Title: Without You
Author: Helen
Posted: 12-16-2003
Email: helen_taft@msn.com
Rating: NC-17
Category:
Content: C/A
Summary:
Spoilers:
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: This is for Scorchy and thanks for such a lovely challenge Hun. Here’s the details for ya: Demons have totally taken over Sunnydale, there's no Slayer or Watcher and there's only Cordy and Willow of the main SG around. The humans that are left alive are hiding out in caves, tunnels and whatnot.
Angel still has his soul but he's very Beigy as in dominent, overbearing, growly and snarly. He's with Spike at the mansion in Sunnydale and though he has a soul, he's not really all that bothered about the state of things!
One night when it's Cordy's turn to go get food for her and Willow, she runs into Angel and Spike who force her to take them to hers and Willow's little hideout. The vampires take both girls as slaves and things happen!!!
In my version I planned to have Angelus not Angel but to be honest, this would be more fun if it was Beige Angel!
Scenes to include if you choose to take this...
1) On a particularly rioty night, Cordy gets scared (bless her) and climbs into bed with Angel (sweet!).
2) Angel getting her to do proper slave things like wash his clothes, run his bath etc etc!
Whatever you do with Spike and Willow is entirely up to you, pair em up if ya like!
Feedback: Yeah feed me!
Thanks/Dedication:Part 10 Continued...
“Time to ante up, Angel. I’ve come for the girl”. Blue eyes raked his charcoal pants and plain black knitted sweater in rank distaste, not exactly surprising since she’d always been one to gild the lily.
Darla’s lips split into a wide smile as she saw the dark eyes of her childe assess the strength of the guard she’d brought with her. More of her natural arrogance returned as her resolve was boosted. Whatever game he thought he was playing now didn’t matter. The outcome was assured. Or so she thought.
“You’re too late” Angel quirked a brow and rubbing a finger over his smiling bottom lip as he gave her the ‘bad’ news. “She ran off yesterday and so far- no luck in finding her”. Knowing he’d stunned her, he shrugged heavily and then crossed his fingers over his taut abdomen to wait for Darla to snap her jaw closed.
“You’re lying” refuted Darla harshly. Her soft voice, grating with furious denial. Behind her the four vamps shifted restlessly and the aggression level rose. Angel’s keen, battle honed senses tingled in awareness of just how badly his announcement had been received. Hmm, Darla must have offered added incentives for this little adventure.
The ice in his chest became an instant inferno of savagery at that deduction but his hard won control kept his face expressionless and body utterly still.
“’Fraid not, Darla” he replied, mockingly apologetic, “guess you made a wasted trip, guys”. The obvious mockery, added to the complete lack of reaction, either anger or fear was a red flag to the vamps and they surged forward as one. Darla turned a glare on them and they stilled immediately.
“Tsk, tsk, Darla. Need to keep a leash on those dogs of yours” Angel warned softly, a gleam in the depths of his eyes. It occurred to him that he now had a valid target to vent some of his more... wrathful feelings on. Anticipation zinged through his system at the promise this little get-together offered.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Angelus. Not long ago you danced to my tune” snarled Darla as she walked to stand beside his chair; the flickering flames in the hearth bathed her body from behind, highlighting her lush female figure through the thin pale blue cotton.
Perfect! “You do realise that standing there means your as good as naked- right”? Angel asked silkily and grinned when her eyes shot to his and then to their shuffling audience.
“Of course you do, how could I forget how vain you are”? Darla hissed at the insult, Angel raised his voice but didn’t look away from his simmering sire. “Look your fill guys, don’t want to disappoint the lady and since she leaves me cold...” he shrugged again.
There was a stunned moment where everyone except Angel froze. But before her guards could leap to defend her ‘honour’ Darla spat out an order to search the house, warning harshly that they’d better leave no stone unturned; there was a clear threat hovering over what would happen if they were sloppy.
“That was stupid and reckless, Dearest. What’s the matter, the girl got you all tied up in knots and now you need an outlet- is that it”? The sweet purr was filled with false compassion.
Knowing what was coming; Angel tensed imperceptivity but kept his nonchalant tip-tilted smile in place. What had he expected, she did know him too well after-all; at least the more violent side of him anyway.
Darla’s eyes were freezing over a ‘cat got the cream’ smile. She’d seen the flash of temper in his eyes and satisfaction flared. Still all sweetness she flopped in the opposite chair and crossing her legs gracefully, cocked her head in sympathy. It was all the warning he got.
“So tell me what happened, Angel. Did it turn out you weren’t the vampire of her dreams after-all”? She made a moue with her full lips and her eyes gleamed with secret knowledge. “And after you made such sweet lurve to her too”.
Angel froze and almost black eyes swept over her in disgust. “Playing voyeur again, Darla”?
Darla waved a dismissive hand. “Answer the question, Angel. What made the little human run”? There was an avid gleam in her eyes that made his belly clench in revulsion.
“Honestly- I have no idea” He lied smoothly and stood up. “When I find out I’ll be sure to let you know”.
He had to shove his hands into his pockets to stop from reaching out and just snapping her neck. She’d probably like that, he thought. Remembering all the times when they’d been lovers that she’d deliberately provoke him to violence just so he’d hurt her.
Darla stood up too, and before he knew it they were so close her breasts almost brushed his middle. Angel immediately stepped back and crossed his arms, not even hiding the reason why he did so and quirked a brow. “Are we finished here? Cos I have a runaway to find”.
“Do you realise I could take you back in chains for even losing her, Angel. Remember the deal? It didn’t include carelessly misplacing one of the humans we generously let you keep to play with”. Darla was smarting from his mute, repeated rejection of her charms and it made her doubly poisonous.
Angel was well past caring about that. He leaned in to say with soft, seriousness. “Try it, and I’ll rip your toyboy’s heads off and then.., well then it’s your turn, only not so quick. Know what I mean”?
Darla blinked and stared into the dark pitilessness of his eyes and a thrill flew with swift wings over every nervecell. If she’d have been breathing it would have lodged in her chest. She hadn’t seen him like this since he’d gotten that cursed soul of his. A wild crazy hope staggered her. Could this be the start of his decline back into the murderous and revered vampire he’d once been?
Behind them Spike and Willow came down the stairs, escorted by the four vampires. “That’s the wrong girl, you idiots” snapped Darla but with only half the heat of earlier.
With difficulty she dragged her eyes off Angel’s face and turned towards a stiffly rebellious Spike and wary Willow. “I’m surprised you didn’t dive in uselessly with your fists, Spike. What’s wrong, domesticity taming you too”? She taunted.
“Do me a favour, grandma; just waiting to see if it’s necessary first”.
Spike met Angels pointed look and stiffened even more. He recognised that itching for a fight look and a familiar rising flood of excitement warmed him from his toes to his eyebrows. “I’m hoping your little posse of wanker’s don’t disappoint me” he finished cockily.
That was the final spark needed for a conflagration and the whole room seemed to go off at once. Spike took the time to shove Willow out of harms way under a side table and then followed Angel into the fray with pounding fists and an exuberant yell.
Not known for stupidity, Darla edged towards the wall, out of the way of the flying furniture, numerous sharp wooden stakes, powerful arcing kicks and slamming fists. Blood spattered the walls from broken noses and jaws; bones crunched and snapped as two of the most notoriously despised and feared vampires in the New World laid waste to four fresh vampires, who’d had no inkling of what they were walking into.
In short order Darla was facing the heaving chests and exultant faces of her childe and grandchilde and for the first time in too long she felt a frisson of fear. Angel felt it like a shot of pure energy, and spoke with careful deliberation.
“Here’s the deal Darla, you get your ass outta my place and you live. Afterwards when I’m finished with her, then you get Cordelia.” Saying it made his fangs tingle and roughly he finished what he had to say. “Just like we agreed in the first place”.
He was sweaty and panting from the fight, not because of the need for air so much as the howls and growls of battle fury he’d been letting off, and simply because it felt damn good after a fight. Darla met his eyes and another shiver of delight coursed through her. “It’s a deal” she agreed without hesitation.
Inside she was quivering with recognition of her true childe. Oh gods, he’s coming back. Angelus my boy. My dear, dear boy.
Darla left with a single backward glance that held enough yearning to raise a tear, thought Angel hiding a smirk of wicked satisfaction. Adrenaline still pumped through his system and his patience level was at an all time low. Willow picked a bad time to take umbrage with him about his newest deal with Darla.
She crawled out from under the table and before she’d even straightened she launched a scathing attack. “What the heck was that all about huh? You’re just gonna hand Cordy over like a … lamb to the slaughter” her voice was high-pitched in indignation and red blood burst under the skin of her cheeks in a deep emotional flush.
“Careful, Pet. You’re going to give yerself a ‘earttack and me deafness going on like that” interrupted Spike sardonically as he too struggled to come down from a killing high.
“Gotta admit though, Angel me old mate. You had me dumbstruck too” he added before Willow could work past the temper clogging her vocal cords. They both turned to look at the hard, starkly brooding face of the dark vampire.
Angel returned their look for a moment before turning away with freezing detachment. “I’m going out. I’ll be back when I’m back so don’t wait up”, he informed them without any inflection in his deep voice, and grabbing his duster off the rack, shrugged into it.
“Angel” insisted Willow with an edge of desperation.
“Mind your own business”. He whirled to stalk towards the inflamed red-head, so fast she was forced to backup instinctively. Angel towered over the human girl and then stabbed a finger towards his chest as his face contorted with fury.
“Cordelia’s mine to do whatever I goddamn please with- something she seems to have forgotten. Don’t make the same mistake”. Before Willow could recover or Spike protest, the door slammed closed behind his leather coated figure.
Part 11
FLASHBACK - CORDELIA (The night before)
It was dark. Not just your murky dark either but an impenetrable blackness that seemed to suck all the civilisation out of you, leaving you want to scream and pound the walls in a desperate bid for light and fresh air.
Cordelia hated being miserable and she especially hated being cold and miserable. Worst of all though, was not being able to do a damn thing about either. Cordy hugged her arms to try and retain body heat, wishing she’d picked warmer clothes from the dried laundry stack she’d raided before escaping.
Geeze, this place is even more of a hellhole than I’d expected and I’d been prepared for a lot!
The beam from the hats torch played over the uneven porous surface of the rock walls, while in the background the old woman’s voice, droned on as Cordelia struggled valiantly not to think- at all. Thinking leads to actual, honest to goodness thoughts. Like what the hell am I doing here? And since when did my IQ level drop to moronic? Panic threatened to creep up to the surface.
”Through there is the laboratory, where we find ways to power our little community, including these beauties” The hard hat got an affectionate pat, and the torch beam wobbled on the opposite wall, next to yet another dark man sized hole. Yeah, whatever, just add it to my gotta miss list. That was Willows kind of place not hers.
“and just a little ways along is the infirmary, leading to the prayer rooms or contemplation rooms, whatever your preference” . Great so long as they don’t hold séances in there, thought Cordelia while a headache built behind her eyes. She was tired, God- I’m so bone achingly tired. Can we just move this along a bit, she kept her mouth firmly closed in case the words dropped out of their own accord.
The voice persisted despite her lack of interest. They walked a bit further on; rounding a corner so sharp two people couldn’t pass through at once.
“What’s that smell”? She asked abruptly undisguised revulsion in every word. Uh oh, Crap! Cordelia grimaced and tried to turn it into a smile for the amused gaze of her all together too sharp, elderly guide.
“Yes it is pretty awful isn’t, my dear? But trust me so much better than the alternative, which is untreated sewerage. The smell is from a mix of chemicals that we’ve discovered breaks down human waste to manageable levels. It also has the added benefit of smelling exactly like a common kind of demon; reducing the risk of discovery”.
“Nifty” lied Cordy with as straight a face as she could pull up. Anything that smelled that bad was no great discovery in her book.
“It’s a big place,” she offered, compromising and aiming to say something that was truthful yet not offensive. It was big, huge in fact for a human conclave buried deep underground. That was part of her problem; she found it unnerving to find it filled with so many humans. She’d been taught not to gather in large groups- as it made for a bigger, more obvious target and presented a nearly irresistible temptation to the demon population.
Not to mention cramped and Ewww! The smell! To put it mildly it stank to high heaven of unwashed bodies, that godawful chemicals crap and sweat. What did you expect Cor? The Beverley Wiltshire? She shook her head to stop the unwelcome musing and carried on breathing through her mouth.
“It is that- but with the numbers we have here, big is necessary” agreed the older woman who’d identified herself as Deidra. Unfortunately she’d faded again.
I should have just gone in there and kicked his bony ass, stormed Cordelia silently, Then I wouldn’t be here and none of this would matter. Distantly she heard her name called and realised she’d been standing there with a hard gleam in her eyes and obviously not listening to a word.
“What oh sorry- little distracted” she shook her head and her ponytail swung in a dark, glossy sway. Then trying for a wide smile, she forced her reluctant attention back to the guided tour. “Ignore me, okay. Walking all day always turns my head to total mush”.
Hurriedly, Cordy hunted for a topic that would help disguise her funk. “What was this place again”? She followed it with a polite apologetic smile for forgetting what she’d already been told; or more accurately not been listening to. Too busy brooding over ‘sicko’ vamp and his playmates. Lips tightening with annoyance at herself, she turned back to the other woman.
As one they both surveyed the pale mud coloured rock walls, dotted here and there with slashes of luminous paint. Not so random markings that likely acted as guides to those in the know. Deidra’s gaze was filled with familiarity, a contrast to Cordelia’s desperate, but poorly concealed unease; seeing it, Deidra tried not to let her smile spread.
Ignoring the brunette’s start of surprise, she hooked a friendly arm though hers to lead her further in, talking while they walked. “It used to be a lot of things, my dear. Collapsed cemetery, natural caves and parts of it a much older set of catacombs dating back further than this region was known to be inhabited from”.
Not known for being a history buff, Cordelia just raised her brows “right, catacombs”. Dead places, she thought with a feeling of morbid doom. All but forgotten and buried deep beneath the earth; now turned into a herbal centre, sewerage plant, kitchens with running water no less and portable gas burners, according to her guide anyway. If she wasn’t actually here herself, and forced to contemplate living inside it. She might have been impressed.
Right- reality check! I hated *camping* with a passion and that was with modern sanitation and full size pool within arm’s reach. She’d grown soft living in the mansion, Cordy chastised herself and knowing she had to say something, she averted her face and mumbled, “sounds great”.
This time Deidra’s smile did widen. “Forget history, this is home now,” she advised softly but with an understanding look on her wizened old face that took the rebuke out of the statement. “You’ll get used to it, and to us,” she continued, her voice almost mesmerising in its sincerity.
Cordelia wanted to trust her, and was instantly overwhelmed by the need to trust someone. But she’d done that once and just now it seemed impossible to open herself up to that kind of hurt again. As far as faith in her own judgement went, hers was at an all-time low. That pricked her temper and fair or not, she levelled it at the nearest target.
“What about the others here”? She demanded, stopping abruptly. “I mean they weren’t exactly effusive with the welcome if you know what I mean”? She pinned Deidra’s silver grey eyes with sharp hazel, mutely demanding an honest answer.
Deidra didn’t pretend to misunderstand and her soft, wrinkled face was rueful. “What did you expect Cordelia. You turned up out of the blue, wearing decent clothes and obviously well fed and cared for. That’s a lot more than most here can claim. They don’t trust you anymore than you trust them”. This time the rebuke remained in that blunt answer.
Cordelia thought about it for a second. “Okay, I can get that. Nothing I can do about it either; so we’ll just have to go on with the not trusting. But tell me something; am I safe here? I’ve heard stories of these ‘sanctuary’s”. Deidra wasn’t the only one who could be blunt. She’d find Cordelia could match anyone in that arena.
The two women faced each other with only the thin, yellow light from the electric torch on Deidra’s yellow hardhat to reflect on their faces. The air itself seemed to turn colder as with bated breath Cordy hoped for a hot denial, even dumb confusion would do, unfortunately she got neither.
The white head with the silly hat nodded, and with a pensive face Deidra solemnly replied. “These are hard times and like any it can bring the less…. Nice aspects of human nature to the fore”. The surprisingly husky voice was solemn but clearly unwilling to divulge more.
“Oh c’mon lets not pretty it up,” snapped Cordelia, interrupting and wheeling away with a wrench of her arm. “You’re talking about rape”. She accused hotly. She stood arms akimbo and chest heaving, her face flushed with stormy temper, hazel eyes blazing with disgust.
“All-right lets not,” agreed the older woman with a sudden hard look in her silver grey eyes. “Many take their pleasure where they can find it and mostly both parties are agreeable, but sometimes ... not”. There it was, in uncompromising black and white.
“We do what we can to stop it. Deal harshly with offenders- but for some death is inevitable and so… life is cheap”. They stared at one another; two women, one old and one young, debating the harsh realities of life in a demon overrun hell.
Cordelia deflated and hugged her arms desperately around her chilled body. Having the reason why she’d never considered these places before confirmed was sickening given her current lack of options. “This is just great,” She whispered tonelessly. Talk about your pan and fire- great going Cor.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way and since you believe me. Believe this. That will not happen to you here. I won’t allow it”. The eyes were still hard, inflexible iron and for some reason Cordelia shivered.
She stared at Deidra and found to her own amazement she did believe her. Of course if she’d known then *why* she was to be protected, she might have understood her lack of relief at the news. Not to mention guilt at the special treatment.
Cordelia frowned and narrowed her eyes to slits of pure suspicion. “Why me? Why the special treatment”?
“Let’s just say I can sense the wind of change”. Replied Deidra cryptically, and then closed the question down by walking off in the direction they’d been heading in earlier. Cordelia had no choice but to go with her, or stay behind alone in the dark.
Ramming her freezing hands deep into the pockets of her denim jacket, she followed, bound and determined that she’d find a better answer in the very near future. If for no other reason that she hated being kept in the dark. The chill of being female and threatened remained but… life went on and she needed to learn the rhythm of this place before she decided what needed changing. That being the case, the chain of command had to be established.
“Are you the head honcho around here then”? Cordelia asked with only limited success in masking the incredulousness. In fact thinking back more clearly; she’d seen with her own eyes how the people, including the guys, deferred to this old woman. Not the least of which being her admittance when they’d been all set to turn her away.
“I have some authority, yes. Enough to keep you safe from any over ardent admirers at least”.
Cordelia stiffly inclined her head in acknowledgement, then quirked a brow and shrugged. “So now what”? She asked forthrightly tossing the other woman a sideways look. They’d crossed a line with their little debate and despite the lurking fear, she was actually glad some of the pretence had been stripped away. It was wearing on the nerves to be constantly guarding her words and expression.
“Now we go to the nursery,” answered Deidra as if that was obvious; her steps enviously light and assured on the uneven ground.
Cordelia halted in her tracks again and levelled a dark look at the oblivious Deidra. “What kind of nursery”? She growled, hands on hips. She’d better be talking plants here.
“You know… childcare centre and things. It’s not much but we’ve done what we can. That’s where you’ll be working”. Turning back, Deidra cocked her head and imitated Cordy’s quirked brow. “Is there a problem”? She asked lightly, a twinkle in those silver depths.
“Erm lemme think... yeah!” That horrified explosion was quickly followed by a pleading look. “I don’t know anything about kids. I was an only child for gods sake and can I just say… urghh noise?”. Not to mention sticky fingers and if her parents housekeeper was even half right... frazzled nerves. “No way am I working in childcare. For their sake as well as mine”. She topped that definite statement with a glare hot enough to sizzle.
“There is always extra security around the children. No questions would be asked,” replied Deidra with an arch look. All she needed to do was cross her arms and tap her fingers to complete the picture of someone saying ‘gotcha’.
“Fine I’ll learn” The mental groan while deafening was entirely heartfelt. But, if nothing else this new hell at least distracted her from brooding about a certain creature of the night.
BACK TO PRESENT - ANGEL
The sound of his boots rang on the stone of the courtyard with an uncompromising staccato beat. Each stride measured and direct, as if he knew exactly where he was going. The impression was completely false. He had only the vaguest idea where to start.
Full night had fallen and while the moon was out, it was watery with only half its usual power at mid cycle. For a human, hunting would have been hopeless in this light; to a vampire it was as natural as feeding.
Angel gained the stairs and ran swiftly up them towards the hills and open land beyond; not even hesitating or slowing slow down as reaching the top, he vamped out. Hard ridges scored his forehead as, morphing into full game face; molten gold eyes skimmed the landscape for signs of life; or more accurately unlife.
He wouldn’t have put it past Darla to have kept a lackey back from the confrontation to post a watch- just in case. He stretched every sense; listening, feeling and scenting the air for the distinctive smell of fellow demon. After a few absorbed seconds he relaxed. Either he was giving his sire too much credit, or she’d kept the best for last.
He got nothing, not even a tingle or twitch as his internal alarms remained silent. Satisfied with that much at least, Angel silently headed back towards the wooded area where they’d finally lost Cordelia’s trail. So far so good, not having to lose or kill a tail meant he could devote all of his attention where he wanted it to be: tracking down Cordelia.
Several fruitless hours later, he was patiently backtracking to the last place he knew she’d been to try yet another possible route, when the sounds of panicked scuffling caught his sensitive ears. Angel snapped his head around to the left, tracking the sound to its source.
Experience told him it was still some distance away and intrigued, he veered towards it, streaking silently across the long grass towards the darker shadows of looming undergrowth and overhanging trees. The wind was dry but cool and carried the faint traces of human fear. Catching it, Angel increased his pace and ducked under a low hanging branch, using the thickest part of the woods to keep his approach a secret.
The closer he got, the more partially audible speech became distinctive words; the tone taunting and playful. Instinctively he recognised the pattern of cat and mouse. A game he’d once been a master of. A hard smile curved his lips at his own conceited arrogance.
Interesting though, he thought mulling it over in his head as the thick bulk of moss ridden and dank smelling tree trunks thinned out ahead of him. He stopped just short of the tree line, making sure to remain undetected until the time was right. The prey was human- ergo possibly useful and if nothing else it was a new avenue to explore.
The darkness was absolute and the human, male, thin and dark haired with a red-streaked white face, was desperately squinting in an attempt to locate and avoid the next painful charge. Unknown to either, the watching vampire eyed the man carefully; noting how, despite being pumped full of fear and adrenaline, the human was rigid with defiance and determination as he blindly faced where he thought his tormentor was. Seeing it, Angel was reluctantly impressed.
Able to see every bit as well as the other vamp, Angel watched as it sauntered over to another angle of attack then tensed, getting ready for a fresh assault. Angel did likewise and moved a fraction of a second before it did, intercepting it before it reached the struggling and wounded man. He grabbed its collar and then jerked hard, swinging it round to face his own grinning face.
“Has no one ever told you it’s wrong to play with your food”? Angel asked it, his head cocked just so. He ignored the inner trembling, that infinitesimal nudge of his demon as it exalted in the coming confrontation, as meagre as it promised to be.
The vamp stared up at him, disconcerted at being interrupted by an unknown vamp that had at least four inches and maybe a hundred pounds on him. Gaping with its yellow eyes wide with unpleasant surprise, it blinked and closed its mouth to lick at suddenly dry lips. “Hey man, what the fuck...”?
It didn’t get to finish its less than eloquently framed question before Angel backhanded it. Spitting blood the vamp gargled a little when Angel grasped the collar tighter in a stranglehold now.
“Tut, tut- language”. He shook his head in mock sorrow. “What’s the world coming too when a baby like you speaks to your elders and betters like that. Not exactly respectful now is it”? The quirked brow over gleaming topaz eyes seemed to strike it dumb. Angel could literally see the slow wheels chug round inside its head.
Sensing movement from the right he ducked his head round to see the human was making good his escape. Not good, “Don’t move another inch or I’ll break your legs”. The man froze imperceptibly at the ominous snarl before obviously deciding the threat was worth risking.
Angel sighed, “Do as you’re told and you get to live. Make me chase you down and I’ll drain you myself”. He growled low and as menacing as he could make it.
Finally the dumbstruck vamp sucked in a breath, unlocked its open jaw and whined. “Hey- not fair, Dude. He’s mine fair and square”.
Angel scowled and welcomed the unreasonable rage. Then catching its eyes, he drove a concealed stake deep into its heart. The vamp turned to dust before it could push out the pained scream that contorted the disintegrating face. Then, brushing the dust of his coat, Angel curled his lips into a derisive sneer.
“That’s for calling me ‘dude’, asshole” he announced caustically, and still grimacing at the detested word he stalked over to the retreating figure of the stubborn and recklessly escaping human.
“You just don’t know when to give up do you”? He asked and for the second time in the last five minutes snagged a collar. This time the victim gagged and halted at the rough pull. Falling to his knees in the dirt and gasping for breath, the human lifted a shaking hand to his lips and rubbed away the dripping saliva.
“Why should I give into you? Certain death anyway” he replied hoarsely, and then dragging a hanker-chief from blood spotted and ill-fitting pants the man swiped it over his sweat soaked face. Finished, watering and unfocused blue eyes glared up at the looming vampire.
“Mind tell me why your up here, risking certain death then”? Angel asked as he crouched down, startling the human into rearing back so far he overbalanced and fell awkwardly on his side. “In fact while you’re at it- what the hell is an Englishman doing in good ole Sunnydale, California anyway”?
Wesley Wyndham Pryce stared into the hard, sculpted but thankfully now human face of his newest captor and it clicked. “You’re name wouldn’t happen to be Angel would it”? He asked hesitantly but with a queer formality that at any other time would have had the vampire smiling ironically.
Dark eyes narrowed on the newly flushed features of the hopeful man. “How do you know my name?” Great, this guy has Watchers Council written all over him. Pissed and suspicious Angel stood and waited while the man struggled to get to his feet.
“You mean you really are Angel,” exclaimed the man excitably, making Angel want to shake him. Talk about an abrupt about face. What the hell’d happened to the stalwart figure facing off a vampire- who now resembled an excited schoolboy?
Confused and not liking the feeling, Angel crossed his arms and glowered impatiently, not deigning to reply. The darkening expression went unnoticed. “Excellent, excellent” enthused an oblivious Wesley, energy renewed at the apparent success of his mission.
“My name is Wesley Wyndham Pryce, from England” he finished in affable explanation. Angel’s glower got darker at being told something so obvious it was insulting. Then grinding his teeth, he pushed back the urge to vamp out again to hurry this along. “Watchers Council”? Growled the irritated vampire, interrupting the flow with the rough query.
Taken by surprise, Wesley looked taken aback. “Well yes, but... How did you know”? The Englishman blearily checked out his appearance, as if he expected to see a nametag or something. Losing patience and rapidly coming to the conclusion intimidation was the only way. Angel grabbed him up by his shirtfront and roughly pulled him closer, stopping only when they were eye to eye.
The anger he let flood his face was obvious and entirely real, not helped by the fact that this human was actually taller than he was. Ignoring that, he pulled him down a bit more. “Get to the point already”. He snarled into the startled, pale face.
“Oh right, yes of course” Wesley blinked and paused to stare haughtily at the scowling vampire. “I talk much better when not being man-handled. So if you don’t mind, I suggest you release me”. The insinuation was clear and Angel quirked a brow at the return of reckless courage.
He released him, feeling a certain light heartedness momentarily lift his savage mood. “Anyone ever told you’re kinda eccentric” he asked with a wry look and spotting a pair of spectacles glinting in the grass, picked them up and handed them over.
Wesley took them with a frown then shrugging admitted he had. “More than once, but usually with a great deal less civility”. Then pulling the ratty hanker-chief back out of his pocket he absently began to polish the glasses he’d lost during the first vampire’s attack.
Once bespectacled again he became all business. “Now, just to be absolutely clear; you are the vampire called Angel, formerly known as Angelus, Scourge of Europe”? The way he’d said it you’d think he was rattling off a string of goddamn titles thought Angel with a shudder at the memories that phrase brought back.
“Yes” He kept it short and re-crossed his arms in an unconscious defence; or maybe to stop himself from reacting violently if this asshole decided to go into specifics. He was nothing if not conflicted about his own past, he thought sardonically and hearing it constantly regurgitated was a major pain in the ass. “So what? You writing a book or something”? Angel finished sarcastically.
“Hardly” refuted the Englishman with a pained expression. “I was coming to see you about a girl”. Of all the reactions Wesley had expected; the one he got was way off the charts.
FLASHBACK - THE FARM (Earlier that same day)
The farm had once been a mental institution, later abandoned in favour of larger and better facilities elsewhere in the county; leaving the building empty, awaiting a decision by the Towns Council on what to do with it. The arrival of the Master had decided its fate, along with practically everything else.
In better times, everything had once been a pristine white, as if by reflecting purity it would help cleanse the confused minds of the mildly unstable or in some cases, criminally insane. Now time had dulled the sheen and grime finished the job in turning it a tobacco stained tan. Bare bulbs, the wattage too low for the task, filtered light down from the ceilings in regular splotches of yellow.
“What the fuck is this about, Parker? Are you trying to get us both killed?” hissed the lurking shadow as the Doctor skirted round the corner, trying not to look furtive in case he was seen. Once out of sight he didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“It’s imperative I see her, Grogan. This time you must arrange it. Something’s happened that could upset all of our plans,” hissed the tired elderly figure of the Doctor. “I have news” he insisted with a forlorn look on his whiskered face. “I can hardly believe it” he exclaimed. “That we could get so close and then to lose it like that...” he shook his head and settled determined brown eyes on the other man.
“The girl is gone, I overheard some of them talking about it. She ran away- we must find her or..”. Grogan interrupted the frantic rush of speech, making desperate shushing motions with his hands. They both stood in strained silence as the heavy footsteps faded in another direction.
“Calm down before you get us both caught” He admonished harshly and then heaved a sigh. “I’ll talk to her and let you know, that’s the best I can offer”. Sweat popped out on his forehead, as anxiety heightened every second they lingered. Conversation was forbidden and if they were seen, an interrogation was sure to follow. It wasn’t like the vamps needed much excuse to pull out the pliers.
“Make it quick” demanded the still shaken Doctor, equally anxious to get moving. With a final look both men slipped off in different directions, carefully hugging the walls.
FLASHBACK - PHARMACY (Later on – same day)
The first thing to catch Doctor Parker’s eye on entering the pharmacy were the silver grey ones staring directly at him as he cautiously closed the door behind him.
Stricken with a sudden attack of nerves, the Doctor cleared his throat and looked away. No matter how hard he tried the strange tales of her mysterious origins came back to him the moment he set eyes on her, and of course the whispered and surely preposterous rumours of ‘paranormal’ abilities along with them. He cleared his throat for a second time and dragged his reluctant gaze back to her face.
“Thank you, for agreeing to meet with me” he started to say, only to be gently interrupted.
“You’re welcome Doctor. Now I hear you have some news for me”? The calm assured voice held a coaxing note of query, inviting him to speak freely.
Grogan, standing by his mixing table shot him a harried look. “Make it quick too, time is limited”. He shut up when she frowned at him in admonishment.
Doctor Parker, shuffled his feet and tried to get back on track, determined that as an educated and experienced man, he would not be overawed by superstitious rumblings. At times like these people always turn to magic for answers, he assured himself. He preferred to deal with reality- even a hellish one.
“The incident at the mysterious mansion I reported; the one about the vampires sheltering human girls, do you remember it”? Knowing he’d sounded like a pompous ass, he winced and waited for her to answer.
“Yes I do” she answered with a wry smile he didn’t pretend to understand. Her white hair was un-styled and hung straight to rounded shoulders, around a cheerfully rounded face. All in all she looked like anyone’s merry old grandma. Only not.
Regardless of that he ploughed on. “I believed that we could make use of the ... vampire’s erm affection for the girl. I’d hoped so anyway. However, with her now gone” he lifted his palms helplessly towards the ceiling; frustration written all over his worn face. Remnants of a cheerful disposition still remained on his face and the rebellious curl of his red hair.
“If we wish to retrieve the situation; it is my firm opinion that we must locate this girl and” He stopped unable to voice the unpalatable idea of handing over any human to a vampire- but times where harsh. “Give her back”, she finished it for him and he nodded and flushed with shame.
The woman sighed and stood up, stretching her small frame as if to work out the kinks of old age and sitting too long on an uncomfortable stool. “We already have the girl,” she admitted baldly, seeming to swallow him whole with that direct silver flecked stare again.
Doctor Parker blinked in disbelief, and swallowed hard at what must surely come. “So does that mean she’s already been returned to him”? He whispered, as a sinking feeling dragged in his belly, despite his intention to campaign for just that. He couldn’t help but send up a prayer that the girl wasn’t harmed.
“No and nor will she be until the time is right. I’m arranging a meeting with this highly unusual vampire. In my opinion we have a far better hold over him with her in our possession. Than if we simply handed her over and hoped his affection for her, if he has any left, would sway him to our way of thinking”.
“And if he’s not interested and refuses”? The flummoxed Doctor asked. Even from the little he’d seen, he didn’t think the large and intimidating vampire he recalled would take kindly to blackmail. A shiver chased itself up his chilled spine.
“Then he never gets her back” was the inflexible reply. “Not that I think it will come to that. You were right Dr Parker; Cordelia’s relationship with this vampire presents us with an opportunity that we couldn’t have even dreamed of”.
Continue on...