I did not create, nor do I own, the major characters in this story. Buffy, Giles, Faith, Xander, Oz, Angel, Cordelia, Willow, and Spike all belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I did, however, create the storyline they now inhabit. Thanks to Laur, who originated the general idea for a “film noir” episode of Buffy. The title for this story comes from the excellent movie “LA Confidential.” That’s it. Hope the lawyers are happy.
***
A rush of emotion flooded over Buffy, and words began spilling from her mouth before she even had time to think what to say. “Omigod, Angel,” she choked, grabbing his arm, “you have no idea what kind of a day this has been. I woke up this morning and nothing was the same. People aren’t who they’re supposed to be, I’m not even the same person anymore, I don’t know what’s going on! And on top of everything, I think Giles is out to get me or something. And what are you doing here anyway?”
Angel was silent. He looked at her quizzically, head cocked to one side. Finally, he spoke. “I’m sorry, really. Have we met before? I think you must have me confused with someone else.”
Buffy’s heart sank. “But,” she started, “but you knew my name!”
Angel mouth turned up slightly again in a knowing expression. “Everyone does, Miss Summers. If you haven’t gotten used to being famous by now, you’ve got bigger problems than a little paranoia.”
Buffy’s eyes welled up with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and she turned to walk away.
Angel hesitated for a split-second, then reached out and took her arm gently. “Wait,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I’m not who you think I am, but maybe I can help anyway. All those things you were saying--about not knowing what’s going on, and someone out to get you? I hear a lot of that in my line of work. Maybe I could help you sort it out.”
Buffy stared in shock as Angel handed her a business card. She turned it over gingerly. It read:
Fly by Night Detective Agency
Angel Brannigan, Private Investigator
18 Victory Boulevard
Hollywood
“Brannigan?” Buffy mouthed silently as she read. Well, she reasoned, I guess he is Irish. She looked up from the card into Angel’s compassionate face and was about to thank him. Just then the bartender approached and slammed a glass filled with red liquid down on the bar in front of them.
“You had a Bloody Mary, right sir?” the bartender asked. Angel nodded and paid for the drink. Buffy stared at the viscous red fluid trickling down the side of the glass. Well, she thought, this would be really funny...if it were funny. Which it isn’t.
Angel picked up his drink and looked pointedly at Buffy. “Come by my office tomorrow afternoon if you want to talk,” he said. Then he turned and walked away.
Buffy watched him go and looked down at the business card again. She walked slowly back toward the dance floor. As she approached their table and saw Xander waiting for her, she realized that she had been so surprised by Angel’s presence that she hadn’t ordered anything at the bar at all.
“I forgot the drinks,” she confessed.
Xander grinned. “That’s okay,” he said. “The band’s starting up again anyway. Let’s dance.”
Before Buffy had time to protest, Xander grabbed her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. The band began a slow ballad, and although Buffy’s head was on Xander’s shoulder, her mind was a million miles away. She heard Oz’s voice, singing as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
I don’t have plans and schemes.
And I don’t have hopes and dreams.
Baby, I just don’t have anything,
Since I don’t have you.
I don’t have fond desires.
And I don’t have happy hours.
Baby, I just don’t have anything,
Since I don’t have you.
I don’t have you.
I don’t have happiness
And I guess I never will ever again.
When you walked out on me,
In walked old misery.
And he’s been here since then.
I don’t have love to share.
And I don’t have one who cares.
Baby, I just don’t have anything,
Since I don’t have you.
I don’t have you.
As the band went into the instrumental section of the song, Xander’s voice brought Buffy back to the here and now. “Buff?” he asked pensively.
“Hmm?” she replied, not looking at him, her face still on his shoulder.
Xander continued to talk, looking straight ahead as well. “So, this whole thing with you not returning my calls, not signing up for the show, all that. This was all Giles’ fault?”
Buffy sighed audibly. She decided right then to say all the things she had been wanting to say to Xander for a long time--the real Xander, that is. “No, I can’t blame it all on Giles. Something weird is going on there, and I intend to find out what it is, but I’ve made some pretty bad decisions on my own too. I’ve been pulling away from people, keeping too many secrets.” She lifted her head up and turned to look Xander in the eye. “I’m sorry there was any ugliness between us, Xander. I never wanted it to be that way, honest.”
Xander smiled in understanding, and Buffy squeezed him tight in a friendly hug before resting her head back on his shoulder again. After a few moments of dancing silently, Xander took a deep breath and cleared his throat, as if preparing himself for something big.
“So, Buffy,” he began again, weighing his words carefully. “That being the case, does this mean maybe I was wrong in assuming you wanted nothing to do with me?”
Buffy was silent in apprehension, afraid of where Xander was going with this particular line of questioning.
Xander lowered his head, so that he was now talking through Buffy’s hair, his breath in her ear. “Because, actually, um, I want everything to do with you.”
Buffy’s eyes closed in despair as her heart sank for the second time that night. She hated what she was about to do. Xander had never let her down in the past, and even in this weird alternate timeline, he was there for her. The music was right, the setting was right, even the clothes were right. But she had run into Angel. And that had changed everything. Buffy raised her eyes to look at Xander again and slowly shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Xander,” she sighed. “I thought I could do this, I really did. I thought I could come here with you and just have a good time. But I can’t. It’s not going to work. Apparently I’m destined to never live a normal life. Not even in 1943. I’m so sorry.”
Buffy pulled herself out of Xander’s arms and turned away from him. She didn’t want to see the heartbreak on his face she knew was there. “I’ll just get a cab home,” she mumbled as she headed for the door. Xander remained on the dance floor alone, watching her go.
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