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Violently Happy	By : marksandspence Category: BtVS Crossovers > Misc - Het - Male/Female Views: 3216 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part1a
- 2-Part1b
- 3-Part1c
- 4-Part1d
- 5-Part1e
- 6-Part2a
- 7-Part2b
- 8-Part3a
- 9-Part3b
- 10-Part3c
- 11-Part4a
- 12-Part4b
- 13-Part4c
- 14-Part4d
- 15-Part5a
- 16-Part5b
- 17-Part5c
- 18-Part5d
- 19-Part5e
- 20-Part5f
- 21-Part5g
- 22-Part5h
- 23-Part6a
- 24-Part6b
- 25-Part6c
- 26-Part6d
- 27-Part6e
- 28-p.s. Flight of Fancy
- 8
- 9
- 10
Scene 6
They arrive at the entrance to the lair –Joseph is standing there. He steps confidently in front of them.
Joseph: “Miranda thought you’d come. She needs your word that you won’t interfere, else I can’t let you pass.”
Angel: “She needs our help.”
Joseph: “It is Miranda’s sense of duty that requires she do this alone. She understands the risk. I wouldn’t underestimate her.”
Angel: “We can’t just stand here and wait.”
Joseph: “Send your people to guard the exits, if you like. No one leaves.”
Angel: “Wes, Cordy—go around to the back entrance and stay there. We’ll call for you if we need you. Gunn and I are going in—[looking at Joseph] to observe.”
Joseph: [looking Angel dead in the eye] “This is Immortal business. Do I have your word that you will not involve yourself?”
Angel: [frustrated nod] “Yes.”
Joseph nods and lets them pass. Somehow they find a way to observe, without being seen, the main cavern where all the action is. Furthest from the entrance, we see Dru and her marrow demon boyfriend, who I will subsequently refer to as Phil, and Spike. Spike is tied to a chair. An assortment of other demons are milling about. We hear a small commotion from one of the entrances. Dru and Phil exchange a look—this is what they were expecting. Miranda steps out into the main cavern. She’s dressed like a cowboy—right down to the hat and the long coat (and, of course, Cordy’s boots). She tosses her big duffle bag on the ground in front of her. She casually unzips it and fishes inside for something. We don’t see what she grabs, but when she’s finished, she stands up and flashes what looks like a small pistol. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes from her coat pocket and proceeds to light it with the pistol, which turns out to be a lighter. She twirls the pistol/lighter, but when she goes to put it swiftly in the gun holders on her hips, she finds them full already with other weapons (stakes). She shrugs and tosses it back in the still open bag. No one has moved since she came in, except that Dru is now sitting on Spike’s lap (he looks annoyed).
Miranda: “Should we get started, then?”
Drusilla: [to Spike] “She’s early...still broken, but couldn’t stay away [She strokes Spike’s face with her hand]. If you’re a good boy...” [She whispers something in his ear that we don’t hear. He turns his head away from her in annoyance. She giggles at this.]
Phil: “Presumably, you haven’t come alone. Still, [looking around] I think you will recognize that you are outnumbered. From what Spike here tells us, I think we might be able to make some sort of a deal.”
Miranda: “I don’t know what he told you, but I can assure you it makes no difference. Oh, and just so we’re clear, I AM alone.”
Phil: [ignoring her] “I am prepared to offer you your freedom and his (indicating Spike); all you have to do is lead us to your enemies. It is, surely, a win-win situation.”
Miranda: “Are you done talking? Because I’d hate to interrupt. See these boots? [She shows them off] These boots were surely not made for negotiating. And this is not a rescue mission. [to Spike] Sorry, love. [to all] Quite simply, I’m here to kill you. All. And I don’t have all day, so I’d like to get started rather soonish, if you don’t mind.”
Phil: [laughs] “I don’t think you’re in the position, quite simply, to make such threats. Just give us the names and addresses of three others like yourself and once we have them, we’ll let you...”
Miranda interrupts him.
Miranda: [completely ignoring him; in a cheery/light-hearted tone] “Wait, wait. Who am I? I went to a great deal of trouble putting this little ensemble together (indicating her outfit), so before we begin you have to guess. [confused looks from everyone] Come on now. Dru, you like playing games—oh, but right, you’re a crazy psychotic bitch and so probably not very up on pop culture. Anyone?”
Phil: [trying to ignore her bizarre comments] “So do we have a deal?”
Spike: [Seeing the look on Miranda’s face; genuine concern] “There’s too many, love. Why not let ‘em take a few—saves you the trouble of killing them yourself, right?”
Miranda: [Fleeting look of disappointment upon hearing Spike’s words. Then back to business] “Oops. Almost forgot. [she pulls two grenades out of her knapsack, pulls the release and tosses them into two of the side entrances; they explode leaving only the exit behind her unblocked]. [ominous] Nobody leaves. [back to flippant] Ok, one more hint and then we really have to get going.”
She pulls something out of her coat pocket and tosses it quickly towards Phil—it is a small metal object that lodges in his forehead (not killing him, as it is small). As soon as this happens, he shrugs in aggravation and indicates to the ‘foot soldiers’ in the room to ‘get her’. He pulls the object from his forehead and looks at it. It’s an old west Marshall’s star. Back to the action. A few minions rush towards her. She stands there very calmly—pretends to be looking for a place to put her half smoked cigarette. She carefully places it on the ground just as the first guys are upon her. As she is standing back up, she pulls out two small swords and in a coordinated circular motion, cuts off three of their heads. Witnessing this, the rest of the rushing hoard holds back for a moment and as seems to be the stereotype in fight scenes like this (one against many), the minions form an ‘ominous’ circle around her. After a few minutes of circling, with Miranda looking very intensely at the hoard of minions, gripping her weapons, she relaxes for a moment and stands up straight.
Miranda: [irritated] “Ok, somebody has got to go first and traditionally, it would be one of you lot. That’s how these things work. Otherwise, this circling thing could go on all day and we might as well go back to the bloody talking. Ready?”
At this, there is some shrugging by the minions and a few of them charge her.
[Author's note: I’m not one for writing detailed fight scenes. Try to imagine a Bruce Lee film crossed with the chicks from Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Miranda’s fighting style is more martial arts-y than say Buffy’s, which makes sense considering that Miranda doesn’t have the super powers that Buffy has. She also expertly makes use of an array of different weapons. So imagine Miranda kicking some serious ass as Dru, Spike & Phil look on. A couple of cute moments—at one point, Miranda picks up her cigarette off the ground. She fights in the direction of Spike—when she gets close enough, she says:
Miranda: “Mind holding my cigarette, love?”
Spike: "No worries.” [She moves to put it in his mouth. Before she does so, he says] The Quick and the Dead.”
Miranda: “Figures you’d be the only one to get it. Thought about doing The Limey, but couldn’t quite figure how to pull off Terrence Stamp.” [She puts the cigarette in his mouth and he takes a drag.]
The fighting takes her away again. Spike is watching her intently. There’s something strange about her—not the fact that she’s kicking ass (which is certainly surprising considering her state when he left her), but her demeanor as she does it. She’s obviously putting on a show with all the snarky comments and swaggering, but it’s obvious to him that just under the surface is incredible concentration—almost as if under it all, she’s in a trance. Even when she speaks to him like just then, she doesn’t seem to actually see him—it’s all part of the show.
She is working her way through all the minions and it is becoming clear that she is completely capable of clearing the room. When she is just about done, Phil grabs an ax and walks toward her. One of the vamps caught her by surprise and dislocated her shoulder, but other than that, she is virtually untouched. She manages to pop it in and finish off the last of them when she turns to Phil.
Miranda: “Now this, I have been looking forward to. [She puts down the weapon she has and out of her coat pulls her usual long sword. They fight. He takes a swing with the ax and misses—she grabs the handle and pulls it forward, his arm with it] You know, I REALLY hate those fingernails. I just don’t get it. I mean, how do you get ANY housework done?” [at this, she takes her sword and cuts the handle of the axe, taking his fingers (and nails) with it. He cries in pain and then finds another weapon. Meanwhile, an abrupt change of expression comes across Dru’s face. She suddenly looks frightened.]
Drusilla: “She’s going to kill me. I see it. The game’s over and I didn’t get the fluffy bunny. [She rushes to the wall where she grabs a set of keys hanging from a nail. She walks with them toward Spike and starts to fumble with the keys. Sounding a bit too lucid for Dru:] Help me, Spike. Don’t let her kill me. I’ll disappear. Promise.”
Spike doesn’t say anything. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking by his expression—maybe he is ever-so-slightly conflicted. Just as Dru is about to unlock the chains, Miranda throws something from across the room that hits Dru, hurtling her backwards away from Spike.
Miranda: [to Dru] “No. It’s not fair to make him choose.”
After another moment, she kills Phil by taking off his head with her sword. She turns to Dru, who is now scurrying backwards on the floor—too paralyzed by fear to get up and run away. As Miranda passes by Spike, she pauses for a moment. Without taking her eyes off Dru, she says to Spike, rather coldly:
Miranda: “I have a rule about ex-girlfriends—ex’s of any kind, really. Can’t be objective—motives are never entirely clear so I made rule. I don’t kill them. I’ve been able to stick to it—one of the few that’s held up over the years. But this is different. [She turns to look at Spike] I’m sorry.”
Before he has a chance to respond—she turns away. She’s afraid of what she might see. She walks over to Dru.
Miranda: “Time to end the psychosis.” [She lifts her sword, as if to decapitate Dru, but then shoots a fleeting glance in Spike’s direction. Instead of swinging her sword, she pulls out a stake with her other hand and drives it into Dru’s chest. As with the other (guinea pig), she doesn’t turn to dust. Miranda walks back to Spike and as she uses her sword to cut through the chain holding him, she says:] Based on the other bloke, you’ve got about 30 seconds to say your goodbyes.”
She takes the cigarette from his lips and immediately turns her back to him and walks away. Spike frowns—he’s not sure what to do. He looks over to Dru, who calls his name weakly. He hesitates another moment, looking at Miranda’s back as she walks away. Dru calls to him again and he goes to her this time. We see Miranda’s face as she walks away. Her steps are starting to slow down, as if she is being overcome with fatigue. Her face has a pained sadness. In a few seconds, we hear the ‘dust’ sound and Dru is gone. Spike stands up.
Spike: “Miranda. Wait—I...”
Miranda: [She stops and turns around to look at him. The show is over—she’s herself again. Resolute.] “I need some time. [the tone in her voice indicates that she means ‘time to think’. The implication is that she won’t be jumping into his arms just yet...she quickly adds] I’ll see you back in Sunnydale.”
Spike gets her meaning, and although he’s confused, he doesn’t protest (a bit shellshocked?). Miranda walks toward the exit and leaves. Spike sits down in the chair.
**
Scene switches to outside the cave, where Joseph, Angel and Gunn are waiting. Miranda walks out, looking very weary. To Joseph:
Miranda: “It’s done.”
Joseph nods and Miranda touches his arm. Something seems to pass between them, and when Miranda lets go, her knees buckle. Joseph helps her up.
Joseph: “You should get some rest. I’ll stay behind for a bit—in case anyone wanders in...or out.”
Miranda: [very solemn and serious] “Let the blonde one pass. [J nods] [to Angel] Can I stay at your place tonight?”
Angel: “Yeah, sure. Stay as long as you like.”
Miranda: [nods] “Carry my sword back for me? I’ve got a few things to do. [anticipating his response] Alone.”
He agrees, she passes the sword to him (it’s obvious that she can’t even lift it at this point) and walks off.
Joseph: “Miranda. [she stops and turns] This doesn’t change anything. We all make mistakes.” [She doesn’t say anything, but turns and continues walking] [to Angel] “Keep an eye on her for me—maybe follow her with the sword. It isn’t safe for her to be free of it.”
Angel agrees.
Jump to scenes of Angel following Miranda around the town. Her movements are slow and pained, yet deliberate. She makes stops at a shop selling flowers—comes out with one red and one white rose. She then visits four liquor stores, the last of which she leaves with a bottle of something. She goes into drug store and gets an ice pack. Finally, we see her get out of a cab at a small church. We see from the sign that it is a catholic church called St. Michael’s. First, she tries to open the front door—it’s locked. She tugs on it a bit, but quickly gets frustrated. She walks around the side where there is a gated small graveyard. She has some difficulty scaling the wall, but manages it after a few attempts. She plods up to a pair of matching gravestones. She places a rose on each grave and then sits on top of one of gravestones, rests the ice pack on her shoulder and pulls out the bottle she’d bought.
Miranda: “Come have a drink with me, Angel. [silence] I know you’ve been following me.”
Angel: [stepping out from the shadows] “That obvious, eh?”
Miranda: “Actually, you did pretty well until the cab ride—not easy to be stealthy in a big yellow car. I knew Joseph would ask and I knew you’d agree. Have a drink with me—Irish whiskey.”
Angel: “Wouldn’t think it would take four liquor stores to find Irish whiskey. [beat] No thanks—not much of a drinker.”
Miranda: [Ignoring him and pouring whiskey into three plastic cups] “It’s not just any whiskey. Take it, or Cal and I will be terribly offended.”
Angel: “Cal?”
Miranda: “Sorry. Forgot the introductions. Angel, meet my husband Cal [indicating the gravestone that she is sitting on] and my daughter, Isabella [Indicating the matching stone. She hands Angel a cup, which he accepts in rather stunned silence.] Right, the Whiskey. Had to find the right vintage. This one was put aside the year of our marriage—turned out OK, but most stores don’t carry it. [She lifts her glass] Cheers [She drinks hers down and pours the other on the ground in front of the gravestone she’s sitting on.] Oh, [explaining] Isabella never liked Whiskey.”
Angel: “Was it an accident?”
Miranda: “What?”
Angel: “The year of death is the same for both—were they together?”
Miranda: [pained pause]. “No” [She pours herself another drink] “Drink up” [Angel downs his and lets her pour him another] “This is the first time I’ve been back. [beat] I never even went to the funeral. [She laughs, shaking her head] Twenty years.”
Angel: “I thought you lived in Ireland.”
Miranda: “Hm. We did. Moved to the states when he got sick—better facilities here—better treatments. She was already here.”
Angel: “He would have been amazed at you tonight—it was quite a sight. I still can’t figure out how you managed it—when I left you earlier, you...” [She interrupts]
Miranda: “Borrowed energy. My technique, plus a few modifications I picked up from watching Buffy. [pause] He would have hated it.”
Angel: “I don’t understand.”
Miranda: “My husband was a good man. A religious man. He didn’t believe in violence.”
Angel: “Sure, but in this case, you were fighting against evil.”
Miranda: “I’m not sure that he actually comprehended evil—it was almost like he was so far removed from it that it wasn’t visible to him. Had he known it, he wouldn’t object to the destroying of it—he wasn’t a pacifist entirely. But that’s not why he would have hated to see it—he’d hate it because he would have been able to see that I liked it. [She takes another drink; she looks directly at Angel] I did.”
Angel: “You did what had to be done. Why does that matter?”
Miranda: “He would argue that while violence is sometimes necessary, it is also something that should never be enjoyed—it is simply a terrible means to an end. To enjoy it, or even to revel in one’s skill at it, is to let some part of the darkness in.”
Angel: “Maybe sometimes the darkness is already there.”
Miranda: “Yeah. [pause] He couldn’t quite understand what I was—how could he, neither did I. Neither DO I. He thought, perhaps, that it was my conceit—my pride in fighting—that was keeping me out of heaven. And before you think it, he told me this not to chastise me or judge me—he honestly wanted to help me; to save me. I had never met anyone so...pure...so true to himself. Whether or not I believed him was rather irrelevant—I was a better person when I was with him. [pause] He would have hated it.”
Angel: “You’re tired. No sense having these thoughts now. Lets head back.”
Miranda agrees. They leave.
Scene 7
Back at the hotel. Miranda is sitting down on a couch chowing down on a gigantic spinach salad, while Gunn is relating the tale of her fight to the rest of them. He was ridiculously impressed and is going on and on about it.
Miranda: [to no one in particular] “Do you think we can order some Chinese food, too?”
Cordelia: “I have never seen someone eat so much so fast.”
Miranda: “I did just kill, like, 20 demon-y things—gives a girl an appetite. And I’m still healing.”
Gunn: “Oh, there were at least 30 in there. Don’t you think? It was AMAZING. I’ve never seen anyone kick so much demon ass [to Angel]. No offence, man.”
Angel: “Twenty-six. I counted 26.”
Miranda: “There were 5 guarding the entrance when I got there. What about pizza? Anyone up for a pizza?”
Gunn: “Thirty-one—that is impressive. And the way you did that thing with the two swords—that was AWESOME. And then you flipped over that guy and went all ‘Bruce Lee’ on their asses. Damn. INSPIRING. [to Angel/Cordy/Wesley] So’s that what a Slayer looks like? ‘Cause I could seriously get behind that kind of girl power.”
Angel: “Something like that.”
Cordelia: “Yeah, but Buffy never really knew how to accessorize.”
Miranda: [casually, in between bites] “I’ve never seen Buffy take on that many. [She quickly looks up at them] Anyone makes the cat sound loses a limb. It was just an observation.”
Gunn: “So you’ve done that before, right? That’s not something you pick up on the fly.”
Miranda: “Um. Never demons—not with that kind of head count. That’s new.”
Gunn: “How’s it different?”
Miranda: “Kinda makes it easier, actually [to Angel]. No offense. Demons rely on their strength and frankly are not terribly bright or quick. Plus the vampires just disappear when you kill them, which means you don’t get the body pile-up—always having to watch your feet—like you do if you’re fighting people. [suddenly noticing the looks on everyone’s faces]. I mean, when your fighting humans, the goal is more to maim and incapacitate than to kill, so once they’re down, they can still trip you up, so you have to be careful. [more looks; tries to explain] We’re talking trained soldiers here—not random passersby.”
Cordelia: “Oh, like in a war, where ‘maiming’ is an appropriate goal and not so terrifyingly icky sounding like it is right now.”
Miranda: “Well, not exactly. Sort of—there were ‘sides’, as in people on opposites of. But maybe we should just let that drop for now. Back to tonight—demons are stronger and more ‘grabby’ when they’re standing up; something I wasn’t quite prepared for—hence the dislocated shoulder.”
Wesley: [admiring her bag of weapons] “Where did you get these? There are some rare and valuable pieces here. [holding up an usual looking item] I wouldn’t even know what to do with this one." [he passes it around to the crew]
Miranda: “I have to return those. They belong to another Immortal friend. I’ll give you his card—he has a shop in town. It’s not cheap.”
[Author's note: I’m getting really bored with this scene right now and so will just summarize. After more admiring words from Gunn, Miranda explains how she was able to ‘borrow’ energy from Joseph for the fight. She had called him and a few other Immortals to discuss the situation—although she agreed that this was her responsibility (none of this ever would have happened if she didn’t let Spike bite her), she was in no shape to fight the fight. Joseph was able to give her the energy she needed—like a mini-quickening. It was a small risk for him, but he was willing to do it given the circumstances.
At one point, Miranda pulls Cordelia aside and gives her money to replace the boots. She also gives her a check made out to Angel Investigations that she knows Angel himself wouldn’t accept—she and Cordy decide to keep it from him. As the night wears on, Miranda gets increasingly tired as the energy and adrenaline wear off even more—she’s back to being in a fair bit of pain. Every inch of her body hurts—plus she is emotionally drained/depressed/confused(?). Everyone leaves except Angel. They go upstairs. For some reason, I see them in what would be a typical double hotel room—two double beds next to each other, separated by a nightstand (now that I’ve watched more episodes of ‘Angel’, it seems they don’t really have those kind of rooms, but OH WELL). It’s his room—she’d indicated that she didn’t feel comfortable being alone. He didn’t argue. She’s sitting on her bed (on top of the covers) dressed in one of his button-down shirts and a pair of shorts she borrowed from Cordelia. He walks into the room and sits down at the foot of the other bed and starts taking his shoes off. He inhales deeply, as if he smells something.
Miranda: [noticing him sniffing; somewhat mortified] “Oh, God. Do I smell? I didn’t have the energy to shower. I forgot that vampires have such sensitive noses.”
Angel: [embarrassed] “No, no it’s fine. I thought maybe you were wearing perfume. It’s nice.”
Miranda: [confused look—she isn’t wearing perfume] “Maybe from the bubble-bath earlier.”
Angel: “There’s another blanket in the closet if you want it. I’m not a very good judge of temperature.”
Miranda: “Thanks. And thanks for letting me invade your room like this. I’m just not sure that I’d be able to fight tonight if anything were to happen—I feel safer here.”
Angel: [small smile] “I’m glad you’re here. [catching himself] I mean, glad that you feel safe. After what you’ve been through.”
Miranda: “Have another night-cap with me? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep just yet.”
Angel: “Maybe tea would be better.”
Miranda: “But whiskey’s a happy drink. I definitely think I need something a bit numbing.”
Angel: [acquiescing] “Maybe just one.”
She gives him a weak smile, finds the bottle and pours a couple of drinks. They each take a sip and sit in silence for a minute.
Miranda: “I know you’ve been dying to say it—I’m sure you’ve been thinking it. Just please don’t.”
Angel: “And what would that be?”
Miranda: “Something akin to ‘told you so’ or ‘that’s what you get when you play with fire’ or some other such nonsense. It’s not that simple.”
Angel: [mildly annoyed] “You think you know me—know what I’m about, but you don’t. [Pause. A bit whiney] I wasn’t going to SAY it.” [Implication is that he WAS thinking it]
Miranda: “I haven’t decided to leave him.”
Angel: “Now there’s a statement filled with decisiveness.”
Miranda: “Just so we’re clear. It’s complicated.”
Angel: [ever so slightly snarky] “Complicated. Gotcha.”
Miranda: “And if I decide to, it won’t be for the reason you think.”
Angel: “Okay. [pause] Listen, I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in your head and I’m not sure I’d want to if I did. And I know I wouldn’t understand what could be complicated about dating a guy like Spike. But if you say it’s complicated, then fine, it’s complicated. I think we both know that I’m not the one doing the judging here. It’s your call.”
Brief silence
Miranda: [a touch flippant/snarky] “So when did you start this ‘hero’ business thing of yours? Did you just wake up one day and decide to help?”
Angel: “Not quite that simple, but in a nutshell.”
Miranda: “But that is pretty much what you do, right? Run around doing the right thing—rescuing people—fighting the forces of evil with your super-human strength.”
Angel: “Uh, you could say that. I didn’t always.”
Miranda: “What did you do before?”
Angel: “A lot of terrible things—and a whole lot of nothing.”
Miranda: “And let me guess—one day someone pulled you out of the gutter, showed you the light and BAM, Mr. Professional Hero was born.”
Angel: “Actually...”
Miranda: “And there must have been a girl—there’s always a girl. [Seeing the expression on his face and realizing] Buffy. [softening] Sorry. I was pretty close, wasn’t I? I can be such a snot sometimes. I didn’t mean...[thinking about it] I don’t know what I meant. God, why can’t things ever just be simple? You think you’ve figured it all out—made your decisions and then you get side-swiped by an entirely new world.”
Angel: “It’s not that different—this world. There’s good and there’s bad and you just pick a side and do your best to figure out who is where—it’s usually pretty obvious and when it’s not, you go with your instincts.”
Miranda: “Now you sound like Buffy.”
Angel: “Buffy and I are on the same side. And I think you are, too, only you don’t see it yet.”
Miranda: “I envy Buffy sometimes. I do. Must be nice to see things so clearly—to actually be born with a purpose. But if you’re not, how do you get there? How do you make that decision to try to make a difference? I’m not convinced people actually ever get to that point alone.”
Angel: “You made a difference tonight.”
Miranda: “For purely selfish reasons.”
Angel: “Not purely selfish. It’s a start. You could do a lot—if you wanted.”
Miranda: [obviously intrigued by the idea—at least part of her. Then she shakes it off] “No. Not now. I see the world in shades of gray. I recognize the extremes, but I’m not ready to go there yet. I need more time to be selfish, so I’m quite happy to be Switzerland for the time being. Gray can be a very soothing color.”
Angel: “There’ll be a time when you will have to make a choice.”
Miranda: “Maybe. Not tonight.” [She finishes her drink and puts down the glass.]
Angel: “You did the right thing.”
Miranda: [She looks at him directly for the first time since they’ve been talking. After scanning his face for a while, she gives a small smile, reaches over to touch his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.] “Perhaps it’s time to try and get some sleep.”
She turns off the light and they both get under the covers in their separate beds. A few minutes of silence elapse.
Miranda: “You remind me of him, you know. Cal. Similar build, coloration, and...”
It’s obvious she thinks the similarities go beyond the physical, but she stops there. She finds the resemblance comforting, but it’s more than that. In his face, she sees a familiar sort of longing.
Angel: [Not really sure how to respond to that] “Good night” [She hears him inhale again and turn over on his side facing away from her.]
About an hour goes by—lots of tossing and turning. Certainly no sleeping. She gets up and walks to the bathroom to get a glass of water. On her way back to bed, she bangs her knee on something—a moment later the light comes on.
Angel: “Can’t sleep?”
Miranda: [shakes her head] “Maybe I should have taken another one of those pain pills—but I just hate that kind of sleep. It’s so artificial. I’m sorry, am I keeping you up?”
Angel: “No. Not having any luck myself with the sleeping.” [He is now sitting up against the headboard of his bed.]
Miranda: [sits down at the edge of his bed] “It’s like my entire body is buzzing; tying itself into knots. I’ve always had trouble sleeping after the Quickening.”
Angel: “What’s that?”
Miranda: [not wanting to explain the whole Immortal battle business] “Oh, just something similar to what Joseph and I did earlier with the energy exchange.”
She moves her legs up onto the bed and turns to face Angel. They stare at each other for a moment.
Angel: [a bit nervous] “Warm milk? I, uh, heard that helps with sleeping—getting to the sleeping.”
It’s obvious there is some sensual vibe going on here—Miranda’s countenance is entirely different from before.
Miranda: “So much pain these past days—everything so rough and harsh. Every touch, every thought, hurtful.”
Angel: “I’m sorry.” [It’s all he could think of to say. He looks at her face—now more up close than they’ve been since the morning.] “The cut on your cheek—it’s the same as it was this morning. The others have faded.” [He moves his hand as if to touch the scar. She pulls away slightly before he does, knowing it would hurt. He lets his hand fall slightly to beneath the cut and softly brushes her skin. She closes her eyes. He lets his hand stay there for a moment caressing her cheek and then abruptly pulls his hand away (thinking that this was inappropriate)] “Sorry, I...”
Miranda: “It’s ok. Sometimes a soft touch is all you need to forget the pain. [She picks up the glass of water on the beside table and takes a drink. She sets it down and turns back to Angel] Would you like to kiss me, Angel?”
Angel: “Why?”
Miranda: [amused by the question] “Because I’d quite like to be kissed and my instincts tell me you wouldn’t much mind.”
Angel: [This is Angel being as flirtatious as is possible for him in his usual broody way] “We’ve already kissed once. Maybe that was enough.”
Miranda: “But that was a dreadful, spiteful kiss. I think maybe we’re both in need of soft and sweet.”
Angel: “Maybe.”
He leans in for the kiss. Just before their lips touch, he whispers: “it wasn’t that dreadful”. They share a very soft and delicate kiss.
Miranda: “Better?”
He just nods and goes in for more. This kind of kissing goes on for a while—it’s so soft and gentle that it’s almost innocent. Like two teenagers kissing without any expectation of anything more. They stop for a moment. Angel runs his hand through her hair and leans in to smell it.
Miranda: “See? That’s all we needed. Maybe sleeping now...”
Angel: [not listening] “You smell so nice.”
Just as Miranda was thinking about pulling back, Angel leans in for another kiss—this time with a bit more passion. She seems a bit surprised at first, but quickly responds in kind. Things start to heat up—innocence is officially gone from what they’re doing as hands start to wander. After a few minutes of this, Angel basically pulls her around and lays her on her back (head on the pillow) as they continue to kiss. They both seem a bit taken aback by his forcefulness. He stops himself for a moment, just after he positions her on her back—he’s obviously overcome, and surprised at his actions.
Angel: “Sorry. Maybe we should s...”
Miranda: “It’s OK.”
Looking straight up at him, she reaches behind her neck and undoes the clasp of her cross necklace—just as she moves her arm to place it on the bedside table he practically lunges at her and the necklace falls on the floor. He opens her shirt and runs his hands over her breasts. He pulls back a second and looks at her. He kisses her breasts and the rest of her upper body greedily. She is inflamed by the intensity of his desire for her. He is so appreciative of every part of her body—like a virgin or a widower. She runs her hand over his bare chest and around to his back and downward. He is pushing himself against her body—she can feel that he’s ready. She moves her hands around to unbutton his trousers—he stops her.
Angel: “No. We can’t. [But then he moves in to kiss her and touch her again] It’s been so long. No—there’s some reason why we can’t—we shouldn’t.” [but he can’t stop himself from touching her]
Miranda: [not understanding] “It’s Ok. We NEED THIS. It’ll be OK.”
Angel: [mumbles] “Some reason...I can’t remember.”
She takes his hand and moves it under her shorts and between her legs so that he can feel her wetness. At this, he is completely overcome and quickly pulls off her shorts and pulls down his pants and pushes himself inside her with a moan. He stops for a moment to enjoy the sensation before he pulls back to thrust again. She wraps her legs around him as he continues to plunge into her. The look on his face is a combination of amazement and ecstasy. She can tell right away that this isn’t something he does—that he’s not the sort who would normally succumb to such base physical desires. She feels a twinge of guilt—she’d started it, though she hadn’t anticipated it going this far. But then his enjoyment—his freedom—is so infectious that she herself is overcome with it. The pain, the emotion of the past week fades away with his whimpers of pleasure as he enjoys her body. He kisses her when he can break away from the rhythm—the intensity of the moment. It feels so unbelievably good—he’d forgotten. And not just the physical—the friction of it, building to orgasm—it’s the freedom of letting go. The moment he’d entered her, everything else stopped—every worry, every concern—he’s lost in the freedom of it and he, for one, needs to be lost. So does she. They do nothing beyond the basics—they don’t change position, they don’t talk, they don’t pause for a breath. Just thrust thrust thrust thrust with an occasional whimper and groan. And yet she feels herself starting to come, just as he gets his hardest inside her. She wants him to come—she wants to make him feel that good—she instinctively wants to take away his pain, his longing. Thrust thrust thrust. He starts to pant unnecessarily—a low groan starts in the back of his throat. He can’t stop himself from thrusting harder, faster and deeper as he’s about to come. She digs her nails into his broad, muscular back as she bucks up into him and squeezes his cock tightly inside her as the waves of her orgasm flow down and over it. He wasn’t expecting this added stimulation and lets out a shocked gasp followed by a sharp whimper as his body takes over and releases everything into her. Everything. He collapses onto her. They’re both utterly spent and fall asleep almost instantly.
[Author's note: Just FYI—I wrote this before he had his one-nighter with Darla. And also, I am assuming that no one has articulated to Miranda the details of the gypsy curse.]
Scene 8
Angel’s room. Later that night (close to dawn). Miranda wakes up—she’s draped over Angel’s chest. An uncomfortable look crosses her face like “oh shit”. She manages to extricate herself without waking him up. She gets dressed quickly and is obviously trying to decide if she should leave a note—she feels almost desperate to get out of there. Finally, she decides to just leave one of her business cards from the shop on the table—she thinks about whether or not to write anything on the back. In the end, she can’t find a pen anywhere so just leaves the card and takes off. A couple hours later, Angel wakes up. At first, finding himself alone, he thinks/hopes that he may have dreamt it. BUT 1) he’s naked and 2) as he goes to get up, he burns his foot on her necklace, which had fallen to the floor. He suddenly looks pretty freaked out, but looks at the clock and thinks for a minute. “Ok, nothing feels different. It was just sex—not enough to...” He shakes his head and runs his hand over his face. He mumbles to himself “stupid”. He then notices the card on the table and picks it up. He frowns. Next thing we see is him fully dressed, coming down the stairs. He sees Cordy first. She’s drinking coffee and eating a donut (leftover from yesterday) at the front desk.
Cordelia: “You’re up early. Is Miranda still asleep?”
Angel: “She took off early this morning—don’t know when exactly.”
Cordelia: [disappointed] “Oh, really? I didn’t get to say goodbye. You know despite the whole handcuff incident, I LIKE her. And it has nothing to do with the fact that she gave me $500 for a pair of boots—it’s more because she knows what a decent pair of boots costs, you know?”
Angel: “Uh, she left her necklace—could you pack it up for me and have it sent up to her?”
Cordelia: [surprised] “She left her necklace? This same necklace that Spike brought down from Sunnydale—the one she never takes off? The one with the big honkin’ ruby? And she just forgot it.”
Angel: “I guess maybe we should send it registered mail, you think?” [He hands it to her]
Cordelia: [getting an idea] “Hey, did something happen between you two last night? I thought I detected a vibe.”
[Author's note: Keep in mind that this is back when C and A were honestly just friends and C would have been excited for Angel if he met someone he liked—absolutely no jealousy AT ALL.]
Angel: “A vibe? Really? [change of tone to serious] No. Nothing happened.”
Cordelia: “You so like her, don’t you?”
Angel: “Maybe we should insure it. You can do that with packages, right?”
Cordelia: “Or maybe you should call her and ask her how she’d like you to send it.”
Wesley: “Call who?”
Cordelia: “Miranda.”
Wesley: “Oh, did she get off alright? I never got that card from her—that weapons’ dealer friend of hers.”
Angel: “I think so—she left early this morning.”
Cordelia: “Maybe when you call her, you could get the address of the shop for Wesley.”
Wesley: “Why are you calling her again?”
Cordelia: “Because Miranda, according to Angel here, just inexplicably took off her cross necklace last night, after telling me yesterday that she never takes it off, for no apparent reason, most definitely not because she wanted to make out with a vampire and then she just left it here—and certainly NOT because she would want a certain vampire to call her or better yet to BRING IT to her.”
Wesley: [having no clue what she’s talking about] “What?”
Angel: “Maybe the clasp broke—or the chain and it just slipped off.”
Cordelia: [inspecting the necklace] “Nope—not broken.”
Wesley: “What’s this all about?”
Cordelia: “Angel likes Miranda. They hooked up.”
Angel: [frustrated] “Sometimes, Cordelia, you...We did not ‘hook up’. Just pack up the necklace.”
Wesley: [playing along] “Interesting. So you say she never takes it off? And there it was...”
Angel: “Don’t encourage her. Is there anymore coffee?”
Cordelia: “Why, didn’t get much sleep last night?” [now it’s just a joke]
Frighteningly stern look from Angel
Cordelia: “Ok, ok. Geez. Things have just been so serious around here lately—I’m just trying to lighten the mood a little. I think I’ve got a box somewhere.”
She starts looking for the box. A few minutes go by. Angel is drinking his coffee. Wes leaves the room for a minute. Cordy comes back in with a box and starts packing up the necklace. Angel looks a little sheepish and says:
Angel: “So you think I should call her?”
A huge grin spreads across Cordy’s face.
Cordelia: “You LIKE her.”
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Violently Happy