Occupational Hazards (page 1) By Kuzibah

Disclaimer: All characters and Situations relating to �Buffy the Vampire Slayer� and �Angel� are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Greenwolf Productions, the WB, and (apparently) evil Fox. The author has received no monetary or material recompense for her efforts. However, she does accept lavish praise and constructive criticism (whatever that is). Author�s Notes and WARNINGS- PLEASE READ: This story contains adult language and themes. If you are under 17, an immature adult, or addled by hormones, don�t say I didn�t warn you. This story takes place mid-season four, and is in fact up to the minute with all episodes aired in the U.S. and Canada so far. It contains MAJOR spoilers for anyone who hasn�t seen up to episode 10 of the �Angel� series (�Parting Gifts�), so if you haven�t and don�t want to be spoiled, print it out and hide it under the bed until after the show airs. Also, characters from some of my previous works, specifically �N.I.N.A.,� �Warning! This Is a Dark Ride!� and �The Hydrogen Jukebox� make return appearances here. Archive- Sure, but email me and let me know where it�s going. Feedback- Absolutely. ******************* Part 1- Madame Amalthea, Psychic Advisor: Cordelia sat with the yellow legal pad propped on one knee, carefully taking notes while Angel questioned the young woman on the other side of the desk . The woman was a walk-in customer who said she had heard from friends that Angel was efficient, discreet, and didn�t even blink when the phrases �unknown forces,� �mysterious power,� and �supernatural entity� were mentioned. She was very nervous, and kept staring at Angel with a pleading, desperate look in her eyes, while she twisted the strap of her handbag in her fingers. �I know this sounds crazy,� she said for the fifth time, and Cordelia tapped her pen impatiently. Angel shot his employee an annoyed glance. �What do you know about this entity,� he asked the woman, whose name was Arlene Silver, but was known �professionally� as Madame Amalthea, a fortune-teller from Marina Del Rey. �I know it�s killed three other psychic advisors,� Arlene said, and Cordelia rolled her eyes. �Killed 3 swamis,� she wrote on the pad. �Have the crimes been reported to the police?� Arlene sighed heavily. �They�re not taking it very seriously,� she said. �There aren�t any bodies, or even evidence of foul play. And those in my line of work tend to be� transient, the police are calling it.� Angel nodded. �What makes you so sure they�ve been murdered, then,� he said. �They left things behind,� Arlene said, �personal things, and items used in our work. They would never have left these things. And when I go to their rooms, there�s this overwhelming sense of evil.� She lowered her eyes. �I know you probably think I�m a fake,� she said, �and I don�t have the gift some people have. But you can�t walk the roads I�ve walked and not know evil when you come up against it. Real, pure evil, not of this plane of existence. And it�s targeting seers. I know it is.� Angel glanced at Cordelia again. She had stopped rolling her eyes. Part 2- In the Huddle �I don�t see why I couldn�t be present while you questioned the witness,� Wesley said testily as he, Angel, and Cordelia sat in Angel�s kitchen drinking tea. Cordelia had Xeroxed the notes from her legal pad, and all three now held a copy. �She�s not a witness,� Angel said, �she�s a client, and she�s scared. The last thing she needed was some officious Brit badgering her.� Wesley drew himself up in his chair. �I wouldn�t say I was �officious,�� he said. Angel raised an eyebrow at him, and Wesley turned his head away. �I withdraw the objection,� he muttered. He looked down at the copy in his hand. �Killed three swans?� he said. �That�s swamis,� Cordelia said. �Fortune-tellers,� Angel corrected. �Any ideas.� �Plenty,� Wesley said. �There are demons that might wish to absorb their abilities, or use their eyes, as we know. There are also precognitive demons that might feel in competition.� �And even though she sensed a supernatural presence,� Angel said, �we can�t discount that we may be dealing with a human serial killer who is targeting psychics for his own purposes, possibly a religious fanatic.� �Or maybe,� Cordelia said, �he wants to find out about the future and he kills anyone who gives him the wrong predictions.� Wesley and Angel turned to her, surprised. �That�s very astute, Cordelia,� Wesley said admiringly. �Saw that on the X-files,� Cordelia said. Angel smiled. �Nevertheless,� he said, �It is a possibility. Wesley, maybe you should research demons that have some connection with forecasting the future, and Cordelia and I could do a search for murders of psychics in�� Suddenly Cordelia�s body pitched forward and she threw her arms across the table. Her forehead hit and she grunted with pain. Angel and Wesley jumped to their feet and went to her, helping her back into a sitting position. �Are you all right?� Wesley asked. �What did you see?� Angel said. She turned to Angel, her eyes white with fear. �It�s that woman, Arlene,� she said. �It�s killing her. Right now. Whatever it is, it�s killing her!� Part 3- The Connoisseur Angel only stopped long enough to check on the address Arlene had given them and twenty minutes later was pulling up outside her apartment house. He took the stairs to her third floor walk-up two at a time and kicked the door in. He slid to a halt in her front room and his heart sank. His entrance was all the proof he needed that she was already dead. He froze, listening intently to the darkness and sniffing deeply, trying to sense her. There was the faintest scent of blood in the room to his right, and he went to the door, cautiously. He pressed his ear to the wood and listened. There was the soft sound of liquid dripping slowly. He crouched down and pushed open the door. The darkness within was as black as the inside of a grave, as Angel knew from experience, and the air was thick and stale. The light from the doorway fell on the floor, and Angel saw drops of blood rolling over the carpet, seemingly unaffected by gravity or friction. Beyond the edge of the light he heard them drip as though rising into the darkness. Then there was nothing, all scent of the blood was gone. The darkness in the room seemed to expand, swallowing the light, and the shadows reached out long fingers that touched Angel�s foot and knee where he crouched. Angel leapt back; the shadows were burning cold, like dry ice. �What�s there,� he called out to the darkness. He heard a whisper as the shadows hissed past him. �Sweet, steeped in terror,� it said, and the air in the apartment seemed to return to normal. The staleness dispersed, and the light from the parking lot illuminated the rooms. But the unmistakable aura of evil persisted, and Angel knew exactly what the fortune-teller had meant. Part 4- Malachy Angel exited into the hallway, deeply disturbed. Yes, there were supernatural forces at work, that was clear, but he had precious few clues to go on, even after seeing the thing for himself. And it had taken every trace of his client, every last drop of her blood. His late client, he corrected himself. And who knew how many others were in imminent danger. �Don�t move,� a voice said from the darkness in the hall behind him. Angel looked over his shoulder to see a tall, dark man silhouetted in the dim red light from the exit sign. He had a shotgun raised to his shoulder. �I didn�t kill her,� Angel said. �I know,� the man said, and Angel detected a soft Irish lilt, �but you are a closed book to me, so I�ll keep you in my sights, if it�s all the same.� �If you know enough about me to know I didn�t kill her,� Angel said, �you also know that gun won�t kill me.� �But it could leave you crippled and mutilated, sure enough,� the man countered, �so let�s cut the pleasantries, Angel. You�ll be coming with me. My employer has need of your services.� Angel narrowed his eyes at the man. �You have me at a disadvantage,� he said levelly. �Call me Malachy.� �And your employer?� �Enough,� Malachy barked. �You�ll meet her soon, but until she says you�re to be trusted, I�ll be keeping the barrel of a gun between us. Let�s go.� Part 5- Sanctuary, California. Pop.- unknown. They drove southeast, into the desert. Though Angel questioned Malachy almost non-stop, trying to find out his purpose and his plan, the man was single-minded in his refusal to answer anything, at last saying that soon all would be revealed, and then speaking no more. Finally, far from any town, they came to a junkyard, stacked high with half-crushed cars. �Go on in,� Malachy told Angel, and the vampire eased his vehicle down the narrow aisle between the stacks. Behind them, invisible from the road, was a small circle of trailers, some brightly painted, though all in disrepair. Lights still flickered inside a few, and in the darkness, Angel saw a few people moving about, both inside and out. No, he realized, not all entirely people. Some moved strangely, as though they had extra joints or limbs. Were they demons, he wondered. What was this place? �That one there,� Malachy pointed, �the blue one.� Angel parked in front of a trailer that was painted a vibrant and electric shade of blue. Even under only starlight, it seemed to vibrate with the intensity of the color, though the structure itself was a dilapidated hulk, buttressed all around with planks and stones painted the same bright blue. A thin, dark woman in robes the color of clay stood outside the door. Angel felt the steel of Malachy�s gun cold against the skin behind his ear. �Get out,� the man said. Angel complied, and Malachy climbed out beside him. �Tell her I�ve brought him,� he said to the woman, who nodded and slipped through thick curtains into the trailer. �Don�t say anything,� Malachy hissed when she was gone. �If she is able to see you, you will go inside with all speed and humility. I trust she can protect herself against you more than well enough, but if you are disrespectful�� At that moment the woman in the robes exited again. �You may enter,� she said. Part 6- Swarms of Protectors �Right through the curtain,� Malachy said, and Angel felt the shotgun shifting in the man�s grasp. �Not you, Malachy,� the robed woman said. �I brought him here,� Malachy said through gritted teeth. �You know she is aware of that,� the woman answered. �She knows exactly what she is doing, or do you doubt even yet.� Malachy said nothing for a long moment, then murmured, �I�ll be right here, if you�re planning anything funny.� Angel didn�t reply, but pushed through the curtains and into the darkness beyond. It was humid within, and the air was heavily scented with incense. Dimly, he saw a blue light, like a window, with a figure silhouetted before it. It seemed far off, farther than it could have been in the small trailer, and the floor seemed shifting and unsteady beneath his feet. Normally Angel had no trouble seeing in the dark, but the air inside seemed to obscure his vision, and things, things which seemed as much wind as substance, brushed against his body. He moved towards the blue light, drawn to it. Around him the things grew both bolder and more substantial, pushing and poking him, and finally pinching and pricking his flesh. He brushed at them ineffectively, and at last stopped walking, unable to go on through them. He crouched down, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. �Who are you?� he called out to the figure, �What do you want?� �Approach me,� the figure said, her voice calm and commanding. �What are these things?� Angel answered. �They�re keeping me back.� �They cannot make out what you are,� the mysterious woman said. �Can you call them off?� In response the figure rose and walked towards him. She was tall, and wore robes so fine they floated in the air around her, like gossamer. Angel felt the things move away from him, and she was standing over him. He looked up at her. Her hair was long, past her waist, and as white as fresh snow. Her face seemed to be that of an older woman, but it was as smooth and unlined as a girl�s. She reached out a hand and drew him up. Her eyes were level with his own. �I apologize for the way you have been treated,� she said, �but there was no help for it.� She led him towards the light. �Come, child, and sit with me, that we may learn from one another.� Part 7- An Audience She was seated in a chair, like a throne, that seemed to be carved of one enormous chalky, white rock, and Angel was on the steps at her feet. There are powerful forces at work here, he thought, and to resist at this point would be foolishness. "Who are you?" he asked. "I have many names," she said, "but you may call me Cassandra." "Why am I here?" "I need your help," she answered. "There is an enemy I cannot defeat alone." "The thing that killed Arlene," Angel said. "Yes." "What is it," Angel said. "Is it a demon?" "Of a kind," Cassandra said. "It promised power and pleasure to those who released it, but they learned too late that their understanding and its understanding of these concepts were so widely disparate as to bear no resemblance to one another. They were naive, at best." "So Arlene brought it on herself?" Angel asked. "Yes," Cassandra said. "She didn't tell me." "She would not," Cassandra said, "having gone through all the complications they did to break its chains, she and the others did not believe it was possible that that which was released could not then be controlled. Boredom and hubris drove them to walk roads they thought they could step off at any time." "Are they dead?" Angel asked softly. "To the earth they are dead... but you know that is meaningless, child." "Not to be unfeeling," Angel said, "but what concern of this is yours? Or mine?" "My concerns are my own," Cassandra said. "As for you, certain attributes of yours may be uniquely suited to the task, which is why I have enlisted you." "So I can't refuse?" In response the woman smiled enigmatically. "You may do as you wish," she said, "but as the most powerful seer in all the world, I would strongly advise against it." Part 8- The Plan Malachy and Angel knelt facing Cassandra. Malachy had armed himself with side-pistols and a long knife in his boot in addition to the shotgun. �To send you to do battle without preparing you would be a crime,� Cassandra told Angel. �Of those who have touched the creature and lived, only Malachy has not gone mad. But he learned early to close his mind, to protect it. It is an ability you have within you by your nature. As you know.� She turned to the gunman. �Tell him what it did to you, Malachy.� �It�� Malachy faltered, then began again. �It tried to touch the deepest parts of my mind. To find my greatest shame, and give me the punishment I thought I deserved.� He gritted his teeth, and trembled with long-remembered anger. �And it made me grateful for it. For that moment, when I was tortured by its exquisite agonies� I loved it.� Angel stared at the two, his face open with horror. �How can I help you,� he said at last. �You know what I am. You know what I�ve done.� �But you have been to Hell,� Cassandra said. �Your one love betrayed you�� �She didn�t betray�� Angel growled. ��and yet you returned from the place she had sent you,� Cassandra went on, �after a hundred years of torment, with her name upon your lips.� �Don�t speak of her like that,� Angel said fiercely. Cassandra shook her head slowly. �Do you not see what a remarkable creature you are,� she said. �No, I don�t,� Angel shot back. �She did what she had to do. Now stop telling me things I know, and stop flattering me. Tell me how to fight this thing, since I have no choice.� �You must let it take you,� Cassandra said. �Let it explore you, play with you. Keep it fascinated until Malachy can bind it once again.� �You�re crazy!� As quickly as the words had left Angel�s lips, Cassandra had leapt at him, grasping his head in her hands. Angel half rose, arching his back to throw her off, and then he was somewhere else entirely. Part 9- Iris Flower and Deep Snow You kneel beside the door in the Kane teahouse and slide it open, your eyes lowered respectfully. Beside you, your "little sister," Miyuki, holds a tray with cups and wine and heated sake. You wait until a soft, masculine voice from within bids you enter, and then you raise your eyes. You try not to let the surprise you feel show on your face. You had expected two of your regulars, wealthy Kyoto merchants or businessmen. Instead there are two strangers lounging on the cushions in the room. One has the noble bearing of a military officer, were it not for his hair, which is loose and undressed and hangs nearly to his waist. The other is a westerner, European or perhaps American. He is staring at you and Miyuki, appraising you frankly with his eyes. You are disturbed, but try to push it off on his western ways. Miyuki places the tray on the table and you both bow respectfully. The Japanese man inclines his head in return, but the westerner only smirks. "Good evening, honored guests," Miyuki says, "I am Miyuki. May I present my older sister, Ayame-san." The Japanese man inclines his head again. "I am Hisano," he says, "and this is my friend, Angelus-san." It is a strange name, and you hope you will be able to avoid having to try to pronounce it. You and Miyuki bow again. "Would you both like some wine or sake, Hisano-san," Miyuki offers. Hisano turns to his companion and speaks to him in a language you don't understand. They exchange a few sentences before Hisano speaks to Miyuki. "I would like some sake, yes, and Angelus-san would like some wine," he says, "and then Angelus-san is very interested in seeing a traditional dance. Would you be so kind to oblige?" You are relieved. You are well known for your dancing skill, and Miyuki has a lovely singing voice to accompany you. You both agree and Miyuki pours the sake while you fill a much larger cup with wine for the westerner. Hisano sips his delicately, but the other bolts his back in one mouthful and extends his cup for more. You pour, then ask Hisano if he has a favorite song. He smiles strangely, and asks for a song that celebrates the moon and the darkness. You and Miyuki exchange glances and she suggests a song to you. You nod and rise, and she begins to sing. You move gracefully, you know you are creating a beautiful picture, and are glad you wore a kimono that was blue-grey, like moonlight. You move close to Hisano and his companion, and turn slowly between them. Suddenly the westerner's hand darts out, grabbing the end of your sleeve. He pulls, and you lose your balance and fall into his arms. He smiles wickedly, and says something to you in his own language. You are frightened, and try to push away, but he only winds his large hands around you, drawing you close. "Please, gentlemen," Miyuki is saying, "this is not proper. I will have to call for help." Hisano speaks sharply to his friend, and reluctantly he lets you go, still pawing your clothes as you rise. "I must apologize for Angelus-san," Hisano says. "He is unused to drink, and I think it has gone to his head. Please, Ayame-san, I fear he has spoiled your kimono." You look down, just now realizing that the wine has spilled over you, staining the beautiful pale silk. "I will replace it, of course," Hisano continues. "Why don't you go and change. Your little sister can entertain us very well on her own, I am sure, and it will give all our heads a chance to clear." You are concerned for Miyuki, but she need only cry out to bring servants, so you bow deeply and politely and exit. It takes longer than you would like to find your own maids, and even longer for them to help you out of the ruined kimono and into a fresh one, this one a deep scarlet. They also freshen your elaborate make-up and hair. As quickly as you can you hurry back to the room where Hisano and his companion are waiting. It is utterly quiet within, and through the rice-paper door you can see that many of the lamps have been extinguished. Nervously, you kneel and open the door. Hisano and the westerner are reclining on the couches within. They are unmoving, unnaturally still, and their eyes seem to glow in the dim light, watching you intently. Miyuki is laying on top of some cushions, asleep. Her kimono is loosened, the obi half undone, and her hair has fallen out of its arrangement, over her shoulders. The scarf that is normally bound inside to give her hair its shape lies crumpled nearby, and her makeup is smeared, her half-open lips rubbed clean. Your heart thumps heavily. Has she been ravished? She is only a girl. "Come in and close the door, Ayame-san," Hisano says softly. "Hisano-san," you say helplessly, "my little sister..." "She only lost a game we were playing," Hisano says calmly, "and she fell asleep. Now come in, Ayame-san." You are close to tears, you are so frightened, but you enter and kneel again, sliding the door closed. Hisano is behind you suddenly, one hand holding your waist, the other over your mouth. He is very strong, and you cannot struggle out of his grasp. "Your little sister was very entertaining," he whispers into your ear. "Sweeter than the drink, in fact. But now my friend desires to taste the Japanese charms. I trust you will be just as charming." You look at the westerner, and it is clear he isn't even human. You try to cry out, but Hisano holds you tight and you are helpless. This demon approaches you, speaking softly in his own language, words you're sure are meant to soothe, but your terror is driving you mad. He undoes your hair, stroking it with his long fingers. He kisses your forehead, and loosens your kimono, then kisses your shoulder. Your eyes are rolling with fear. He grimaces, exposing sharp fangs, like a beast, and he drives them into your neck. You want to scream, and you writhe, looking for any escape, but you feel your own hot blood on the skin of your neck, and a red mist rises in front of your eyes, and all your world goes black. Part 10- Digging the Foxhole Angel leapt away from Cassandra and fell sprawled on his back. �What the hell did you do to me?� he said, his voice pitched unnaturally shrill. �It is part of your preparation, child,� Cassandra said calmly. �So you know what to expect when the creature takes you.� Angel struggled weakly, trying to rise, and failing. �I can�t do it,� he said pleadingly, �to remember is bad enough, to live� Oh, God.� Cassandra approached him again, and Angel raised his hands in a futile attempt to hold her off. �No, please,� he begged, �don�t�� Malachy came to his side and took his arm supportively. �Easy, man,� he murmured, �I�ve been there. She can take it away.� Cassandra laid her hands over Angel�s face, and the vampire felt as though a window closed in his mind. Ayame was there, but removed, her terror at her last moments sealed  away from him. He could observe them, but it was cold and clinical, no longer a part of him. Cassandra removed her hands, and smiled. �Better?� she asked. �You Goddamned bitch,� Angel spat at her. Her face fell. �I thought that would bring you relief,� she said. �Didn�t I take the pain away?� �What gives you the right,� Angel snarled. �That girl died in horror. I killed her. You can�t just put that in a box�� �Don�t,� Malachy said warningly. �Do you want it back,� Cassandra snapped, �I can give it back a thousand-fold.� �It�s my pain,� Angel snapped back. �I�ve suffered with it for a hundred years, and I have all of eternity. I don�t need you in my mind�� �Will you not then help stop this creature,� Cassandra demanded. �Because whether you choose to or not, it�s coming for you. And me. And Malachy. And a hundred others it will slowly dissect until it has used up ever memory, every sensation, every feeling.� �Damn you,� Angel said hopelessly. Part 11- Breaking the News �I don�t want them involved in any danger,� Angel said for the twentieth time as he parked outside his building. �There may be no helping that,� Malachy replied. They entered the office where Cordelia and Wesley were slumped in their respective chairs, dozing lightly. Angel touched the girl�s shoulder. �Cordelia,� he said softly. She woke with a start, waking Wesley as well. �Where have you been?� she said accusingly. �What happened to Miss Silver?� Wesley asked. So much had happened in the few hours since his discovery at Arlene�s apartment that Angel was momentarily disoriented by the question. �And who�s he?� Cordelia added, pointing to Malachy. The gunman put his fingers to his lips, concealing a smirk. �Malachy Blaine,� he said, �at your service.� Cordelia rolled her eyes. �Geez,� she said, �what is it with Angel getting mixed up with Irish guys?� Malachy gave a bark of laughter, and Cordelia stared at him. �What�s your problem?� she said. Malachy laughed again. �You�re just so refreshing,� he said. Cordelia rolled her eyes again. �Whatever.� �What about Miss Silver?� Wesley reminded them. �She�s dead,� Angel said bluntly, �but we�ve got bigger problems. The thing that killed her, it�s coming for me�� He gestured at Malachy. �Us, I mean. Maybe all of us.� �Can we�� Wesley began. �I don�t think you can help,� Malachy said, then to Cordelia, �and I don�t think we can count on your visions. Not exactly reliable. But Angel will need your support afterwards. You�re his friends. You know him. You care about him.� Cordelia and Wesley exchanged skeptical glances. �You may not quite know it yourselves,� Malachy said, �but trust me.� Part 12- Redefining Trust Angel and Malachy slept off and on throughout the day, knowing they�d have to be well rested for the battle ahead. A few hours before nightfall, the Irishman began �suiting up,� stripping down to his t-shirt and shorts, and carefully redressing in his sturdy clothes, light body armor, and a dazzling array of concealed weapons. Even Angel was a little surprised at the extent of his arsenal. Cordelia, meanwhile, watched with horrified fascination as Malachy strapped knives, guns, and martial arts style weapons to himself. She was starting to get used to the supernatural killers, but a completely lethal human was still a novelty. Angel took the opportunity to get Wesley out of earshot for a private conference. �I suppose you�ve guessed this is pretty bad,� the vampire said softly. Wesley glanced sideways at Malachy and his armory. �If you�re throwing that terrorist at it,� he said, �I imagine it�s pretty devastating, yes. Where did you find him?� �He found me. Him and� another,� Angel said. �She called herself the most powerful seer in the world. Cassandra. Ring any bells?� �There are several that claim that title,� Wesley said doubtfully. �The most serious contenders are all pretty powerful. The majority of them you wouldn�t want to turn your back on. That kind of power can be easily abused.� �That�s our gal,� Angel agreed. �She� got inside my mind somehow. Made me live out one of my own victim�s deaths. Said that�s what this thing will do to me.� Wesley looked at Angel. �Are you�� �I don�t really care to discuss it,� Angel said brusquely. �But Malachy says not only does this thing punish you, it makes you grateful for it.� Angel paused a moment, gathering his thoughts, then went on. �I know we�re not really friends. And I don�t expect you to care about my guilt, but the thought of this thing using the blood on my hands for its amusement�� He paused again. �It terrifies me, Wesley. If you know anything, if this sounds at all familiar...� Wesley glanced at Malachy again, nervously. �What do you intend to do with it?� �The plan is for me to allow myself to be captured,� Angel said. �While it�s occupied with me, which Cassandra seems to think will take most of its attention, Malachy will attack it physically, weakening it enough to bind it magically.� Angel lowered his voice even further. �I think I really hate this plan,� he said. �It does seem a bit dodgy, yes,� Wesley said, and looked back at Angel. �I�m going with you,� he said with resolve. �I can learn the binding spells, so this Malachy person can keep up the gunfire in the meantime.� �It�s too dangerous�� �We haven�t time to argue,� Wesley went on, �I�m going.� Angel seemed about to protest, then resigned himself. �Okay,� he said, �but Wesley, if something goes wrong�� �Don�t worry about me,� Wesley said. �It�s not that,� Angel told him. �If something goes wrong� if I can�t escape�� He lowered his gaze a moment, then looked Wesley in the eye again before going on. �Promise me you�ll find a way to stop it from torturing me. Even if you have to kill me. Especially if you have to kill me.� Part 13- Twisting the Knife Malachy regarded Wesley dubiously. �I find it very difficult to believe you�re up to the task,� he said. �You have a rather long record of cowardice and incompetence.� Wesley sniffed indignantly. �You know nothing about me,� he said. �Shall I list them?� Malachy said. �Shall I recount the spectacular mistakes that wake you up in the middle of the night with your skin like ice? The guilt and shame that brings a blush to your cheek every time you think of your mentor or your former wards, the slayers? Or maybe just an accounting of the number of files and reports that were entered into evidence at your dismissal from the Watchers� council?� �That�s enough,� Angel snapped, pounding his hand on the desk hard enough to make the objects on it jump. �He�s coming. Any more discussion and you find yourself another decoy.� Malachy grinned maddeningly at the vampire. �This is more about him than you, you know,� he said. �Don�t try to draw me into your little circle,� Angel said, his voice low. �I don�t want to be your buddy.� Malachy shrugged. �Fine,� he said, �but if he becomes a liability, I�m taking him out of the fray.� He turned to Wesley. �Can you function with that condition?� �I�ll have to,� Wesley said. Malachy turned to Cordelia, then. �Don�t worry,� he said, �no one�s asking you to come.� �I wouldn�t go anyway,� Cordelia said. �I�m not some�� �G.I. Jane type,� Malachy finished. �No kidding. Hold down the fort, princess.� �I�m not your princess,� she said angrily. �Don�t ever call me that.� �Sorry,� Malachy said, �It just popped out, because my accent reminded you of the one who did call you that.� Cordelia�s mouth fell open for a moment, then she clamped it shut again. �You know�� �A little too much for my own good, yeah,� he said. �Leave her alone,� Angel growled. �I swear, if we live through this, I�m gonna kick your sadistic ass.� Malachy laughed dryly. �I hope you get the chance,� he said. Go on to Part 2 of "Occupational Hazards" Main Menu   ~   Return to Stand Alone Menu

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