Humanity | By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 4278 -:- 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. |
Notes: Spoilers for BtVS up to season six, episode “Wrecked” and spoilers for A:tS up to season three, episode “Dad”. In my AU, no one lost his memory in “Tabula Rasa”
The song Lorne sings to Connor is by Billy Joel, “Lullaby (Goodnight My Angel)” from his album River of Dreams
Thoughts are shown in italics.
Angel sat quietly in his darkened room. He was staring, in unblinking fascination, at the bottle that stood on top of his bedroom end table. The emerald liquid inside seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Near it lay the letter that had accompanied the plain wooden box that had held the bottle of fluid.
Angel: I love you. Come back to me. Buffy
It was a simple enough note. That was why he distrusted it. He knew Buffy. She would have called or come to see him in person the way she had weeks ago.
He recalled how distraught she had been, claiming that Spike had been able to hit her, demanding to know from Wesley what had gone wrong with her resurrection. She had insisted that they all pretend she’d been there for weeks. It was all part of an elaborate plan to make Spike believe that the Buffy he’d been able to attack had actually been a golem, a magical creature conjured up by Willow.
He had been amazed at Willow’s growing power. It seemed as if nothing magical lay outside her grasp. But neither the wiccan nor Wesley had been able to come up with an explanation for Buffy’s newfound vulnerability to Spike. The only solution they’d found had been a binding spell to keep Spike from hurting her again.
Then there’d been that inexplicable phone call out of the blue. Angel had been so startled to hear Buffy inquire about the properties of Mohra blood that he’d failed to ask why she was interested. For an anxious moment, he’d wondered if she’d somehow remembered the forgotten day--the day The Powers That Be had seen fit to erase from everyone’s memory but his own.
For one magical day, he’d been human. Human--and in Buffy’s arms. For days afterwards, he’d had intense dreams, reliving the blissful hours that had been spent with his beloved. The attempt to be cool and rational at his kitchen table, the fierce lovemaking that had followed it, leaving them both sated and exhausted. He’d woken from those dreams with raging hard-ons and an ache in his heart that he’d ruthlessly hidden from everyone around him.
Now there was a bottle of Mohra blood on his nightstand. But if Buffy hadn’t sent it, who had? It could be a present from an enemy, someone who wanted to trick him with poison. He’d experienced the blood’s effects only that once. If this was some other substance, who knew what kind of effect it might have on him?
Of course, he could always call and ask if she’d sent the note without mentioning the blood. If she said she’d sent it, he could patiently explain why he couldn’t take advantage of such a gift. If she hadn’t, then he’d know it was a trap.
But what if this was exactly what it appeared to be? The end result would be the same. He’d be human, with human weakness and unable to fight the powers of darkness as effectively. That had been proven to him the second time he’d fought the Mohra. He’d gotten his ass royally kicked and Buffy had had to rescue him. He’d gone back to the Oracles and insisted they remove his humanity. He’d done it to protect Buffy.
Only to have her die anyway.
He’d often wondered if he were being punished somehow for turning his back on his friends, for leaving her in the first place. He’d castigated himself over and over, thinking that if he’d only been there she wouldn’t have died. Another, colder, more rational, part of himself whispered that she was the Slayer. She would have died young in any case. That was what eventually happened to all Slayers.
Then his sacrifice was for nothing. He could have stayed human and remained with her for the little time she had left. What difference could it have made? It was during those moments that the temptation to use the gift presented to him was strongest. He resisted it--again--and deliberately replaced the bottle in the drawer.
__________
“Buffy, why can’t I have an allowance? I’m fifteen years old, for God’s sake. I want some spending money of my own!”
Buffy sighed, feeling deeply put-upon. This was a conversation she was getting tired of having. Ever since Melissa--the vampire-turned-human--had left them all that money, Dawn had been pestering her for her share. But Buffy had put her foot down. Mostly. “Dawn, I don’t want you to go crazy spending this cash. I know it seems like a lot to you but $30,000 can go fast. I’m saving it for college. For me and you,” she added hastily.
Dawn huffed, “What makes you think I’m going to college? Spike says schools are factories for spewing out mindless little automatons.”
“Quoting Spike on anything isn’t going to convince me to give you money, Dawn. Besides, what do you need to spend it on that’s so important, anyway? More tattoos?” she shot back.
Dawn appealed to Willow and Tara as the two came downstairs. “Willow, don’t you think I should get an allowance?”
Willow threw up her hands in self-defense. “Hey, don’t get me involved in your little family squabble. Especially if it involves money.”
Dawn flounced over to a sofa. “Great. Maybe I should get a job.”
“You’re too young,” all three women chorused at once. “You’re a minor, Dawn. You can’t get a job--not doing anything legitimate, anyway,” Tara pointed out.
A speculative gleam appeared in the teenager’s eye. “Don’t even think of taking up a life of crime, Dawn,” Buffy glared. “You get into enough trouble as it is.”
Buffy put on a light jacket and made sure she had enough stakes. Not for the first time, she wished she had a coat with numerous inside pockets. It would be handy to have someplace to carry weapons.
Maybe a long coat like Spike’s would do the trick. It seemed to have a lot of …. She pulled herself back from that thought. Couldn’t she go a day without thinking or talking about Spike and his questionable behavior? Then a new thought occurred to her.
She walked over to Willow, out of earshot of Dawn. “Willow, remember that avoidance spell you put on the golem? Could you do it for me?”
Willow nodded, aware of Buffy’s unspoken anxiety. “No problem. It’s only good for a few days, though. You’ll have to get it renewed every three days or so to keep it working.”
Buffy gave a grateful sigh. “Good enough. I want to keep out of Spike’s clutches--literally.”
The spell was short and ridiculously easy. It simply caused Spike to go in circles, rebounding off an invisible, intangible barrier surrounding Buffy. Every time he tried to head in her direction, he’d wind up wherever she wasn’t. He wouldn’t even suspect that he was under a spell. He’d only be aware that he couldn’t find her. With her mind set at ease in this matter, Buffy sauntered out to patrol the neighborhood.
__________
As it turned out, Spike wasn’t looking for Buffy. She wasn’t far from his thoughts, though. Ever since the box with the Mohra blood had been delivered to him, he’d been debating the pros and cons of becoming human. If he was human, Buffy wouldn’t be able to throw up the de-invite spell to keep him out of her home. He could move about in daylight without that damn pesky blanket.
But what would he do as a human? He really wasn’t good for anything as a mortal. As a badass vampire, he’d proven his usefulness to Buffy and her little gang of Slayerettes on innumerable occasions. But as a human? What would he do?
It wasn’t as if he could get a job. He was lacking all necessary requirements. He had no I.D., no driver’s license, no credit cards, no birth certificate, any of the things that human beings needed to exist in the modern world. With the money that the ex-vampire bint had left him, he might be able to pay certain shady characters for fake documents. But then what?
Spike tucked the vial away in a strongbox he kept carefully hidden in his crypt. He had plenty of time to make up his mind about this. He could wait. Time to go on patrol, see if he could find the Slayer of his dreams. Maybe meeting her again might make up his mind about the whole humanity question.
But he couldn’t lay hold of her at all. He made the round of the usual places but there was no sign of her. Sod it all! She was avoiding him again, he was sure of it. At this rate, why should he become human? That was no guarantee she’d want or love him.
He snarled in frustration and decided to head farther east. Maybe she was looking through Dracula’s old haunting grounds.
__________
Buffy was having a quiet night of it. She’d never admit it either to the others or Spike--Oh great. You went, what, ten minutes without thinking about the peroxide menace?--but things were boring without demon ass to kick. Maybe there was a prophecy brewing about some major disaster or other and she was missing it without Giles’ input to let her know. Perhaps she should call Wesley in L.A. and see if he’d read of any demonic uprising she should know about. But then she might have to talk to Angel…..
She shook herself. Why should she be afraid of speaking to Angel? They weren’t enemies, they should be able to talk to each other like grownups. She’d loved him--no, if she was honest, she loved him still. A one-night stand with Spike hadn’t changed that. That’s why she needed to stay away from Angel. Encounters with him after his leaving Sunnydale had only proved hard on them both.
She halted, surprised at where she found herself. Unconsciously she’d wound up in front of Angel’s mansion. She hesitated before going in. It could do no good to stir up old memories like this.
Come on, what harm could it do? She took a deep breath and pushed at the door.
Inside it appeared much as it had before Angel left. There was little furniture and it had the dusty feel of someplace that had been long abandoned. She wandered over to the bed and plopped down on it, raising a cloud of dust from the stripped mattress. Unbidden, memories of her night of lovemaking with Angel rose up in her mind. She’d been so eager, so inexperienced, and she’d wanted him so badly. She remembered how he’d pulled away, just for a moment, as if reluctant to take advantage of her.
“Buffy, maybe we shouldn’t.”
But she’d overridden his protest, unwilling to let him go for even a moment. The night had been full of danger, like many of their nights together. It’d also been her 17th birthday. Somehow it had seemed right to finish it in the arms of the man she loved. She couldn’t forget it--despite the horrific consequences.
Buffy stretched out on the mattress. God, she felt weary to the bone. The fatigue, the strain that had been tugging at her, only slightly lifted when she’d gone to L.A. such a very short time ago, fell on her at once. It would be good to sleep.
She closed her eyes, telling herself it would be just for a few minutes.
__________
Angel juggled Connor in his arms, cooing softly at him. The baby had his mother’s blue eyes, though Cordelia had told him they might darken as the boy grew older. He hoped not. Darla and he hadn’t had the sunniest history together, but they’d managed to bring forth into the world something miraculous. He wanted just the smallest reminder of her stamped on his son.
“Angel, how about letting me hold him for a moment? I promise I won’t drop him--more than once.” Cordelia grinned and batted her eyes innocently when Angel’s head shot up to glare at her. “Geez, Angel, learn to take a joke already. I hope this kid hasn’t inherited your sense of humor.”
Angel handed the baby over to her gingerly. “Mind his head, Cordelia.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes and rested Connor’s head against her left shoulder. “It’s okay, Angel. I think I can manage. I’m the one with the boobs, remember?” She glanced at the clock and frowned. “How come Wesley and Gunn aren’t back yet? It’s been three hours since they went after those sleigh boggles. I thought he said they were minor spirits.”
“That’s sleigh beggies, Cordy, and just because they’re minor doesn’t mean they’re harmless. They’re actually shape shifters. You can spot them…”
“I know, by the feet turned backwards. I was listening when Wesley described them.”
Suddenly the phone rang, causing Cordelia to start. Angel hesitated, caught between snatching his son from her and getting the phone. When she waved him impatiently towards the office, he reluctantly pushed open the door and picked up the phone. “Angel Investigations, we help the….”
“Angel, Gunn’s been injured. One of the sleighs bit him. I’m driving him back right now.”
“I’ll get out the bandages.” Angel slammed down the receiver and raced back. “Cordelia….”
“I’m way ahead of you.” Cordelia started briskly laying out medical supplies with one hand. They’d all become amateur medics in the course of their constant fight against evil.
Fred said, “What’s up, guys?”
Cordelia jumped and gave a tiny shriek. “God, Fred, heart attack much? You’re as bad as Angel with that sneaking around.”
Fred gave one of her twitchy grins. “Sorry. When you’ve been on the run from demons trying to kill you for five years, Ah guess being stealthy becomes second nature.”
Cordelia patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Fred. I didn’t mean to snap at you. We just heard bad news. Gunn’s been hurt in a fight with some demons.”
The Host came down, toweling his head. “Did somebody mention demons? Oh god, it’s not another attack, is it, because I just washed my hair.”
Just then, Wesley burst in with Gunn’s limp weight dragging across his shoulder. Angel hefted up the big man easily and frowned, sniffing the air at the scent of blood.
“He’s not bleeding badly and the bite didn’t seem that serious. But on the way back here, he suddenly slumped forward in the seat unconscious.”
“I thought you said these things weren’t that dangerous,” Cordelia accused.
“Not in their regular form, no, but one of the sleighs transformed itself into a kind of demon I’ve never seen before, one with enormous fangs that it used to bite Gunn. I think it must have injected Gunn with some kind of venom.”
“So why didn’t you take him to a hospital?”
Wesley shook his head as he started frantically flipping through demonic texts from his library. “I doubt a hospital would be qualified to handle this sort of emergency, Cordelia, not to mention the fact that Gunn doesn’t carry any kind of hospital insurance.”
Angel gently deposited Gunn on the hotel lobby couch and lifted his shirt. The bite appeared to be small punctures, without tearing, but the wound was oozing an ugly blackish-green ichor with similar mottling spreading to the flesh beyond it. He sniffed again, wrinkling his nose at the foul odor arising from the bites. “It’s poison, all right. Wesley, any luck with those books?”
“I’m looking up sleighs and going on from there.”
Cordelia handed Connor over to Fred and plopped herself down at the computer, calling out, “Mind describing the demon that slay ride…”
“Sleigh beggie,” both men shouted.
“Right. Just describe the gross demony thing it turned into and I’ll pull up a search engine on it.”
“It had a three-foot-long snake-like neck with glowing greenish eyes, a low long body like a dachsund’s with grayish fur on its back and eight legs.”
Cordelia gave a mock shudder. “Ewwwww. Sounds like the result of a mating between a tarantula and a rattlesnake. Wonder who paid for that wedding. Got it!” she shouted triumphantly moments later. “It’s called a Groffish. ‘It makes up for its slowness in battle by venom that first paralyzes and then kills its prey. Then it can waddle up to it and eat it at leisure.’” She looked up from the screen with an uncharacteristically sober look. “It says there’s no known antidote.”
“Nonsense,” Angel snapped. “There’s always an antidote.”
“Duh! No doubt. This text just says there’s no known antidote.”
Wesley put down the book he was holding and picked up another one. “Well, we’ll just have to find one, won’t we? Lorne, do you have any ideas?”
The Host folded up the towel neatly and laid it aside. “Not a one, babe. Never heard of these things before.”
__________
It was several minutes later with the five of them looking through the books and Angel checking on Gunn periodically. Since he’d been brought in, Gunn hadn’t moved or spoken. His limbs were slowly becoming more and more rigid and the discoloration from his wound was spreading. Angel assured them he could still detect Gunn’s heartbeat though it was imperceptibly slowing moment by moment.
Wesley tiredly rubbed at his eyes. He hadn’t changed his dirty clothes since he’d returned and every moment he paused the aches from the battle would wake up and make themselves felt. Fred noticed his fatigue and murmured, “Wesley, maybe you should take it easy. We can keep looking while you check on Gunn.”
The former Watcher shook his head wearily. “No, I’m best qualified to know what we should look for. Why don’t you check on him?”
Angel stood up abruptly. “All right. I’ve got something that might cure him.” The others gaped at him.
Cordelia rose with the beginnings of anger showing on her face. “You’ve got something that might cure Gunn and you let us all waste time like this? What are you, a complete moron?”
Angel stood his ground as she stalked up to him in full Queen C mode. “I didn’t want to risk it because I didn’t know whether it was a cure or more poison. But, with Gunn fading away, we’re really out of options.”
Cordelia frowned as Wesley spoke. “Angel, what are you talking about?” Angel was silent a second longer and then told them about the Mohra blood.
The others watched as he poured a small amount into the bite wound. “How much do we need?” Fred whispered.
The vampire remained motionless, his unwavering eyes on Gunn’s still form. “I’m not sure…”
Without warning, Gunn’s eyes flew open and he gasped, taking in huge gulps of air. “Oh man, remind me to wear biteproof armor the next time we try a stunt like this.”
“Gunn, you’re alive! Thank heavens!”
Fred smiled giddily as Cordelia hugged Gunn fiercely and then backed up in embarrassment. “Don’t think that I was worried about you for a minute, you big lug!”
Lorne smiled down at him. “Well, hello, Sunshine, welcome back to the world of the living.”
Gunn sat up gingerly on the couch, tugging at his torn clothes. “Damn, this sweater is a goner. And it was brand new, too.” He glanced up at Wesley, slightly confused. “Hey, Wes, how’d we get back here so fast? Last I remember we were in the car and then…” He trailed off, looking around the hotel lobby.
Wesley replied, “You were bitten by one of the demons and then you passed out. You were sinking fast under the venom’s effects but Angel found a way to cure you.”
Gunn looked over at Angel who was standing impassively off to the side. “You did? Thanks, man.”
Wesley walked over to Angel, staring at the vampire sternly. “Now perhaps you might like to explain how you got hold of demon blood and why you didn’t mention having some in your possession.”
Cordelia’s head shot up as something clicked. “Did you get some from that time you spent with Buffy?”
“There was a demon when Buffy was here? Ah don’t remember that,” Fred asked.
“No, this was before.”
“Before what? Before she died?”
“Yeah, Gunn, but it was before Doyle died.”
“Who’s Doyle?” Fred felt herself becoming more baffled by the second.
There was a moment of silence which Wesley rushed to fill. “He was my….predecessor. He was also the one who gave Cordelia her visions. I’m curious to hear this story, too, Angel. Care to enlighten those of us who aren’t in the know?”
Angel recounted the story--how over two years ago a fight with a Mohra demon had made him human. He’d been with Buffy for a whole day but the terrible second encounter with the same demon had left him convinced that humanity was a luxury he simply couldn’t afford, not when it might mean Buffy’s life and the lives of others they’d sworn to protect. He explained about the mysterious package that had arrived in the mail just days earlier and how he’d suspected it might be some enemy trying to poison him.
“Whoa, hold up. You thought this might be poison and you gave it to me? You didn’t think I was dying fast enough or something?” Gunn shot at him.
Angel spoke sharply in self-defense. “Look, Gunn, as long as I thought there was a chance the others might be able to come up with a solution on their own, I didn’t want to risk it. But you were dying and we were at the eleventh hour. What more harm could it have done?”
Gunn rubbed at his skin through the torn sweater and lifted it to stare at his now-unblemished flesh. “Guess you were right about that,” he admitted grudgingly. “But now you know this stuff ain’t poison, why don’t you use it?”
Angel paced agitatedly across the lobby floor. “Weren’t you listening, Gunn? I can’t fight the forces of darkness as a mere mortal.”
Gunn scowled. “Look, the rest of us are mere mortals and we doing just fine, thank you.”
Fred raised her eyebrows at him. “Ah wouldn’t call nearly dying from a demon snakebite doing fine.”
Gunn waved impatiently. “Yeah, yeah, life’s a bitch and then you die. But we do the best we can how we can and I think we’ve already proved that we can manage without your vampire self, Angel. So what’s really holding you back?”
Angel glanced at Connor nestled securely in Fred’s arms. “If I go back to Buffy now, I’d have some serious explaining to do about certain…changes in my life. She has enough problems of her own right now without added complications.”
Wesley sighed. “It’s a baby, Angel. I don’t think she’d be likely to hold a grudge against it.”
Cordelia flung him a disbelieving look. “Fine, Wesley. Do you want to talk to Buffy and tell her how Angel screwed Darla six ways from Sunday and she gave birth to his child? Angel’s right. That’s not the sort of thing even an ex-girlfriend’s going to take lying down.”
Fred looked down at Connor and spoke up. “She’s bound to find out about the baby sooner or later, rahght? So you might as well let her know and see if she wants to be a part of its life. Ah mean, if she’s interested. She could be its mommy and then you could decide about being a regular human daddy. You could get to do all the things with the baby that you can’t do now, like playing with it in the sunshine, taking it to the beach, attending PTA meetings and Little League games…”
“All right, Fred. I get the point. But Buffy has too much on her plate as it is, coping with that little sister of hers and patrolling the Hellmouth. I think of all of you as being Connor’s family not an ex-girlfriend I only see whenever one of us is in trouble. Somehow I don’t see her getting together with me and playing happy families with Connor. It just doesn’t seem to be in the cards for us.”
“Well, it certainly won’t be if you keep hiding things from her and leaving her out of the loop. Last thing I’d want is some pissed-off superchick throwing down with me just ‘cause I casually failed to mention having a baby,” Gunn threw in.
Lorne piped up, “I have to agree with Gunn on this one, Angelcakes. This girl sounds like she’s been through a lot. But if she can handle all that, why not see how she’ll deal with this?”
Angel turned back and faced them all. “Listen, guys. This is my decision to make and I’ve already made it. I’ll tell Buffy about Connor if and when the time comes but I’m not mentioning anything about the Mohra blood. Besides, we’ve all seen how it can be put to much better use than giving me back my humanity. You’ll thank me for this the next time one of you gets some life-threatening injury and there’s still plenty of blood around to help.” He pulled Connor out of Fred’s arms and brought him up to his room, closing the door softly behind him.
__________
Cordelia plopped down on the couch next to Gunn. “Well, there goes another night at Angel Investigations. You’d think I’d get used to all the surprises thrown my way, but he just keeps pulling them on me like a freaky magician with an endless source of rabbits.”
Wesley stretched, wincing at his aches and pains again. “Well, I think that’s all for tonight. Perhaps we should all turn in. We’ll have clearer heads tomorrow. And then…”
“And then what? You heard the man. He’s made up his mind. When have any of us ever been able to talk him out of any notion that sinks into that thick skull of his?” Gunn demanded.
Wesley shrugged helplessly. “Maybe sleeping on this will help clear his head as well.” The others appeared profoundly unconvinced. They cleaned up the mess in the lobby in silence.
Angel stood over Connor’s crib as he inwardly debated the conversation he’d just had with the others. His jaw set stubbornly. He knew what he was doing. It was dangerous enough in his life as it was without having to worry about Buffy’s safety as well. But words spoken from over two years ago floated into his mind.
“You know, it’s a good thing I didn’t fantasize about you turning human only about ten zillion times ‘cause today would have been a real letdown.”
He’d fantasized, too, though he hadn’t ever told her. What would have been the good? He’d always thought it an impossibility. Now it seemed as if that dream lay within his grasp yet again. But how would he know the right thing to do?
Lorne had told him to talk to Buffy. He could tell the truth about the Mohra blood. But he knew what her answer would be. He remembered from that fateful day. She would want his humanity no matter what the cost.
The question was, after all this time, what did he want?
TBC
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo