From: "Scott W.L. Daravanis" <swldaravanis@ameritech.net>
TITLE: Some other beginning’s end = 1/?
AUTHOR: Brianna Devlin (brianna@buffymail.com)
RATING: PG13 for this part, working up to an NC17 (consensual
sex, the
usual angst between those stake-crossed lovers Buffy & Angel).
SUMMARY: All episodes through The Zeppo, with references to
Amends &
The Zeppo. I hate being left in the dark, so here’s my
take on what
happened the night after the Scooby Gang minus Xander saved the
world,
again. Oh yeah, and what was with Buffy’s hair?
She looked like she’d
been attacked by a crimping iron.
DISCLAIMER: All BtVS characters were created by Joss Whedon
and his
minions. I own nothing of significance, so don’t sue
me or mine. You
won’t get a dime.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first fanfic. Ever.
Go easy on me. I
learned from the master, Bernadette. Scary, isn’t it?!
Did the curse
Willow translated from Jenny’s files exclude the happy
clause? Who
knows? In my insane world, anything could happen, and a lot
of things
can’t happen. Frustrated yet? Imagine being in
Angel’s shoes . . . or
helping him out of them . . . . =)
DISTRIBUTION: If you really want to, that’d be just
spiffy! Just let
me know beforehand.
DEDICATION: To Bernadette, that crazy wench and my bestest
bud, for
encouraging me to write something, anything before she dies.
Or at
least before they get fed up with her constant harassment, and
she
finally gets laid by Spike or Angelus. Or, Spike and
Angelus. Who
could ask for anything more, huh Bernadette? And to Saber
for her help
with the rating system. Gosh, I hate being an amateur!
FEEDBACK: Please encourage my writer’s ego. But
I warn you, be gentle
and don’t flame me. I don’t take kindly to
flaming. I might just have
to vamp out and kill you. I’m serious. Really.
I’m not the
kidding-vampire type. Let me know if I should continue.
Please,
pretty, pretty please.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It was another one of those nights where life and death hung
in the
balance on a very thin, blood-red line. Each person
involved was
immensely aware of the risks they were taking, but it was up to
them to
save the world. What other choice did they have?
None, and they each
knew it. No one was expecting what had emerged from the
pits of hell,
and how difficult a fight it would be. The protection spell
was a joke;
all of Giles’ and Willow’s intense preparation had been
in vain. As if
the blue-faced demonic smurfettes weren’t enough of a
challenge, the
first thing that decided to escape the hellmouth had attacked
Angel,
rendering him unconscious. When Buffy saw Angel thrown
against the
wall, she thought her life was over, certain he had been killed.
It was
at that moment she decided that should he still be alive, nothing
and no
one would ever come between them again. Especially some
incredibly
disgusting, multi-headed demon that would become worm fodder if
it took
her last breath.
And it nearly did. When it was over, the five weary
conquerors looked
at the mess before them. Each had different thoughts about
what to do
next. Giles, of course, was distressed about the berating
he would
certainly take from Snyder about more damage to the school.
Faith, as
usual, was horny and ready to pounce the nearest male.
Knowing
full-well that Buffy would seriously object to her jumping Angel’s
bones, Faith turned her gaze away from the lusty vampire to Giles.
Quickly changing her mind about THAT, she decided to hit one of
the bars
near her dingy motel room. Willow, her eyes still wide with
disbelief
at what had just happened, was worried about Oz. She also
couldn’t help
from wondering how soon Giles would be able to replace the
library
computer that was crushed by the demon as it emerged from the
hellmouth.
Buffy turned to Angel, frowning at the sight of his blood-stained
forehead and face, then pulled him to her, embracing him with all
her
might, thankful he was alive. Angel looked down at Buffy,
gave her a
brief kiss then whispered, "We need to leave."
Buffy nodded then turned
to Giles.
"What do we do about this mess?"
"Well," Giles said, surveying the damage.
"I suggest we take the, er,
beast, or rather its remains, to the incinerator and burn it.
As for
the rest, I don’t know."
"I’d like to check on Oz first to make sure he’s
okay," Willow
suggested.
Giles, still unable to remove his fixed gaze from the now-deceased
multi-headed demon, nodded to Willow. "Yes, yes.
We should make sure
he wasn’t injured during the incident this evening. Or
escaped for that
matter." Giles turned to Faith who was antsy to leave.
"Faith, why
don’t you go with Willow to check on Oz. Take the
rifle for protection,
just in case."
Faith found the rifle where Giles had stashed it in the
weapons cabinet,
grabbed a few sleeping darts, then headed toward the door,
motioning for
Willow to follow her. "Let’s go, Willow.
Maybe Ozzie will be awake and
we can practice our aim on him," she joked, but received a
glare from
Willow as they left the library.
Buffy turned to Giles, who had started clearing up some of the
broken
furniture. "Giles, I need to get Angel home.
This head wound could be
serious, you know."
Giles looked up, realizing that Angel had been seriously
wounded. "Yes,
of course, Buffy. Angel, thank you for your help tonight.
We couldn’t
have done this without you," he said, surprised by his own
sincerity.
"I was just helping like everyone else," Angel said soberly.
"Yes, well, that may be, but I firmly believe we could
not have
succeeded without your assistance. And for that, I believe
I speak for
everyone involved when I tell you we are grateful to have you
back on
our side." Giles gave a quick smile, then turned and
walked into his
office. "Just be sure to arrive sometime tomorrow,
Buffy, to help us
clean this mess," he yelled over his shoulder.
"Don’t worry, Giles," Buffy said, taking a last
look at the
newly-decorated library. "How could I ever forget to
assist in project
ickiness clean-up." She looked up at Angel, who was
clearly in pain,
and smiled. "Let’s get you home."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
By the time they arrived at the mansion, Buffy could tell that
Angel
needed to lie down, and soon. She remembered hearing
something about
keeping head-trauma patients awake through the night so that they
wouldn’t fall into a coma if they had a concussion.
‘Great,’ she
thought to herself. ‘We finally get a night to spend
alone and I have
to worry about him becoming coma-boy.’
When Buffy turned to walk Angel up the stairs to his room, he
stopped
and turned toward her, his eyes smoldering with desire.
Recognizing the
lust in his eyes, Buffy attempted to suade his desires with
reality.
"Angel, you need to rest," she said, trying to turn him
back to the
stairs.
He turned once more, placing his arms on her shoulders,
looking over her
features . "Buffy, I don’t want to rest.
There are too many things we
need to talk about."
Buffy sighed, tired and weary from the battle they had fought
earlier.
"Angel, you know I love you. But I’m tired, you’re
hurt, and the last
thing I want to do is discuss our situation *again*."
"Neither do I. I’m tired of talking, Buffy.
That’s all we ever do is,"
Angel looked around the room, frustrated, "talk."
He brushed past her,
walking back into the main hall. He stopped in front of the
fireplace,
placing on hand on the mantle, leaning against it for support.
He was
still dizzy from his head wound, but he was determined to end
this
evening the way he wanted to end it. "A lot has
happened since I came
back, Buffy. You’ve helped me to recover my strength,
my sanity, my
devotion to you, and earn back the trust of your friends."
Listening,
Buffy walked to the sofa behind Angel and sat on the edge.
Angel
continued without turning. "But there are a lot of
topics we’ve been
avoiding physically. And it’s getting to the point
that I’m not so sure
I can stop that easily this time."
Buffy’s eyes widened with curiosity. "Angel, what are you saying?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
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