Title: The Dark Night of the Soul: Ep. 2 -- Lonely Hearts
Author: Angel Kisses 70
Posted: 06-10-2003
Email: Kanrei64@msn.com
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Category: AU; ATS Season 1
Content: C/A
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 ATS 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: See first episode, City Of, Act 1 for disclaimers and explanations.
Feedback: Yes, please!ACT I
"I‘ve seen a lot in my 200 plus years of existence and learned many lessons. But the biggest one is that everybody needs to feel a connection with someone else, whether it be love of family, love of friends or love of the heart and soul. I used to have all three, but I lost them one by one. And now, there’s only me...."
Shrouded in darkness, Angel sat alone in his office staring at the bare top of his empty desk. The only sound was the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. The only movement were the clock’s hands telling him that his two employees were now ten minutes late. Suddenly, light flooded the office, causing him to blink at the brightness and look up.
“Hey, you know, maybe we should go over this thing again of you getting out in the world and involving yourself with people,” Doyle said, leaning against the open door between the offices. “Cause it’s Friday night, the most social night of the week! A couple of lookers like us should be out there enjoying the nightlife. Not sitting here in the dark like some kind of....”
“...some kind of vampire?”
“I was going to say Slacker, but, yeah, to you, Mr. Obvious. You got to come out, man!”
Angel stared at him. “Why?”
Doyle scratched his head. “Well, because...because we deserve a night of fun, don’t you think? You know, break up those nights of training sessions, patrolling and other acts of death and mayhem. Plus, we could toast the new business, you know, the three of us.”
“Cordy put you up to this, didn’t she?”
“What? No! Well...okay...maybe.”
Angel shook his head and tried to hide his smile.
“Hey now! Don’t you be laughing at me, Broody Boy. I’ve seen her twist you round her little finger plenty of times these last few weeks. ‘Angel, I’m cold. Angel, I’m hungry. Angel, kill that cockroach in the corner,’” Doyle said in a high falsetto voice.
“Doyle,” he said, standing up, “Just ask her out already. I know you’re dying too. Believe me, it will be a lot less painful than trying to jump through her hoops and hoping she notices you.”
“But, I don’t even know if she likes me, man,” Doyle replied, looking crestfallen as he plopped down into the chair across from Angel’s desk. Suddenly, his expression brightened and he looked up at Angel. “Unless, you put a word in for me! Just don’t let her in on me being half demon, okay? Because, women can be a little funny about that.”
“Doyle, she’s the Slayer. Pretty sure she already knows you’re a demon, what with her ‘super slayer senses’ and all.”
“Oh yeah.... Well, you know, just tell her what a great guy I am.”
“I barely know you.”
Doyle grinned. “Perfect. That should make it easier for you then.”
“Hello!” Cordelia’s voice rang out as she walked into the outer office.
Angel looked at Doyle’s pleading face. “No.”
Cordelia, dressed in a pair of black leather pants and a clingy, red halter top, walked into Angel’s office and smiled. “They’re finally in!” she said excitedly, holding up a white box in her hands.
“Ooh, there in,” Doyle said, getting up to stand next to the object of his affection and admiring her outfit.
Tearing his gaze away from her form-hugging pants, Angel looked at her questioningly and hoped she hadn’t noticed he’d been staring.
“The cards,” she said, looking at him like he should know what she was talking about.
“Yeah, the cards,” Doyle said. “Sheesh, Angel! Keep up, will ya.”
“What cards, Cordy?” Angel asked, throwing a glare at his seer.
She sighed in frustration and opened the box. “Our business cards...to leave with people so they know how to reach us,” she said, handing him a card.
Doyle smirked as he took a card from the box. “Yeah, Angel, it’s not like you have a signal folks can shine in the sky whenever they need help, you know?”
“Hey, look at that,” Angel said, looking at the business card, “There’s our number. It’s right next to a...a, um, a butterfly?”
Seeing the displeased look on Cordelia’s face, Doyle quickly looked at the squiggly figure on his card. “It’s obviously not a butterfly, you idiot. It’s a...a bird. No. No, wait. It’s an owl. A bird that hunts at night. Brilliant!” He looked back up at her and smiled.
She frowned at them both. “It’s an angel!” she yelled.
“An angel? Right! It’s an angel!” Angel said, nodding.
Doyle nodded in agreement. “Brilliant. So obvious and so clever on so many levels--.”
Cordelia smacked Doyle in the chest with the back of her hand. “Oh, shut up!”
He doubled over in pain. “Oh, jeez....”
“Come on, don’t be such a baby,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t even use my Slayer strength. I barely hit you.”
Doyle squeezed his eyes shut, moaned as he kicked the desk, then fell backwards.
Angel grabbed him before he hit the floor. “Doyle! Are you okay, man?”
“Yeah,” he replied, holding his head, trying to get his equilibrium back. “I’m okay.”
“What did you see?” Angel asked.
“It’s a bar. Uh, I think I recognize it. It’s one of those terminally-stuck-in-the-eighties places.”
“Yeah, and...?”
Doyle shook his head. “That’s it. No faces popped out at me, man.
Just, just a feelin’.”
“What feeling?” Cordelia asked.
“Something’s gonna happen,” he replied, grim-faced.
Angel looked at Cordelia. “Looks like you got your wish. Looks like we’re going out after all.”
***
Throbbing techno music pounded relentlessly through the club of writhing young people. A hand full of people stood around the bar, bathed in the pink light of a neon sign on the wall proclaiming the establishment as D’oblique. None of them seemed to notice the young woman with long blonde hair sitting by herself at the end of the bar gazing sadly at her drink.
Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she looked up.
A dark-haired young man dressed in a dark blue silk shirt and gray dress pants and holding a drink, pointed at the empty stool next to her. “May I?” he asked, smiling.
She smiled shyly at him and nodded. “Oh, sure.”
“I’m Kevin,” he said, sitting down.
“Sharon.” She nervously tucked her hair behind her ears.
Kevin leaned towards her. “God, I just hate places like this, don’t you?”
ACT II
Off in a semi-secluded corner of D’oblique, Kevin and Sharon sat at a table; their drink glasses empty.
“When I was a kid,” Kevin said, leaning in close, “I thought: you grow up, you meet her and everything sort of falls into place.”
“Yeah, I had that. Only, I had a him, where you had a her. Actually, I just had a Ken and Barbie,” Sharon said.
He snorted. “Ken and Barbie had it easy. They never had to come to places like this. But you’ve got to try. I mean, what if she was here and you missed her because you were, I don’t know, too burned out to still believe? Know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean,” she said, nodding. “You have to believe that someday you’re going to meet someone special.”
He stared into her eyes: “I think I have,” he murmured softly, then jerked away when he realized what he’d just spoken out loud. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I just said that! I mean, I think you’re special, but it just sounded so....”
Sharon leaned over and placed her hand on his knee “No,” she said, looking him in the eye. “It sounded nice, Kevin.”
***
Angel, Doyle and Cordelia stood at the bottom of the stairs inside D’oblique, panning the crowd of dancers in front of them.
Unimpressed by the scene, Cordelia looked at Angel. “Okay, now what?”
Angel glanced around the club, trying to gain a bead on what they were looking for, but there were too many bodies, too many scents, and definitely too much noise. Feeling a little overwhelmed, he shrugged. “I guess we should split up. Look for someone that might be in trouble.”
Doyle nodded in agreement, staring at a buxom blonde that danced by in front of him. “Or for something that’s about to cause it,” he said, and wandered off after the blonde.
Cordelia rolled her eyes and handed Angel a small stack of his business cards. “Here, hand these out. Who knows, might net us a paying client if Doyle’s ‘feeling’ doesn’t pan out.”
Angel narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched Cordelia, still dressed in her leather pants and too-small, in his opinion, halter top, walk over to a group of men and begin chatting them up. He growled softly when he saw one of the men put his hand on her ass, then grinned when she firmly pushed it away.
Assured that Cordelia could take care of herself, he slowly made his way over to the bar.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked him, as he finished fixing a margarita and handed it to a tall blonde sitting at the bar.
Angel glanced at the people around the bar, then leaned in close. “Um, I’m just wondering...have you noticed anything unusual tonight?”
“Unusual?”
“Yeah, you know, out of the ordinary, possibly even...dangerous?” he asked uncomfortably.
The bartender grinned. “Don’t worry. It’s early yet. The real hot women don’t mosey in until around 11:00.”
***
“Losers,” Cordelia thought as she walked away from the group of leering guys she’d been talking too. “No surprise that they’re still single.” Spotting a couple sitting at a table, she smiled and walked up to them.
“Hi! If you’re in trouble or being harassed by someone or something, just call this number, day or night. We can help,” she said to the girl, handing her a card. She turned to the guy. “You look troubled. Are you troubled, or is that just your lazy eye? Call us, we are very discreet.” Handing him a card, she smiled, then moved on to the next table.
“Hi, how are you?” she said to the startled man and woman, before Doyle grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away from them.
“Hey! This isn’t a marketing seminar here, princess. You’ve got to stay a bit more below radar,” Doyle hissed, glancing around at the crowd.
“What radar?”
He looked at her. “The police. You know, the service we provide might put some people in mind of the V-word.”
“Vampire?”
“No, Vigilante. You know, there are laws against this. You need to chat people up. Be a little more casual like, you know, ‘Hi, what’s your name? How’s life treatin’ ya? What’s that you say? Minions from hell gettin’ you down?’”
Cordelia snorted. “I’m an actress, a student of the human animal. I don’t need to talk to people to know their story.” She turned and pointed at a guy dancing by himself. “You see jazz-hands over there? Mama’s boy. Peter Pan complex.” She pointed at a short-haired blonde standing over by the DJ. “Self-absorbed closet-dud, with a big ‘the world owes me’ chip on her shoulder.” Then, she pointed at Sharon and Kevin as they headed for the door. “Check out Sarah, plain and tall. Has or comes from big money.”
“How do you know all that?”
“Well, you’ve got to be rich to snag the Calvin Klein model she’s leaving with.”
“Yeah, well, they’re all riveting insights and such, but we need to find someone that’s in trouble?”
“How’s Angel doing?”
***
“No seriously, I-I wasn’t hitting on you!” Angel stammered at the guy walking away from him with the disgusted look on his face. Sighing, Angel leaned back against the bar and massaged the bridge of his nose.
“Are you okay?” asked the tall blonde with the margarita.
“What?”
“Well you just looked...bad. Not that you look bad, you look very nice,” the woman stammered, then looked down at her glass. “I think I’m just going to have my drink.”
Angel smiled. “Thanks.”
“For thinking you look bad, or thinking you look good?”
“You choose,” he said, extending a hand. “I’m Angel.”
“I’m Marcy,” she said, shaking his hand, “From Barstow.”
He grinned. “So, Marcy from Barstow, that doesn’t even rhyme or anything, do you come here a lot?”
She giggled. “Yeah. I prefer those cool bars that are hard to get into, but I can’t get into them. Anyway, this is close to home.” She took a sip of her drink. “So, did you...did you just stop in?”
He nodded. “I’m sort of looking for someone to...rescue. Are you maybe in need of some...rescuing?” He quickly took a sip of his water, and silently berated himself for sounding like an idiot.
Marcy giggled again. “Well, that’s the strangest line I’m going to hear tonight.”
“No, it’s not a line. I’m...I’m not very good at this, you know, talking.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...well, as you can see, I’m an expert at it. Not. It’s just that I come here most every night and I’ve heard them all. You just surprised me, that’s all. If it’s any consolation, you sounded very sincere.”
“Thanks. People can surprise you.”
“Which is why I come here,” she said, nodding. “Besides, it’s either this, or sit at home alone in the dark.” She took another sip of her margarita.
Angel looked and murmured, “Hmm. Wouldn’t want that.”
“So, what do you do?”
“Do?” he asked, looking back at her.
“For a living?”
“I, uh...well, basically I, um, I help...I’m a veterinarian.”
She smiled. “Really! Well, I always say, a man that loves animals, is a man you can trust.”
***
“So you got everyone figured out, huh?” Doyle asked, sipping his beer and raising an eyebrow at Cordelia as they walked away from yet another bewildered couple’s table.
“Not everyone,” she said, shaking her head and stopping. “I don’t get you.”
“Me?” he squeaked, nervous at the pointed stare she was giving him.
“Yeah. I mean, what’s with that vision thing of yours?”
“That vision thing,” he said, looking offended, “Are messages from the Powers, whoever they maybe. It’s my gift!”
“If that was my gift, I’d return it,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “I mean you get those headaches, and you do this bleh thing with your face.”
“Wh-what thing w-with my face?” he asked, quickly downing the rest of the mug of beer he was holding.
“Plus,” she said, oblivious to his nervousness, “your visions are kind of lame. I mean, a bar? Hello? That’s nice and vague! What they should do is you one of those self-destructing tapes, you know, that come with a dossier?”
“Well, I’ll be sure to mention it,” he said, breathing a mental sigh of relief.
“Hey, are you the one handing out those cards?”
Cordelia turned around. She smiled at the tall muscular, blond man standing there and handed him a card. “Do you need help?”
“Well, I was wondering if this is really your number,” the blond guy asked, looking up from the card. “Do you mind if I ring you up some time for a date?”
“Great,” Doyle thought, “How am I supposed to compete with Malibu Ken? No way is Cordy going to be his Barbie.” He stepped forward “Yeah, she minds,” he said out loud.
Cordelia put her hand on Doyle’s chest. “I can handle this, ok?” She looked back at the guy, no longer smiling. “Yes, I mind. This” she said pointing at the card, “Is a business card. We offer our services to people in need.”
“Well, I might be in need of a little service,” the guy replied, giving her a lecherous grin, as his gaze ran over her. “You charge by the hour?”
“Excuse me?” Cordelia narrowed her eyes.
“Alright. Just everyone relax here a little bit,” Doyle said, taking a step closer to Malibu Ken. “The lady is with me, all right?”
Snorting, he looked down at Doyle. “Nobody’s talking to you, asswipe.”
***
“What are you looking for?”
“Depends on how many margaritas I’ve had,” Marcy replied, and giggled again.
Angel mentally cringed. He was definitely starting to get a headache. If she didn’t stop giggling, he was tempted to let Angelus out to play.
“Isn’t it great when two people make a connection?” she said, motioning the bartender for another margarita. “So, what are you looking for?”
He looked around the club and sighed. “I honestly don’t know. But, I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Would you like to go some place, you know, more quiet?” she asked, noticing his distraction.
Angel spotted Cordelia and Doyle talking to some muscle-bound guy, and by Cordelia’s body language, he could tell she was getting angry. “Um, I can’t,” he replied, watching Doyle bristle at whatever the man had just said. “I’ve got to stay here.”
***
Doyle looked at Malibu Ken and held up his hands. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble, okay?”
“Hey,” said another blond guy as he walked up to the group, “What’s the trouble?”
“Oooh, look,” Doyle thought, “Now we have Malibu Skip to go with Malibu Ken.”
Cordelia glared at the two guys, trying to keep her anger in check. “No, trouble. Didn’t my friend here just get through saying that we don’t want any trouble? We’re trouble-free, okay?”
“Turns out,” Ken said to Skip, “She’s a hooker, and her pimp here is giving me a hard time.”
Cordelia hazel eyes flashed. “That’s it!” She raised her fist.
Doyle grabbed her arm. “Down, Cord....”
“Did you hear what he just said about me?”
Doyle nodded, then looked at the guys. “Everyone just simmer down here, okay? Violence isn’t going to solve a thing here.”
Suddenly, Cordelia smacked Ken in the nose with her free hand, knocking him on his ass.
Doyle sighed, releasing her arm. “On the other hand, it is kind of festive.”
“You bitch!” Pulling his hand away from his nose and seeing blood, Ken got up off the floor. “You broke my nose!”
Cordelia put her hands on her hips. “Oh please, you are such a crybaby. Believe me, if I’d wanted to break it, you’d know it. It might even improve your looks!”
“That’s it! I don’t take crap from two-bit whores,” Ken replied and charged.
She easily blocked his throw, then countered with a solid right hook to the jaw.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Doyle said, punching Skip, in the stomach when he tried to go after Cordelia.
“What the--,” yelled the bartender as he stepped in to break up the fight, when Skip, recovered from the punch, accidentally hit him in the face in an attempt to retaliate against Doyle.
“Oh, my God!” Cordelia said, and went to help the fallen bartender, while Doyle took care of Skip with another punch. She didn’t notice Ken come up behind her with a chair in his hands.
Suddenly, someone grabbed the chair from him as he raised it to strike her with it. He turned around, surprised to find himself face-to-face with a pissed-off Angel.
Tossing the chair aside, Angel grabbed Ken by the front of his shirt, and with a roar, threw him into a wall.
As Ken and Skip got up, two large bouncers finally showed up to halt the fight. The bartender, with Cordelia’s help, got back up and glared at Ken and Skip. “Not a word,” he said, rubbing his sore jaw. “Every time with you two guys. Throw them out!”
While the two bouncers and the bartender escorted Ken and Skip out, Angel looked at Cordelia, a frown on his face.
“Those two jerks started it!” she said, crossing her arms in front of her, unaware that she was giving Angel an enticing glimpse of her flat stomach. “So don’t be going all frowny on me.”
Angel sighed and looked at Doyle. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” he replied, flexing his right hand. “You?”
“Yeah. But, I think we’re done here,” he said, looking around at the crowd that was still staring at them. “Time to go.”
***
Laying on her back in Kevin’s bed, Sharon stared disappointedly at the ceiling. “It’s late....”she murmured, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Yeah,” Kevin replied, his voice emotionless as he stared at the ceiling too.
“I should probably....”
“I know.”
She sat up, holding her half of the sheet in front of her. “Well....”
He sat up and laid a hand on her bare shoulder. “If you have to leave, I understand, but I’d just like to hold you.”
Sharon looked at him, then nodded.
Together, they lay back down; Kevin spooning her from behind with a sigh.
***
Angel, Cordelia and Doyle sat around the table in an almost empty, 24-hour diner; three cups of coffee sitting in front of them.
“This socializing thing is brutal,” Angel said, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I was young once. I used to go to taverns. It wasn’t anything like that.”
Doyle nodded in agreement. “I used to go to pubs where everybody used to know each other.”
“Yeah, like High-school. It was easy to date there,” Cordelia added. “We all had so much in common. Being monster food every other week for instance.” She sighed, then looked at Angel. “I guess the single life’s particularly tough on you.”
He looked at her, confused. “Why?”
“Well, a couple of hundred years ago all you had to worry about was a hangover. Today, because of your curse thingy, you can’t sleep with anyone, or you might feel a moment of true happiness, lose your soul, become evil again and kill everyone.”
“Thanks Cordy, I always appreciate your perspective.”
She smiled at him. “No problem.” She took a sip of her coffee, then sighed in frustration. “You know, I’m having a hard time believing that Doyle’s vision meant we were supposed to go there and get involved in a bar fight.”
“Yeah, well, if it was,” Doyle said, rubbing the rapidly bruising knuckles of his right hand, “I’m in for some serious workman’s comp.”
“Alright,” Angel said, “Did either of you sense anything out of the ordinary? That anyone there tonight might not be of the human persuasion?”
“Sorry,” Cordelia said shaking her head. “Everyone I met seemed human to me...which is kind of funny, now that I think about it. Aren’t clubs a regular vamp playground?”
Angel nodded slowly.
“Maybe there’s something in the club that’s scaring off the vampires,” Doyle murmured.
“So tell me, besides a Slayer, who or what else are vamps afraid of?” Cordy asked.
They looked at Angel.
***
Sharon sat on the edge of Kevin’s bed, and quietly buttoned her blouse. Bending over, she grabbed her shoes and slipped them on. Then she stood up, grabbed her purse off the nightstand and left the room.
In the middle of the bed, Kevin, glassy-eyed, lay on his back; his torso split open from breast bone to navel.
ACT III
“This is completely whacked, man,” Doyle muttered, flipping through a stack of newspapers in the office, the next evening. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore.”
“You’re looking for any events in and around that bar,” Angel replied, walking past him to see what Cordelia had found on the computer. “How’s it going?” he asked her, leaning over her to look at the screen.
“Okay, I’m in the news group search engine. Now what is the name of that place again?”
“D’oblique. Capital D, apostrophe, o-b-l-i--.”
Cordelia waved her hands over the keyboard. “Not so fast. I’m a slayer, not Willow.”
“Sorry.”
She scanned the keyboard, then punched a key. “Okay...Capital D, apostrophe...apostrophe, apostrophe...oh, I got it. Okay, now what’s after that again?”
Unable to take any more, Doyle threw down the newspaper he’d been scanning. “You know, I need a break,” he said, getting up and walking over to Cordelia’s desk. “Let me get in here.”
Cordelia gladly gave up her seat in front of the computer to stand behind him and watch.
He slid into her chair and began typing very fast.
Angel looked impressed. “How’d you pick up computer skills?”
Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Downloading pictures of naked women?”
“Well, that’s more or less accurate,” Doyle said, looking slightly chagrined. Suddenly, the computer chimed and a list appeared on the screen. “Hello! We’ve got two hits.” He clicked the cursor on the first link.
Angel pointed at the news article on the screen. “Look at that. Search continues for Heather Nolan. Missing since late last month, the 24-year-old paralegal vanished after leaving a downtown bar called D’oblique.”
“Missing girl. That’s sounds a little more up our alley,” Cordelia said, nodding. “What’s the second one say?”
Doyle clicked on the link and read, “Badly mutilated body found in the dumpster nearly three weeks ago, described by the coroner’s office as eviscerated, has been positively identified as that of 28-year-old Martin Haber, last seen with an unidentified female companion at D’oblique, a trendy singles establishment.”
Angel straightened up and headed towards his office; Cordelia hot on his heels. “That’s it then,” he said, opening the small cabinet where he stored the weapons he used for Cordelia’s training. “Probably a lot more disappearances that the press hasn’t traced back to the bar yet.”
“So, we got a missing girl and a stiff,” Doyle said, leaning against the doorframe between the two offices.
Angel paused. “An eviscerated stiff.” He looked at Doyle. “Go downstairs and use the library. Try to narrow down a list of eviscerating demons, ones that might have reasons to prey on young singles,” he said, then grabbed a couple of wicked looking knives from the top shelf.
“Where are we going?” Cordelia asked, grabbing a couple of stakes from the cabinet.
“I’m going to the bar to see if I can meet a killer. You are staying here and helping Doyle.”
“I’m the Slayer, not Research Girl. I’m supposed to be helping you, not Doyle,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“Like you helped by starting that fight, last night? That’s not what I’ve been training you for.”
“That’s not fair Angel. He insulted me--.”
“It doesn’t matter Cordy. You’re different now, stronger. You have to use that strength wisely. Pick your battles, because it’s going to be a long war,” he said, heading for the door. “And when you’re ready to do that, then you can fight beside me.”
***
Wearing a low-cut, green silk dress, Sharon sat at a table in a dark, secluded corner of D’oblique, staring at the young man sitting across from her. She licked her glossy red lips, causing him to blush and stammer.
“It’s just my job,” he said, squirming a bit in his seat. “It’s hard to meet people. Everyone is watching their own back. It’s difficult...to know who you can trust.”
“Still, I’m surprised,” she said leaning in closer, “I would think that you’d have your pick of girls.”
“Yeah?” Pushing his glasses back up, he laughed uncomfortably. “Well, I–I don’t know. I was pretty much a spaz in high school. You know, a real ‘something’s out there’ geek with the gang of geek toy minions. I couldn’t get a date to save my life.”
Placing her hand on his knee, Sharon stared directly into his eyes and whispered huskily, “Well, it’s a good thing high school’s over.”
***
“You know, some guys have real problems,” Cordelia grumbled as she plopped down in the chair next to Doyle. She grabbed a book off the top of the stack sitting on the table in front of her and flipped it open. She nudged Doyle. ““Here’s one,” she said pointing at a picture. “Piasca. It’s a flesh-eating Indian demon that enters victims through the mouth and eviscerates from within. You going to put that one down?”
“Yeah,” Doyle said, scribbling the name down on the tablet in front of him. “What problems?”
“Huh?”
“You said, some guys have real problems.”
“Angel,” she said, frowning, “Can you believe that he won’t let me go with him to hunt for this thing. Here I am the Slayer, but so far, all I’ve done is train and dust a few vamps while out on patrol. How am I supposed to do my ‘job’ if he won’t let me go on the mission?”
Doyle scratched his chin. “Well, he did have a point about using your strength wisely....”
“I get that,” she said, sighing. “And, I get that this is a lifetime job. But, if I ever want to be as good as Buffy, I have to actually fight something.”
“Did you ever think that maybe Angel’s scared?”
“Scared? He’s a vampire. What does he have to be scared of? Well, besides sunlight, fire, stakes or decapitation.”
“Angel’s already lost one Slayer. Buffy should have had a normal life once her destiny with the Master was fulfilled, but instead, she was called into service by the Powers and died while fighting the good fight. He feels guilty.”
“He always feels guilty. Hello? The whole reason for the gypsy curse.”
“True, but now you’re here, with the same job that Buffy had. You’re his friend, Cordy. Buffy sacrificed herself to save the world. He doesn’t want you to do the same.”
She looked startled. “You really think Angel sees me as a friend?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You know, because in high school, I was really the outsider of the Scoobies, and Angel...well, he was pretty much wrapped up in the Buffy love. We never talked much.”
He shrugged. “High school’s long over, Cordy. Everything’s different now. Ask him yourself.”
***
Angel sat at the bar, silently sipping his water and scanning the crowd of D’oblique. He gave a cursory glance and sniff at the dark-haired guy who stepped up to the bar next to him, then quickly dismissed him as human.
“Yo man,” the guy said to the bartender, “Where’s Kevin?”
“Hell if I know. Haven’t seen him in here tonight. Why?”
“Dude didn’t show up for work today, and he’s not answering his phone.”
“Pretty sure I seen him hook up with some girl last night,” the bartender said. “He’s probably sleeping it off.”
Angel turned around and looked at the bartender. “What girl?” he asked.
The bartender shrugged. “Sharon. Her name is Sharon. Kind of a regular.”
The dark-haired man laughed. “Sharon? That dowdy chick? Ah, Kevin, scraping the bottom of the barrel.”
“Look, where can I find Sharon?” Angel asked the bartender.
“She’s in here tonight. No Kevin though. I guess it wasn’t true love after all,” he replied, looking over towards a table in the corner. “Hmmm, she was there just a minute ago, getting it on with some Screech.”
“Yeah, that’s definitely more her level,” the other man replied.
Angel frowned. “Any idea where she lives?”
“No.”
“What about a last name?”
The bartender shook his head. “Last name? Not a lot of last names in a place like this.”
“It’s Richler,” the dark-haired guy replied. He saw the bartender smirk. “Alright. I asked her out a couple times.”
Angel nodded and quickly walked away to go find a payphone and phonebook.
***
Sharon and her date lay in her bed staring up at the ceiling.
Her date turned to her. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wanted this to go better. Maybe I was trying too hard. I just really like you. Next time, it’ll be better.”
“Roll over,” she whispered, turning on her side to face him.
“Okay...,” he replied, rolling over.
Sharon spooned up behind him, her expression emotionless.
“This is nice,” he murmured, smiling. “I think sometimes what we really need is--. Ahh!” He suddenly screamed in pain and fear as he felt something bite him in the back.
Behind him, Sharon lay silently, looking like death, as the large, reptilian-looking worm that had emerged from her chest, burrowed, teeth first, into her date.
***
Phonebook page in hand, Angel raced up the stairs of Sharon’s apartment building. As he reached the hallway of her floor, an all-too familiar scent assaulted his nostrils. He quickly followed the smell of blood and death down the hall and to Sharon’s door.
Kicking in the door, he grimly scanned her apartment as the realization of what his being able to enter uninvited meant. Spotting an open door, he walked over to it and saw Sharon laying in her bed, looking like week-old corpse. As he stepped into her bedroom, he saw a shirtless man standing by the window, and the tail end of a large worm-like creature disappearing into the man’s back, leaving no visible marks behind.
“You’re not human,” the man said, pulling on his sweater as he turned around to look at Angel.
“News flash, pal,” Angel growled. “You’re a bit off the evolutionary chart yourself.”
They both looked over at Sharon’s corpse.
“This has to stop,” Angel said, glaring at the man. “You have to stop.”
“I will,” the man replied, “When I find the right one...the one I can stay with.”
“The right body? What’s wrong with this one?” Angel demanded angrily.
The man shrugged. “Nothing...yet. It’s new and different. It's great...but it won’t last. I already know it’s not the one I can live in.”
“Well, then,” Angel growled, morphing into vamp face, “It’ll have to be the one you die in.”
ACT IV
Doyle and Cordelia walked into her apartment, each carrying a stack of demonology books. Cordelia flipped on the overhead light, and cockroaches scattered for their hiding places.
Doyle looked around at the bare, crumbling plaster walls and sparse furnishings. When he stepped on a stray cockroach, he looked up at her with a disgusted look on his face.
“Ugh,” she said, giving him look, as she put her stack of books on the kitchen table. “Don’t start okay? Angel told us to meet here, so we’re meeting here. Believe me, I’m not real thrilled about the roaches either. Lord only knows what they’re living on. It’s not like I have any food in this place.”
Glancing at the bare kitchen counters and shelves, he nodded as he placed his stack on the table as well. As he bent to move the basket of laundry from a chair, he spotted the pale blue bra sitting on top of the pile. Grinning, he grabbed it and held it up to his chest.
She snatched it away from him. “That is so high school!” she said, throwing it back in the basket before moving it to her bed. “‘Cordelia wears bras. Oh, she has girly parts!’”
“And what nice girly parts they are too,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Rolling her eyes, she heard a knock at the door and went to answer it. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Angel said, his voice slightly muffled.
She opened the door. “Oh, my God! Are you okay?” she asked, staring at Angel’s disheveled appearance and bloody lip.
Angel wiped at the blood on the corner of his mouth, wincing slightly. He shuffled self-consciously as he stood in the open doorway. “Look, I-I can’t, um....”
“Invite him in!” Doyle said, as he hurried over to the doorway. “As long as you’re alive, vampires can’t cross the threshold unless you--.”
“I know!” she said, shaking her head. “Slayer, remember? Kind of have to know the rules.” She looked at Angel and raised an eyebrow. “You promise you’ll stay good?”
“Cordelia,” he whined.
“Kidding. Come in.”
As Cordelia closed the door, Doyle looked Angel up and down. “What happened to you, man? You look wrecked!”
Angel started to answer, then stopped as he noticed his surroundings. He glanced around the Spartan apartment, raising an eyebrow at the cockroach that skittered across the kitchen counter and into the sink. He looked back at Cordelia and grinned. “You actually live here?”
“Yes, okay?” she said, taking off her tennis shoe and throwing it with deadly accuracy at another roach that had just crawled out of a hole in the far wall. “Is it my fault that Daddy didn’t believe in paying taxes? It was supposed to go, home, hotel, hotel, husband.” She retrieved her shoe. “Now, can we move on?”
“Well, we put together that list of eviscerating demons that you asked for,” Doyle said, pulling a piece of paper out of the book on top of his stack. “We actually narrowed it down to three or four.”
“I saw it. It’s a burrower,” Angel said. “It eviscerates its victims as it moves from body to body, and it may only be able to do it after some kind of a sex act, exchange of fluids kind of thing.”
Cordelia scrunched up her nose. “Eww!”
Doyle sighed. “Lovely.”
“Look, I want you to find out anything you can about this thing, especially weaknesses,” Angel said, rubbing his faintly bruised jaw. “It was amazingly strong while we were fighting. I stabbed it, but it just kept coming. It’s going to be hard to kill.”
Doyle nodded. “We’re on it.” He headed over to the table and started shuffling through the stacks of books.
“Good.” Angel headed towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Cordelia asked.
He looked at her. “There’s still plenty of night left. I’m going to get back to the club. See if I can find this thing.”
“What makes you think that it will show? It knows that you’re after it.”
“It’ll be out there,” he said, opening the door. “It’s got to keep trying to make a connection.”
“Why?”
He looked at her, the guilt and sadness of his soul shining in his dark brown eyes. “Because, that’s what lonely people do,” he said, and shut the door.
***
I can feel it coming in the air tonight
The woman laughed as she chatted with the charismatic, though slightly geeky-looking man sitting at the corner table across from her. She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and nodded when he reached across the table and covered her hand with his, smiling seductively.
And I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life
Angel entered D’oblique and began to sniff. The aroma of sex hung heavily in the air. As he walked through the gyrating crowd, sniffing, he caught the familiar scent of the burrower demon. He quickly followed it, past the empty table in the corner and out
through the back entrance.
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight?
Cordelia sighed and rubbed her bloodshot eyes. She couldn’t read anymore. She needed to get out of her apartment for a while.
Glancing over at Doyle who’d fallen asleep on her bed with a book in his lap, she smiled softly. Quietly, she got up, went to her closet and pulled out her gym bag of stakes. After placing two in the waistband of her jeans, she slung the bag over her shoulder and headed out the door.
Well if you told me you were drowning,
I would not lend a hand.
She kissed him and smiled. He led her to his bedroom. She removed her dress and laid down across the dark blue comforter on his bed. He watched her hungrily as he undressed, pulling his sweater off.
I’ve seen your face before my friend,
But I don’t know if you know who I am.
Pulling out a stake, Cordelia dropped her bag in the doorway of her apartment building. Two vampires, their game faces on, stood near the streetlight holding a terrified hooker. Slowly, Cordelia sauntered over to them, licking her lips, a deadly gleam in her eyes.
Well I was there and I saw what you did,
I saw it with my own two eyes.
Angel walked the streets, trying to catch a whiff of the burrower demon. He ignored the prostitutes and drug pushers that hung out on the street corners. More lost souls, damned by their vices and circumstances, just like him.
So you can wipe off that grin,
I know where you’ve been.
The vampires released the terrified girl they were holding, and shoved her into the street where she landed in the gutter. With feral smiles, saliva dripping from their fangs, they advanced on the pretty brunette before them.
It’s all been a pack of lies.
She lay next to him in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondered what had gone wrong. At the club, he’d been so irresistible, suave and charming. She’d felt a connection. But, now....
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight,
Angel stared at the lights of Los Angeles from his rooftop perch. He’d lost the scent. He knew the demon would be inhabiting another body by now. He glanced at the eastern horizon. He still had another hour to hunt.
Well, I’ve been waiting for this moment, for all my life
Cordelia palmed another stake and flipped over the vampires, turning in mid-air to land facing their backs. Before they had time to react, she simultaneously slammed a stake into each, smirking as their dust settled over her, coating her dark brown hair with a gray film.
I can feel it coming in the air tonight,
She stood up from the bed and walked over to the window. Staring out at the world, her gaze was dark and lonely. On the bed, the man’s gaze was cold and dead.
Well, I’ve been waiting for this moment, for all my life
Oh Lord...oh Lord....
***
Angel entered Cordelia’s apartment just as the first rays of the morning sun crested the horizon. He paused when he saw Doyle and Cordelia, each with a book in their lap, sleeping soundly, slumped up against the headboard of her bed. Silently, he stared at Cordelia and wondered if he had the strength to watch another innocent girl sacrifice her life in order to help him redeem his soul.
Suddenly, Cordelia opened her hazel-colored eyes, meeting his gaze. She smiled sleepily. “Morning,” she murmured, then nudged Doyle with her elbow.
Doyle started awake and saw Angel standing at the foot of the bed. “Hey,” he said, getting up and quickly moving away from the bed at the intense look on Angel’s face. “Uh, so...any luck yet?”
“No, not yet.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I know I can recognize this thing if I saw it in another body.”
“That narrows it down to what? Five million suspects in the naked city?” Doyle asked.
Angel massaged the bridge of his nose. “How about you?” he asked Cordelia, “Did you find anything?”
“Yeah.” She handed him the book on her lap. “We found a name for this guy...um, Tahlmer. He’s been around forever. A dawn of time kind of demon.”
He looked at the picture in the book. “Any weaknesses?”
“Few and far between,” Doyle replied, grabbing his pad of paper from the table. “This kid is strong like you said. Not to crazy about fire though.”
“Something we have in common.”
“It’s a parasite,” Cordelia added, “It moves from body to body. And when it leaves one for the next, not going to gag here, but the first one goes kaplooey pretty fast.”
Doyle nodded. “Yep, curdles like cream on a hot day.”
“I’ll head back out after the sun sets for the evening,” Angel said, standing up and heading for the door.
“You’re going to need help tracking this thing,” Cordelia said, getting up and following him. “And since I got this whole Slayer sense--.
“No.” Angel opened the door.
“Why not?”
He turned and looked at her. “I told you last night--.”
“I heard you,” she said, crossing her arms. “And, I’m picking my battles. This Tahlmer demon is it.”
“You’re not ready to take on something this strong.”
“Maybe I am, and maybe I’m not. But, I’ll never know unless I try.”
“And trying can get you killed.”
“I know, but that’s the nature of the job that the Powers have seen fit to give me.”
“I don’t want you going back to the club. It’s not safe.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what...I can go where ever I want, and you can go to hell!” Cordelia stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Angel sighed, ignoring Doyle’s shocked expression. “Been there, done that,” he murmured, then walked out the door.
***
Cordelia scanned the bar area of D’oblique, then smiled. “Good. I beat him here,” she thought as she sat down at a corner table with her back to the wall. “Try and keep me from doing my job. Stupid vampire. I mean really, what’s the use of having Slayer strength if I don’t use it?”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She looked at the bartender standing next to the table. “No thanks,” she said, handing him her business card. “Do you remember that guy that was in here the other night? He was tall, nice-looking, helped you out in the bar fight the other night?”
He nodded slowly, studying the card. “Sure, sure.”
“Let me know as soon as he comes in, okay?” she asked, giving him her mega-watt smile.
“Yeah, you bet,” he replied, smiling back before walking off.
She kept scanning the crowd, trying not to feel guilty for lying to Doyle about having an acting class tonight. She didn’t need him interfering with her plan to garner attention from the males in the club. She figured if this demon inhabited a male body, there was no way it could resist the charms of Queen C. And if it was in a female body, well...that’s what Angel was for.
“God, I hate places like this, don’t you?”
She looked at the man standing by her table and tried not to snicker at his bad toupee. “I do, but, um....”
He sat down. “I kind of guessed that. You really don't look like you’re in your element here. Which is a compliment, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “But actually, I’m waiting for someone.”
The bartender approached the table. “Hey, you know that guy you’re looking for? I think he’s out in the alley.”
She frowned. “What’s he doing out there?”
“I was just taking out some trash and there he was. Looked like he was ready to rabbit.”
She stood up. “Show me.” Then, she looked at the guy still sitting at the table. “Sorry, I guess you have to keep trolling,” she said and walked off, following the bartender towards the back of the bar area.
Stepping through the back door, she scanned the alley. Her Slayer sense tingled. “Angel?” She moved over towards the dumpster. “Angel?”
Checking behind the dumpster, Cordelia gasped at the sight of the eviscerated corpse of a young woman with long brown hair laying at her feet. Turning to tell the bartender to call 911, she suddenly saw stars as he smashed a heavy board into her temple. She slumped to the ground, fighting the need to slip into unconsciousness.
Throwing his makeshift weapon down, the bartender quickly looked around. Seeing no one else, he reached down and pulled the stunned Cordelia up by her hair. He licked his lips at the bare expanse of back that her top exposed.
ACT V
Holding a semi-conscious Cordelia with one hand, the bartender quickly ripped open his shirt with his free hand. The Tahlmer emerged from the center of the bartender’s bare chest, making its way towards Cordelia’s exposed back.
Suddenly, a board knocked the bartender upside the head, causing him to drop Cordelia and stagger backwards. The Tahlmer retracted back, leaving a bright red mark on his chest.
Tossing the board aside, Angel crouched down next to Cordelia. As he turned her over, she moaned. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her slightly. “Cordy!” he said, panicked, as her eyes fluttered open. “Cordy? Can you move?”
Cordelia blinked in confusion, then focused on the ominous-looking figure rising up behind Angel. “Move!” she yelled.
Angel pulled her with him, rolling away, just as the bartender slammed an empty metal beer keg down on the spot where they’d just been.
Snarling in frustration, the bartender turned to go after his prey, when Angel popped up, and kicked him in the face. He staggered back, regained his balance then fixed his gaze on the vampire.
Angel stared at the flap of skin that now hung loose from the man’s forehead and smirked. “I guess you’re done with that body. You don’t get to finish you just come apart at the seams.”
With speed impossible for a human, the bartender sprang at Angel, grabbed him by the head and slammed him face first, into the chain-link fence at the end of the alley.
Angel slammed his head back into the bartender’s face, then holding onto the fence, he swung up his legs and wrapped them around the man’s neck. Twisting his body, he threw the man to the ground. However, the bartender rebounded quickly, lifted him up and slammed him into a wall.
While Angel tried to get his bearings straight, Cordelia ran at the bartender and jumped, intending to kick him in the head. Instead, he grabbed her foot and swung her around, using her own momentum against her, to throw her into the heavy, metal dumpster. Her head connected with a resounding crack, and she dropped to the ground.
“Cordy!” Angel rushed to her crumpled form.
The bartender took the opportunity to flee, darting through the club’s back door.
***
Checking his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall behind the bar, the bartender pushed the loose skin on his forehead back into place. Glancing around, he checked to see if anyone had noticed. They hadn’t.
He spotted a young blonde dancing near the end of the bar. Trying to act cool, he walked up to her. “Hey, how’s it going? Been noticing how gracefully you move and I was wondering would you like to dance or something? Because I wish I could move like....”
She turned around and looked at him. Running her gaze over his disheveled appearance, she shook her head, turned and danced away.
Frustrated, he walked up behind two girls sitting at the bar. “Hey, excuse me. That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing. It really brings out the color of you skin.”
She turned to look at him.
Nervously, he wiped his forehead, unknowingly dislodging the flap of loose skin.
Grimacing with disgust, she got up and walked off.
Now sweating profusely, he turned to the other girl. “Hey, would you like a drink or something? Because, I’m like the bartender here.”
She looked at him, then hurried after her friend.
“I just want to talk to somebody,” he yelled after her. “Open up...I want to make a connection.”
Ignoring the disgusted stares of the people around him, he rubbed the sweat off his face and headed for the tall brunette standing by herself near the edge of the dance floor. As he walked up behind her, he held his arms open. “Please,” he said desperately, “I just want to hold you.”
The girl spun around and gasped at the sight of his skin peeling back in patches from his face. She ran off.
***
Cordelia groaned as Angel helped her sit up. “Did you get the license of that truck that just ran over my head?”
“Are you okay?” he asked anxiously, trying to feel for lumps on her head. He couldn’t smell any blood. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
She waved him away. “Ow, Angel. Stop it. Over protective much?”
“How many fingers Cordy?”
“Two...that you’ll soon be missing if you don’t let me up. I’m fine. Slayer healing ability is kicking in.” She looked around the alley as she stood up. “Where did Worm Man go? We can’t let him get away!”
“He went back in the club,” he said, looking at the back door. “The body is starting to fall apart. He’s going to kill again, now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ya think?” She walked over to the door and tried to open it. “Now what?” she asked, when it remained firmly closed.
Angel threw himself against the heavy, metal door. It didn’t budge.
They looked at each other, then together, they both kicked the door.
It slammed open with a resounding crash.
“Very nice,” Cordelia murmured, as they hurried inside and into the crowded bar area.
“I don’t see him,” he yelled, over the blasting techno music.
“Over there!” She pointed at the bartender as he ducked out the front entrance.
Quickly making their way through the crowded dance floor, they burst through the front doors and onto the crowded sidewalk.
“I don’t see him,” she said, scanning the people milling around on the sidewalk.
Angel looked up and down the street. “He could have gone either way. You go that way,” he said pointing up the street, “And, I’ll go this way.”
Cordelia nodded and ran off.
Angel felt a twinge of guilt as he ran in the opposite direction, following the scent of the rapidly, decaying body and the Tahlmer demon.
Running down a side street, past a couple of homeless men standing around a burning barrel, Angel followed the scent into an alley, where the bartender was holding a terrified girl. He launched himself feet first at the man, knocking him away from his intended victim and into a wall.
Angel looked at the dumbfounded girl, who stood there frozen with fear. He shifted into gameface. “Run!” he snarled.
Screaming, she did.
Angel fought the man with everything he had, using his full vampire strength. But the Tahlmer demon was too strong, even with it’s host body looking more and more battered and decayed. Before he knew it, Angel found himself lying on his back outside the alley, as the bartender leapt at him, a makeshift stake in hand, to deliver a killing blow. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the bartender’s foot and catapulted him over his head into the burning barrel.
As the bartender staggered to his feet, Angel, once more wearing his human face, saw that the guy was now a human torch. Too injured to move, Angel lay there and watched helplessly as the burning man stumbled towards him.
Suddenly, a knife imbedded into the bartender’s chest, the impact causing him to stumble back and fall to the ground in his final death throes.
Angel looked behind him to see Cordelia standing there, another knife in her hand, looking every inch the Slayer that she’d said she was. She looked down at him, frowning, and Angel knew, as he began to lose consciousness, that when he woke up, he was dust.
***
Pacing behind his desk, Angel looked sheepishly at Cordelia sitting in the chair in front of it. He swallowed hard. She was wearing that clingy, red halter top again.
“Something you want to say to me, Broody Boy?” Cordelia asked, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow.
“Um, yeah.... I-I owe you an apology...for last night.”
She nodded. “Damn straight. Anything else?”
“I was rude and insensitive,” he mumbled. “You’re the Slayer, and peril is part of the job. And, since you seemed to have accepted that, I guess I can too.”
“And....”
He looked at the ceiling. “And, I will never intentionally send you the wrong way again while we’re chasing bad guys in order to keep you safe.”
“Okay, then...you’re forgiven,” she said, smiling.
He stopped pacing and looked at her, surprised by the easy absolution. “We can start fresh?”
“Sure, why not. By the way, I didn’t thank you for saving my life.”
He grinned. “I think saving mine is a start.”
She shrugged. “Hey, that’s what friends do for each other.”
“W-we’re...friends?”
“Duh.”
He looked questioningly over at Doyle, who’d been sitting in the chair next to Cordelia listening silently.
“What the princess said, Broody Boy.”
“Well, okay then...,” Angel said, looking suddenly self-conscious again. “I guess we could...well, I’m thinking we could, you know, the night being young and all...that the three of us could...well, should...you know, maybe...go out and celebrate. You know...for fun.”
Cordelia looked at Doyle. “Or, we can go out, dust some vamps, get in a little training and then hit a 24 hour diner for some cheap, greasy food.”
Doyle nodded at her. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
They stood up and headed for the door.
Angel, still standing behind his desk, breathed a sigh of relief. “God, yes! Thank you!” He grabbed his leather jacket from the back of his chair. “I swear,” he said, following them to the front door, “If I saw one more club this week, I was going to go crazier than Dru. Killing things...definitely much more relaxing.”
Cordelia and Doyle looked at one another, rolled their eyes and kept right on walking towards the elevator.
“Hey guys, wait up.” Angel flipped off the lights and shut the door.
"I‘ve seen a lot during my many years of existence and learned many lessons. But the biggest one is that everybody needs to feel a connection with someone else, whether it be love of family, love of friends or love of the heart. I used to have all three, but I lost them one by one. But now...now, I’ve found at least one of them again....”
FADE TO BLACK
END OF EPISODE