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Whose Shanshu?	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 3387 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Email: queenboadiceaoftheiceni@yahoo.com
Spoiler Warning: Seasons seven of BtVS and four of AtS
Disclaimer: This belongs to Joss Whedon and the usual gang of idi…uh, geniuses. I don’t own the other franchises either. If I was that rich, you think I’d be writing this stuff?
Pairing: Buffy/Angel
Feedback: Do your worst--it can’t compare to my worst ;)
Extended passages in Italics indicate dreams, mindscapes or diary entries
Thoughts are shown in italics.

Buffy stood for a moment, contemplating the enormous crater where once a bustling town had stood. She thought about all the years she had spent here: slaying, shopping, partying, attending classes, making friends, losing loved ones.
Spike. She’d told him she loved him in his last moments. She’d seen something like hope shining in his pale blue eyes before reality set in. Spike was never one to lie, either to himself or to others. Well, he could lie to others when it suited his purpose. Like the First he had an uncanny way of ferreting out the truth in people’s hearts and using it to manipulate them.
But otherwise he cut through the bullshit much as Anya had done. So right after her declaration the hope had died away. “No, you don’t,” he’d said softly. “But thanks for saying it anyways.”
No, she didn’t love Spike. Not the way he’d wanted, the way he’d striven for for the better part of two years. She loved him like she’d once loved Xander, Willow and Giles and the fact that she thought of her connection with them in the past tense was deeply hurtful. It hinted at something hard and unyielding in her nature that she’d spoken of when Spike had stayed in that house with her.
Well, that’s gonna change, starting right now. It was one thing to push her friends aside when the battle required it. Now that the fight was over, maybe they could use the time to rest, heal up and re-connect.
“Yo, B. I was asking. Where do we go now?” Faith’s voice finally penetrated Buffy’s introspection. The others were milling around or crashing in the back of the bus. The Potentials--no, they were Slayers now--were eager to get on the road if only to get away from this place. Why shouldn’t they be? Sunnydale hadn’t been home for most of them and now it was just a gigantic pit.
“Well, Giles said there’s a Hellmouth in Cleveland, so I’m thinking that’s our next stop.” She climbed back into the bus while Faith groused behind her.
“Damn. I was hoping for something a little livelier. I’ve been through Cleveland. It’s total Snoozeville.”
Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Faith, we just fought a mega battle and lost lives, people we cared about, and you haven’t had enough excitement? What are you, on steroids or something?”
“Come on, B! We saved the world! I say we take a little time to wind down and then we party and Cleveland is not a party town,” the dark-haired woman replied with a cheeky grin. The blonde Slayer snorted and plopped down in one of the few empty seats left.
“So where are we going? Does anybody have a plan?” That came from Vi, one of the surviving Slayers.
“You mean a plan for after the town went all kaflooey on us? See, we didn’t exactly know that was gonna happen so we were going shopping at one of Sunnydale’s better malls but I guess that’s no longer part of the tour,” Xander pointed out.
“Some of us need to get to the hospital first.” Faith waved at Robin Wood and other girls sporting various injuries. “But after that I know a guy in L.A. who owns a hotel. Bet he’d let us shack up there for a while.”
Xander eyed Faith suspiciously. “Is that ‘shack up’ as in sleep or in the more Biblical sense that you’re used to because I’m not going there, Faith.”
“Do you have a constant porno flick running in your head, X-man? This guy’s a friend and this place is the kick. He’ll let us stay there without paying or nothing.”
“We talking ex-boyfriend here, Faith? So not into dealing with that kind of drama now,” Dawn murmured while stifling a big yawn.
“Who is he, Donald Trump?” one of the other girls asked.
“No such luck, to both those statements. But he was totally on my wish list, right, B?”
“What do you mean, Faith?” The exhaustion afflicting the others was catching up to Buffy and she wished Faith would just get to the point.
“He’s a mutual friend--and part of the reason I hated your guts back in the day. He was one of the great things you had that I didn’t.”
Buffy stared at her blankly. “Faith, I’m really not up for guessing games right now. How about just spilling the beans and telling us who he is already?”
Faith frowned at the continued look of incomprehension on the other’s fact. “You really don’t get it, do you? Man, B, I knew you and Angel hadn’t been together for a long while but I didn’t think you’d put him out of your mind completely. You tellin’ me you forgot him? What happened to that whole Romeo-and-Juliet thing you had going on?”
“Angel? You’re talking about Deadboy? He’s got a hotel and we’ve been holed up in a house with only one toilet? We got gypped!” Xander said, thumping his fist on the seat in mock indignation.
“Wait a minute. You never mentioned anything about Angel owning a hotel, Faith,” Buffy accused.
The other woman shrugged it off. “Yeah, well, you and me got caught up in other things, B. Like you punching me out to protect your newest undead boytoy, Spike.”
Willow was quick to speak in Buffy’s defense. “Spike and Buffy weren’t together, Faith.”
“Is that why she spent last night sleeping with him?” Vi replied with raised eyebrows. “I saw her go down to the basement and she didn’t come back up for ages,” she said to the others.
“Buffy was sleeping with Spike?” Kennedy asked, her gaze shifting between her redheaded lover and the blonde Slayer.
“No, I wasn’t. I haven’t been sleeping with him. Well, not in the sex kind of way. Faith was in my room and there was no place else to sleep and this is none of your business anyway. I thought we were trying to decide where to head out next. You said Angel had a hotel.” Buffy was eager to change the subject. She didn’t know how much of her affair with Spike Andrew and the other Slayers knew but she certainly wasn’t going to argue about it in front of so many listening ears.
“I swear Deadboy gets all the breaks. A mansion in Sunnydale and a hotel in Los Angeles. Next we’re probably gonna hear that he’s got a castle in Italy somewhere,” Xander grumbled.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. Why didn’t you guys stay at the mansion? There was plenty more room there,” Faith mused.
“Mansion? What mansion? What are you people talking about?” This came from another Slayer--Buffy couldn’t place her name at the moment.
Buffy squirmed under the accusing and baffled stares from the others. “Uh, you know the mansion wasn’t mine. It wasn’t as if I could break into it any time I liked. It’s been boarded up for years! And the plumbing probably wasn’t working either.”
“You could have contacted the big A and let him know. I’m sure he’d have no beef about you using his old place, B.” Faith was beginning to feel that something was off about this whole business. Okay, B and the Souled One hadn’t been together in a while. But why would she fail to take advantage of such an obvious hideout? Come to think of it, why hadn’t Faith herself mentioned it the whole time she was in SunnyD? The brunette rubbed her head as she tried to think through the question.
“Faith raises a valid point, Buffy,” Giles replied as he carefully started up the bus. “Why were we at your house with its constantly breaking furniture, mounting bills and limited space when we could have used Angel’s vacated mansion? It would have been far more practical in terms of living quarters for the girls.”
“I-I--come on, Giles! That place held way too many bad memories. You wouldn’t have wanted to stay there, not after what…happened to you there.” She didn’t specify about Angelus’s torture of Giles; she thought that was something he wouldn’t want to get into in front of the others. However, his objections came from an entirely different angle.
“Are you seriously trying to make me believe that you kept us out of that place out of deference to my feelings? Because recent behavior from you has suggested otherwise.” Giles’s incredulous tone didn’t quite cover the frostiness in his voice and the others shifted uncomfortably. Xander, Willow and even Faith understood to what he was referring. The other Slayers merely looked puzzled or indifferent, depending on their mood.
Buffy snapped, “Don’t even go there, Giles. You haven’t exactly been Up Front Guy so don’t start pointing the finger.”
Before Giles could retort, Faith sighed and slumped in her seat. “Whatever, B. Look, I don’t know what your deal is with Angel. But if you’re so over him that you miss obvious clues about him, then you won’t have any problems going to his place. So let’s just stow the pride and hurt feelings and get to L.A., all right? Because right now I could use a hot bath and a warm bed--not necessarily in that order.”
There was a chorus of agreeing murmurs from the other passengers and Buffy shrugged. “Fine. It looks like we’re going to L.A.”
Faith walked over to Giles and said, “I’ve got the address, Giles. Just follow these directions and we’ll be five by five.”
__________
Angel sat quietly in his office as he waited for the others to join him. Gunn, Fred and Lorne had been busily packing up what few belongings they had left after Jasmine’s followers had destroyed their possessions. He’d been able to salvage a locked box that had proven too well hidden for the violent hands of the Jasmine Brigade but most of his things had been ruined beyond retrieval. Evidently the Transcendent One’s so-called benevolence hadn’t extended to those who exerted enough free will to leave the fold.
It didn’t matter. Angel had learned to get by on far less than what he was carrying with him now. After all, he’d existed for almost eighty years in ditches, alleys, sewers and in the shadows on the periphery of human existence. He would survive; they all would.
And they were getting the niftiest consolation prize--the unlimited resources of Wolfram & Hart. Part of him balked at taking anything from his erstwhile enemy. This was bound to lead them down dark paths. Of course, they’d all had to wrestle with their personal demons in the past few years and he thought, all in all, that they had emerged the stronger for it. Heck, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t tangled with Wolfram & Hart in the past. He’d stood up to the worst they could throw at him and come out victorious. This time he was in charge because, according to Lilah Morgan, the good guys had won.
Yet he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that he was being subtly manipulated. He’d already been enticed to join by information about Sunnydale dangled in front of his nose by that bitch Lilah. Yes, she was definitely a fly in the ointment. Being around her made his skin crawl. She wasn’t a vampire, demon or zombie and the inability to categorize her, not to mention the whole otherworldly vibe she kept giving off, caused his senses to scream whenever he was near her. But she was part of the package and, like it or not, he was going to have to learn to deal with her.
But maybe you don’t have to. She is dead, after all. It wouldn’t exactly be a crime to kill her, would it? Now there was an appealing notion. But killing her simply because her presence was distasteful was rather childish. He wasn’t even sure if he could. She was already dead after all and he didn’t know what it would take to dispose of her completely.
Dismissing the troublesome Miss Morgan, he hefted the solid box and ran his fingers across the ornate carvings on its lid. This box contained his most precious memories: his diaries he had assiduously kept even through years of privation and loneliness, pictures of Buffy he had drawn in his idle hours, his Claddagh ring and hers miraculously found after he came back from hell and other assorted items.
Giving in to impulse, he fished out the old-fashioned key and carefully opened the box. Lying on top were sketches of Cordelia. He grimaced when he saw them, remembering the state of his feelings when he drew them.
Now that he had breathing space to consider, the feelings of love that he thought he’d possessed for Cordelia didn’t seem all that real in the cold light of day. Yes, he was sorry for her condition. But, before she’d come back, had he really been in love or had all that babbling about kyerumption from Fred turned his head? When he searched his feelings for Cordelia, all he could discern was ordinary friendship. It was powerful, true, and he would fight to the death for her. But she’d been all too willing to throw him aside for others, something that irritated more than wounded him.
This wasn’t amorous, passionate love that he felt for his seer. It paled in comparison to what he felt for Buffy. As if the thought had summoned her image, the next picture was of his golden Slayer and his hand trembled as he touched it. She was depicted draped naked on his bed, the likeness drawn when she’d fallen asleep after their exhausting lovemaking on the forgotten day.
His fingers caressed the lines as if they were the curves of her body. He could remember every sigh, word, glance and touch she’d given him as if it were yesterday and his heart twisted hard inside his chest.
It had been a jolt seeing her again in Sunnydale. By now he was so used to suppressing all the sharp emotions seeing her engendered that he’d done so almost as a reflex. He thought that might mean he was finally getting over her. But learning that she’d been with Spike had been a bitter pill to swallow.
That shitty grandchilde of mine. Always taking my sloppy seconds. I should have dusted him the first time he got us run out of town. Well, maybe he wasn’t as over her as he thought. Still, if she didn’t survive the First’s attack then he wouldn’t have to worry about seeing the two of them together.
He shook his head, appalled at his own callousness. Since when had he become so cavalier about Buffy’s welfare? He should have stayed there in Sunnydale with her or at least put up a stronger protest about leaving. Why had he allowed himself to be run off so easily?
Had his mind been messed with? He’d seen how often the Sunnydale residents had been blind to the strange and supernatural in their midst. At the time he had dismissed it as the typical human response to things they didn’t understand. But knowing people in L.A. who were quick to believe in the mystical he couldn’t help but wonder if something else had been at work clouding the thoughts of the small-town denizens.
Well, idle speculation wasn’t going to help. They had to prepare for fighting on their front if Buffy failed. Speaking of which, shouldn’t there have been a sign of the outcome before now?
Just then his ears picked up the sounds of people talking on the sidewalk and he snapped the box shut, locking it again. The next moment a crowd of teenage girls came staggering into the lobby and paused to look around the space in amazement. None of them noticed the closed office door to their right.
“Goddamn, will you look at this? This place must be huge. I wonder how many rooms it’s got,” one of the teenagers murmured.
A boy with oddly dyed hair shuffled in and goggled with them. “This is fantastic. I wouldn’t have minded being tied up in a place like this.” He sat on the dove gray circular loveseat and ran his fingers dreamily over the soft fabric.
“My stomach hurts,” Vi complained. “I felt it all the time we were fighting those demons. Then it stopped on the bus. Now it’s started again.”
“Yeah, mine too. It feels like I’m cramping but it ain’t that time of month,” Dominique replied, rubbing at her belly and grimacing.
Angel tensed ever so slightly. These girls were giving him an electric tingle, the same kind he got when he was near Buffy or Faith and he could recall sensing the same when he’d fought Kendra. Who were these females?
A young woman he knew all too well entered next and plopped onto one of the red couches. “Oh, wow. A soft seat feels so good after that bus ride. I’d forgotten how much it hurt to ride those things. I swear that one we picked didn’t have a single shock absorber left.” Dawn glanced around the space, taking it in for the first time. “Hey. Cool.”
“Once you’ve seen it as often as I have, the thrill is gone.”
He recognized that voice and opened his office door. “Faith.”
“Hey, big guy. I was wondering where you’d been hiding.” To his surprise Faith came up to him and gave him a warm hug. Since she wasn’t the hugging type, he was taken aback until she whispered in his ear, “Hold that pose, Angel.”
The other girls gaped to see Faith being so intimate with a stranger. Who was this tall, good-looking, well-built man? Was this the mysterious Angel she’d mentioned on the bus?
Buffy came in moments later and saw them embracing. She stiffened in consternation and the next instant Faith parted from Angel and turned around. “Hey, B. Was I right about this place or what? Doesn’t it just kick ass?”
“Kick ass? Not a bad idea,” Buffy muttered.
Angel ignored her to question Faith. “So how’d the apocalypse go on your end?”
“We totaled a town. You?”
“Ended world peace.”
She grinned at the return sally. “Wicked cool.”
Buffy was irked beyond reason at their easy camaraderie. In order to distract herself, she pretended to check out the green floors and spacious red staircases. So she was the first to notice a tall, black man and a chattering brunette girl who was way too skinny even by California standards descending the stairs. They were holding boxes and carrying on an argument that was evidently the source of some grievance.
“I’m telling you, I don’t care how much money they throwin’ at us. I’m not living in some muckety-muck condo in Bel Aire! I’m from downtown, Fred. I gotta keep it real. What are my homeboys gonna think about me moving into some swanky neighborhood I couldn’t afford in a million years?”
“When was the last time you saw your homeboys, bro?” Fred retorted. She stopped short when she saw all the people in the lobby. “Oh my god! Faith, is that you? You survived!”
“That I did, girlfriend.” Without another word, the skinny brunette squealed and ran down the stairs, throwing her free arm around Faith. The dark-haired Slayer patted her awkwardly on the back. “Hey, don’t go gushing all over me. It’s embarrassing.”
“Oh, this is so great! I mean, it’s so good to see you and to know that you didn’t die. Can I take it the apocalypse was averted and we shouldn’t expect a whole load of demons coming our way? I really wasn’t looking forward to another fight with some Supreme Being not with what we’ve had to deal with here. Not that we didn’t want to fight, it’s just that things have finally started coming together for us and…”
She stopped short when she realized that everyone was staring. She waved feebly at the gathered assemblage and said, “Hi, everybody. I’m Winifred Burkle but everybody calls me Fred.”
The black man flashed a quick grin that had many of the girls making unconscious gestures to straighten their hair and clothing. “Yeah, and I’m Charles Gunn and, in case he hasn’t introduced himself, the tall dark silent guy over there is Angel.”
“Hi, Angel.” A chorus of welcome came from the girls. Buffy didn’t miss the appreciative looks the other Slayers were giving Angel and a fresh wave of jealousy swept over her. Last night she’d seen him all too briefly to do more than trade a few short words with him. Now that she could look at leisure, she saw the striking handsome man she’d fallen in love with.
Why did you give him up again? Oh right, the cookie dough speech. What the f…? COOKIE DOUGH?!? That’s the excuse you brushed him off with? Girl, you are a moron. The treacherous thought zipped across her mind before she could shut it off.
“Hi, Angel. I hope we didn’t come at a bad time,” Willow said softly. Fred squealed again and hugged Willow who hugged her back just as enthusiastically. They parted to see another brunette staring at Fred jealously. “Oh, Fred. This is Kennedy. She’s the one I told you about.”
“Hi, pleased to meet you.” Fred stuck out her hand which was taken rather unenthusiastically by the other woman. Then she stepped back and looked around at the other girls. “So what is going on? You guys won out against the big evil Angel mentioned?”
“The First,” Buffy replied. “After the town went Titanic, Faith thought this might be a good place to stay. Just for a while,” she amended hastily. “Giles says there’s a Hellmouth in Cleveland and there are Slayers being activated all over the world. We have to get in touch with all of them somehow.”
“Faith. Am I to take it by your arrival that all went well in Sunnydale?”
The measured English voice brought everyone’s attention back to the stairs and Buffy blinked in confusion and then astonishment. Underneath all the scruffiness lurked the face of one ex-Watcher, Mr. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. “Wesley? Is that you?”
“In the flesh, as it were.” One hand rose unconsciously to trace the scar running like a snake from one side of his throat to the other.
“Didn’t I tell you he was hot now, B?” Faith joked as she nudged her arm.
“Why didn’t anybody wake me? We arrive here and everybody piles out and leaves me on the bus.” Xander complained. He took in the room as well as the strangers standing inside it. “Nice digs. Is that genuine oak paneling?”
“Who are--?” Wesley’s eyes widened as he noted the eyepatch over Xander’s left socket. “Good Lord. Xander Harris? What happened to your eye?”
“Arrgh, matey. That be a long and grim story, a tale of eyeless brigands and rogue priests.” Xander dropped the pirate brogue. “Speaking of unfamiliar faces, is that you, Wesley? Gotta say the stubbly look is not attractive.”
“Speak for yourself, Xander,” one of the other Slayers muttered.
“Okay, before everybody’s hormones go raging out of control, we should all get settled in. That is, if it’s five by five with you, Angel.” Faith turned towards the vampire, her eyebrows raised, as she waited for his approval.
“You want to stay here? I suppose it’s all right seeing as we’re moving out.”
“You are?” Faith cast her eye around and for the first time noticed all the boxes, few though they were, scattered in the lobby. “So you are. Where you going if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Wolfram & Hart,” Fred answered when Angel remained silent. “It’s this evil law firm. But they totally caved in after the last apocalypse and gave us their branch here in Los Angeles. You should see this place! It’s huge, even bigger…”
“Been there. Done that,” Faith replied in a flat tone. Then she rounded on the vampire. “Are you nuts, Angel? These are the same people who put a hit on you!”
Buffy didn’t miss the chance to jump in. “How could we possibly forget, Faith? You’re the one they hired to do it.”
“Who’s Wolfram & Hart? Did we just walk into the middle of something?” Andrew griped. “I gotta tell you, I’m not up for another round of fighting. I just want to relax in a nice warm bath and maybe watch some TV. Hey, does this place have cable?” he asked the bald black man.
“Forget that, Junior. We only got TVs recently. The big guy believes most TV shows are nothing but junk.”
“Oh my god! What kind of den of evil have I walked into?” Andrew said in mock horror. At least it sounded as if he was kidding.
Giles was the last to enter, grumbling under his breath. “You wouldn’t believe the conversation I just had with a police officer on the legality of parking the school bus. I had to tell him that we were refugees from the vanished town just to avoid a ticket!” His breath caught as he had his first sight of the spacious lobby. “Is this Angel’s place? Faith told me it was capacious but I had no idea of its true grandeur. What is it, Art Deco?” He gazed about the immediate vicinity in rapt delight and met the eye of the brooding vampire.
“Giles. It’s good to see you.”
“Angel. Likewise.” The greeting between the two men was cool. Things between them would never be what it once was after Jenny’s death but at least they’d managed to reach an understanding if not great friendship.
Giles turned to the others. “Have all the introductions been made?”
Faith was still visibly upset at the bombshell Fred had dropped. “You can say that, Giles. Although I think we’ve landed in the proverbial hornet’s nest.”
“Am I missing something?” Quickly Faith filled him in, introducing him to the unknowns in their midst and telling him of Angel’s intended move.
Giles was cautious in his response as he contemplated the bizarre notion of Angel working in a law firm. “Wolfram & Hart? Mention of them is made in the Watchers Diaries. As they pose a more human threat, the Council decided to err on the side of caution and not interfere unduly with their machinations.”
Angel couldn’t let Faith have the only word on the subject. “It’s not as bad as she’s making it sound, Giles. We haven’t sold out. They lost; we won. Since a great Beast killed all of their previous personnel, they turned the reins over to us. We’re in charge there now.”
“Mr. Giles, Wolfram & Hart possesses quite a few resources that might interest you. We have a Watcher who managed to elude the destruction of the Watchers Council. They also have a library,” Wesley informed him.
At the word “library” an excited gleam, such as Buffy hadn’t seen in Giles’s eyes in months, appeared. “A library, do you say?”
Wesley nodded. “There are also vaults containing masses of information on innumerable demons, parallel dimensions as well as prophecies, artifacts and magical items of some significance and power. There’s more information stored there than you could peruse in one lifetime. Perhaps you’d care to look over the facilities at your convenience.”
“I’d very much appreciate that, Wesley.” The two Englishmen exchanged smiles and Buffy felt inexplicably left out. On the drive down, Giles had been understandably tired and saved most of his energy for driving. But she had noticed him comforting Xander and Wood in his quiet British way when he’d let Faith take the wheel. Didn’t anybody remember that she’d also lost somebody? And why wouldn’t Angel look at her?
“Man, it begins. Get two eggheads together and they’ll keep you up all night talking,” Faith muttered as she stomped upstairs. She nearly bumped into a figure clad in a shiny, purple suit with a red shirt.
“Those fiends! They destroyed all my Streisand CDs! Honestly, can you believe those barbarians? Well, hello, Faith. It’s good to see you again. How were things in the boonies?” The demon with red eyes and green skin embraced the dark-haired Slayer until she struggled to escape.
“Why does everybody want to hug me? Did I sprout Raggedy Ann red yarn hair or something? And what’s this about people destroying your stuff?”
“Long story, Slaygal, and I’m not sure now’s the time to tell it.” The demon peered down the staircase at the startled gathering. “Hello, what have we here? Is anybody going to introduce me to all these lovely ladies and gentlemen?”
“Shit, it’s a demon. Should we be worried?” Kennedy murmured, her eyes scanning the room for a weapon.
Angel darted in front of the girls, his arms spread in a protective gesture. “Relax, guys. This is Lorne. He’s a friend from Pylea.”
“Yeah, I was held as a slave there for five years. But they recently abolished slavery so it’s not so bad as it once was,” Fred informed them in a cheery tone.
Buffy shook her head tiredly. She was hungry and weary to death and she didn’t want any more explanations or introductions. She clapped her hands sharply to draw everybody’s attention. “Okay, people. We’ve done the hello thing and we’re shortly going to say goodbye, judging by the looks of it. Thanks for letting us park here, Angel. But you have to know we’re not staying.”
The vampire didn’t reply. He merely nodded sharply. He went back into the office and returned bearing a wooden box. “Come on, everybody. Time to clear out.”
Lorne, Wesley, Gunn and Fred looked uncertain. Now that the moment of parting had actually arrived, they were all curiously reluctant to go. Right then, Faith realized someone was missing. “Hey, Angel. Where’s Cordelia? She still shaking off Angelus’s last attack?”
Angelus? What did he have to do with this? Buffy didn’t miss the flash of sorrow in Angel’s eyes, quickly vanishing, at the mention of Cordelia’s name. “Things took a turn for the worse while you were gone, Faith. Cordy’s in a coma,” he replied, no hint of emotion in his voice.
Willow was genuinely shocked. “Coma? How’d that happen? The last time I saw her, it was just a flesh wound and she was on the mend although kinda thirsty. How did she wind up in a coma?”
“Like Buffy said, you guys have to settle in and it’s a really long story, Willow. We’re going to set up things at Wolfram & Hart. You can check in with us when you’re less tired.” Angel reached into his pocket and handed Faith a bundle of keys. “Here are the keys to the place. You’ll be able to figure out what goes where. If you want to use the pool, get the water cleaned first.”
“There’s a pool?” Dawn interrupted, taking a real interest in the conversation for the first time.
Angel nodded and continued his speech to Faith. “Treat her with respect, Faith. She’s a grand old dame but she wears her age well.” He picked up a large blanket lying unnoticed next to the lobby door. He draped it over himself and plunged into the sunlight.
The recently created Slayers had been filled in on Angel’s vampiric status on the trip down but it was still surprising to see him braving the sun. “Hey, how’s he gonna get to this Wolfram & Hart place in the middle of the afternoon? Won’t he burn up on the way?” Andrew asked.
“I’m thinking that limo with the tinted windows will make a fabulous sunblock,” Faith replied. At that, everybody crowded to the lobby doors and goggled as the A.I. team crowded into an obviously very expensive limousine parked at the curb. The meager belongings the Fang Gang possessed were shoved into the trunk and three minutes later it pulled away sedately into the L.A. traffic.
Faith was the first to lose interest. “Right, people. Show’s over. I don’t know what you’re doing but I’m taking a shower and crashing. You guys come up and I’ll show you your rooms.”
“How about you, honey? You want to share a shower?” Kennedy asked with a wink as she and Willow pulled away from the front doors.
Willow blushed and murmured, “Nah. You shower while I sleep. That Slayer-power-to-the-world spell totally drained me. Gonna recharge my energies and shower later.”
Colleen stopped clutching herself about the waist and beamed. “Hey, my stomach feels a whole lot better for some reason.”
“I know. Weird, huh?” another Slayer commented. “One moment, wicked cramps. The next, zilch.”
“Must have been PMS or something,” Kennedy ventured.
“No such luck, ladies. That was your Slayerness kicking in,” Faith smirked. “That’s an early warning system that tells you vamps and other assorted nasties are in the area.”
“Are you telling me that now we’re Slayers we’re gonna get those pains every time a bloodsucker is around?” Colleen demanded. “Like being a woman isn’t hard enough! Who thought up this screwy system in the first place?”
Faith shrugged. “The people who thought girls make better Slayers than guys, I suppose.” The other females wandered off, loudly debating thuestuestionable method of vampire detection and the idiots who’d curse a woman to feel this kind of pain more than once a month.
It wasn’t until everyone else left the lobby that Buffy realized Angel hadn’t spoken to her once.
__________
It took a while for everybody to get settled. Some of the girls wanted to go to sleep; others went to the mini fridge and raided it for the little food that was left. The Sunnydale refugees had had the choice of taking rooms that had been lived in and were littered with detritus or opening rooms so long unused the dust was thick on the furniture. No one wanted the recently vacated rooms of Angel and crew; for some reason the furnishings and belongings had been totally trashed.
But Buffy couldn’t sleep. It was the middle of the afternoon, for goodness sakes! True, she was mostly a night person but that didn’t mean she should be sleeping the day away. That didn’t prevent her from lying in bed, wide-awake, staring at the ceiling.
With a grunt, she sat up and eased into her shoes again. She was too wired to sleep. A little activity might do her good. Maybe she could start by exploring the hotel. She walked down the hall and opened one of the unlocked doors.
Buffy stared at the damage around her in the vacated room. It looked as if a mob had come through it. She carefully picked her way through the debris. In the opened closet, she found the remains of several slashed shirts, slacks and shoes and she could tell by the uniform darkness of the material that it had been Angel’s room.
Backing up, her foot knocked something that rolled with a clatter across the floor. Buffy bent, picked up the object and frowned, turning it over and over in her hands.
It was a baby rattle. It was a small thing in delicate powder blue that had miraculously escaped the damage to the rest of the room. Who had had a baby and why was this in Angel’s room?
She shook off the question and tossed the rattle into the closet, slamming it shut. Whatever was going on here was Angel’s drama; she wasn’t going to get sucked into it. Buffy exited the room and shut the door without looking back. Their relationship lay in ruins, like his room, like all of Sunnydale. Angel was part of her past. From now on, she was looking forward.
“Hey, B. Find anything interesting?”
Buffy resisted the impulse to jump and picked Faith out of the shadows at the end of the hallway. She wasn’t ready to share her private pain over Angel. Not that there was any pain. Buffy was a totally pain-free zone where Angel was concerned. She managed a smile and shrugged indifferently. “Scrap. Whoever went through this place pretty much trashed it. Think it was because of that apocalypse you talked about?”
“Nope. That never really made it here. I understand the place got a little shook up when Red was restoring Angel’s soul but it couldn’t have caused the slash-and-tear damage I saw. Musta been something else. Maybe he’ll tell me when he calls.”
The blonde Slayer didn’t respond. She decided to head back to her room. Faith jogged beside her and pulled her by the arm. “Wait a sec. I was kinda fussing over Robin in the bus before we took him to the hospital so I didn’t get the chance to tell you what went down here. We can see if those girls left anything in the fridge while we catch up.”
Unwillingly Buffy allowed herself to be dragged off by Faith. She didn’t know why she wanted to listen. Faith would only tell her about Angel and she wanted to avoid that. Yet she found himself seated at the lobby desk while the brunette Slayer rummaged through the mini fridge.
“Not much here. Some old vegetables…at least I think they were vegetables. Once. Kinda ripe and funky now. You think those girls could have thrown them out.” She wrinkled her nose and dumped the sodden, stinky mess in the garbage.
“There’s some yogurt and ooh, hey!” She pulled out a pint of ice cream jammed into the back of the freezer and scraped off the accumulated ice on it. “Somebody left cookie dough fudge mint chip ice cream in here. Lucky us.”
Cookie dough…? Buffy stared at the container Faith was triumphantly waving. Did Angel leave that for her? It wasn’t possible. Her speech to him about cookie dough had been only last night. He wouldn’t have had time to run out and get a tub of this stuff…and why would he? Was it a message of some sort?
No, this container was heavily frosted over; Faith had had to brush off the ice crystals on the top before she could read it. That meant it had been sitting here for some time. So no secret message then. Buffy pushed down the irrational feeling of disappointment.
Faith dumped some in a bowl for Buffy but contented herself with eating her share right out of the carton. They ate a few mouthfuls in silence before either of them spoke. “You wanna go first, B, or should I?”
“Well, you seem to know what’s what about this place so why don’t you start.”
“First idea I got that something’s wrong--besides the sun going out like a bad lightbulb--was when I got attacked in prison by this chick with this really weird knife. And it wasn’t one of those stupid homemade jobs like you make in the prison workshop either. It looked really professional and she said it was nothing personal, like she’d been hired to do it. Guess one of those blind Bringers must have snuck it to her.”
Buffy didn’t answer. A pang of guilt stung her. She should have contacted Faith and let her know the danger threatening the Slayer line. But she’d honestly forgotten about the brunette Slayer. There had been too much else going on in Sunnydale.
“Then Wesley comes and tells me Angelus is on the loose and I’m the only one who can get him back. I bust myself out of jail and then we hunt down Angelus.”
“How did you find him?”
Faith’s mouth opened and then closed as she considered. Now that she thought about it, she wasn’t sure how she’d managed to track Angel’s evil alter ego. She was a Slayer but picking one particular vampire out of a crowd had never been her thing. There was missing element to this story, something important…
After a moment she dismissed it. Maybe she’d gotten a hunch or just followed a lead. “Got lucky, I guess. Anyhow, turns out Angelus is in cahoots with this huge Goliath rock Beast. This bad boy was the one responsible for pulling the sunblock over Los Angeles. You should have seen it, B. It was total chaos here--vampires and demons running around during high noon. Speaking of which, how come you weren’t here helping out? I know things were rough in SunnyD but they sure could have used your help here cleaning up the streets.”
“Faith, I thought that if the others needed my help, they would contact me.” The excuse sounded feeble to Buffy’s ears and Faith was quick to call her on it.
“Bullshit. You didn’t come because you didn’t want to see Angel again any more than you had to. Too bad you didn’t keep in touch. Then you might have heard Angelus was back in the picture.”
“Well, Angel could have kept in touch with me. I’m sure him or one of his people could have called.”
“Did you call him for help when he brought you that magic necklace?”
“He didn’t come until somebody else told him there was trouble in little Sunnydale. Otherwise, I don’t think he would haotheothered,” Buffy shot back. She struggled to get her temper under control. She and Faith were getting into an argument and that was the last thing she wanted. “Anyway, that’s water under the bridge. What happened with you and Rockzilla?”
Faith looked down into the container as if too embarrassed to continue. “About Rocky…I’m tellin’ you, Buff…”
“What? What about him?”
“He was--he was too much for me. He was over ten feet tall and built like a prison guard tower. It was like punching a cement wall every time I attacked him and he swatted me around that place like I was nothing.”
She swallowed as she remembered the creature’s dismissive words to her. That had been worse than the beating--being made to feel small, helpless and worthless like nothing she did would ever matter or be good enough. It had been why the Mayor’s praise and unconditional support, even with his twisted agenda, had been so sweet. He had provided the approval she had sought so desperately and never found elsewhere.
Buffy heard the insecurity. Faith put up a good act as a tough girl; it wasn’t every day she let anyone see her vulnerable side and she fumbled with words to reassure her. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I went toe to toe with a god who kept mopping the floor with me. The only way I won that chick fight was by using a really big hammer.”
“A hammer, huh? Maybe I should have brought one of those with me when I went up against the Thing,” Faith joked.
Buffy prompted her when it seemed she wasn’t going to continue. “What happened after that? It didn’t kill you and it sounds like it could have.”
“Angelus happened, if you can believe it. Seems he wasn’t much of a team player and he came up from behind and stabbed it with this ugly dagger that was made out of Rocky’s bones.”
“Ugh. High on the ick factor.”
“You’re telling me. And when Rocky blew up, the sun came back like that.” The brunette snapped her fingers for emphasis.
“So Angelus brought back the sun?”
“Yep.” The other woman kicked up her heels and put them on the table and dug out another scoop of ice cream. “He was really surprised; guess he didn’t realize kayoing the rockpile would do that. A lot of vampires must have been caught outside when ole Sol made its reappearance.”
“Yeah. Major dustage all over Los Angeles, I’ll bet.”
The other woman chewed, swallowed her ice cream and resumed her story. “I was banged up pretty bad--too bad to go after Angelus. But I heal fast thanks to Slayer power and then Wesley and me took off to track down tall, dark and vicious again. Wes comes up with this master plan to trick Angelus into biting me while I’ve got this magic juice pumping through my veins.”
“Magic juice?”
“A wacky drug the underground calls Orpheus, other of some Greek myth or other. Wesley didn’t have time to get into the details. He just said that if a vampire bit a human who was on this stuff, said vamp would go into a coma. ‘Course, the human goes under, too, which made the whole thing kinda dicey. But the Brit thought I could handle it. Still, it was kinda touch and go there for awhile, B.”
“Angel--Angelus bit you?” Buffy scanned Faith’s neck. She didn’t see any telltale trace of a scar on the other woman and felt an absurd sense of relief. She still bore Angel’s mark from when Faith had poisoned him and she had touched it often in the early days after his departure from her. Buffy saw it as a mark of belonging, strange as it sounded, and the thought that Faith might have been similarly branded caused a renewal of the jealousy she’d experienced in the lobby when she caught the two of them hugging.
Faith sensed Buffy’s antagonism but couldn’t figure out what was causing it. Shrugging it off, she continued. “B, I was actually reliving parts of Angel’s life. Seeing him come to America, watching him try to help people.” She remembered the little puppy and smirked. Okay, it hadn’t always been people…
“Really? I thought Angel was all people-avoidy after he got his soul.”
“Well, he couldn’t have lived in total iso, could he? He was a vampire with a soul not a prisoner in solitary. It wasn’t that he didn’t like people, B. He…he just didn’t trust himself around them. I could see the temptation he felt every time anyone with a heartbeat got too close: the heat from their bodies, the bloodlust, the whole I-wanna-tear-your-throat-out-and-use-your-jugular-like-a-straw vibe. It was hell for him, B. You have no idea.” Faith scowled at a private memory and dug viciously into the tub of ice cream as if she wanted to hurt someone on Angel’s behalf.
Buffy swirled her spoon around in the now melted remains of her ice cream. She wanted to shout out questions. Had Angel gone through memories of her? Their time together? Their one act of lovemaking on her 17th birthday? Their private conversations? “So…how far did you get in his memories?”
Faith knew what lay behind the question and took pity on the young woman with her. “I didn’t get to the whole drama that was your romance, if that’s what you’re thinking. I only got up to Angel while he was still in his skulking-in-the-alleys part of his existence.”
She took another spoonful of ice cream. “It was really gross. He was dressed in these filthy clothes and sported bad Eighties hair and eating…well, you really don’t want to know that part.” She shuddered in exaggerated revulsion and slurped up another spoonful of ice cream, chewing a frozen bit of cookie dough. “Angelus was really pissed watching the souled one going through the wringer like that.”
“Wait, you and Angelus were going through this? I thought it was just you reliving Angel’s memories.”
“See, that’s the thing. The demon was inside him this whole time, watching what Angel was doing, pretty much helpless to do anything except run commentary. Just because he got a soul doesn’t mean his demon disappeared, B. But I guess you know that, don’t ya?” Faith finished the frozen treat, scraping the bottom for nonexistent remains before setting it on the table with disappointed sigh.
“What Angelus and me didn’t know was that Red was trying to shove Angel’s soul back into his carcass. So while Angelus is sharing this inner trip down memory lane with me, Soul Boy suddenly kicks in and he and Angelus start throwing down. It was this total bizarre clash of the Titans. But the big A won out over the Scrooge.”
Buffy smirked. “I think you mean Scourge.”
“Nope. Me Marley’s Ghost, him Scrooge.” She rubbed the side of her neck absently. “It was right about then that I collapsed. I’d been bleeding from the neck and I guess I was dying. But while Angel was fighting his bad boy self to a standstill, he kept talking to me, telling me not to give up. So I didn’t. We both woke up at the same time, pretty much.”
“So it all ended happily ever after.”
Faith shrugged again and stared sightlessly into the darkness, frowning. “Angel and I didn’t get to talking much after he woke up--I got the impression there was more badness going on here in L.A. than a great big pile of walking rock and the sun going out. When I get in touch with Angel I’m gonna get the lowdown on what I missed when I was in little SunnyD.”
Faith turned to her fellow Slayer. “Your turn to spill, B. What went down in the underground after the rest of us got out? We didn’t think you were gonna make it until you did a flying Wallenda onto the top of the bus. What happened to make the town cave in?”
“It was that medallion Angel gave me. You saw what it did. It started shooting off rays of light and the cavern started to shake. I-I think it released a massive amount of energy and Spike was right at the middle of it. It was supposed to be for a champion, you see, somebody with more than human strength and--and a soul.”
“So you gave it to Spike rather than sacrifice Angel. Good choice. It would have been too bad to get rid of a real champion. Angel would have been missed.”
“That’s not why I did it, Faith,” Buffy countered sharply. She wasn’t going to let any one think she’d made Spike play the role of a sacrificial lamb. “Angel wasn’t sure what the thing was supposed to do, only that it was powerful and unpredictable and Spike figured no one else could wear it. So he asked me to give it to him.”
“Then Spike gets the title of champion because he says so? Wonder if he would have done it if he knew it meant he’d be killed because of it.”
“He knew what was happening to him, Faith. He could have taken that thing off but he didn’t. He gave his life to save the world. That makes him a champion.”
“Champion. Sacrifice. You say potato. I say pre-processed fries.” Faith stood up and stretched, silently signaling the conversation was at an end. She frowned as she watched Buffy trudge up the stairs. Nobody who reamed Buffy’s friends, punched her and ran out when they needed help won the title of champion in her book. A champion fought the good fight because it was the right thing to do not to impress a girl.
Buffy’s feelings were seriously twisted up over this Spike guy and Faith wanted to set her straight. She’d seen Angel’s face when Buffy walked into the Hyperion. He was still crazy over the blonde Slayer; she could see that as clear as day.
She wondered if he knew about Buffy’s sick deal with the bleached wonder. Faith hadn’t been in Sunnydale long enough to get a sense of what was going on there, although a few hints dropped by Willow, Xander, Dawn and that chatty fake blonde Anya had told her a few things.
But Faith had been witness to the love Angel and Buffy had for each other. Could all that have changed in the short time she’d been in prison--because of Spike?
Watching Buffy walk back up the stairs, she decided on a plan. The seeds of an idea, vague and half-formed, were coming together in Faith’s mind as she thought of helping the vampire who’d never given up on her no matter what.
Faith was gonna play matchmaker.

TBC
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