily.
"Oh now, you had it coming, don't
deny that," Spike said. He came in and sat down, keep a sharp eye on his
sire.
Angel nodded. Spike did have
a point. "How's Dru?" he asked.
Spike shrugged. "Haven't seen
her. She went ballistic on me for attacking you, and she left me. Beginning
of the summer, that was." He got out a cigarette and reached for Angel's
lighter lying on the hearth between them.
"That's my Dru," Angel said with
a half-smile.
Spike tensed for a moment, then
went on and lit up. "Well, it was fun while it lasted, but lately I've
been thinking more about little blondie over there who just left," he said,
deliberately baiting his sire.
Angel rolled his eyes. "Good
luck! Maybe you can keep her from smothering me so much, " he said, greatly
to Spike's surprise.
"What's this, mate? I thought
she had you whipped," Spike asked.
Angel shook his head. "Had, past
tense," he said. Then he brightened. "Hey Spike, let's go out. If you're
not planning to attack me again, that is."
"Well, don't be a jerk-off again
and I won't have to, will I?" Spike asked, "Where are we going?"
"There's this club I know," Angel
got to his feet and grinned. "Your baby Sheila told me about it." The two
men went out.
They got to the club and had
a few drinks. The place was rocking, a real, heavy beat. It was nothing
like the Bronze. This was what he needed, Angel thought as he surveyed
the dark, metallic goth-ness of the place. There was more leather here
than he and Spike owned together! He looked around for Spike, but couldn't
find the tell-tale platinum hair anywhere. He shrugged and ordered another
drink.
A girl caught his eye. She was
sitting at a table with about seven other people, all of whom were getting
up to dance when they felt like it, sitting down when they felt like it,
and generally doing whatever they felt like doing at the time. The girl
was looking at him frequently. She saw his glance and looked away, then
looked back. She saw him still watching her, and blushed.
That's my cue, Angel thought,
picking up his drink and heading over to her. He held her eyes as he approached,
studying her.
Dark brown eyes stared into dark brown eyes. Her hair was brown as well, contrasting sharply with her almost vampire-pale skin. She looked to be around 17 or 18, and she was wearing a short black skirt with a red sweater -- a color combination sure to capture the interest of any vampire. A snatch of a theatre tune ran through his head randomly: "Silk and lace in black and red/will drive a man right off his head, it's easy." Boy, it was the truth. He had to admit that even when he
had been in love with Buffy,
she had never looked this good. Buffy was tiny and blond, where this girl
was tall and dark, with a poise that Buffy had never had. She stood up
as he drew near.
"Hi, I'm Dana," she said. She
indicated an empty chair next to her, recently vacated by a dancing friend.
"Want to join us?"
Angel was feeling in a slightly
reckless mood. He stood a little closer to her than society demanded, and
gave her his best sexy smile. "I'm Angel... and I'd rather have you to
myself. Want to dance?"
Dana got to her feet. Her friend
on the other side nudged her and said, "Hey Dana, who's your friend? More
to the point, who's HIS friend?"
"Introductions later, Teke. Now,
we dance!" Dana said, following Angel onto the floor.
A few dances later, Angel finally
located Spike when he bumped into him on the dance floor. Spike flashed
him a grin. "Man, this is the best club ever!" Spike was dancing with Teke,
the woman who had been with Dana's party. She was shorter than Dana and
had a softer build, with short dark hair and mischievous green eyes...
which were locked on Spike's. Which never left hers either.
"Looks like your friend and my
friend hit it off," Angel smiled charmingly at Dana.
She smiled back. "I hope he knows
what he's in for," she said. "Teke is, uh, sort of outrageous sometimes."
"Oh, that's nothing," Angel scoffed.
"His last girlfriend was completely out of her mind. I'm sure Spike can
handle whatever your friend can dish out." He smiled into her eyes. "So
what about you? Are you with anyone?"
Dana grinned. "You, at the moment."
Angel smiled. This girl intrigued
him. She was so unlike Buffy, yet she carried herself with confidence and
seemed as if she could take care of herself. He realized that if he wasn't
careful, he could accidently turn a temporary attraction into something
more emotional. The smile left his face and he sighed.
Dana must have felt his body
tense up, because she looked puzzled. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," his voice was pained.
"I, uh, should go now. Where did I leave my friend?"
Dana smiled mischeviously. "I
don't know, but I'll be surprised if you can find him. I'll be twice as
surprised if Teke's still around!"
Angel looked around and realized
she was right. He thought to himself, well, things could be worse. He turned
his attention back to the fascinating girl dancing with him. He shrugged
and smiled at her again. "Want to get out of here?"
Dana laughed and said, "You read
my mind!"
Angel took her hand and led her
toward the door. Halfway there, one of the boys who had been in her party
at the table stopped them. "Hey Dana, who's the freak? Where you going
with him?"
"He's an angel, and he's taking
me to heaven, okay, Bill? Now leave me alone!" And Dana stalked off, dragging
Angel behind her. He caught up rapidly, and once outside, he draped his
arm around her shoulders.
"So, Dana, what makes you think
I'm going to take you to heaven?" He asked teasingly. He pushed a strand
of hair back out of her face, and she closed her eyes when he touched her.
She opened them again, and winked
flirtatiously at him. "Call it a premonition," she said.
Angel smiled and they started
walking toward the mansion. Angel slowed down as they neared it, sniffing
the air. "Wait," he said. "Something's wrong." He let go of her hand and
walked alone toward the mansion. When he got close to it, he stopped. "Dru,"
he stated aloud.
The brunette vampiress stepped
out of the shadows, wearing a diaphanous pale blue gown. "My Angel!" she
said happily. "That nasty Spike said you were dead, but I knew better.
You'd never leave me, would you?" She was holding a small bouquet of daisies
in her hands.
"You shouldn't have come back
here, Dru," Angel said stiffly, hoping that Dana was staying put and not
hearing any of this conversation.
No such luck. Dana stood next
to him before he knew it. "Angel, who's the ditz?" She asked.
Drusilla growled. Angel shook
his head. "She's, uh, a psycho-ex," he told her. Drusilla growled louder.
Dana nodded, understanding. "Yeah,
I know what those are like. Want some help?"
"No, kitten, I got it," said
Spike suddenly, as he left the house. His hair was mussed and his shirt
only half-buttoned. Teke followed him out and stood in the doorway, grinning.
"Spike, see? I knew you lied
to me. My Angel's alive." Drusilla chanted in a sing-song voice. She carefully
pulled the heads off the daisies so that she just held stems, with the
blossoms littering the ground around her feet. She came up to Dana and
held out the stems. "Here, sniff?"
Dana just looked disgusted. "Man,
when you say psycho, you really mean psycho, don't you, Angel?"
Drusilla lunged for her, Angel just barely managing to hold her back. Spike strolled forward leisurely buttoning up his shirt the rest of the way. He spied a short branch lying on the ground, and he picked it up. Angel was tussling with Drusilla, with Dana trying to get past him to strike her, while Spike carefully and methodically stripped the branches and twigs off the
branch. Angel lost his grip,
and Drusilla went flying. Dana punched her in the throat as hard as she
could, and Drusilla went down. Spike raised his eyebrows at this. Angel
rolled to his feet and went after them again, then stopped and stood there
to watch.
As Spike broke the branch to
make a smooth, perfectly serviceable stake, Dana was kicking the living
snot out of the crazy vampiress. Thought Drusilla was very strong, Dana
was fast -- and everywhere. Dana had figured out that her kicks and punches
weren't hurting the other woman much, but the sheer volume of them was
proving to be a distraction to her. Drusilla simply couldn't stand up long
enough to get in a good blow on the athletic mortal girl. Angel and Spike
exchanged glances.
"'Ere, send 'er to me," Spike
advised Dana, as he stepped closer to the fight and off to the side so
Dana could get a good push. Unfortunately, Dana didn't see where he was,
and shoved Drusilla, stumbling toward the doorway where Teke was. Drusilla
started to go after the shorter brunette, but Teke calmly kicked her in
the shins and turned her around, shoving her toward Spike. The female vampire
was staked before she knew what had happened, and Spike was dusting off
his hands, heading back into the mansion with his arm around Teke.
"Hey Spike, looks like quite
a girl you've got there," Angel complimented, more to please Dana than
Spike, but he had winced in sympathy a little when the small girl had kicked
Drusilla and sent her on her way.
Spike stopped and turned around.
"Yeah, Angel, you too. Remind me never to get that little poppet pissed-off
at me!" Teke laughed and agreed, and the two disappeared into the depths
of the mansion.
Dana looked warily at Angel.
"Was it just me, or did your ex just disintegrate?" she asked conversationally.
Angel nodded. "Yeah, she was
a real vampire. They always turn to dust when they die," he explained.
Dana smiled and shook her head.
"Ask a silly question..." she said. She put her arms around Angel's neck
and said, "So how about that trip to heaven, 'angel'?"
The vampire flashed his trademark
half-smile. "Right this way," he said, gesturing to the mansion. As they
started up the stairs, he whispered, "But I should probably warn you, don't
make me too happy."
END
