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The Shock of the Normal	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 10695 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
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“So you two can hear each other’s thoughts? That is so freaky!” Dawn couldn’t believe what her sister had told her. After Buffy had come home early in the morning, wearing an I-got-laid-last-night expression that she’d witnessed all too often on Xander’s face, she had plied her older sister for details. Buffy had been naturally disinclined to share about the screwing. But she had told about the new mind-reading thing she had going with Angel.
“Yeah, it’s gonna to take some getting used to. Tara tells me with a little practice we can shut each other out of our minds and then we won’t be hearing each other all the time.”
“I dunno. It sounds kinda romantic…being joined to each other like that. Guess it means you’re not only soulmates but mindmates, too.”
Buffy screwed up her nose. “I don’t think that’s a word, Dawnie.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Guess I do. But just because we’re sharing thoughts doesn’t mean we’re always going to be agreeing with each other. We’re gonna butt heads plenty, you can bet on that.”
“How do you think Spike’s gonna take it?”
Buffy’s blank stare told Dawn she hadn’t thought about Spike--probably for hours. Then her expression firmed. “I doubt he’s going to be on board the Angel-and-Buffy express train. But if he tries to get in the way, I will stake his sorry ass. He can take as many potshots at me that he wants but he’d better stay away from my man.”
Dawn mumbled around her cold cereal. “I haven’t seen him since Willow and me kicked him out of the house. Think we should be worried?”
“Maybe. Spike isn’t the kind to take this lying down. But the de-invite spell is up here and Angel says if I live at the mansion for long enough, Spike won’t be able to get in unless I invite him.”
“How long is ‘long enough?’ I was never clear on that.”
Buffy considered. “He says people living in motels aren’t safe from vamps and most of them only stay a weekend. So I guess it would have to be longer--maybe a week. If Spike doesn’t show up before then, I might sneak around to his crypt and check in on him myself. Oh drat, I won’t be able to use the tunnels though. I told Xander to have it cemented shut.” She eyed her younger sister and impulsively said, “Dawn, would you like to stay over at Janice’s tonight?”
“Would I!” Dawn crowed. Then she peered at Buffy suspiciously. “Wait, is this so you and Angel can boink again?”
“No, so we can do it without your complaining about the noise or barging in on us without knocking the way you do.” Buffy smiled at her younger sister.
“Well, if I can stay at Janice’s, you two can screw your brains out. Literally. Hey, do you guys share thoughts when you’re…”
“Dawn, if you don’t hurry, you’ll be late for school.” Buffy stared pointedly at the wall clock and they heard Xander’s car honking outside.
“Okay, fine. Treat me like I’m a little kid, why don’t you?” Dawn grumbled as she snatched up her bag and headed outside.
__________
Anya was happy. Business was good, even great. Sure, she missed Giles sometimes. She didn’t miss his tendency to interfere with buying things through the mail or his constant corrections of her customer manners but just his quiet steady overall presence. He was the only one of the Scoobies who got her references to various demons or who understood the importance of money. He also showed a great deal more patience with her than the others did.
She thought Angel would make a good substitute for him, though. After all, he managed to combine do-gooding with making money. He was a demon, too. If anyone could understand the hardship of being a demon trying to make it in the mortal world, it would be Angel. That put him a notch above Giles. Maybe she could even find a willing ear to listen to her stories about her glory days as a Vengeance demon. The others tended to get antsy whenever she got into the subject.
Plus, she had her lovely, sexy Xander back. He’d left her early this morning, claiming that he had to get going on building that cement wall to lock out Chips Ahoy. She’d almost blurted out that it wouldn’t be necessary before remembering that she couldn’t tell him why it wasn’t necessary.
She grinned as she thought about the outcome of her wish for Angel. Yep, she’d done good there. You’d think she’d be a little rusty at the vengeance after two years out of the game but, nope. It had been just like riding a bicycle. You never really forgot.
Maybe she was being hasty about giving up the vengeance gig. Still, she had promised Angel she would. Well, no, she hadn’t exactly promised. But she had more or less stated it. She didn’t think he’d rat on her if she went back on her word. But he’d made it clear that she couldn’t maintain the vengeance and keep Xander’s love.
But surely if Xander loved her as much as he said, he’d accept her no matter what? That’s what Buffy did with Angel. Why should Xander be any different or harder to please?
Because Angel isn’t killing humans any more, that’s why. So don’t use that excuse. Anya scowled at that inner voice. “Goodness, it’s just a few human lives. Cheating boyfriends and husbands and the like. They’ve definitely got it coming.”
“Who’s got it coming, Anya?”
She yelped and nearly knocked over an expensive urn she was dusting. “Geez! Way to give me a heart attack.” Then she did a double take. “Angel? How did you…?” Her head swiveled between him and the bright sunlight that lay outside.
“I found another tunnel that leads from my mansion to the one under your store. It’s got a lot of access points, Anya. I’m surprised Spike was the only one using them.”
“Well, most demons stay away from the Slayer and her friends. Spike being the stupid exception, of course.”
He glanced around the store and belatedly remembered why he’d come. “There was something else I needed to talk to you about, Anya. Remember those guys I told you about--the ones who sent that Glarghk demon after Buffy?”
“What about them? Honestly, I don’t know what they’re playing at with their delusions of grandeur and idiotic comic book obsessions. None of the demons around here have even heard of them. Bunch of silly little wannabes, if you ask me.”
“Well, I think you should know that these silly little wannabes placed cameras in various places concerning Buffy--including here in the Magic Box.” Angel wandered over to the table where he’d seen Anya and Spike and started turning slowly around the store.
“Cameras? There are cameras in here? Terrific! First Spike invades, now I’ve got little pervs playing voyeur.”
“They’re not going to be playing Peeping Toms any more. Buffy and I tracked them to their secret hiding place and had them arrested.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” She thought for a minute as her eyes darted around the space. “How did you find out about these cameras, anyway?”
Angel paused while he considered how much to tell Anya. He could see no benefit in keeping this a secret from her. She was bound to find out what the others knew. Besides, he wanted an explanation for what he’d seen.
“Dawn found a hidden camera in a garden gnome and Willow traced the feeds through to places all around Sunnydale. We saw something--interesting in here between you and Spike.” Angel mentally calculated the angle of the scene between Spike and Anya and peered in the opposite direction. He couldn’t see anything except a bunch of store items on a shelf. Hmmmm….
“Me and…” Her face flamed as she realized what he meant. “Oh THAT! Look, it wasn’t what you think. I wasn’t having sex with Spike. I was just getting him drunk and then he tried to have sex with me. But it was all part of the plan to get vengeance on him. You know, for your wish.”
“My wish involved your rolling around on a table with Spike?” Angel raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“No! I had to drug him to make him slow and helpless and I put the drugs in a bottle of whiskey. He lapped it up like a happy little drunk and never knew!” She was so giddy she actually bounced a little.
“Ah. But the rolling…”
“Well, he got a little frisky from whiskey but then the drugs kicked in. I managed to get his sorry ass back to his crypt. But I didn’t have sex with him, I swear!”
Angel eyed her briefly and then nodded. “I believe you, Anya. And the girls at the house didn’t mention anything to Xander so he won’t know either. I’ll give them the heads up. It’ll be a relief to them. Ah, there it is,” he muttered as he picked up a facsimile of a human skull off the shelf.
She walked over to him as he peered into the eye sockets. “What? What did you find?”
He dug into a socket and pulled out what had caught his attention. A small round shiny object lay in his palm before he closed his fist around it until it crunched. “One of the cameras.” He brushed off the remains of the camera into a nearby garbage can. “So you said the drugs were part of a vengeance wish. What happened to him after you left him at the crypt?”
“Well, I managed to get hold of another one of those Glarghk demons you told me about. It injected Spike with its voodoo venom and Spike decided to take a walk in the sun.” She smiled beatifically at his shocked expression.
“You mean Spike is dead? Really dead?”
“As a doornail. Though I’ve never understood what’s so dead about doornails as opposed to doorstops or lamps or boots,” she rambled on in a distracted tone. Except for the vengeance aspect, the demise of Spike had already lost interest for her.
Angel considered the matter. His pesky grandchilde was gone for good. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d had some great times with Spike when he’d been soulless. That their relationship went south was due more to Drusilla’s obsession with her Sire than any real personality differences between them. Of course, once he’d lost his soul that had been a different story.
Still, he’d always thought Spike would go out fighting or that he’d be the one to take the Big Bad permanently out of the world. There was a strange lack of--what would be the word Cordelia would use?--closure in having Spike dead this way. Then again, he couldn’t harm Buffy any more and that was what mattered. The method of his passing was immaterial. Or was it?
He gave Anya an unblinking stare. She shifted uncomfortably. “What? What is it?”
“You’re still a demon.”
Darn. She’d hoped he would ignore that. “Well, it’s an important decision. I don’t want to rush into anything.”
He trained a darkly ironic glance on her. “Unlike the decision to become a demon again? From what Xander told me, he left you standing at the altar just a short while ago. Now, here you are, just a little over a week later, and you’re a demon again. Just how much time did you take after that disappointment before throwing your humanity away?”
Her temper flared at the accusation. “You’re a fine one to talk, bub! I’ve been around for over 11 centuries. I’ve never crossed paths with you but I heard the stories. Darla was a whore when she met you so I doubt her offer to make you a vampire included anything more than a trip to a cheap inn. Just how long did you take to decide being a walking corpse was better than living?”
Angel appeared unfazed by her anger. “We never made it to an inn. That’s how I know how hasty your decision must have been. Anya, is hurting anonymous men so much more important to you than Xander’s happiness? Because, if the answer is yes, then you don’t deserve him.”
Dammit, he was making her feel guilty. Why was she feeling guilty? One of the perks of being a demon meant that she was supposed to be above petty human emotions. That’s why she took D’Hoffryn up so quickly on his offer after Xander left her at the altar. Being a monster meant she wouldn’t have to deal with these stupid mortal feelings.
But she’d still suffered. Becoming non-human hadn’t made the feelings go away. Hurting men hadn’t changed that. Keeping the store running and making money hadn’t changed that. Nothing had made her feel better--except getting Xander back. And, according to Angel, she would lose him if she continued in her vengeful ways. But he didn’t realize all the consequences of his request.
She sighed heavily and leaned back against the counter. “Look, Angel, it’s not that simple. You obviously don’t know everything about the vengeance gig. If I become human again, every wish I’ve recently made will be reversed.” She bent a meaningful stare on him when he opened his mouth to protest.
Ah. He understood. “You mean Spike would return.”
She nodded. “That’s right. He wouldn’t remember any of it…being drugged, getting killed. But he’d still be around and I don’t think you or Buffy would want that. Spike can get nasty when he’s riled.”
Angel frowned as he considered the situation. Anya was right. He knew Spike of old. The dyed menace simply wouldn’t accept defeat and skulk off. He’d try to hurt Angel--and Buffy with him. He’d use any means to pry them apart. He might even resort to violence if necessary.
He wouldn’t dare attack Angel directly; he was too afraid of Buffy to do that. But he had enough clout in Sunnydale to sic one demon after another on him. Spike had problems bringing his schemes to fruition, mainly due to impulse control issues. But he would keep making the attempt until he succeeded--or Buffy staked him.
This was something he would need to discuss with Buffy. Finally he lifted his head and stared at Anya. Something in his face must have relieved her anxieties because she beamed at him. “So it’s settled? I stay a Vengeance demon?”
“Anya, you told me ‘recent’ wishes would be reversed. I’m assuming that not all your wishes would be. Otherwise all the men you slaughtered over 1100 years would have magically sprung back to life when you regained your humanity that first time. So how recent would the wish have to be?”
Her brow furrowed as she comprehended his meaning. “Well, I’ve never reversed any of my wishes even when the women begged me to, so I’m really not sure.” Seeing his unwavering stare, she dropped her head and muttered, “One week. If an entire week elapses after the wishes are made, then they won’t be reversed when I regain my humanity, okay?”
He did a short count in his head. He’d made his wish only two mornings ago. That meant another five days had to elapse. He struggled against his desire to be rid of his troublesome grandchilde once and for all and the probable killings Anyanka would commit if she were allowed to continue in her present course. With Spike’s chip firmly in place, he couldn’t kill human beings. He was no danger to them. But Anyanka could and would kill people. In the end, there was only one moral decision to be made.
“I’m sorry, Anya. I can’t allow you to stay this way even another day.”
Why was he being so difficult about this? What was a short working week compared to years of unending bliss with Buffy? What was wrong with the man? “But, Angel, it’s only another five days!”
“Five days in which you’ll be granting wishes to angry, bitter women who’ll want their men dead--or worse.” Angel’s tone meant he wasn’t going to yield and Anya couldn’t stand it.
“What if I say no? You can’t make me change and you don’t know how to rid me of my powers.” She lifted her chin defiantly and glared at him. She could be just as stubborn as he. Hell, he was male, she was female. He was only 250-odd years old. She was over a millenium. No way was she backing down in front of a child.
Angel’s voice got very quiet as he returned her stare. “If you don’t, I’ll tell Xander about your return to demonhood. I’ll also tell him what I saw taking place in the Magic Box. He may buy your story that it went no further than a quick grope. He may not. Are you willing to take that chance?”
Her face turned white. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
The tension in the store was almost palpable as the two demons faced off. Anya was the first to break. “You-you bastard! God, no wonder I’ve been granting wishes to women. Men are complete shits!”
Angel resisted the urge to sag with relief. Instead he tried to soothe the wounded feelings of the woman with him. “That’s not true, Anya, and you know it. I’m not being selfish here. I’m a champion for the Powers That Be. That means I try to protect human beings whenever I can. If it’s a case of a demon’s happiness--even my own--above human life, then it’s the human lives I place first. I’ve made too many mistakes in the past to backslide now. Please. You know this is the right thing to do.”
Briefly the memory of those lawyers he’d locked in a basement with his Sire and mad Childe came back to him. If he ever got up the courage, he might share that shameful deed with Buffy. It would be a long time before he could do so; it was not one of his prouder moments.
Anya didn’t say another word. She stomped back behind the counter and rustled inside a large jar of unsold chicken’s feet. She pulled out a shiny pendant and threw it at him. “Here. Take it.”
He handled the bauble uncertainly. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Smash it. It’s my power center. When it’s destroyed, my power goes with it. I’ll be dull ole human me again.”
He smiled gently at the disgruntled description. “I doubt you could ever be dull, Anya…with or without your powers. But I can’t do this.” He handed the jewelry back to her.
She gaped at him. What was his problem now? “Why not? It’s really easy. You just pick up a heavy object--”
“That’s not what I meant. I can’t do this because I shouldn’t. It’s not my right. This is your decision. So you should do it.”
“Oh, swell! You bully me into doing this and then place the action all on my shoulders. Typical male posturing!” she huffed. She snatched the pendant back, picked up a large jade paperweight and brought it down on the stone with all her strength. There was a bright flare of green light and a decisive tinkling sound. She lifted the green object in her hand to reveal several shards on the countertop. “There. Satisfied?”
He eyed her with that unnerving penetrating stare and then nodded. “Very. You did the right thing, Anya. You’re a good woman.”
Anya blinked. In all her years as a Vengeance demon, no one had ever told her that…not Halfrek, not D’Hoffryn, not even Xander. She sniffed without looking at him and began sweeping the bits of her broken power into a dustpan. “Thanks. You’re not bad for a murderous fiend yourself.
“Thanks. I think.” Angel turned to head back through the tunnel.
Anya glanced at his retreating form and then called out to him. “Wait!” He looked back. “Get Buffy to give you some heavy blankets from her house and store them in the training room. If you ever want to come in the front way, you could use some of them to travel back and forth from your car.”
He gave her a genuine smile and she felt the same wobbling of the knees that she had when she’d kissed him in the basement. God, he really was a handsome stud. No wonder Buffy fell for him. “Thanks, Anya. I’ll remember that.”
She waved him away and then turned to greet another customer. The woman was eyeing a very expensive amulet and Anya could smell a sale in the air. In spite of her lack of demonic status now, she understood that human life came loaded with a lot of perks. I wonder what Xander will think of those velvet handcuffs I bought from that catalog…?
__________
Bloody hell. What was that taste in his mouth? Spike blinked and tried to lift up his head. That was too much for his aching cranium to take and the pounding that hovered at the edges of his consciousness slammed into him full force. He groaned at the pain and dropped his head back onto the floor, taking unnecessary breaths in an effort to banish the nausea.
Once the urge to purge had passed, he raised his head more slowly this time, pausing at every twinge brought on by his efforts. He was in his crypt, he could ascertain that much…and by the stale, cottony interior of his mouth, he’d evidently been making a lost weekend of it. He looked around and tried to understand.
He’d been drinking…it seemed. But where was the booze? Where were the empties scattered around? Those had been a frequent sight in the summer following Buffy’s death. In between tending Dawn and fighting demons, he’d taken to drowning his sorrows again and again in whatever liquorish libations he’d been able to lay his hands on.
He seized on the thought of Buffy. If he’d been drinking again, it would be because of her. She was the only reason he’d be depressed enough to get pissed. She’d broken up with him. He recalled that all too clearly. That had been at least two weeks ago. Then…Angel had returned.
His eyes narrowed at that memory and he growled angrily. The mighty poof shows up and the Big Bad gets shoved out of the picture. Well, no, he’d been dumped before that so no blame to the nancy boy. He’d wanted to ease the pain and then…then what?
Once again, liquor hadn’t been the culprit otherwise there’d be evidence. Right, there was some sort of mystery going on here; he just needed to figure out what it was. Later. His head hurt way too much for him to think about it now.
All his fuzzy thinking did was lead him back to Buffy. She was the cause of this, whatever it was. As for Angel--well, unless his curse had been magically reversed, he wouldn’t still be around, now would he? He’d just take a quick peek around at Buffy’s house and see where the land lay.
Spike squinted out the windows and flinched away from the bright light. Shit, it was daylight out. He could still take the tunnels, though.
__________
A short trip downstairs revealed the Slayer’s telltale odor. Spike grinned in triumph. She’d been to see him and recently, too, by the smell of it. He knew it; she had gotten tired of Angel and come back to old Spike.
Then he sniffed harder and frowned. It wasn’t just Buffy’s scent--he could smell his grandsire in evidence. Not his presence but his scent mingled with Buffy’s. The unmistakable musk of arousal--both Angel and Buffy’s--were together. Sod it, had the two been shagging down here? No, the smell wasn’t that of completion but hinted at sex play cut short.
He growled in anger again and headed for the tunnel--only to be met with a solid wall that extended from the floor to the ceiling. This was quick-drying cement and a few minutes thumping it did nothing more than create a few fist-shaped dents and jar his arms all the way up to his shoulders. He was cut off.
That bitch had done this to him. Somehow she’d found out about his entry into her home; this was her way of keeping him out. Suddenly the thought occurred to him that he might have been walled into his crypt. He raced back upstairs but a quick check revealed the door was left untouched. He kicked himself for worrying. It had been stupid; the windows had been left unobstructed. If Buffy had wanted to kill him, she would do the quick humane thing and stake him while he lay unconscious not wall him up to starve.
So the softhearted little bint had cut off access to his tunnel but but left him intact? That definitely hinted that she still cared for him--or maybe thought him still helpless and therefore not to be harmed. But she was crazy if she thought a cement wall would stop him. He’d just wait until nightfall and go to her house. Whether she was with Angel or not was immaterial. He’d find a way to wreck any newfound happiness they had with each other. And if Angelus had reappeared, he’d stake the bastard and worm his way back into Buffy’s heart afterwards.
An icy smile flickered over his face and he patted his pockets for the first of what would probably be quite a few cigarettes. It was a long way ‘til night.

TBC
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The Shock of the Normal