There's a disruption of the blissful silence between them as the sound of the front door opening comes clearly through the partially closed door of her room. Damn it, if he'd only been thinking more clearly, he would have made sure to shut it. That would've bought at least two more minutes' time.

 

"Oh, God," Willow cringes, and struggles against him to sit up. She's looking frantically around. "My clothes...our clothes are in the bathroom. What are we going to do? You've got to get out of here."

 

"They're not ready for a son in law?"

 

His attempt at humor brings a horrified look to her face. "No way. They're not ready for their only daughter having sex, period, and especially not since she's picked a vampire for her partner. I think this constitutes a twenty on the parent Richter scale. I can't deal with this yet. We've got to get you out of here." She's already pushing at him.

 

Angel thinks that at that moment she might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The sweet taste of her manic fear hangs in the air between them, and he knows he can fix this for her, make it all better and bring that cherubic smile back to her face. He's going to do that from now on, fix whatever troubles her. No matter what it costs. He does love her, and he's going to get it right this time. She's his gift, the shot to be close to real, close to human, something other than he beast he sees himself as. "Make a distraction, I'll slip down the hall and get my stuff."

 

Willow scrambles off the bed, snagging the corner of the sheet and pulling it free of the mattress. Loosely wound around her hips and torso, it disappointingly covers her body from his view but makes him smile as he imagines rectifying that the next time they see each other. He has no such modesty, unfolds his body from her bed and stands in front of her. Unashamed. She looks wide-eyed for a moment, like she's forgotten the urgency of the situation, until he gives a light shove against her lower back. "Go on now."

 

"What am I going to do?" She wails softly, looking distractedly over her shoulder at the door, and then back to him.

 

With a hand on her hip, he comes in close, open mouth kiss for exactly five seconds, and looks into her eyes trying to impart some of his own calm. "I have faith that you'll think of something."

 

And she does seem to stabilize her upset. Spine straightens, takes a deep breath, and turns to swing the door open as she marches through it. Yeah, she'll think of something...she's very resourceful.

 

They make it to the bathroom, when Sheila's voice drifts up the stairs. "Willow, Dad and I are home."

 

"Um...someone called for Dad. I think it was one of his students. I wrote the name down." There's some reply, mumbled as her mother moves into the kitchen to search for the alleged message.

 

Angel's already zipping up by this time, leaning down to retrieve his shirt. Willow's got his boots in her hand, holding out socks in the other. "You'll have to go out my window. I'm sure that's not a problem. Right?"

 

Angel manages to hop on one foot, sliding a sock over his toes as he follows Willow back down the hall to her bedroom. "Nah, that's fast becoming my preferred method." When he's got the socks on, they're halfway across her room. She hands him his right boot with a hasty shove, and the minute she feels him take it, starts unlocking her window.

 

"Wow, if I were more sensitive, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me."

 

"Willow, honey. Where did you write the name down?" Ira Rosenberg this time, voice coming faintly from the front foyer.

 

The redhead hoists the window up, spins around, and sticks her head out into the hallway. She answers with an impressive bellow, "On the same paper as your note." Turns around and tosses his remaining footwear to him. "Okay, I threw that note away, so that'll give us a minute."

 

As he's lacing his boot, he asks, "Was there really a call, or did you make that up?"

 

"Made it up."

 

He throws one leg over the windowsill, and pauses. "You're very devious."

 

"I'm learning." She rushes over and stops when she reaches him, still not quite able to break that insecure barrier. Stands nervously, with restless legs. "I'll take the 'you've got to be more responsible with phone messages' lecture over the 'oh my God you've had sex in your bedroom...all girls boarding school for you' lecture right now."

 

"How about the 'object of lustful vampire thoughts' lecture?" Angel moves close to kiss her again, keeping one leg still outside the window, even though he has to slide until only his ankle is hooked. Prays that he doesn't fall on his face, unless he lands on top of her, which might be okay.

 

"I'll have to study more for that one..." She returns his kiss. "...uhhhh, later," she adds reluctantly, remembering again the objective of getting him *OUT* of her bedroom. "I'm going to say this now, because I know you'll be gone in a second, and we won't have to deal with it exactly this instant. Kind of a chicken's way out before I lose my nerve, but I love you Angel."

 

He can hear Ira Rosenberg in the hallway. "Willow, I can't find..." And she's already turned around to intercept her father.

 

"I love you too, Willow," he says softly to her retreating back.  He stretches his foot behind him, testing for the foothold of the branch he knows is there, and there's that momentary annoyance of wondering where the hell it went, when sharp energy starts jumping in every nerve ending of his body. Like a current of static that brings miniscule shards of hissing current racing along the surface of his skin just before his vision dims, and he feels himself falling. The impact of his body on the concrete jars him, and he can't move for a few seconds.

 

Stretch. He can feel the demon uncurling from its slumber, and the overpowering need for blood. Needs to burn the humanity polluting his true nature, to lock that weak soul back in the filthy cage it's kept him locked in for over a century.  Demon almost, * almost* disappointed when soul flees, leaving him alone to his own devices.

 

He hears a whistle.

 

Whistle.

 

Distracted by the tremor of a larynx acting as an echo chamber for a jaunty tune. Ears perk up, and head follows the sound, relying on senses other than sight to find the precious blood.

 

The smell is strong, and the hollow thud of a heart reverberating in a chest cavity is so very captivating.

 

Kill.

 

Drink.

 

Want.

 

Take.

 

Have.

 

Opportunity is present, so very close, so desperately, achingly close.  After all the decades of being suppressed, the opportunity is once again his.

 

Rude to snub its call.

 

Healthy blood.

 

Strong heart.

 

Unbelievably sweet.

 

Yes, rude not to answer its call.

 

The melody of humanity must be smothered.

 

 

************************

 

 

 

 

This evening he's done his homework with Will, and now he's walking the graveyards of Sunnydale, whistling a merry tune. Not so much different from home.

 

There's not exactly a bulls eye on his chest. He doesn't feel so bad, somewhat cocky, sure that he can handle himself if it comes down to it. Must be that chirpy optimism that Wesley accused him of yesterday. That, and years of denial.

 

Wow, all he ever needed to learn, he *really* did learn in kindergarten. Well, kindergarten on a Hellmouth, so that might not count. Might give him an unfair advantage over everyone from

Godthistownisboring,oopsi'veslippedintoacoma Missouri. And if his life's obstacles don't kill him, they'll just put him six feet under ground so he can claw his way out of a coffin and become the living dead, wreak a little havoc on everyone he's ever known. So, yeah. These worlds aren't so different after all.

 

Slight wrinkle in this timeline though. He's on his way to meet Faith. His girlfriend...Faith. And that itself is a mind-tangling sentence that defies all logic, and hasn't quite slid towards acceptance yet. Coming close. He did have a * thing* for her before. Something he never wanted to admit as anything but overwhelming lust. Thank God he senses something following him, because *that's* something he can react to.

 

"Whoever it is, I have a pointy stick, and I know how to use it." And if it's Faith meeting him, still not a lie.

 

"I seriously doubt that."

 

Ah, Angel. Stifle those lusty Faith thoughts, cause...scary homoerotic place Xander doesn't want to explore. He's not *that* secure. "Doubtful of my masculinity, Deadboy? Yours is the one in question."

 

"Why would you say that?" Arms crossed over Angel's chest, hem of the leather coat swinging as he settles back against the stone wall of a family crypt. Angel's casual attitude suggests this could take a while.

 

Terrific. Xander would just love to stand here all night trading the love with Angel, who says dreams don't come true?

 

Is this going to be a contest of who has the biggest dick? Because that will be special, and this time he might just say everything he's bitten back in his own world. Wouldn't he love to prove that the broody superhero doesn't always get the girl? "You know, the whole eunuch thing....that you don't know anything about..." Maybe not such a smooth comeback now that he's heard it out loud.

 

A look denoting Xander as some three-armed circus geek, gnawing the head off waterfowl in straw lined crate. "Eunuch? Your mouth gets away from itself, doesn't it, Xander?" His expression switches to one of studied indifference, as the vampire takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, taps them down and slides one out. Quick flick of a lighter and the cherry tip winks just beyond (in Xander's opinion, pasty) fingers.

 

"Accepted that endorsement gi...gig for the tobacco industry?" It's a nervous stutter as the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and an 'oh shit' warning starts knocking on the boarded up Angelus door in his brain.

 

Proving the theory of vampire preternatural speed, he has Xander by the throat, palm resting over the Adam's apple, and fingers starting to close around the circumference of the bony column. "Talking about things you don't know anything about..."

 

Very bad. "Oh fuck. You wouldn't be coming from a naughty liaison, would you?"

 

One brutal shove, the vampire's elbow extends, locking as he lets go of the human, and Xander goes flying over a low gravestone, grunting as the air is knocked out of him." You want details, or you want a demonstration?"

 

Xander rolls over on his stomach and decides that nothings broken, doesn't bother to look and see if his pride is laying anywhere around. There's no time for that now. One formerly fuzzy vampire, minus a soul, equals big fucked up time for everyone. And if Angel's all evil dead now, that could only mean..."Did you hurt her?? I will stake you where you stand." Reaches around for the stake that's in his back pocket, cause *that* wasn't a lie.

 

Angelus saunters slowly, carefully lining heel to toe as he walks a perfect line past the marker between he and Xander. Arms out to his side, he waves them in an exaggerated mockery of someone trying to keep their balance, never taking his eyes off the human who now squats in a ready position. "Did you hurt her? Did you hurt her? Why do they always ask that? What do

you think I did? I asked her opinion about the inevitable decline of a society based on a capitalist economy structure. Then we had tea...it was lovely. Really."

 

The last time this happened, Xander had Buffy to back him up, and he doesn't have time for an extended walk down that memory lane of grief and regret. Oh hell, where was a demon portal when you needed one?

 

He hopes to hell Faith gets here, because the prospect of Xander being the world's protection against the Scourge of Europe, he realizes suddenly, probably isn't a real workable plan.

 

"Find your dick yet Harris? If you need a few more minutes to look, I got time."

 

Shifting his weight, Xander repositions the stake in his fist. Faith had said twelve forty five. That had to be what...five minutes? He could stall for five minutes. Didn't predators like to play with their prey before they ate it? Gave them a sense of having earned it. "Don't worry about it, I'm good to go."

 

Angel stands entirely still. "Lost mine for a while, but Willow helped me look. She really didn't have a problem finding it; maybe she could give you a hand?" He aims a kick at Xander's left thigh, and seems surprised, slightly disappointed, when his target moves quickly back. "Although maybe not. She seemed like a one-man kind of girl. Oh well, practice and all that."

 

"I'll kill you, you fucking bastard."

 

The next second, he's flat on his back, knowing that he's not going to make it. He's come all this way with such good intentions to make this chance, or opportunity, or whatever the hell it is count. And he's gonna end up another blood bag on the vampire snack cart.

 

"Oh, there will be killing, but I'll be the one doing it." The vampire clutches a fistful of Xander's hair and slams his head against the ground once, disorienting him slightly.

 

As his surroundings start to spin, Xander tries to focus. No crapping out now, gotta stay awake for Faith. Fights a wave of nausea, and closes his eyes. That's so much better with out the spinning. "There's no way I'm going to let you hurt Willow."

 

"You're not going to let me? Yeah, I see your diabolical plan involves a brain hemorrhage and a lot of helpless immobilization. Brilliant, I never saw that coming. Give it up Harris, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, you little shit."

 

"Is she still alive?" He's gotta know.

 

"Alive? What is living really? Quality? Quantity? There are good arguments for both sides. I've always thought the key is loving what you're doing. Carpe diem. You know, young at heart and all that shit. " He starts snuffling at Xander's throat like an enthusiastic dog, stops to occasionally bite down, just enough to bury the point of a fang an inch or so into Xander's neck. He withdraws, and lets out a soft, bark against skin. "You know...she tasted so sweet, like ambrosia and honey."

 

"You boys going at it, and you forgot to send me the orgy memo?"

 

Xander opens his eyes, sees Angel look up, and follows to see Faith standing just beyond the mound of the grave they're laying on. "Slayer. Just the slut I was looking for," Angelus says with obvious amusement.

 

"And you confused Xander for me? Wow, vampires really aren't very smart."

 

"Ah, but we look really good in leather." He gives her a sympathetic glance and adds in a loud stage whisper. "You know, those pants aren't very flattering. They make your ass look enormous."

 

She flips a stake in the air, end over end. It does three complete turns before she catches it, blunt end in palm, pointy side facing her target. "Are you practicing some kind of monologue for the vamp talent-show, because words are coming out of your mouth that I doubt *your* brain thought up."

 

And once again, Xander finds himself relegated to warning man. "He's bad, Faith, watch out."

 

"Bad? Like, Michael Jackson bad? Or like straight out of the Hellmouth bad?"

 

"Suck your heart out through your neck bad," Xander says, making an effort to push the vampire off of him, with no success.

 

"Angel? With his James Vanderbeek forehead? Come on. Maybe he's drunk. You been hitting the sauce there kid?" She takes a tentative step forward, keeping a watchful eye on the pair in front of her.

 

Xander feels the weight crushing him shift, but before he can shout out a word of warning, Angelus is gone, and on Faith before she knows what hit her. She might have had a chance, *before* Xander hears the snap of her stake hand.

 

No time to decide whether to get help or jump in. It's balls in hand, well, stake anyway, and he uses the tombstone to pull himself up. Pushes off and stumbles his way over to protect his girlfriend. Maybe if he wasn't so dizzy, he would have noticed her body flying towards him, and not been knocked to the ground as she slams into him.

 

He's on his back again, scoots over to check and see if she's alive. Her chest's rising, so he breathes a sigh of relief before Angelus' boot smashes into his gut and sends him into a coughing spasm. Forehead to ground, he's heaving so hard, maybe his intestines will plop out in one neat lump. He can see the vampire grab Faith by the hair twist her head sharply and drain her. And he can't even move, can't stop the shuddering, and can't get past the shock and loss, and the fact that he's next.

 

Maybe a world where your girlfriend cheats on you isn't so bad?

 

Fire originates from where Angelus' teeth rip into his neck. Hot and sharp and warm as his blood starts to flow.

 

If Willow's not dead yet, she soon will be. Everyone will, and he didn't get a chance to warn them about what would have happened. Not that anyone would have believed him. But he should have tried. Goddamn, he should have tried harder, but he thought there would be more time. Now every one of them would die, and it was his fault. He hopes Angelus kills her fast. Just drinks, nothing else, and he can see her body, broken, bruised, covered in her own blood and other things he wants to blank out. Shit, he really thought he'd have a chance here.  A chance to reinvent his world.

 

And wouldn't you fucking know it... Angelus is the one that gets him.

 

He feels his heart struggling to pump against the loss of volume. Fluttering, speeding up and skipping a beat in an erratic attempt to keep going. Finally it gives up and he feels so light.

 

Really very...light.

 

************************

 

 

 

He never remembers grass being this soft before. Maybe he's lying on a cloud, strumming a ukulele? No wait, it's supposed to be a harp isn't it? He's a fat little cherub in heaven, reclining on a fluffy cloud and strumming a harp.

 

Then why is he naked? Were angels supposed to be naked? Racks his brain, and can't come up with the answer to that one. Fuck, why didn't he pay more attention the two times he actually went to Sunday school?

 

Try to remember the picture bible they'd had there...was anyone naked in it? Yeah, like they're going to show that to a bunch of fifth graders. It's our New, New Testament. All nude, all the time. Except for a chimp who's dressed like a wiseman. 'Cause monkeys in clothes, that's funny shit.

 

Extreme blood loss is supposed to make you all confused isn't it?

 

"Xander honey. It's noon. Are you going to stay in bed all day?" Buffy's voice comes drifting from beyond his eyelids.

 

So, he's laying here...naked...and Buffy's telling him to get out of bed?

 

Oh yeah, very confused. 

 

He knows he's alive, because he jumps and feels his heartbeat pick up when he wonders if Buffy's naked too. "I'm...um...getting up right now?" Little Xander puts a spin of truth on those words, and he grapples to make sure that the sheet is still covering him, tented appropriately. Because if the vampire bite didn't kill him, then the embarrassment will.

 

He opens one eye, and Buffy's standing at the foot of the bed. Not his bed, not hers. He's seen hers, dreamed about hers. This is neither of those. In fact, he's never seen this room before in his life.

 

But Buffy's standing there, in her underwear. His brain has to repeat that twice, since it's suffering from hysterical deafness. Buffy is standing at the foot of the bed in her underwear. There. It's not any more believable the second time around.

 

She's wearing a cute turquoise bra and thong panties. Her skin's damp, like she's just gotten out of the shower, and since she's holding an armload of wet terrycloth, that's a pretty safe bet. And did he just describe Buffy stepping from the pages of a Victoria's Secret catalogue as cute? Maybe some of his brain leaked out when Angelus was sucking him dry? 'Cause he meant to say...hot. Unbelievably, morning wood HOT.

 

Obviously, it's another alternative universe. So who is going to kill him here?

 

And if this Buffy doesn't mind him seeing her in her underwear, who cares? Buffy drops her burden in a clothes hamper, turns back to the bed, and says with mock sternness, "Do I have to come in there after you?" At his wide-eyed expression, she swings in next to him, kisses him and he can taste cinnamon mouthwash.

 

Ah, so it's a heart attack that gets him here? Okay, he can live with that.

 

END

 

 

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