Gingerly, Buffy slid down the stairs, black high-heeled shoes clinking on the wooden floor as she made her way into the kitchen. Fluffy pancakes were the only thing on her mind. And sure enough. . . her lovely, favorite sister stood at the stove flipping. . . black-not fluffy-oh so crispy . . . whatever they were. Perhaps favorite sister was a bit of an overstatement. Letting out a prolonged, highly dissapointed sigh, Buffy slid onto a stool.
"Pancake?" Dawn offered, looking down at her big sister hopefully noticing she'd be oblivious to the slight blackness of the pancakes.
"That's what you call those?" Buffy teased, sure enough as Dawn sadly tossed her. . .whatchamacallits into the trash bin.
"I miss Tara," Dawn mumbled remembering the wiches golden cakes that made her way onto their plates every morning.
"I know," Buffy said quietly. "Me too, but right now she's doing what's best. . . giving Will alittle push in the right, magic-free direction."
Dawn nodded with a sigh, pulling cereal, two bowls and the carton of milk from the respective places. She passed one bowl to Buffy and filled hers with Special-K. Buffy sighed herself. Goodbye pancakes, hello not so special k.
"Good morning family," Willow pronounced bouncing into the kitchen with a ferocious grin across her face.
Buffy raised her eyebrows with surprise. "You're awfully chipper this morning," she pointed out, realizing this was the happiest she'd seen Willow since. . . since Tara'd left.
"Yes, I'm big with the chipperness," Willow agreed with a nod. "Today I have this feeling that everything's going to go back to the way it used to be." Not a feeling really, as a certainty, Willow thought to herself thinking of her herbs and spices burning upstairs.
"Good," Buffy replied. She had this urge to ask Willow what brought about her sudden change of heart, why today she could get out of bed before four and smile at the day that awaited her instead of moping around after her ex-girlfriend, but fought it. Reguardless of why, Buffy was glad Willow was happy. That was exactly what her friend had needed.
**********************************************
Four dead demons later, Angel, Gunn and Wesley returned to the hyperion hotel to find Fred, as usual hiding under a table in the lobby.
"Did you get him?" she asked, smiling up at Angel with admiration.
"Yeah," Angel said dropping his crossbow onto the table above her. "Yeah we did." He seemed distracted, and highly unaware of Fred's presence, something she resented-- but had grown used to. Just like the space under the table. "Where's Cordelia?"
"She's in the bathroom still, came out once to see if you were back, but ended up right back there. Poor girl, she seems awfully bugged about something," Fred replied with a shrug.
Wesley sent a concerned glance in Angel's direction. "Perhaps we should look into Cordelia's visions, they could be altering and in turn causing her a great deal of pain."
Angel nodded before proceeding to the bathroom and once again knocking on the door. "I'm fine Fred, really, I know you find me fasinating since all you've spent the last. . . god only knows how many months of your life with demons, but really I'm fine and would just really like it if you left me alone."
"Cordelia," Angel muttered quietly. "You've been in there for over an hour. What's going on."
Damn it, busted again, she thought to herself as she quickly snapped open the bathroom door. "Nothing!" she insisted. She leaned in closer to Angel and lowered her voice, "it's just . . . you know, I had to find somewhere to get away from Fred; girl finds everything interesting."
"You're sure?"
"Yes yes, in-fact, now that you guys are back and I'm off babysitting duty. . . I think I'm going to go home, take a nice hot bubble bath, catch up on my reading."
By this time Wesley had made his way over to the two curiously. "Well, you could read here," he suggested, gesturing to Angel's office which was loaded, loaded with books.
"Really Wesley, unlike you, I don't spend my time off work reading about work. I was thinking more, vogue, cosmo. . ." She frowned as the two stared at her clueless before taking her fake smile, and fake happiness right to the door of the hotel. "Bye don't miss me too much, don't work to hard, you need me call!"
Angel starred at the retreating figure just before meeting eyes with Wesley. "I don't buy it. Get reading Wes."
"I'm on it."
**********************************************
London, 1888 For now atleast.
"The world is spinning," Drusilla pronounced, twirling around in the middle of the dark, midnight streets. "I love it when everything's spinning."
Spike, unimpressed, pulled her spinning to a hault. "The world's not spinning love," he told her sternly. "That's just you."
Drusilla pouted, sticking her lower lip out angrily. "Spikey hurt my feelings."
He leaned in and hungrily kissed his lover on the lips. "Sorry pet, but the spinning. . . it was starting to make me vomit." He stopped and glanced in the direction of Angelus and Darla. The two were just bleedin' standing there staring into each others eyes like idiots in love. "Hey, do we vomit?"
"You make me want to vomit Spike," Angelus growled, pissed that he had taken away from his Darla time.
"Now now Angelus, let's play nice. We have tons of things ahead of us for--" Darla's words broke off, everything was spinning around her.
Drusilla chuckled. "Everything's spinning."
Spike's brow furrowed. "Yeah. It is. What the bleedin' hell's going on."
Angelus growled. "I smell gypsy magic all over this." He focused before his smooth, human features contorted into his vampiric ones.
A loud bang accompinied by a flash that made them all wince, and it was over, the four fell on the ground, before the ladies let out a painful scream. They were bursting into flames, and it wasn't even. . . wait. It was. Daylight?
Angelus and Spike acted quickly, pulling the girls into the nearest alley while sheilding themselves from the protruding sun. "Angel what's happening?!" Darla snapped looking up at her lover with rage. "Where are we?!" He ignored her words as he tried to figure it out for himself.
He noticed people wandering the streets. Dressed in clothes he'd never seen before. Hair down and flowing not in tight curls like the girls of London, but straight and long. Ladies and gentlemen freely showed affection for one another, holding hands and kissing in the middle of the streets, and noone seemed to notice. In the distance, three girls all with different hair colours left their incredibly strange house, and he overheard them speaking of a magic box. Gypsies? No. . . they didn't look like gypsies. In-fact, nothing about this place looked familiar. "We have to get inside," Angelus commented to his enterage. "Before we all burn."
They'd deal with the question of where they were later, right now he was more concerned with the minimizing shade of the small alleyway. He glanced one last time at the three women, with a fishy feeling in his unbeating heart before kicking down the door of the nearest building, the four causing loud screams to erupt from inside.
|
|
|
|
Rave
Barbie Girl (Becca)
biscuit07
Filmtheory (Jim)
Malice (Jess)
MebbtheScribe (MichaelB)
Reset (Allie)
Shay (Marrisa)
somnambulist29 (Shea)
Stephanie Loss
Wendyness (Wendy)
Questions?Contact Us
|
|
All stories on this site have been archived with the authors' consent. Do not copy these stories for your own uses without the express consent of the author themselves. Buffy the Vampire Slayer TM and Angel TM are © UPN, WB, Fox and its related entities. All photos on the site are © UPN, Fox, Warner Bros, and/or their respective owners. No profits are being made by use of these images.
Powered with the assitance of eFiction.
|
|
|
