I Didn't Say I Was YOUR Friend: Part 2
by Azreel
The setting and characters of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer are property of Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and maybe some other people I'm missing. This story is only an entertainment piece, and no copyright infringement is intended.
The author reserves full rights over the original characters depicted in the story (but if you want them, drop me a line).
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Part Two
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The vampire had been right; Sunndydale vampires had much sloppier hunting habits than city vampires. Strange, with the Slayer hanging down over them and all. But Angela had been right, too, even a town this size was too big for one girl to patrol all the hunting grounds. Why does she move by night, when we are awake and kicking? He'd faced his fair share of hunters, but most of them worked days, confronting vampires when they were more helpless.
On the other hand, the girl might have an idea there. When he'd wanted to find a vampire, he'd immediately set about to prowl and find one hunting. Vampires were just a little more helpless by day, but they were a hell of a lot more visible by night.
This bloodsucker was a female, young-looking and more than a bit awkward at the hunt. Once she'd almost botched the initial approach, giving the game away before the boy was within striking distance. Careless, very careless.
The vampire watched all this from his rooftop, his enhanced senses effortlessly picking up the conversation. He waited until the girl vampire had the boy almost where she wanted, and then flew down to them. The boy (young, no more than fifteen) took a look at him and ran away. The vampire took care to cover the boy's escape route with his descent, so the girl could not follow.
She had her game face on, and was hissing loudly and angrily at him. Laurent watched her calmly, and noticed that her pose was more guarded than aggressive. Odds were she had never met a flying vampire before.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Was that your dinner?" Laurent said glibly.
"What do you want?" the girl vampire asked him, slipping into her mortal guise again.
"Just socializing. I wanted someone with a handle on this burg's nightlife."
"You're one of us, then. Didn't your sire ever teach you not to interfere with another vampire's hunt?"
Laurent slipped easily into his angry punk stance, the best to impress this kind of youngster vampire. "She might have. In fact, I think she was discussing something like that right before I killed her. Care to continue the lesson where she left off?"
The female vampire took one look at him and let it be. In fact, Laurent was feeling a little guilty now. The girl was young and unexperienced, and she would have to hunt again. With the Slayer in town, hunting in Sunnydale was more than a little dangerous, as he himself could attest. Bottom line was that he'd endangered one of his kind for a boy who meant nothing to him. What gave him the right?
"Perhaps you need to speak with the bosses," the girl vampire said. "Come this way."
* * *
The underground chamber gave Laurent the creeps. It was a perfect summary of the reasons he didn't like his kind. Even the pool of clear water in the center seemed eerie. There was a hanging cage, too, and assorted other torture instruments.
Several vampires were guarding the entrance, but they made no move to stop Laurent or his vampire guide. Perhaps they could smell it on him, his vampire-ness, as he could smell it on them. The thought was unutterably disgusting.
He tried to size up all the vampires inside at a glance, looking for the leader of this brood. There were three of them that seemed to command a lot of respect from the others. And that was really strange, because one of the men was in a wheelchair.
"Well, well," the other man said, the one with dark hair. "Another newcomer to this point of mystical convergence. Do we know you, baby boy?"
That pretty much told Laurent what he needed to know. Some master vampires liked a lot of ritual and pageant, and Laurent could curtsy and kowtow with the best of them. But these ones didn't seem to hold much protocol. They were harsh, vicious. Only a show of strength and courage would get them off his back.
If he could manage. All three of them looked strong.
"Uh, I don't think so," Laurent answered. Great, he thought. Showing a lot of strength and courage there, you dolt.
"I found him while hunting," the girl who had brought him in intervened. "He can fly."
"No kidding, dear," the blond man on the wheelchair replied. "After feeding on someone on an acid trip, I bet he flies like an eagle."
"No, really, he can fly!" the girl insisted.
"Ah... Don't you have something to do, dear? Like, somewhere else?" the dark-haired man said. The girl took the hint and left.
"So, you fly, huh?" the dark-haired man asked, as if the whole idea was preposterous. "Were you planning on staying, or just flying south for the winter?"
"Checking the scene first. Name's Laurent. Actually, I might have thought of staying in your little village here, but I'll be moving on shortly. Stakes puncturing my heart, bad for my health. Doctor said so."
"Stakes?" the dark-haired man chuckled. "I see you've met Buffy."
"Is that her name?" Laurent asked incredulously. "I fear her less already," he exclaimed, and then regretted his words. Wouldn't do to admit fear in front of these bullies.
"She could be called Little Bo-Peep, and still she could wipe the floor with you. Or perhaps not. You faced our local Slayer and survived. Not many of us can boast that distinction."
"Is she the one that got you cowering down here?" Laurent asked, prodding the other a little.
"We're working on her now. Believe me, we are. Besides, no one's got us cowering anywhere. You could say this place's got tradition."
"Didn't have you pegged as a tradition kind of guy," Laurent remarked.
"I might surprise you. Name's Angelus. My friend in the chair is Spike, I hope you'll excuse him if he doesn't rise to greet you. And this little beauty here is Drusilla."
"Charmed," Laurent said, breathing a little more easily. The woman, dressed to kill in a leather miniskirt, walked up to him and placed her hand in his chest. Laurent forced himself to stay immobile, though her touch made his skin crawl.
"He's not like us," the woman said, staring into Laurent's eyes. "He's strong enough, but something... He reminds me of you, Angelus, before you came back!" the woman giggled.
Oh, just dandy, Laurent thought. Another friggin soul-reader like Agnes.
"W-what's she talking about?" Laurent asked, more nervously that he intended.
"My friend Angelus here had a little bout with humanity. His own, I might add. But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" Spike said, watching Laurent with a twinkle in his eye.
"Do you like young girls?" the woman asked, still giggling, but she had walked away from Laurent. "Angelus likes them too. I can't really sense the difference. Don't they all taste about the same?"
And she was crazy, too. Well, that was helpful. Perhaps the men didn't pay much attention to her ramblings.
"A quiet one, aren't you?" Angelus observed. "And you live aboveground, as one of them."
"I suppose there's no crime in that," Laurent replied.
"No, certainly," Angelus said with a faraway look. "I did my share of that, myself. Helping the Slayer against your own kind, now, _that's_ a crime."
"Hey! The girl came at me with intent to kill. I wouldn't help her cross the street."
"We'll see. Listen, we have the Slayer's adress, and the name of her usual hangout. If you stay away from those places, odds are in favor of you not encountering her. If you happen to run across her while she's on patrol, well... we'll miss you."
"And if you have her adress, why haven't you disposed of her? You seem to have enough manpower for that. Hell, I'll help out if you want."
"You stay away from Buffy!" Angelus said, slipping into his vampiric face. "She's mine!"
Laurent refrained from vamping out himself. His vampiric visage was not as impressive as Angelus', and it would have made him appear weak. Keeping his poker face, now, made him appear confident.
"My pleasure, man. If she comes at me with another stake, though, I reserve the right to send her to her reward."
"No! _I'll_ take care of Buffy... in my own time."
"Fine by me. But she nearly killed me last night. It could've been one of your own guys," Laurent raised his voice so that all the vampires in the lair could hear. "It seems that your own time involves getting a few more of you killed."
There was an agreeing murmur through the place, but Angelus turned his game face on all of them and it was quickly sushed. Laurent shrugged, and turned to go. Angelus looked after him.
"There goes a vampire who's just screaming for some attitude adjustment," he concluded.
* * *
Upon reaching the apartment, Laurent went to the fridge and gulped down another bottle of pig's blood. He couldn't keep this up. If he didn't hunt for fresh blood soon, his powers would start to fade. And he needed them pretty badly, with this Slayer and...
He stopped before slurping the last drops from the bottle. He'd come through the front door, not trying to be stealthy about it. Angela hadn't reacted. Laurent looked around the room, noticing the still-on laptop, the unwashed dishes. He started towards the bedroom, stopping just long enough to empty the bottle of blood.
The scene inside the bedroom brought a smile to his lips. The girl had collapsed onto the bed, fully dressed, with the pistol still in her hands.
Laurent walked quietly towards the bed, but the soft noises woke the girl, and she pulled upright with a yell. The vampire, seeing the gun still in her hand, put on a final burst of speed to reach her and take the weapon.
"Uh... ah... Laurent? I thought..."
"No, you weren't thinking. The safety is off on this thing, you dummy! You could've killed yourself!"
"Huh?"
"The _gun_, Angela! The gun I gave you to protect yourself? You went to sleep with a loaded firearm in your hands!"
"Oh... listen, I'm sorry."
"'Sorry' won't cut it when you kill yourself."
"Jeez... what's with you?"
"I'm sorry," he said, dropping heavily on the bed. "I just... it scared me, that's all."
"All right. Let's start over. Melissa answered my mail. She had a lot to say... about everything."
"And I met the village elders. The big boy is quite a piece, goes by the name Angelus. He has two friends, and one of them is an esper."
"Do they know about the Slayer?" Angela asked.
"All about her. They even gave me her name, and said they had an address."
"Well, that's good, because her identity was the one thing Melissa couldn't tell me. First the good news. The Slayer is not that old, it appears that her title is a distinction passed down through the generations. If she looks like a high school kid, she's probably one. Besides, there's only one of them active at all times. Then the bad news. The Slayers are supposed to be fantastic warriors, proficient in al manners of combat, and supernaturally attuned to vampires. And you can't really get rid of them, because when one dies another takes her place."
"Terrific. But at least you get them off your back for a while."
"Melissa gave me a few references on this Slayer, but that was not the biggest part of her 15K repply. She had a lot to say about the town, Sunnydale itself. It's not a sleepy little town as it seems, supernaturally speaking. It seems the original settlers of this town called the site Boca del Infierno, which means..."
"The Mouth of Hell," Laurent put in.
"Oh, yeah, or Hellmouth for short. It's a place where mystical energies converge, where magick is always near the surface. Melissa told me there were a handful of places like that on the entire planet. Some of them, Melissa mentioned Notre Dame in Paris, seem to attract energies which we'd call 'good' or 'positive'. Others just call to any sort of supernatural power. In the case of the Hellmouth, however..."
"It calls to evil."
"Exactly. Demons and the like, and, in the last century, vampires. Melissa ran by me a whole lot of stuff about something called the Harvest, an ancient vampire known only as The Master, and an army of undead preparing for the end of the world. Her list of reference texts was a mile long."
"Okay, that's it. We're outta here."
"Wait, wait. That's not all. According to Melissa, a lot of authoritative references on vampires and some such have been missing for centuries. Some of them can be traced to Southern California, which is not all that surprising, but 'Lissa is certain that quite a few could surface here on Sunnydale... near the Hellmouth. In fact, she traced a volume called the Pagamon Codex to here, and other minor texts to -brace yourself- the Sunnydale High library."
"The library of a high school?" the vampire asked incredulously.
"Three guesses, and the first two don't count."
"Our Slayer _is_ a high school kid. And she must have the support of some school officials."
"But these texts, they are the most ancient and authoritative sources on vampires and vampirism on record. If we can find a cure anywhere, we can find it here."
"Yeah. I suppose I can just walk over to Buffy and say, excuse me, Miss Slayer, can I consult your reference section? This won't take a minute."
"Well, why not? Her job is to stop vampires from being, and you want to stop being one."
"I'll be sure to lay it all down to her while she's pounding the stake through my chest. Only with her strength, it's not gonna take that much pounding. I still think it'd be safer to leave."
Angela just looked at him pleadingly. The vampire slowly exhaled.
"Okay, we'll do it your way," he conceded. "But if we don't get results fast, we're outta here. As much as I'd like to cleanse myself of the hunger, I'm not ready to die at the hands of the Slayer."
* * *
Angela didn't know precisely the way to go about this. Unless this town's Concerned Parents were on tea break, the occult texts that Melissa had listed wouldn't be available to the general public of the library. Perhaps the books had not been asked for by the library at all, and it was all the Slayer's way to mask her paper trail. Well, it was their hottest lead at the moment. She'd beat it until it didn't move anymore.
Her age was an unexpected asset. Amid the rush and bustle of the schoolkids on their way to class, she was invisible. She made a point of picking the best-looking boy in the crowd and asking him where the library was. The boy scarcely looked at her while giving her the directions. In a few minutes, he would be hard-pressed to remember that a girl _had_ asked him for directions, and he wouldn't remember any details about her at all. It had happened before... more times than Angela cared to count.
Angela waited until the late bell rang before trying to follow the boy's directions to the library. She found it without much trouble, and entered before someone decided to pay attention to her.
Once inside, she made a beeline towards the card catalog, trying her best to look as if she knew exactly what she was looking for.
"Can I help you with something?" a kind male voice asked.
Oh... kay. Her invisibility whammy didn't work with the librarian. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the library was absolutely deserted. It would be difficult not to notice the only person with you in a room.
Having been caught in the act, Angela took a few moments to study the surroundings. This library had a special flavor that made it look like the set of a horror film. It was gloomy, even during the day, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves made up a labyrinthine array of narrow passages. Not the place to put you in a studying mood.
"I'm Mr. Giles, the librarian. Have I seen you before?" the man insisted.
He had brown hair, a lean, long face that looked like it didn't smile much, and glasses. He was not that old, and from what Angela could discern under an extremely conservative tweed outfit, he kept himself in good shape.
"Uh, no. I mean, yes. My name is Patricia King, and I'm a graduate of the school. Class of '95. We've met before, but I don't think you remember."
Giles frowned. "I'm afraid I don't, Patricia. So... can I help you with something?"
"I'm going to college now," Angela lied easily. "University of San Francisco."
The librarian's eyebrows arched. U of SF had a reputation for high academic standards. "Congratulations."
"Well, you see, I'm on break now. I'm preparing for a course on Themes on Supernatural Literature, and I remembered that this library had a great occult section. Could I... look for a few sources? I know I'm not a student of the school anymore, but..."
The glint of suspicion in his eyes cleared, as he smiled and gestured at the deserted library. "I think we can spare a place. And, since I'm not doing anything right now, perhaps I can help you look."
"That'd be great," Angela said with a smile. "A friend and I put together a list of references I might find useful."
She gave the librarian a piece of paper. She had put the list together this morning, herself. Mixed among the mostly inocuous books, like fiction and standard occult references, were some more exotic volumes, including most of those that Melissa had traced to this library. They were few enough not to arouse any suspicion... Angela hoped.
The librarian frowned while scanning the list. So much for her hopes. "Most of these books we have right here," he said. "Some others, however, seem like they might take a lot of digging. The common theme seems to be... vampirism?"
"Yes. I was planning on doing my term papers on vampires."
"But I see you want to consult some serious sources along with the popular fiction. This French text here, for example, is a revision of a very ancient volume. Do you read French?"
"I've taken French, and can hold my own with Latin," she lied. Actually, she could read French with some effort, and had a smattering of Latin, but she probably couldn't read that kind of text. She didn't need to anyway, Laurent could read it. And Melissa, of course.
"Do you really need this many sources? I've seen master's theses done with less exhaustive research."
"I like to make an effort."
Angela could feel the doors of communication slamming down between her and Giles. "I don't know if I'll be able to help you, Patricia. I have a few references here, but nothing that you couldn't probably find in your college library. I've heard of some of these volumes, but they are not widely available, and I don't have them here."
"Anything you could help me with," Angela conceded. "I'd like to get my research started before going back to my classes."
"Well, sure. Let me find the books for you."
As Giles stepped away from his desk, Angela noticed he had several books open upon it. One seemed to be a handwritten volume with a few fantastic line drawings, portraits of people. Another was a leatherbound folio edition, obviously old but very well-kept. The title couldn't be seen with the book open, but Angela knew those pages by heart. It was "Vampyres and ther Kynde", one of the books Melissa had had in her library. The mild-mannered librarian was in on the action.
The librarian was picking books from the shelves, and he turned to Angela. The girl was sure he had caught her looking.
She heard a small group in the hall outside, coming towards the library. After a full dose of her usual nightmares, her senses were very sharp, and she could make out three young voices, one boy and two girls.
The door to the library opened, and the teens entered without lowering their voices, as if confident they would find the place deserted. One of the girls was turning towards the desk, perhaps to say something to Giles, when she noticed Angela.
"Oh, hi," the blonde girl said. "Have we seen you around?"
"I doubt it," Angela replied, turning to get her books from Giles.
"Uh, good morning, Buffy," the librarian greeted the newcomer. "This is, uh, Patricia. She wanted help with some research she was doing."
At the mention of the name, Angela couldn't keep her poker face on. It wasn't a name easily forgotten, and besides, this girl was blonde (she didn't have her leather jacket on, but perhaps she saved it for her Slaying nights). This was the Slayer, the warrior girl who'd tried to kill Laurent.
"I-is there something wrong?" Buffy asked, eyeing Angela.
"Huh? Oh, no, no. I just... drifted out for a second. Mr. Giles, can I consult these books right here?"
"Sure, Patricia. There are tables over there."
"Thanks."
"So," the boy who was with them asked as she was leaving. "Patricia. Do they call you Patty, or Trisha?"
"They usually call me Angela," Angela said before realizing it.
"What?" Promptly, from the two girls.
"I mean, my parents used to call me their angel, and the name stuck with them and some friends. Those who don't know me call me Trisha."
"Okay, Trisha," Xander said brightly, before realizing he'd been had. Behind him, Willow smirked. All of this was more attention than Angela was used to handling. She took her books and went to her table. The front desk could still be seen from there, but it was far enough for comfort.
* * *
After about a year of facing vampires, witches, invisible girls and all the assorted creepies that the Hellmouth could throw at her, Buffy's senses were keenly attuned to weirdness. And she was getting more than a whiff of it from the quiet, nondescript girl at the table. The Slayer caught her staring, and gave her a slight smile. Patricia looked away.
"So, what's her story?" Buffy asked Giles in a whisper.
"Yes. Who the hell comes to the school library, anyway?" Xander put in, in a whisper loud enough to be heard in the Principal's office.
"We do, silly," Willow answered him.
"Job reasons. What's her excuse?"
"If you would be quiet for a second," Giles said, his volume a match for Xander's. Switching to his normal voice tone, which whas not much louder than the whisper, he said. "I believe I can help you, Miss Summers. If you and your friends come after class, I'll have the books you want."
Angela, with a tiny smile in her mouth, almost told him not to bother. A girl who could sometimes spot vampires for their lack of a heartbeat had no trouble overhearing a whispered conversation. The vampire's friend had just identified four fifths of the Slayer team. When the Slayer and her friends left the library, she spent an hour scanning the books Giles had given to her, even taking notes to mask her true purpose, and then returned the books with her thanks and left.
* * *
"So what's up with, hmm, Patricia?" Buffy asked right after lunch. The Slayerettes and Giles were talking in the student lounge, just before the late bell sounded.
"I really don't know," Giles answered. "She said she was a former student of the school, and that she needed to do some research for a paper during her college break."
"And let me guess. Her paper is about vampires."
"Jeez, why is it that any conversation with you people includes the 'v' word before ten minutes," Cordelia complained. "You're, like, the queen of weirdness!"
"What does that make you, the court jester?" Buffy retorted. "So, Giles, am I right?"
"Yes, you are. Patricia wanted information on vampires. A lot. What's more, she seemed to know some of the more obscure references on the field, which are way beyond the sphere of interest of any normal teenager. And I think she managed a peek at some of my books while I was looking away."
"Anything too compromising?"
"I don't think so. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds."
"Did you see the way she stared at Buffy, like she knew who she was?" Willow put in.
"I don't see how she could know that."
"Unless one of our pointy-toothed friends told her. Let's not get too confident. If Ford managed to find out that I was the Slayer, who's to say that Patricia couldn't have done that too?"
"There's that," the librarian conceded.
"Besides, Giles, I wanted to tell you. Some vampires came to my house last night."
"W-what?"
"Not exactly to my _house_, you understand," the Slayer ammended. "Rather, they were lurking outside. When I went out for patrol, they jumped me."
All of the Slayer's companions winced.
"Were you, ah, able to handle them?" Giles asked.
"No problem. I kept fearing that Angel would be with them, but they were just punks."
"They're moving against you again," the Watcher observed. "What could be the reason?"
"You mean, besides the fact that their leader is a psycho who's obsessed with Buffy?" Xander replied, with a protectiveness that irked Cordelia.
"Listen, I'm going to--" the librarian started, but then the bell rang and all of the Slayerettes got up and rushed to their classes. Most of them were in enough trouble with Principal Snyder to risk another absence. In fact, Giles noticed the Principal watching them through the halls.
The Watcher gave a soft sigh. Buffy was under so much pressure from all sides. Perhaps if he laid the situation down for the Principal, he'd agree to give Buffy academic credit for saving the world. With a wry smile, he set foot towards his library before Snyder came to pick on him too.
* * *
Angela lurked around the school for a while, waiting for the Slayer to come out from her classes. She wasn't sure about what she pretended to do, but she needed to catch another glimpse of the girl who had nearly killed Laurent. It was _so_ unfair, Angela thought. Laurent was trying, he really was, but no one seemed to care at all. His kind persecuted him when he tried to help mortals. And the hunters only had to hear the word 'vampire' before they reached for their ash stakes.
When she saw the Slayer again, however, Angela didn't have the nerve to approach her. She just followed her at a safe distance as Buffy walked home. Angela was hard to notice in any situation, and she had practice taling people. She was not a vampire, and the Slayer was not as alert during the day as she'd be by night. All this is to say that Buffy's usually superb senses didn't pick up the girl following her.
Angela noted the Slayer's adress before turning away. It was near dark now, and Laurent would be awake shortly. She liked to be with him every time he woke, but she was hungry. She passed by the apartment, and noticed there wasn't much food, not much that she could eat anyway. Perhaps she should try to grab a bite at that diner Laurent had mentioned, and take the opportunity to observe the Slayer a little more.
Angela considered waking Laurent. It was near his time anyway, but he couldn't follow her to the Bronze. Buffy might be there, and she already knew his face. Thinking she'd only be a few minutes, Angela left a note for when he woke and left the apartment.
She got to the Bronze before Buffy and her friends, and had a little time to watch their meeting unobserved. Even her acute senses couldn't pick up a conversation tables away in a noisy nightspot, so she couldn't know what the conversation was about in Buffy's table. Nevertheless, when the Slayer picked her stuff and left with an air of grim determination about her, Angela could make out her purpose clearly enough. She checked to make sure her wooden stake was still in her bag, and decided to follow. Considering that the Slayer would probably be expecting pursuit, Angela dallied far enough behind Buffy as to avoid detection.
All in all, it was a mistake. Perhaps several of them in a row. Angela was used as Buffy, in her own way, to dealing with vampires, witches and other things that went bump in the night. But her experience had been with a quieter breed of vampire. Not even in San Francisco had she ever stoppped to consider the multiple dangers that faced a girl walking alone by night.
Which is to say that, stake or no stake, she was totally unprepared for the attack that she suffered while making her way through the dark and lonely streets.
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