Title: Dark Night of the Soul -- Episode 1: City Of
Author: Angel Kisses 70
Posted: 05-17-2003
Email: Kanrei64@msn.com
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Category: AU; ATS Season 1
Content: A/C
Summary: In my universe, Angel didn’t leave at the end of BTVS Season 3, but Cordelia did go to LA to seek her fame and fortune. When Buffy dies at the end of Season 5 jumping off the tower, Angel decides to leave Sunnydale, unable to face the memories or the guilt. However, since the Slayer is dead (and Faith is still in her coma,)another must be called....
Spoilers: Only if you've never seen Season 1
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Anyone besides NF, just ask first.
Notes: Last year, before ATS Season 4 and ME's giant screw-up, I kicked around the idea of re-writing the series with a new twist. So, in order to console myself, I decided to start writing it and post it here to see if anyone's interested in it.
You will see large parts of dialogue and scenes taken directly from the original. However, I am twisting the episodes to fit my A/U ideas and will include original scenes and dialogue.
If any of you are familiar with my fanfics from the Roswell boards, you know that I am doing this with the Roswell TV show in a series fic called, Children of the Stars. Like that series, I will be posting each of these Angel stories as an "episode," divided into
5 acts as if it were an actual TV show.
Feedback: Yes, please!ACT I
"Los Angeles. You see it at night and it shines. Like a beacon. People are drawn to it. People and other things. They come for all sorts of reasons. My reason? No surprise there. It started with a girl."
A dark-haired man dressed in an expensive-looking, black leather jacket sat at the bar of the smoky, semi-busy club. Several empty shot glasses sat lined up in front of him. Staring down at the full glass in front of him, he grinned and began spinning it around in circles.
“She was a really, really pretty girl,” he said, slurring his words. “No... she was a hottie girl. She, she had,I mean, her hair was.... You know? You kind of remind me of her. Because...because, you know, the hair. I mean...the hair." He smiled at the large, black man sitting on the stool next to him.
The man just rolled his eyes and continued drinking his beer.
Getting no vocal response from his fellow barfly, he glanced blearily over his shoulder to watch two young women playing pool with three, clean-cut, older guys. He quickly looked away, when the biggest of the three men walked up to the bar and stood next to his stool.
"We want to cash out," he heard the man growl to the bartender, so he looked up at the man and grinned drunkenly. “Girls are nice."
The man gave him a disgusted look, took his change from the bartender, then turned towards his companions. “Okay, guys, let’s go. Let’s go find some real fun."
As the five pool players left, he sat up straight, narrowed his dark brown eyes and dropped the drunken grin. He got up and walked out the side door, into the alleyway.
***
“You guys really know the doorman? I mean you can get us into the Lido?" gushed Aura.
Cordelia Chase rolled her eyes. Sometimes her best friend was just too naive for her own good. She started to say something, when one of the guys grabbed her from behind.
"I don’t want to go clubbing anymore. I want to party, right here,” the man said, grinning.
"Hey, back off!" she yelled, slamming her elbow into his gut and pushing him away as she spun around. “I don’t care if you do wear Gucci loafers. I don’t take Mr. Grabby Hands from anyone!”
Suddenly, the man reared up and grabbed her by the throat. “Shut up and die!" he snarled. His face morphed into the familiar visage of a vampire.
“Great Cordy,” she thought, clawing at the vamp’s hands, “Nice night to leave the wooden stake at home.”
"’Scuse me. I’m sorry. But, has anybody seen my car? It’s big, and it’s shiny."
She tried to see who her clueless, drunken savior was, but the vampire holding her blocked her view. Instead, all she could do was listen as her captor growled, "Piss off, pal!"
The hapless drunk shuffled over to one of the other vampires. “Ugh! Breath mint?"
The next thing she knew, Cordelia found herself flying through the air and landing on top of some trashcans.
“Ow,” she said, grabbing her forehead where the edge of a trashcan lid had hit it. Pulling her hand away, she saw blood. Narrowing her eyes, she broke off a piece of a discarded wooden crate and stood up. “Okay, now you’ve pissed me off. I have an audition in the morning!”
She paused as she saw the drunk block a punch from the vampire who’d thrown her, then counter with one of his own, knocking the vamp on his ass. As the man spun around to backhand one of the other vampires who’d been holding Aura, Cordelia’s eyes widened in surprise. “It can’t be,” she thought.
Stunned, she watched as the two smaller vampires decided to charge their attacker, only to meet the sharp ends of two wooden stakes and explode into clouds of gray dust.
The man lowered his arms, recoiling two spring-loaded, wrist mechanisms back into the sleeves of his black leather coat.
“It is him,” she thought. However, before she could speak, the vamp who’d attacked her, stood up and bashed a trashcan lid over her rescuer's head, causing him to fall to his hands and knees.
Cordelia saw red and jumped the vampire from behind. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she growled, shoving her make-shift stake through his back and into his heart. As the vamp disintegrated, she fell to the ground.
“Oh, my God!” Aura screeched. “They were vampires!”
Panting lightly, Cordelia stood back up and looked at her friend. “Duh. How long did you live in Sunnydale?”
“Go home,” a familiar voice growled.
Turning around, Cordelia gasped as she came face to face with Angel in full vamp face. “Angel?” she asked uncertainly, thoughts of Angelus flitting through her memory. She briefly registered the sound of a fainting Aura hitting the ground.
He stared at her. ”Cordelia?” His gaze drifted to her forehead, his nose twitching.
Nervously, she touched her bloody cut and took a step back.
He saw her hand that gripped the stake, raise slightly, and her eyes narrow with suspicion. He spun around on his heel. “Stay away from me,” he growled and stalked away without a backwards glance.
Cordelia stared after Angel until he disappeared into the night, blending seamlessly with the dark shadows.
ACT II
Wearily removing his jacket, Angel walked into his apartment. Silently, he unbuckled the empty wrist sheathes from his arm and carried them over to an antique armoire. Opening the door, he laid them in their spot among the other neatly arranged weaponry. Carefully eyeing the assortment of knives, swords and other medieval fighting implements, he removed his black, button-down shirt, and absent-mindedly laid it over the back of his sofa.
He began to walk towards the kitchen, then quickly spun around to face a short,black-haired man in extremely loud clothing standing in the doorway of his bedroom.
"I like the place,” the strange man said, walking out into the living room and looking around. “I mean it’s not much with the view, but it has a nice bat-cave sort of an air to it.”
"Who are you?"
The man quietly shuffled the deck of cards in his hands. "The name’s Doyle."
He sniffed. "You don’t smell human."
"Now that’s a bit rude. So happens that I am very much human." Doyle sneezed. Blue spikes popped out all over his face. He looked up sheepishly. "On my mother’s side." Shaking his head, the spikes disappeared.
Angel raised an eyebrow.
Doyle sighed and plopped down onto the sofa. "Well, I come in uninvited, so you know I’m not a vampire like yourself.”
“What do you want?" he growled.
"I’ve been sent by the Powers That Be."
"The powers that be what?"
Doyle rolled his eyes. "Let me tell you a little bedtime story--"
"I’m not sleepy."
Doyle raised an eyebrow at him.
Angel shut up.
"Once upon a time there was a vampire,” Doyle said dramatically. “And he was the meanest vampire in all the land. All the other vampires were afraid of him, he was such a...bastard. Then one day he’s cursed...by gypsies. They restore his human soul. And all of a sudden he is mad with guilt. You know: ‘What have I done?’ You know, he’s freaked."
Angel sat down on the other end of the sofa and yawned. "Okay. Now I’m sleepy.”
Doyle snorted. “Yeah, well, it’s a fairly dull tale. It needs a little sex. Enter the girl.” He whistled softly. “Pretty little blonde thing, Vampire Slayer by trade. And our vampire falls madly in love with her. Eventually the two of them,...well, they get fleshy with one another, though I guess the technical term is perfect happiness. And boom! Our boy goes bad again. He kills again. It’s ugly.”
Doyle got up from the sofa and wandered over to the open weapons cabinet. “Eventually he gets his soul back for the second time, and decides he needs to be punished. So he pushes Miss Young-Puppy-Eyes away. Oh, he still watches her back in the good fight, but other than that, he withdraws from the group.”
Picking up a wicked-looking knife, Doyle inspected it casually. “Then one day, a big, bad Hell god comes to town, threatening Miss Slayer’s sister. Seems the wee bit is a mystical key that opens a hell dimension. In order to save her sister, Miss Slayer throws herself into the mystical energy, closing the portal but dying in the process. Our vampire is heartbroken.”
Doyle laid down the knife and walked into the kitchen. “So what does he do? He takes off. Goes to LA,” he said, opening the refrigerator door and peering inside. “To fight evil and atone for his crimes...a faceless champion of the hapless human race.... Say you wouldn’t have a beer of any kind around here, would you?"
"No."
Doyle looked at him with disbelief. "Come on, you must have something besides pig’s blood!"
Angel got up from the sofa. "Okay. You’ve told me the story of my life, but since I was there, I already knew. So why aren’t I kicking you out?"
Doyle looked at the two lone bags of blood sitting inside the refrigerator and sighed. “Because,” he replied, shutting the door, “I’m going to tell you what happens next. You see, this vampire, he thinks he’s helping. Fighting the demons. Staying away from the humans, so as not to be tempted. Doing penance in his little...cell. But he’s cut off. From everything. Even from the people he’s trying to help."
"I still save ‘em. Who cares if I don’t stop to chat."
“The Powers That Be. That’s who. You know, I’m parched from all this yakking, man. Let’s go treat me to a Billy Dee."
***
“So why are these Powers so interested in me?” Angel asked, as he and Doyle walked out of a 24 hour liquor store.
Doyle took a sip from the bottle in the brown paper bag he carried. "Because man, it’s not all about fighting. It’s about reaching out and showing people that there’s hope still left in the world. It’s about letting them into your heart. It’s about saving souls. Hey, possibly your own in the process."
"I want to know who sent you."
"Honestly,” Doyle said, shrugging, “I’m not sure who the Powers are. Never met them directly. They just give me visions. Which is to say, great splitting migraines that come with pictures. A name...a face. I just know they’re more powerful than me or you, and they’re just trying to make things right."
"So again, I ask...why me?"
"Because you’ve got potential. And, because you have experience with the Slayer."
“Excuse me?” Angel growled.
“Not that kind of experience. Fighting and training experience.”
“The Slayer’s dead.”
“And another has been called, and you, my undead-dead friend, are going to find her and help her.”
“I don’t think so. That’s what the Watchers’ Council is for.”
“You don’t really have a choice. The balance sheet isn’t exactly in your favor to afford the luxury of saying no,” the half-demon said, taking another sip from his bottle. “Besides, the Council doesn’t know about this one. They’re still waiting for that girl, Faith, to come out of her coma. No, this Slayer has been called by the Powers. She’s going to be like no other Slayer before or ever again.”
He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to Angel. “Had a vision this morning. When the blinding pain stopped, I wrote this down."
Angel read the paper. “Tina? Coffee Spot?"
Doyle nodded. "Nice looking girl."
“And she’s the new Slayer?”
“Don’t know. That’s your job to find out. I just take the names."
"I don’t get it. How am I supposed to know--.”
"If she’s the one? How’d you find out about Miss Young-Puppy-Eyes? Don’t you vamps have like a ‘Slayer sense’?”
He shook his head no. “Whistler showed her to me.”
“Hmm, well I guess you’rer just going to have to get into this Tina’s life. Make with the grown up talk. Remember, this isn’t high school anymore."
"Why would a young woman I’ve never met even talk to me?"
Doyle laughed. "Have you looked into a mirror lately?”
Angel shot him a look.
Doyle stopped laughing and squirmed. “No, I guess you really haven’t."
"I’m not good with people," Angel said, frowning.
"Well, that’s the whole point of this little exercise, isn’t it? So...are you game?"
ACT III
Angel sat down at an empty table inside the Coffee Spot, and watched the young, blonde-haired waitress bustling around the semi-busy restaurant clearing tables. As she hurried by him, she knocked a full coffee cup off the table next to his.
With lightening fast reflexes, he caught it in mid-air without spilling a drop.
She looked down at him in amazement. “Wow! Great reflexes," she said, as he set the cup back down on its table and smiled at her. “Thanks, these come out of my paycheck."
He nodded. "So...are you happy, um...Tina?" he stammered, looking at her name tag.
"What?" She looked sharply at him.
He shrugged. "Well, you look sort of down."
"You’ve been watching me?"
He shook his head. "No! I was looking towards there...and you kind of walked through...there....”
"You don’t hit on girls very often, do you?" she asked, smiling.
He shook his head again, embarrassed. "No, it’s been a while. My name’s Angel. I’m sort of new in town."
"Hmm...well, Angel, do yourself a favor...don’t stay." She started to walk away.
"You never answered my question."
Tina paused and turned to look at him. "Am I happy? Do you have three hours?"
"Do I look busy?" he asked, covertly crossing his fingers as she debated silently with herself.
She nodded. "I’m going to a party. I get off at ten."
***
Angel followed Tina into the expensively-furnished condo where a stereotypical Hollywood party was in full swing. They were met at the door by a woman holding a video camera.
“Tina!” the woman squealed. “Smile for the camera.”
Tina looked annoyed.
Shutting off the camera, the woman looked Angel up and down. “And who is this hunk of tall, dark and handsome?"
“Just a friend, Margo,” Tina said. “Look, I really need to talk to you...about Russell."
"Okay.... Why don’t you grab yourself a drink, and I’ll be right back."
Tina watched Margo walk away, then turned to the buffet table. “Cute,” she said, picking up a star-shaped sandwich and showing it to Angel. “Everyone’s a star."
"Who’s Russell?" he asked.
"Someone a friend of mine made the mistake of trusting,” she replied, throwing the sandwich back down on the plate.
"Here I am," Margo said brightly, walking up to them, sans camera.
Tina looked at him. "This won’t take long," she said, and walked off with Margo.
Angel looked around the room full of beautiful, young people and those who wanted to exploit them. He shook his head in disgust. Frowning, he started to go look for Tina, when he felt a small tingle in the back of his brain.
"You know, they asked me to come back and read for a third time! Hello? I’m an actress. I don’t put up with things like that!"
He turned towards the sound of the familiar voice he’d heard not less than twenty-four hours ago. He spotted its owner talking to two men in business suits. "Cordelia," he said, louder than he intended to.
Cordelia Chase turned around. Her hazel eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, my God. Angel?" she asked, leaving the other two men behind as she walked towards him.
He nodded. "Can’t believe I’m seeing you here after...."
"Last night? I know. I was so surprised to see you in LA. Small world. So, um, I heard about Buffy. Xander called and told me. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t want to talk about it,” he said, looking away.
“Yeah, okay...I understand. So are you ‘living’ here, now?” she asked using finger quotes.
"Yeah. You?"
She smiled. "Malibu. A small condo on the beach. It’s not a private beach, but I’m young so I forbear."
"You’re acting?"
"Can you believe it? I mean I just started it to make some quick cash, and then boom, it was like my life! So, you’re still “grrr,”" she said, scrunching up her face.
"Yeah, there’s not actually...a cure for that."
"Right. But you’re not evil, I mean you saved me and Aura last night. Though, rude much, stalking off like you did without saying good-bye?"
He blushed. “Yeah, um, sorry about that.”
“No big. So, you here on business?”
“No, I’m here with a friend, actually."
"Oh, good,” she replied, scanning the room. “Well, it was nice seeing you, but I've got to get mingly. I really should be talking to people that ‘are’ somebody." She smiled and walked away.
Angel rolled his eyes and sighed. "It’s nice that she’s grown as a person," he murmured.
“Who was that?” Tina asked, walking up behind him.
“Just an old friend. Haven’t seen her in about two years. She’s an actress.”
“Really?” Tina asked, skeptically.
“Why do you say that?” he asked, suddenly concerned.
She shrugged. “It’s just that this party...it’s being paid for by that guy I mentioned, Russell. He uses these things to find himself new ladies, if you get my drift. Must be looking for a new one since Denise.”
“Denise?”
“My friend. It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth. Rumor has it he did away with her. He gives me the creeps.” She shuddered.
He put his arm around her. “It’s okay.”
“I know. But, I’m not sure your friend will be.”
“Huh?”
She pointed over to the sofa. “Your friend is talking to one of his ‘personal assistants’ right now.”
He looked over to see Cordelia take a business card from a young man dressed in an expensive suit, smile warmly, then walk away.
“Come on Angel, this scene is over,” Tina murmured. “We can go get a bite to eat and get to know one another better.”
He nodded distractedly and followed her out of the house, something nagging at the back of his mind.
***
Doyle sat in his apartment, pen in hand, scanning the racing papers. After circling something in the paper, he picked up the phone and dialed.
“Hey Manny. It’s me. No, wait! Don’t hang up! Look, I have the money.... Yeah, swear on me mother’s grave. And, I have a bit extra that I want to lay on a pretty pony called Vision Quest. That’s right...40 to 1 odds in the 6th.... Yeah, to win.... No, I’m not crazy. Let’s just say I had a....vision!”
Dropping the phone, he clutched his head, writhing in agony. When the pain finally subsided somewhat, he picked up the receiver. All he heard was a dial tone. Disgusted, he slammed it down in its cradle.
Grabbing his pen, he quickly scribbled an address down on one of the stray napkins that littered the top of his coffee table. Standing up, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Send a vampire to do one simple task, and he still messes it up!”
ACT IV
Cordelia stared at her empty closet and sighed. Carefully, she hung up the red silk dress that she’d worn to the party, the last piece of designer clothing she still owned. All the rest had already been sold to keep up the rent on her tiny, efficiency apartment.
“Not that this place is much to look at,” she thought, closing the closet door and looking around at the dingy, yellow walls and bare windows. She tried to keep the place as clean as possible, but she was beginning to lose the battle with the cockroaches. “Lord knows why they stay. It’s not like I have food around here for them to eat.”
Walking over to her bed, the one piece of furniture that she hadn’t hocked yet, she opened her purse and pulled out the two star-shaped sandwiches that she’d managed to stash away at the party. Flopping down on the bed, she noticed the light blinking on her answering machine. Quickly, she pushed play.
"You have one new message," the electronic voice said, while Cordelia started munching on one of the sandwiches.
"Cordy, Joe at the Agency.”
She paused at the sound of her agent’s voice, crossing her fingers.
“No Luck, again. We’re having trouble booking auditions. The networks say they’ve seen enough of you. So, you know, no need to call. We’ll let you know if the situation changes. Bye."
Sighing, she finished her sandwich, then carefully wrapped the other one back in its napkin and placed it back in her purse. “Well, at least I have lunch for tomorrow,” she thought, snapping her purse shut to keep the roaches out.
Suddenly, there was a knock at her door.
Frowning, she got up to answer it. “Look Mr. Bellotti, I promise I’ll have the rent money for you on Friday,” she said, throwing open the door. “I--. Who are you?”
Doyle stared at the beautiful brunette and gulped.
Cordelia waved her hand at him. “Hello? Can I help you?”
He shook his head. “Name’s Doyle. And--and, I’ve been sent by the Powers to help you.”
***
“So, does that personal assistant have a name?” Angel asked, as he and Tina stepped out of the elevator onto her floor.
“It’s Stacy, and he’s a creep too. Just like Russell.”
“Russell have a last name?"
She stopped at the door to her apartment and nodded. "Yeah, but you don’t need to know it. He’s the kind of guy that can get away with murder."
"Who did he murder?"
"I-I don’t know. Maybe nobody,” she said, pulling her keys out of her purse. “He likes...he likes pain. I mean he really does. He talks about it like it was a friend. And you don’t leave him, he tells you when he’s had enough." She unlocked the door and opened it. “So...you want to come inside?”
He nodded and entered the apartment. “Nice place,” he said, glancing around at the modest decor.
She closed the door. “Thanks. Do you want a drink?”
“Um, well, some tea would be nice.”
Setting her purse down on the couch, she smiled. “I didn’t take you for a tea drinker, but okay, if you insist,” she said and walked into the kitchen.
While she had her back to him getting the tea ready, Angel quietly picked up her purse and opened it. Spotting a little red leather book inside, he pulled it out and discovered that it was her address book. Glancing towards the kitchen to make sure that she was still occupied with the tea, he flipped though the book’s pages until he spotted a name. “Russell Winters,” he read silently, then quickly shut the book and placed it back inside her purse.
“Do you take milk and sugar?” she asked, turning around just seconds after he’d replaced her purse on the couch.
“Um, yeah...but I just remembered I have to be some where early in the morning. So I think I need to take a rain check on the tea,” he said, backing towards the door.
"You mean you don’t want to...?”
“No,” he said quickly, realizing what she was implying. “I think we need to get to know each other better, before we take that step. Just call me an old-fashioned kind of guy. You’re working tomorrow night, right?”
She nodded.
“I’ll see you then, okay?”
“Okay,” she said and watched him leave before rolling her eyes and mumbling to herself, “Old-fashioned? Boy, are you in the wrong town."
***
“Well, are you going to say anything?”
Dumbfounded, Cordelia stared at the short, loudly dressed Irish man standing in front of her.
“Well,” Doyle said, chuckling nervously, “That went better than I expected.”
Suddenly, she started to laugh.
“Then again, maybe not.”
“I’m the Slayer?” she said, still laughing. “Me? That’s rich. Who sent you really? Am I on Candid Camera?”
“I told you,” he said, “The Powers That Be. You’re their Chosen One to fight along side their champion, Angel, the vampire with a soul.”
“Look, little man,” she said, beginning to get angry, “I am NOT the Slayer. That was Buffy Summers, a friend of mine and Angel’s one true love. If you’re going to try and pull a con on someone, you should do it on someone who doesn’t know the people you’re talking about.”
He held up his hands. “Look, I just receive the visions and deliver the message, so don’t kill me. However, you ARE the Slayer. The one girl chosen to fight--.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know the spiel. Lord knows Buffy and Giles spouted it often enough. So, what, does that make you...my Watcher?”
“Technically, yes,” he said. “But not for the Council. Only for the Powers. They’re the ones who chose you, not the Council. They don’t even know you exist. They won’t call another until coma girl--”
“Faith.”
He nodded. “Right. Until Faith is dead. That’s the rule.”
“They called Kendra when Buffy wasn’t dead.”
“Once Buffy fulfilled the prophecy about the Master by dying, even if it was briefly, she was released from the Council’s power. However, the PTB needed a Chosen One to fight alongside Angel. So, when that boy, Xander, brought her back, she became the Powers’ Slayer. The Council just assumed she still worked for them. Pompous windbags.”
She snorted. “Well, that would explain why the Council could never control her. But, why me? I’m a little old to be a slayer, don’t you think?”
“That’s why they chose you, Cordelia. You always possessed the potential power to be the Slayer even though you were never called. And yes, when a girl turns 20, she does age out and that potential power is transferred to another. However, Buffy died just before you turned 20, correct?”
She nodded slowly. “Okay, but there are other girls with the potential power right? Why didn’t these so called Powers use one of them?”
“Because you know Angel. You know about his past, his history. And, big plus here, you know about the Curse. The PTB definitely want to avoid a repeat of Angelus showing up unexpectedly because he got too...happy,” he said, making finger quotes.
“Well, I don’t feel any different or stronger.”
“Didn’t you stake a vamp last night?”
“Yes, but it’s not like I haven’t done it before. Hello, from Sunnydale remember?”
He looked at her, staring intently at her forehead. “Didn’t you get cut last night during the fight?”
She touched the spot where she’d been injured. “Yes....”
“But it’s gone now.” Doyle raised an eyebrow. “Healed rather quickly didn’t it?”
Rubbing the now perfectly smooth skin on her forehead, Cordelia sat down on her bed in shock.
***
Sitting in a 24-hour copy center, Angel waited patiently for the computer he was using to run its search. Suddenly, a newspaper article on Russell Winters popped up on the screen. He quickly scanned the archive file, then clicked on the link to the article’s photograph of Russell Winters. He felt the borrowed blood in his veins run cold when he saw the face that filled the screen. There smiling out at him was the familiar face of the vampire he knew as Vlad the Impaler.
***
“Changed your mind did you?” Tina asked, opening her door. She frowned when she saw who it was. "Russell."
Russell Winters smiled at her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. And here you are, right under my nose. Aren’t you going to invite me in?"
She glared at him. “I don’t think so.”
“Did I ever tell you that I own this building. Actually, I own most of the block. So...are you that anxious to be evicted?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine. Come in,” she said, leaving the door open.
“Why thank you.” He looked at the pale blue silk nightgown and robe she was wearing. “Did I interrupt something, or is that outfit for the person you thought was at the door?”
She frowned and pulled her robe closed. “Cut the crap, Russell. What do you want?”
“You’ve been a very bad girl, Tina. You’ve been asking questions.”
“All I want to know is what happened to Denise?”
“Nothing. She wanted to go home, I bought her a ticket to Pensacola." ”
"I want the truth, Russell."
He sighed and glanced behind her. “She’s dead.”
Turning around, she saw his personal assistant, Stacy, standing in the doorway with a gun pointed at her. She turned back to Russell and gasped.
“And now,” Russell said, smiling evilly, saliva dripping from his fangs as he grabbed her, “So are you.”
***
Angel stepped out of the elevator and into his apartment. He stared at his hands, still smelling the faint scent of Tina’s blood on them. He’d been too late. When he’d arrived back at her apartment, he’d found her on the floor, face down. When he’d bent to turn her over, he discovered that her throat had been ripped out--another hapless victim of one of the bloodiest vampires in history.
“You couldn’t have known he was going to come calling, or that she’d invite the bastard in,” Doyle said, following him out of the elevator. He silently wondered when it would be a good time to tell Angel that he’d found the new Slayer. Not that Cordelia was very enthused by the news, especially when she’d kicked him out of her apartment and told him to tell the Powers to take the job and shove it.
“Forget it,” Angel said gruffly. “Let’s get to work. Find out where he lives, how much security he has...."
”Angel, it’s morning. We have all day. Besides, you can’t cut yourself off from--”
Angel whipped around, his eyes glowing amber. “Doyle, I don’t want to share my feelings,” he hissed. “I don’t want to open up. I want to find Vlad, and I want to look him in the eye.”
“Then what?" Doyle asked, taking a step back to warily eye his boss.
"Then I’m going to share my feelings." He threw his jacket on the couch and headed for his bedroom.
Doyle followed. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with here, man? I mean, Vlad the Impaler, the guy who tortured, killed and maimed thousands! Not to mention the whole stake thing...and that was before he was turned.”
Angel paused at the door to his bedroom. “I know exactly what I’m dealing with,” he replied, his voice flat. “Where do you think Angelus got so many of his ideas?”
Doyle’s eyes widened. He swallowed nervously. “You-you’re nuts if you think you can take on a 570 year-old, Master vampire. You make him mad, and he won’t think twice about killing everyone you care about."
Angel turned around. "There is nobody left that I care about.”
***
Russell sat at the desk in his study looking over the reports in front of him, while a video tape of Margo’s party played softly on the small TV next to him.
"Mr. Winter, the Eltron merger is a go,” said the sharply dressed, young man standing in front of the desk. “They caved on everything after you negotiated with their CFO. We’ll bring the papers by your office tomorrow.”
Russell nodded and looked over at the TV. He watched silently as Tina came on the screen, looking annoyed. “She had something, didn’t she?” he murmured. “I was sorry to kill her so soon.”
“Actually, you haven’t seen her in several weeks.” The young man reached into his briefcase and extracted a manila file folder. He opened it and placed it on the desk. “You were in a conference yesterday with your contract lawyers when the unfortunate incident occurred. And, we’ve located a witness that is telling police that she saw a dark complexioned man with blood on his hands fleeing the scene."
"Impressive," Russell murmured, glancing down at the file, then returning his gaze back to the television.
"Wolfram & Hart is a full service law firm, Mr. Winters. It is our job to see to it that our clients lives run more smoothly."
Still staring at the video, Russell nodded, then leaned forward. "Who is this?” he asked, standing up to study the new woman on the screen. “A fresh face! I think we should meet.”
The young man flipped open his cell phone and gestured at the image of Cordelia Chase on thetelevision. "Should I alert the firm that this young lady may constitute another long-term investment?"
Russell looked at his lawyer and shook his head. "I don’t think so, Lindsey. I just want something to eat."
ACT V
Cordelia sat on her bed, bathed by the warm afternoon sunlight with her eyes closed and her legs folded in the Lotus position. She’d decided to try some of the new age, positive thinking crap that Aura had sworn would work.
“I am somebody. I matter. People will be drawn to my positive energy and help me to achieve my goals. I am right where I am supposed to be,” she said, before falling face down into her mattress at the loud growling of her stomach, “and not dying for something to eat!”
The telephone rang, startling her. “Maybe Aura’s crap worked after all!” she thought as she hopped off the bed and lunged for the receiver. "Hello, Cordelia Chase," she said smiling, trying desperately not to breathe too hard.
"Cor! It’s Margo. You were such a hit at the party last night!"
"Oh, thanks!"
"Guess who saw my videotape of the party and guess who wants to meet with you?"
Cordelia crossed her fingers. "A director? A manager? An assistant to an assistant who wants to spring for lunch?" she said hopefully.
Margo laughed. "No silly. Russell Winters."
Cordelia’s smile fell. "The investment guy?"
"Oh, Cordelia...he’s a lot more than that. This guy helps people get started in their careers. And, he wants to meet you--tonight!"
"Tonight? When?"
"He’ll send a limo for you at 8. Can you be ready by then?"
“Yeah, I can, but--.”
“Great! Listen Cor, this is a great opportunity for you. Play your cards right, and you could ride this Sugar Daddy straight to the A-list!”
Cordelia felt her stomach rumble again. She’d already eaten the sandwich from the party and had no money to buy food. “What could it hurt? I’ll at least get some dinner out of it and maybe a doggy bag,” she thought.
“Okay,” she replied, “I’m game. Thanks Margo.”
“No prob, Cor. Bye!”
Hanging up the phone, Cordelia stared at it. “I am somebody,” she murmured softly, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I matter. People are drawn to my positive energy and will help me to achieve my goals. I am right where I am supposed to be.... Then why do I feel like I just sold my soul to the devil?”
***
Dressed once again in her red silk designer dress, her hair pulled into a French twist and her makeup flawless, Cordelia opened her apartment door at 7:55 to head down to the street. She stopped short when she saw Doyle standing in the hallway. “Didn’t I tell you last night to get lost?”
“Yes, well, I’m Irish, and that makes me stubborn,” he said, staring at her as she shut her door and locked it.
“Stop ogling me,” she said, brushing past him to head towards the elevator. “And my answer is still no. I have a date.”
“A date?” he asked, hurrying to catch up with her. “You can’t go out on a date. We’ve got a problem.”
She glared at him, as she pressed the down button. “What’s this ‘we?’ There’s no we. There’s just me, and there’s just you. Never, and I mean never, the two shall meet.”
He followed her into the elevator. “It’s Angel,” he blurted. “He’s not thinking clearly. It’s like he’s got a death wish.”
“What? Has he been trying to walk into the sunlight again? Pfft! Been there, done that. Your Powers That Be won’t allow it. They just make it snow.”
Doyle shook his head. “No, no, no. He’s going after a Master vampire. A 570 year-old vampire called Vlad the Impaler to be exact.”
She frowned. “Why does that name sound familiar...? Oh yeah, European History class. Vlad the Impaler, some minor Romanian prince with a thing for using wooden stakes on live people. Was the basis for the book, Dracula, right?”
He stared at her, speechless.
“What? Just because I was a cheerleader, doesn’t mean I was a dummy. Hello! So not blonde! That would be Harmony.” The doors to the elevator opened, and she walked out.
Quickly shaking himself from his stupor, he followed her. “Sorry,” he said, opening the front door for her. “You’re right. And the staking thing...that was when he was human. When he was turned in 1476, he became even worse. Made what he did to the 20,000 Turks in 1462 look like child’s play.”
Spotting the limo, Cordelia headed towards it. “Isn’t Angel a Master vampire too? He knows how to take care of himself. I’m going on my date now.” She smiled at the driver, who’d gotten out and opened the door for her. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”
“Not at all Miss Chase. You’re right on time. Mr. Winters is waiting for you at his mansion where you will be dining tonight.”
As she started to get into the limo, Doyle grabbed her arm. “Winters?” he asked worriedly.
“Yes, Russell Winters. He’s a big investment guy who helps people get their acting careers going in the right direction, which I happen to need.”
“Cordelia--”
She yanked her arm away. “I don’t want to hear anymore of it, Doyle. Angel’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
Intimidated by the size of the glowering chauffeur, Doyle backed away as Cordelia got into the limo. He watched her ride away without a backwards glance and sighed. “Guess it’s time to tell Angel that I found the new Slayer,” he mumbled. “I wonder how he’ll kill me when I tell him that she’s off having dinner at Vlad’s house tonight?”
***
“She’s what?” Angel yelled, grabbing Doyle by the collar of his jacket.
“She, uh, she’s having dinner at Russell Winter’s house this evening.” Doyle shut his eyes and prayed that the vampire would make it quick.
Growling, Angel released him and walked over to the weapons cabinet.
Doyle opened his eyes and quickly checked himself. Breathing a sigh of relief that he was going to live to have another pint down at the pub, he walked over to Angel to see that he was filling a black bag with various lethal-looking weapons. He whistled softly. “Wow, you’re really going to war here. I guess you, uh, you’ve seen a few in your time, yeah?"
"14, not including Vietnam,” Angel replied without looking up from his task. “They never declared it.”
"Well, listen, best of luck to you man.” Unnerved by the predatory look in Angel’s eyes, Doyle began to slowly back away. “I’ve got some fairly large coin riding on the Vikings tonight, but I’ll be there with you in spirit, yeah?"
With lightening speed, Angel grabbed him again. "You’re driving."
Doyle chuckled nervously. "Now, wait a minute. I-I’m not combat ready. I’m just the messenger!"
"And I’m the message," Angel growled.
“Well, yes, when you put it that way.... Want me to carry the bag?”
***
Cordelia, her eyes wide at the opulence surrounding her, followed the butler through the huge foyer of Russell’s mansion. Entering what she assumed to be the study, she smiled at Russell as he stood up from his desk to greet her.
"I’m Russell,” he said, taking the hand she offered in greeting and kissing the back of it. “Thank you so much for coming, Miss Chase.”
Cordelia continued smiling, but inside she felt a shiver of revulsion creeping up her spine. This guy was old enough to be her father!
Still holding her hand, Russell turned to the butler. “That’ll be all Franklin. We’d like to be alone."
Franklin nodded and left, closing the door behind him.
Suddenly feeling a little trapped, she pulled her hand away and walked to the middle of the room. "Wow, what a nice place. I love your curtains,” she said, looking around, noting the dark, heavy velvet drapes. “Not afraid to emphasize the curtains."
"Well, I have old fashioned tastes," he said, smiling.
She nodded. "I grew up in a nice home. It wasn’t like this, but we did have a room or two that we didn’t even know what they were for...,” she said, eyeing him warily as Russell began to walk towards her, almost as if he were stalking her.
"Margo tells me you’re an actress. It’s going well?" he asked, offering her the chair in front of his desk to sit in.
She sat down slowly as Russell leaned against the edge of the desk in front of her. "Oh yeah, it’s great! I’ve had a lot of opportunities. The hands in the liquid-gel commercial were almost mine...by one or two girls.” She looked down at her hands and felt a strange tingle in the back of her skull.
Frowning slightly at the sensation, she looked back up at him. “And, well, it’s not everything I–I expected. I’ve tried really hard, you know. Usually, when I set out to achieve something, I succeed at it, right away. But, I-I don’t know anybody, and I don’t really have any friends here."
Smiling, he leaned forward as if he were talking to a child. “Well, now you know me. You don’t have to worry anymore."
Squirming slightly, she stammered, "Wh-what do you want me to do?"
"Just tell me what you want," he said, staring at her hungrily.
"Oh, God. I’m sorry!” She jumped up from the chair, unable to ignore the sensation in her head anymore. “I’m getting all melancholy on you. I finally get invited to a nice place,” she said, looking around the room, “With no mirrors...and lots of curtains....” Suddenly, she turned her gaze back to him and pointed a finger. “Hey, you’re a vampire!"
“What? No, I’m not," he said backing away from her, startled by the accusation.
"Are too!"
He shook his head. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
She put her hands on her hips. "Hey, according to a badly-dressed, little Irish man, I’m the Slayer. Plus, I grew-up on a Hellmouth! So, I think I know a vampire when I’m...alone with him...in his fortress-like home....” Quickly, she moved away to put the chair between them. “And you know,” she said, chuckling nervously, “I think I’m just feeling a little light-headed from hunger. I’m just wacky. And kidding! Ha, ha."
“Truth is, I’m glad you know.” He vamped out, a feral grin on his face. “It means we can skip the formalities...Slayer."
Picking up the heavy, velvet-covered chair she’d been sitting in, she threw it at him, sending him crashing into a wall. “Wow,” she said, staring at her hands in amazement. “I really do have Slayer strength.” She looked at Russell and grinned. “I am so going to kick your ass!”
***
Angel looked up at the balcony above him and jumped. Landing with the grace of a sleek black panther, he slipped into vamp face and sniffed. His amber-colored eyes glowed with a predatory gleam.
Quickly, he entered the French doors into a dark bedroom. He could hear the sounds of fighting coming from the first floor. He opened the door and slunk along the shadows of the hallway until he got to the top of the staircase.
The sight that met him when he looked down at the scene below surprised him. The May Queen of Sunnydale High was kicking some serious vampire butt. He watched with awe as Cordelia kicked Russell in his mid-section to send him flying across the foyer.
Sensing the opportunity to get the upper hand, Cordelia glanced around trying to find something to use as a stake. “Lovely,” she thought, looking at the few pieces of furniture in the foyer. “Wrought iron, glass, marble but no wood. Go figure.” She turned and sprinted up the white marble staircase.
Reaching the landing, she gasped as she was grabbed from behind and pulled into the shadows. "Angel?" She squinted at the familiar figure before her. “What are you doing here? Doyle said you were going after Vlad the Impaler.”
“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” Russell said, appearing at the top of the stairs.
Angel growled and pulled Cordelia behind him. "I have a message for you,” he said softly, staring at the Master vampire. “From Tina."
Russell sniffed. “Hmm, you’re older than most vampires I’ve met in LA, but nowhere near as old as I am. In fact, I roasted young pups like you alive for fun back in Romania. You made a very big mistake coming here. I don’t like having my dinner interrupted. Especially since it’s been awhile since I’ve had a Slayer," he said, leering at Cordelia and licking his lips.
"Hey! I’m nobody’s dinner!” she said, discreetly taking one of the stakes from Angel that he was holding behind his back. “And can you be a dirtier, old man? Enough with the lip licking thing!”
“I’ll show you just how dirty I can be, little girl, just as soon as I take care of puppy here.”
She grinned a deadly smile. “You have no idea who he is, do you?” Raising her stake, she moved out from behind Angel. “You are so dust.”
Raising his stake, Angel attacked Russell.
Blocking Angel’s blow, Russell kicked out, hitting Cordelia in the hand as she attacked. Her stake went flying over the banister. Then, with the grace and speed borne out of his many years as a vampire, he struck out at Angel, knocking him back down the hallway.
Jumping on Russell’s back as he stalked after Angel, Cordelia wrapped her legs around him and used her arms to put him in a headlock.
Roaring, Russell slammed back into the wall, causing her to smack her head.
Seeing stars, she let go and slid to the floor.
As he reached for her to snap her neck, he heard Angel behind him and moved away just in time to receive a stake in his arm instead of in his back. He quickly retaliated with several blows to Angel’s face.
Resisting the urge to black out, Cordelia looked up and spotted two men, with guns drawn, running up the stairs. “Angel!” she yelled.
Hearing her shout, Angel delivered a hard right hook to Russell’s jaw, then grabbed him by the collar and threw him at the two gunmen. Turning, he helped Cordelia up off the floor.
“Kill them!” Russell roared, untangling himself from his men.
Scooping up Cordelia to shield her, Angel jerked as a bullet hit him in the left shoulder blade.
“No way out, but down, Angel,” she murmured, casting a glance at the banister.
Nodding, he held her tight and jumped. Three more bullets hit him in the back as he landed, causing him to stumble.
Moving out of his arms, she grabbed him by the lapels of his leather jacket and half-dragged him towards the front door. “Come on Angel,” she grunted, “A little help here.”
Drawing on the last of his demon’s strength, Angel stood up and kicked out the door.
Grabbing each other’s hand, they ran, escaping into the cover of night.
***
“Got it!” Doyle said triumphantly, holding up the bullet he’d just dug out of Angel’s shoulder.
"Finally!” Cordelia said, pushing Doyle aside and taking his place next to Angel. “I thought I was going to faint while barfing!”
Doyle rolled his eyes and dropped the bullet into the wastebasket.
“Okay, this may sting a bit,” she said, and began dabbing at Angel’s wounds with a piece of gauze.
Angel flinched.
“Sorry.”
Doyle watched as Cordelia began applying the bandages. “So, Angel,” he said, “Sorry about the car, man. When I heard the gunshots, I thought you might need a little help. Who knew Winter’s would have such a good gate.”
“Yeah, well, you’re paying for the damages,” Angel said through clenched teeth as Cordelia applied peroxide to the wound on his shoulder. “Damn, Cordy!”
“Oh, stop being a baby!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Big, bad Master vampire indeed. Pfft!”
Angel glowered silently as she quickly finished bandaging the final bullet hole.
“So,” Cordelia said, placing the gauze and tape back in the first aid kit, “It’s over, right?”
“What’s over?” Doyle asked, taking the first aid kit from her.
She looked at Angel. “Vlad, Winters or whatever he’s calling himself today...he’s not going to come looking for me, even though he knows I’m the Slayer, right?"
Angel stared into her questioning hazel eyes. He swallowed and looked at Doyle.
Doyle shook his head.
***
Angel kicked in the doors to Russell Winter’s conference room, startling the men and women gathered around the long table. But he didn’t care about them. He wanted the smug bastard seated at the head of the table. He started towards Winters when a young man seated at the middle of the table, stood up and blocked his path.
"I’m Lindsey McDonald, with Wolfram & Hart,” the man said, extending a business card. “Mr. Winters has never been accused and shall never be convicted of any crime. Ever. Should you continue to harass our client, we will be forced to bring you into the light of day. A place, I’m told, that isn’t all that healthy for you."
Angel barely glanced at the annoying lawyer as he walked around him to stand in front of Russell Winters. “Stay away from the Slayer,” he said, his gaze deadly.
“Angel,” Russell said, turning in his chair to smirk up at him. “We do things a certain way here in LA."
Angel cocked his head and stared down at the evil thing before him. “Well, I’m new here," he growled softly.
Russell chuckled coldly. "But you’re a civilized man. We don’t have to go around attacking each other. Look at me,” he said, motioning to the room around him. “I pay my taxes. I keep my name out of the paper, and I don’t make waves. In return, I can do anything I want, including snacking on a certain two-bit brunette who couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag let alone kill me."
“Really? Anything?” Placing a foot on the chair between Russell’s legs, Angel leaned forward. "Hmm. Can you fly?"
Russell’s eyes widened in surprise, as Angel pushed the chair backwards into the wall of windows.
Angel smiled in satisfaction as Russell crashed through the window, the sounds of his screams as he caught fire echoing in the air. Then there was silence. “Hmm. Guess not."
Sticking Lindsey’s business card into the front pocket of his jacket, Angel turned and walked out of the room, the sound of Russell’s empty chair slamming into the sidewalk reverberating behind him.
Lindsey narrowed his eyes at Angel’s retreating back and pulled a cell phone from his suit. He hit speed dial. “Set up an interoffice meeting for 4:00. Seems we have a new player in town.... No, no, there isn’t any need to disturb the senior partners with this. Not yet."
***
Angel sat at his desk and stared at the phone in front of him. Finally, he picked up the receiver and punched in a familiar number. After two rings, a familiar voice answered.
“Hello,” said Buffy’s voice. “You’ve reached the Summers’ residence. We can’t come to the phone right now, but leave you’re name and number after the beep, and we’ll get back to you as soon as we can.... Beep."
Silently, Angel hung up.
"So? What happened to Winters?" Doyle asked, emerging from the stairs into Angel’s darkened apartment.
Angel looked up and smirked. "He went into the light."
"And yet you don’t seem to be in a celebrating mood."
"I killed a vampire. I didn’t help anybody," he replied, a hint of sadness in his voice.
"Are you sure about that?” Doyle asked, sitting down on the edge of Angel’s desk, “Cause there’s a girl upstairs that would say differently."
Suddenly, a shrill, terrified scream shattered the silence. Both men jumped up, rushed up the stairs, and burst into the inner office.
Carefully, avoiding the sunlight streaming through the windows, Angel walked into the outer office to see Cordelia, duster in hand, standing on the desk and pointing at the corner. “Ah! Look over there! A cockroach! In the corner. I think it’s a bantam weight!"
Angel looked at her funny, then quietly walked over to the corner and stepped on the offensive bug.
Hopping off the desk, she shuddered. "Okay, first thing. We need to call an exterminator – and a sign painter. We should have a name on the door!"
"Okay. I’m confused," Angel said, looking at Doyle.
Cordelia smiled. “Doyle filled me in on our little mission. So I was just saying, if we’re going to help people, maybe a small charge. You know, something to help pay the rent, and my salary. You need somebody to organize things, and you’re not exactly rolling in it Mr. I-was-alive-for-200-years-and-never-developed-an-investment-portfolio."
"You want to charge people?" he asked her incredulously.
"Well, not everybody. But sooner or later we are going to have to help some rich people, right? Right?"
Doyle nodded. "Possibly, yeah."
“And you’re okay with the...?” Angel asked her.
She nodded. “The Slayer bit. Yeah, I watched and learned from the best you know,” she said softly, tears shimmering in her hazel eyes.
He stared at her as if really seeing her for the first time.
Shaking herself from her melancholy, she pointed behind him. “Hand me that box. So...I think that we should charge based on a case-by-case analysis, but with me working for a flat fee, of course,” she said, stopping to look quizzically at him and bite her lower lip.
After a moment, he smiled and handed her the box.
"Of course this is just temporary...until my inevitable stardom occurs," she said, breezily, taking the box. Smiling, she walked off into the inner office.
Doyle looked at Angel. “Well, you’ve found your Slayer. I think the Powers have made a good choice. She’ll provide you with a connection to the world. She’s got a very humanizing influence."
He chuckled. "You think she’s a hottie."
Doyle nodded. “Yeah, she’s a stiffener alright, I can’t lie about that. But, you know, she is going to need a lot of training."
"True."
"You know there’s a lot of people in this city that need helping."
"Hmm,” Angel said distractedly, staring at Cordelia working in his office. “So I noticed."
Doyle quirked a brow at the vampire’s interest and grinned. "You game?"
Tearing his gaze away from Cordelia, he looked grim-faced at Doyle and nodded. “I’m game."
**FADE TO BLACK**
**END OF EPISODE**