Angel and Buffy belong to the show, all others and the plot to me. All feedback is welcome.
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Part Four
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Buffy walked into the living room, reached over and turned off the TV. "Come on, Mikey time for bed," she said with a fond smile, extending her hand. The small, blond boy reached up and placed his small hand in hers obligingly. She led him up the stairs and turned to the right. She and Mikey were the only ones home. Bennie had taken two nights off to visit some friends in the city. She took Rilla with her, but Buffy and Abbey had insisted that she leave Mikey with them. As Abbey was out slaying, it was Buffy's job to put the little tyke to bed.
"Okay, big guy, what pj's do you want to wear tonight?" She asked in a serious tone of voice, knowing how important his pjs were to Mikey.
He walked over to the dresser and pulled out pair after pair, holding each one up for inspection. Finally he selected a pair of Bugs Bunny ones and said, "I'll wear these."
Buffy took the clothes from him and smiled, "Wonderful choice, Mike, I always loved Bugs."
He nodded as she stripped off his shirt, "I like Bugs, but Road Runner is my favorite."
"Yeah," Buffy agreed, "He sure is funny. Who's your next favorite?"
She continued to discuss different characters of the Bugs and Tweety show with the three-year-old while she helped him change, brushed his teeth and put him to bed. She read him the story of "Peter Pan", sang him two songs, then turned off the lamp and plugged in the nightlight. She leaned over and gently brushed her lips against his forehead. "Night, little one," she whispered.
Mikey raised his short arms and wrapped them around her neck, pulling her down for a wet kiss. "Aunt Buffy?" he yawned sleepily as she moved to leave. She stopped and he added as he always did every night. "Night, night, sleep tight-"
"Don't let the bed bugs bit," she continued for him. "And if they do, then take your shoe. . . And beat them 'til they're black and blue."
She exited the room and shut the door half way. As she walked down to the living room, she thanked whatever powers may be for giving her the chance to be a part of such a special little life.
* * *
The sky was a deep blue the next night, though there were almost no stars visible to the naked eye, as all the lights in the densely populated area overshadowed them. Southern Ontario was the most heavily populated region of Canada, but the city Buffy lived in was much like Sunnydale, only larger and sometimes much colder.
Angel turned around to face his two companions. Both were vampires like him. One, Rachelle, who was originally from Northern France, was older than him by three years. Myo, a young black man from Kenya born in the mid 1800's, paced around a grave silently, his impatience outlined in every line of his body. Angel and Rachelle watched him for a moment, then she began to get annoyed and called quietly from her perch on a tombstone, "Do you mind? Some of us here are trying to be stealthy."
Myo looked up, annoyance shinning in his eyes briefly as he stared at his long time friend, then disappeared just as quickly. "Sorry," he replied off-handedly, his accent clashing nicely with her soft French voice, "Just need a little exercise, you know?" Rachelle nodded absently then returned her attention to the path at the bottom of the hill.
Angel followed her gaze, then dropped the flower he had been fiddling with. "Are you certain they'll be here?" he asked, jet lag and nervousness making him snappish.
Rachelle understood this and simply answered, "Yes, quite sure. Do not worry, mon cher, they come by here nearly every night." She frowned slightly to herself, concern in her eyes, "They should know better than to be so predictable."
Angel's muscles tightened as a memory over took him, one of gazing forlornly at Buffy from the shadows as she made her rounds when she was still alive. "It's an old habit of hers," was all he said.
Suddenly, Myo's head came up and he watched the bottom of the hill, all business now. "Something's up," he said and with that, jogged down the path. Rachelle started to call out, then thought differently, instead leaping from her seat and taking off after him. Angel followed closely behind. As they reached the bottom of the incline and peered around the bushes, they could see something was definitely up. Really UP. As in, those things that were supposed to be down, oh, say about six feet under.
Four vamps had obviously just erupted from their graves, hungry and looking for a meal. What they found were two lean, mean, slaying machines.
If he had a heart, Angel's would have stopped. As it was, the rest of the world froze in that moment of time, fading into a haze. She hadn't changed a bit. She was. . . beautiful.
Buffy fought beside a young girl with short black hair. She wore a pair of black pants with a dark tank top, blending into the night. Sweat shone on her chest, more from the heat than the exertion. Long blond hair was pulled back from her face, hanging lose in the back. She threw a wicked punch at one vamp, throwing him over a bench. She ducked a flying fist, then kicked her other opponent in the face. Glancing up, she saw that her friend was in trouble, having absorbed a hard right in her temple. Vaulting over the bench, she grabbed a branch off a tree and landed right behind one of the other vampires. Pulling back her arm, she impaled the makeshift stake in his chest. He froze for a second, then vanished in a flash of dust and a blood-curdling scream.
The other girl lay on the ground, disoriented, a bruise already growing on the side of her head. She'd be no help. Buffy glanced over at her, afraid she'd been seriously injured. Unfortunately, her concern for the human gave her enemies the opportunity they needed. The other vampire that had attacked the girl leaped forward. Buffy managed to block his first two punches, then his third hit her in the chin, driving her head back. One of the others came running around the bench, punching her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, groaning aloud. She lashed out with her leg over her head, connecting with his ear, but the third vamp grabbed her ankle as it came down and heaved, throwing her to the ground, where she hit her head on the leg of the metal bench behind her. She wasn't getting up soon.
Angel didn't think, didn't consider his actions. The only thought in his mind was that Buffy was in danger and it was his job to save her. He shouldered Myo out of the way, his face sliding into vamped mode. He could smell the blood and it raised the animal in him.
He picked up a stake the girl had dropped as he ran forward, wasting no time, as he reached out and wrapped his arm around the nearest vamp's neck. Drawing him up against his chest, Angel plunged the stake into his heart, then pulled it out quickly so it didn't dissolve with him. That got the attention of the other two. They came around quickly, reptilian eyes shining in the moonlight. One growled low in his throat and Angel answered in kind. Then it launched himself at Angel, propelling him backwards. He rabbit punched it on the back of the neck, then brought his knee up into his ribs. The vamp stumbled backwards, but came back quickly, kicking Angel in the stomach, then catching him behind the knee with his ankle.
Buffy shook her head, trying to clear her vision. She was dimly aware of some stranger attacking the demons to give her an opportunity to get back on her feet. She rolled and pushed herself up with her arms, still slightly confused, though she could see clearly now. Turning round, she caught sight of a tall, dark man in a long black coat. He looked somewhat familiar but Buffy shook the thought away, her attention held by the second vamp that was about to tackle her new ally while his back was turned. "Oh no you don't," she muttered. Taking two running steps, she launched herself in the air and kicked the vamp in the shoulder. It was up again instantly, swinging as it turned round. It was easy to duck and she hit him with a three-punch combination, all in the head. Producing a stake, she thrust it into his rib cage and up, piercing his heart.
Angel killed his vamp at the same time, pushing him back into a broken tree branch. He screamed once, then dissipated. Angel stood with his back to Buffy, bracing himself for this new confrontation. He took a deep breathe that he didn't need and straightened his shoulders. As if in slow motion he felt himself turn, looked through his eyes as he stared at his love and watched as her eyes widened in shock and her already pale face whitened. Through his own shock, he heard himself say, "Hello, Slayer. Miss me?"
Buffy forced herself to come down from the battle rush and straightened from her place with her hands on her knees to meet her new friend. Her eyes came up, finding black pants, a dark velvet shirt, and a long black coat. Finely muscled body, broad shoulders, tall and his face was. . . . . Buffy felt as if someone had smashed her across the head with a two by four. It couldn't be him, it wasn't possible, he was gone, out of her life, he was gone. . .
"Angel," she whispered, and the sound of her voice uttering his name broke the spell over her and she felt as if a thousand voices were singing in her head. He was here, he was actually here. Buffy felt a grin break out on her face, the snappishness of his words not entering her mind. She ran the few feet and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as tight as she could.
She surprised him when she hurtled herself at him, and he didn't embrace her right away. He felt her arms tight around his neck, could feel her body pressed against his through their clothes and smelt the scent that was only Buffy. It was like Lily of the Valley. Slowly, he lifted his arm, gently cradling her back. No matter what happened after this moment, all he needed was to hold her in his arms.
Abbey picked herself up off the ground, watching silently as Buffy embraced a handsome stranger that her gut told her was a vampire. She could sense as well as see two others standing a ways off, but they weren't like other vampires, the evil in them wasn't strong. Her mind raced ahead and she came to the only logical conclusion. she thought to herself,
Buffy could sense that Angel's muscles were tight, and as sensations began to penetrate the haze of her mind, she realized he was slow to hold her as well. Dread replaced happiness, and she reluctantly pulled back, taking a step away, as she realized just how angry he was probably going to be. She stared up into his face, memorizing every angle, every shadow. He stared back in like, his face a mask and his eyes, his wonderful eyes that had somehow always given her a hint as to what he was feeling, were just as cold.
Buffy broke the uncomfortable silence first. "How did you find me?" she asked, her voice slightly unsteady.
Angel shrugged slightly, unsure of what to do now that he'd seen her again. He recognized the note of fear in her voice. Half of him wanted to hold her and dispel any of that fear, but the louder part felt like screaming at her, telling her exactly how she had hurt him, how she had taken his life and torn it into shreds, how she had held his heart in her hands and crushed it in her fist. Instead all he said was, "The Family has connections everywhere. We always keep tabs on the current Slayer."
"We?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "So you decided to stay with the Family after all."
"Yeah," he agreed, a sudden bitter tone buried in his voice, "There wasn't anything else for me, you know?"
Buffy ducked her head, looking at the ground. Immediately Angel felt a rush of guilt, but he tried to push it aside. He was suddenly painfully aware of the three spectators spread around the graveyard. He glanced around, then looked back at Buffy who had raised her head again. "Listen," he said quietly, "Why don't we go somewhere where we can talk? Just us."
Myo and Rachelle took that as their cue to leave. Rachelle hesitated a moment, then said in French, which she knew Angel could understand, "Nous allons attendre pour toi chez nous, Cher. Prends tout le temps que vous besoins." We'll wait for you back at the house. Take as long as you need.
Angel nodded, adding a simple, "Merci." He looked back at Buffy expectantly, then when it was apparent she didn't know what he wanted, he said, "Well, you've lived around here for a while. You choose where."
Buffy paused, wondering frantically where on earth they should go. She doubted their surroundings would make much of a difference when they were both so tense. Abbey, whom she'd forgotten about, came to her rescue.
"Hey, Buff, you guys can use the house, you know," She said, walking forward to stand next to her. She regarded Angel curiously, knowing Bennie would want all the juicy details later.
Buffy tilted her head, her face a mask of doubt. "I dunno, what about the kids-"
"Don't worry," Abbey cut her off, " Remember? Bennie's visiting her friends in Toronto, she took Rilla with her. When you get home, just pay the babysitter and send her home, she lives right across the street."
Buffy nodded once and threw a long look at Angel. "Alright," she said. Abbey leaned over and impulsively hugged, innately sensing her emotional turmoil. Buffy smiled slightly and whispered a thank you into her ear. Then Abbey walked back over to the bench and heaved her bag onto her shoulder, leaving Buffy and Angel alone for the first time in five years.
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