Occupational Hazards (page 2) 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 14- Would You Like a Direct Line? Malachy, Wesley, and Angel stopped the car in the desert, a place that truly lived up to the description �middle of nowhere.� Malachy and Cassandra had explained to Angel earlier that the creature could be summoned to anywhere, but this desolate spot would give the men the advantage of getting the creature exposed and alone. Angel opened the car�s trunk and Malachy removed a crate of equipment. �You�re both familiar with the magic circle,� Malachy said, taking a gasoline can from the crate, �with its one door to the east. This is a variation, with two doors, west and east.� �But that would�� Wesley interrupted. �The rules have changed, English,� Malachy said. �We�re walking the edge of the sword. This creature is more subtle than common demons, and would never allow itself to be encircled by protections. Our weapons are my guns, which can weaken it, our vampire friend, which it should find irresistible, and the spell, which will bind it if it�s sufficiently occupied by the first two weapons.� He opened the gasoline and began to pour it onto the dirt, inscribing a circle about twenty feet across with two breaks. He replaced the gas can, and removed bunches of half-dried plants, handing some to the other two. Then he took a lighter from his pocket. �We need to burn these,� he said. �They�ll make a lot of smoke, and it�ll smell like hell, but it�ll make the area more attractive to the creature.� He lit them, and all three waved the bundles around the area, spreading the thick, yellowish smoke, which pooled over the ground and didn�t dissipate. Angel and Wesley exchanged worried glances. The cross into the supernatural had begun. When the plants had been consumed, Malachy turned to Angel. �It�s your duty now,� he said. �Strip from the waist up.� Angel nodded, more bravely than he felt. �Is he�� Wesley began. �Yes,� Malachy said. �The goat.� Slowly, reluctantly, Angel stripped off his jacket and sweater and undershirt, exposing his torso, and went to  kneel in the center of the circle. Malachy handed his lighter to Wesley, then pulled a silver cylinder hung from a chain from inside his shirt. He lifted it over his head, then placed it around Wesley�s neck. �You�re sure you know the spell,� he said. Wesley nodded solemnly. Then the gunman removed a bundle of leather straps and an opaque plastic container from the crate and joined Angel in the circle. �I�m sorry,� he murmured to the vampire as he bound the straps around Angel�s wrists and arms and neck. Angel said nothing, though he had begun trembling uncontrollably. Malachy stood again to his full height, and seemed to listen to the still air. �It�s waiting,� he said. �It wants to see if we�re serious.� He put his hand on top of Angel�s head, steadying him. �You ready?� he asked. �Whatever it is, just do it,� Angel said through gritted teeth. �The goat awaits you,� Malachy shouted, then he opened the container. He dashed its contents, a quart of human blood, over Angel�s body. �Come swiftly, visible, and without delay!� The vampire gasped in shock, and sudden fear. About fifty yards away, the air began to erupt. Malachy leapt away from Angel and began backing quickly towards Wesley. �Light the circle,� he commanded, unholstering his sidearms. The air seemed to tear apart, and a formless shadow, completely and utterly black save for two flickering lights, like eyes deep within it, emerged. Wesley struck Malachy�s lighter, setting the gasoline aflame. The gunman stepped through the break in the circle to join him, his guns steadily aimed at the thing. The creature barreled towards them, its roaring like the howl of a tornado, and Angel felt a scream torn out of his throat. It hit the vampire with the force of a speeding truck, knocking Angel over and over across the ground. He rolled to within two feet of the circle�s burning circumference, sprawled helpless. The thing seemed to pounce, and Angel felt it, burning cold like before, across the surface of his skin, then felt it slip into his mind, like icy fingers ripping into his heart and brain. He screamed again, and writhed helplessly, held down by the creature as though by a great hand. �Why aren�t you shooting,� Wesley said angrily to Malachy. �If I distract it now, it will kill us all,� Malachy answered. �It has to get deep inside him, where it won�t want to come out too quickly.� To Angel, the creature was beginning to take on form and shape. It grew hands, which caressed his hair and shoulders, even as they burned him, and a thousand lapping tongues to cleanse every drop of blood from the surface of his skin. And it grew a voice, too. �This is worthy,� it said, and it plunged effortlessly into his mind. �What are you?� Angel managed to cry out. �More frightening than you,� the creature answered. �More obscene. And far deadlier.� Angel felt his memories taken and spread out like the array of a tarot deck. All the resistance he thought he had built up evaporated instantly. He howled in fury and pain and terror, and his mind shattered. Part 15- The Gutter-snipe It�s late, you know you should go home, but your Mam is so sick, you think, if I can just get a few more coins, I can buy milk and bread and coal and Mam will get well, and not go to see my brother and sister in heaven. It�s Twelfth Night, and everyone is out at late suppers, fine gentlemen and ladies, and they still have the spirit of Christmas round them to loosen their purse-strings. You almost have a full pound. If you come home with a pound, your Mam is sure to forgive you for staying out late. Two gentlemen approach you. They are laughing, the drink has made them merry, and you step into their path. �Penny for a poor boy,� you say. They look at you, still laughing, and the darker one slaps his fair-haired companion on the shoulder. �Why look here, William,� he says, �the perfect aperitif.� You don�t know the word, but you hope it means you�ll get a coin. The blond one wrinkles his nose. �Never mind him, Angelus,� he says, �he�s a filthy beggar. There�s fair ladies and boys from good families waiting for our company.� �Don�t be so finicky,� the one called Angelus says, then turns to you. �Listen, boy,� he says, �if you come with us to my rooms, I�ll give you a shilling.� �What for,� you ask. �Our sister is there,� he says, �and she just loves little children. Sad, because she can�t have any of her own. She would be so happy to see you, she�d give you toys and sweets, and we�d be so happy for her, we�d just have to give you half a crown.� �It�s getting late,� you say, knowing you shouldn�t go with strangers, even gentlemen. �It�s but a block,� he says, �and think of all the good things you could buy with that sovereign.� Well, it won�t be long, you think, and a whole sovereign could buy a lot. Maybe by the time you got there, the gentlemen would have raised to two sovereigns. �All right,� you agree. You step into the front hall of the gentlemen�s house. It�s dark, and there are no servants. This was a mistake. �I should go,� you say, but the dark man scoops you into his arms and carries you up the stairs. �Drusilla, darling,� he calls out, �William and I have brought you a gift.� A beautiful woman steps out into the hall. She�s dressed in a red and black dressing gown, and her hair hangs loose. She sees you, and her eyes seem to look right through you. She smiles, and starts towards you. �Pretty little boy,� she says. You start to scream and kick your feet, but the man holds tight. �Stop that now,� he says, laughing, �or my sister won�t give you a sweet.� �Let me go,� you shout, pounding the man with your fists, and the blond man is there, too, holding your head and bending it back. He holds your arm behind your shoulder, and when you look at him, his face has twisted. The dark man�s face is different, too, and the woman�s face turns right in front of your eyes. They open their mouths, and inside you can see their teeth, long and pointed like a dog�s. �Help me,� you scream, but no one hears you, and the monsters press their mouths to your throat and rip it apart.  * Shuffle * Outside the circle, Malachy leveled his guns, and Wesley gripped the cylinder in his hand and began to open the clasp on the lid. On the floor of her apartment, Cordelia lay where she had fallen, gripping her head with both hands and grunting with pain.  Part 16- Time Stands Still From behind the counter, you�re watching her on lane twenty-four. Linda Delacroix, the captain of the high school women�s bowling team. She�s slim and pretty, but not too pretty, and not stuck up either. It�s Saturday night at Sunny-Bowl, and she�s here with her family. She looks sweet and fresh and happy with her parents and her brother. It could be 1956 for all they�re aware. It�s her birthday tomorrow, and you have a necklace you got her in the glove compartment of your car. You wanted to give it to her when she bowls with the team on Monday night, but you realize tonight will be better. You can give it to her when she stops to say �hi� and borrow the shoe spray before putting her shoes away in her locker. Maybe her mother, who has her woman�s league on Wednesday, will say, �Eddie gave you that? How pretty, and how thoughtful.� And her father, who�s assistant coach for men�s bowling at UC Sunnydale, might say, �I heard from some of the guys they�re thinking of promoting Eddie to assistant manager when he graduates in June.� And Linda will ask if you want to meet for a movie sometime. �Watch the counter for five minutes,� you tell George, �I have to get something out of my car.� You sneak a look at the necklace in its box before going back inside, when you hear a sound behind you. You turn around and this guy is there. A big guy, older. He looks familiar, like maybe from the Bronze. �Can I help you,� you ask. �Yeah,� he says, �you see, I�m pretty hungry.� �Snack bar�s inside,� you say, starting to move, but he steps in your way, and his face changes. He�s staring at you with yellow eyes. You turn around and start running, weaving between the parked cars. He tackles you, knocking you down. The box with the necklace flies out of your hand. You scramble forward on your hands and knees. He grabs your ankles and pulls you back between the cars. Your palms are scraped open as you try to get away, but he gets you, and drops heavily on top of you. He puts a hand over your mouth, muffling your screams, and holds your wrists with his other hand, pulling your arms back over your head. You�re kicking, struggling, but it�s no use, he�s too strong. He licks the blood from your raw hands, and you start to cry because you know he�s going to kill you and you�re only eighteen and your life is just about to start. He leans down close to your ear, and his voice is soft, almost gentle. �Shhh,� he whispers, �it won�t hurt for long.� And he pierces your throat with his fangs. * Shuffle * Malachy squeezed the trigger of the pistol in his left hand, then an instant later, his right. The pistols recoiled solidly into his palm, though the creature�s roaring drowned out their report. He turned his head slightly towards Wesley, and shouted, �Get ready, English,� though he doubted the man could hear him. Angel�s body was vibrating, as though from an electric shock, and his mouth was thrown open in an agonized scream. Malachy squeezed off two more shots, and saw a black tentacle separate itself from the greater shadow and start moving towards him, blind and searching. Wesley threw back the cylinder�s lid, and began to recite the incantation the gunman had taught him at the top of his lungs. Cordelia arched her back, writhing in pain. These visions were the most painful yet, all the more so because they seemed to go and on, and because she knew they were not a glimpse of what was coming, but of what was happening at this moment. Part 17- The Marquis Has Taught Me So Much� You hang suspended from your wrists with your mouth gagged in the dungeon where he has held you for three days now. You can see the sky through the window high above you, and the red and orange of the sunset is fading to darkness now. He is coming. As if in response to your fear, and the oily sweat that soaks into the rags that are the remains of the gown you wore when you suggested he join you for a walk in the moonlight, he enters the dungeon, flanked by the small blond woman. Both are wearing the hideous faces you thought were masks when first you saw them, but which now appear to be their own distorted features. �Isn�t she lovely,� he croons. �Very lovely,� the woman agrees, her voice soft. He comes close to you, and nuzzles your neck, sniffing like a hound. �I�m thirsty again,� he says casually, �and yet I so enjoy the taste of this wine, I�m afraid to drain the cup.� The woman joins him and strokes your cheek with one slim finger. You want to twist away from them, but you�re too weak, and you�re afraid he will beat you, like before. �And what�s so special about it,� the woman says. He licks the base of your throat, where some of your blood from the night before has settled and dried. �It�s sweet,� he says. �Pristine. Innocent.� �Then share it with me,� the woman says. �And we will also share the memory of its sweetness when it is gone.� He looks up at her from where he had begun to nibble your skin and chuckles. �An excellent suggestion,� he says. �I�m glad I brought you here, my dear.� The woman smiles and draws a tiny stiletto from her bosom. �Let us not wait,� she says. He takes the blade from her and draws it across your breasts and shoulders over and over, making dozens of long shallow cuts. Blood seeps out of them in tiny drops, like jeweled necklaces. You give a low, helpless moan, and the two suck the blood from the surface of your skin before it can pool enough to drip down. When each cut is sucked dry, he cuts another, and another. You watch the moon rise and cross the window, and know that hours are passing by as they so delicately drink the blood that is draining from you, hours until you finally sink into darkness.. * Shuffle * Malachy fired the pistols until the pins clicked on empty chambers, then pulled his shotgun from the holster on his back. Wesley had almost completed the incantation, and Malachy fired the shotgun, trying to hold back the shadowy fingers that reached towards them. If the incantation didn�t work, they were done for. The thing had turned Angel onto his back. Angel twisted his head back and forth, his bound arms holding him helpless. Malachy saw that the vampire�s face was streaked with his own blood. �Hold on, Angel,� he whispered under his breath as he emptied his gun again into the shadow. Part 18- The Real Deal He is tearing at the flesh above his breast, opening a wound that fills with scarlet blood, your own blood which this vampire has just consumed. �Drink,� he whispers, �and join me.� For one second you contemplate the possibility, but you have studied his kind too long, his filthy, profane race. �No,� you tell him. He laughs and presses your face to the wound, but you grit your teeth, spitting out the drops that fall upon your lips. He isn�t laughing now, and holds you up, regarding you like a strange new species of insect. �Fool,� he mutters, and takes your head in his hands. He jerks your head around, you hear a crack, then darkness. * Shuffle * He pulls the knife from the fireplace grate, its blade glowing red, and jams it into your leg. You hear your own flesh sizzling even as you cry out with agony, and twist against the chains that confine you on the rack. He pulls another hot knife from the fire and leans close to you. �You�ve such a lovely voice, Roddy,� he says softly. �Did you ever think to take up singing?� �I�m sorry,� you sob, wishing you had never even heard of vampires, let alone think you might somehow kill them before they took you. He doesn�t respond to you, only turns the knife in his hand. �I suppose you�ll not get the chance now,� he says, before thrusting it into your side and laughing at your renewed screams. * Shuffle * You pick up your baby from her cradle, and feel her garment is soaked with something sticky and warm. As the scream rises to your lips as you realize what it is, a hand closes over your mouth. * Shuffle * He holds up the metal device you use to cut up the beef bones to make the broth. �I suppose this could be used for other things,� he says. �Shall we see?� * Shuffle * You fall into the open grave. He throws your dead wife down on top of you. * Shuffle * You hit him, hard. He looks at you, confused, and slowly begins to shake his head. Steeling your resolve, you hit him again. He�s starting to understand, though you can tell by the look on his face he doesn�t quite believe it, the confusion and pain. You hit him a third time, as hard as you can. His control snaps. When he turns back to you your lover is gone, and the demon within him has come to the surface. Pushing down three years of training, and every instinct that is your birthright, you press his face against your throat, his mouth to the main artery bringing blood to your brain, and his fangs pierce the flesh. You fall backwards, using all of your considerable physical and mental strength not to resist him. He falls on top of you, sucking the blood out of your body. You feel your brain losing its grip as a jumble of thought and emotions crowd your mind. Fear. Desire. Anger. Tenderness. Hatred of yourself, your cursed duty, and of him, the thing that he is. And love for him, too. The all-consuming love that will leave both your hearts in ashes. He drains you, and it occurs to you with sudden clarity that you may very well die. But he will live. He releases you, and his face, his real face, comes into your vision. Part 19- Endgame Malachy took a fourth gun, a semi-automatic pistol, from the back of his belt and shot every bullet into the creature. Wesley shouted the last line of the binding spell over the din, and for a moment there was no change. Oh God, thought Malachy, we�ve lost. We�re finished. Then the creature seemed to compress, and long, snaky arms extended towards them. Malachy actually cried out, a moment before he realized it was being sucked into the cylinder Wesley clutched in both hands. The cylinder shook, nearly throwing itself from the Englishman�s grasp, as the shadow was drawn entirely into it. The lid slammed closed with a bang, and the clasp snapped shut. In the sudden silence, Malachy let out a whoop of joy. �You got it,� he shouted, snatching the cylinder from Wesley�s hand and waving it exultantly above his head. But Wesley had already turned to Angel, who was jerking spasmodically in the dirt, a slow, rhythmic thrashing. Wesley ran to him, ignoring Malachy�s celebratory laughter, and worked uselessly at the straps that bound his arms. He turned angrily to the gunman. �Give me your knife, you Irish lunatic,� he snapped, and Malachy dutifully withdrew it from his boot. Wesley cut the straps, freeing Angel enough to lay him on his back, though he was still seized by the spasms that wracked his body. �Easy,� Wesley murmured, trying to put his hands on Angel�s body to ease his pain. The vampire�s torso was covered with dozens of tiny cuts that slowly oozed blood. �Get the water, and the blood,� he told Malachy. �He�ll be okay,� Malachy said. �His mind doesn�t reflect. It should have protected him.� �Get it!� Wesley barked, perhaps for the first time in his life, and Malachy obeyed. Wesley took his handkerchief from his pocket and doused it in water, then drew the cool wet cloth over Angel�s brow and throat. The thrashing eased, becoming a mere trembling. Wesley picked up a packet of blood and cut open the corner with Malachy�s knife. He squeezed some over Angel�s mouth. The rictus in Angel�s jaw relaxed, and his mouth opened to receive the nourishment. Wesley squeezed the packet dry, then opened the second and drained it as well. Angel�s eyes were open, now, but he seemed to see nothing, only stared ahead blankly. �Get his clothes,� Wesley told Malachy, �it�s getting colder.� They were able to sit Angel up, and dress him; he did not resist. But neither did he show the slightest volition. They got him on his feet, and into the back-seat of the car, but Angel moved mechanically, slowly. Wesley had seen this before, in insane asylums where he had tried to speak to men and women who had faced demons. �You don�t think it�ll wear off,� Malachy said to him. �It might not,� Wesley said. �Such psychotic states are not unusual as a result of demon encounters.� Malachy glanced over his shoulder at Angel as he started the car on its way back to Los Angeles. �I was like that for three days after I faced that thing,� he said, �and I don�t have half the strengths Angel has. He�ll come out of it. It just takes time.� Part 20- The Beaten Path It was cold where Angel was. He was on a road on a sparsely wooded plain. It was dim, as though heavily overcast, but not night. There was no sun. People walked past him, not looking at him. A few brushed shoulders as they went by. They all seemed to be going the same direction, so Angel followed their slow march. Just ahead of him a woman walked, a scarf drawn over her head. Angel touched her shoulder. She looked at him dully. �Where am I,� he asked. She shrugged and walked on. He followed. It seemed he walked for several hours, and the cold burrowed into him, making his joints ache. He looked at those around him. All had the same dull, lifeless eyes, and their clothing was dark and colorless. I�m truly dead, thought Angel. This is the afterlife. He looked up, trying to see some destination, but the road just arced gently off to the left, with a stream of people following it one after the other. Just then, he saw a spot of color in the distance, a bright purple-pink. As it came closer, he saw it was a figure in a full billowing cloak. It blew up around the figure, who hurried past the line of featureless walkers. Soon it was quite close, and Angel saw it was a lithe young woman, though he could not see her face for the hood. As she approached him, he flinched back, trying to fade into the line. This person, whoever she was, stood out, and in Angel�s experience, that was usually bad. She came right up to him. �There you are,� she said. Angel looked up, and saw a tiny palm monkey peek out from under her hood. He blinked in astonishment, and the woman drew back her hood. He blinked twice more. Hers was a face he had never expected to see again. �Xandria?� he whispered. �One and the same,� she said. �We�ve been looking for you.� �Who?� �Let�s just say some interested parties,� she said. �You�ll find out soon.� Angel looked around them again. �Am I dead?� he asked. Xandria smiled gently. �You�ve been dead a long time,� she said. �You knew that.� �I mean� is this heaven? Or hell?� Xandria took his hand. �Neither,� she said, �but you were a nice Catholic boy once. You know there�s quite a bit of psychic real estate in all creation.� �Where are we going?� Xandria clucked her tongue. �So many questions. Like my little nephew.� She gestured to the people walking past. �These travelers,� she said, �are going nowhere. The road leads in one great circle, without a beginning or an end. We have to go somewhere else.� Angel�s brow furrowed in confusion. �How do we get there?� Xandria smiled enigmatically. �Very simple,� she said. �We step off the road.� Part 21- Storm Home The moment their feet touched the ground beyond the edge of the road, it and all those traveling on it faded from view, and Angel found himself with Xandria in what looked like the Eastern villages where he had been cursed with his soul. It was deserted, and small swirls of snow blew around their feet. �What�s happening to me,� he said. Xandria touched his cheek softly. �You�re just a little lost, is all,� she said. �Easy now, you�re safe. You need to rest.� She led him to a small hut, the only one where a light burned inside and smoke rose from the chimney. She opened the door, crouching down to enter, and Angel followed her in. Inside, three men sat at a table. They looked up as the two entered. A fire blazed behind them, and Angel squinted, trying to make out their features. The largest rose and took Angel�s shoulder. �Sit down here,� he said, �you need to rest.� Angel fell into a chair and looked at the man. �Oh, God,� he breathed, �Tateh.� The other two men came to him, and Angel felt dizzy. �It can�t be,� he said. �All of you� all of you are dead.� �Give him a drink,� Kevin said. And Doyle pressed a bottle into his hand. Part 22- Vive l�Amour Angel sat close to the fire, a soft wool blanket over his shoulders and a mug of hot coffee that Kevin had given him, black and deliciously bitter, cupped in his hands. Tateh kept passing him a plate with some of the chocolate-laced pastries sold in all the Lower East Side kosher bakeries, and Angel ate one after another. He had never been able to enjoy them properly on the Weisman�s table, but here, wherever here was, they were as sweet and delicate as anything he�d ever tasted. Xandria had a sack of fruit beneath her chair, and she would cut each into pieces and toss them over her red-booted feet, which rested on the table, to the men around her. Angel marveled at the sharp tang of the oranges, the sourness of the apples, the mellowness of the bananas. He had tried to ask all the questions that swirled in his head, but the others only made him sit down, and drink, and eat, and rest. �You have endured much, my friend,� Tateh had told him. �You need to get your strength back.� �I can�t stay here,� Angel told them, �I have to go back.� �We know that,� Doyle had said, �but you don�t have to just yet. Enjoy the gift, man.� Now they sat round the table, laughing together, while Angel only stared, confused but delighted. �So,� Doyle said to the assembly in general, �who didn�t know?� �I didn�t,� Xandria said, �not till he was gone, anyway, and even then I thought old man Amoroso�d lost a few screws. It wasn�t till I saw some in Tennessee, in �35, that I believed they were real.� Kevin shook his head, grinning. �I had no idea,� he said, �never even crossed my mind.� �I just thought he was a crazy Goyim,� Tateh said, and all laughed again. �I can�t believe it,� Doyle said to Angel. �You kept it a secret all that time.� �I had to,� Angel said, �and you�re one to talk, Mr. Don�t-tell-Cordy-I�m-half-demon.� Doyle pointed at the vampire. �As it turns out, didn�t make much difference, now, did it.� He shrugged. �Well, c�est la vie, I guess.� �Or c�est la morte, in our case,� Kevin said. �Tell me,� Angel said, �what�s it like? Is there a heaven?� �You know we can�t tell you that,� Doyle said. �But don�t worry, when you leave here, this will all seem like a dream. Or maybe it is a dream.� �Once I dreamed I was a butterfly,� Kevin quoted, then added, �just stay in the moment, man. You�re not here for answers.� Part 23- Oh, You Did, So You Did Doyle took the black iron skillet pot off the fire and carried it to the table. �And the last of the evening,� he announced, �a fine colcannon, me own Grandma Doyle�s recipe.� The smell of the cabbage and potato concoction rose over the table, sour and tangy and comfortingly familiar all at once. Doyle spooned it into earthenware bowls and passed it around. �Careful of the sixpence,� he warned. �I put it in for luck.� Angel ate heartily. It was warm and filling, and reminded him of his childhood, as it reminded all Irishmen and women, had they a true Irish soul. He put the last spoon into his mouth, and felt something metal against his cheek. He reached into his mouth and took it out. It was the gleaming sixpence. �Good for you,� Xandria cried, as her monkey bounded across the table and tried to take the coin from Angel�s hand. Xandria scooped the little creature up. �No, Ollie,� she scolded, then added, apologetically, �he�s so cheeky sometimes.� �Guess you got the luck, Angel,� Tateh said, laughing. �But then, you�re the only one who needs luck, now.� Kevin stood and stirred the fire with the poker. It had gone down to embers. One of the candles on the table reached its socket and guttered out. �We�re almost done here,� Kevin said. �You�re taking him the rest of the way, Doyle?� Doyle nodded. Xandria stood, too, and put her arms around Angel�s neck, hugging him fiercely. �I never thanked you,� she said, rising. �You saved me that night, Angel. I lived sixty more years. I married, too, eventually. A beautiful Italian trapeze artist, twenty-three years old.� She winked mischievously. �And I was a blushing bride of fifty-two. But that�s another story.� She clucked to her monkey, who climbed up to her shoulder, and opened the door. �I should go, too,� Tateh said, shaking Angel�s hand. �Mama will be worried about me. I�m glad to see you did well. Another American success story!� He laughed again and left with Xandria. The door hung open, and a chill wind blew into the little hut. Angel stood and looked at the remaining two men. Kevin shifted his weight one foot to the other, reluctant to leave. �You still reading those sentimental novels,� he asked. Angel smiled warmly at the young beatnik who had died in his arms almost forty years before. �Not as much as I�d like,� he said. �But I still do the Tai Chi. The discipline� it�s good for me.� Kevin smiled back, a little uncertain. �I�m glad.� �God, it�s good to see you,� Angel said suddenly. �Both of you. I�� Kevin touched Angel�s shoulder. �I want to tell you what it�s like, Angel,� he said, �but I don�t know if I could, even if I were allowed to.� His hand lingered on Angel�s arm another moment, then he stepped into the doorway. �Take care of yourself,� he said, and he stepped through and was gone. �You ready?� Doyle asked. Angel glanced around the little house. All the candles had burned out, now. �I guess I am,� he said. Part 24- This Way to the Egress In the center of the circle of huts there was now a doorway, standing alone. Angel and Doyle walked to it. �Just step on through,� Doyle said, �and you�ll be back. Safe as houses.� Angel looked at the doorway, hesitating. �It was horrible, you know,� he said, �everything I did. I mean, I always knew I�d done great wrongs, great evils, but to be on the receiving end�� �I know,� Doyle said. �It wasn�t fair. That thing had a power it hadn�t the right or wisdom to use.� �I just want to say thank you,� Angel said. �If you all hadn�t gotten me out�� �It�s all right,� Doyle said. �Don�t think about it too much. When you�re back, this�ll all fade. Now go through the door, man, before you get me cryin� like a little girl.� Angel smiled in spite of himself, then turned the knob on the door and stepped through into  empty blackness. Part 25- Scattering the Ashes The unnatural rictus that had seized Angel�s body during his battle with the creature broke, like the snapping of a taut thread. His hands, which had been balled into fists, fell from where they curled on his chest to his sides. His left hand, which was close to the edge of his bed where Wesley and Malachy had laid him, slipped off the side. A sixpence dropped from it, to hit the floor with a soft clink and roll under the bed. The sound made Wesley, Malachy, and Cordelia look up from the table where they sat together, waiting for some change in the vampire. Wesley was on his feet and at Angel�s side almost instantly. �Angel,� he said worriedly, �are you awake? Do you know where you are? What year is this?� Angel raised a hand to his forehead. �Yes,� he said groggily, �and I�m in my apartment, it looks like. And depending on how long I�ve been out, I�d say it�s the year 2000.� Wesley gave a huge sigh of relief. �You haven�t been unconscious long,� he said. �Less than twenty-four hours.� Angel sat up. �I had this dream�� �Wasn�t a dream,� Malachy said. �We captured the son of a bitch.� Angel glared at the gunman. �Didn�t I promise to kick your ass,� he said, his voice low. Malachy smiled. �Please,� he said, �don�t worry your friends any more. English spent the last six hours trying to think what to do with you if you didn�t come out of it, wondering if he should make good on his promise. And the first lady of the American stage, here, was actually thinking of calling your ex-girlfriend, if you can believe that.� �I was not,� Cordelia retorted. �How do you know that,� Wesley said defensively. �I read minds,� Malachy said casually. �Did I neglect to mention that?� �Get out,� Angel growled. �It�s over,� Malachy said, �don�t you all want to celebrate?� �I want you to haul your psychotic ass and your goddamn arsenal out of here,� Angel said, his voice soft and dangerous. �And if I ever see you again, I won�t even hesitate. They�ll find you in pieces of varying size from here to Baja.� Malachy seemed about to give a sarcastic answer, but instead just smiled coldly. �Very well then,� he said. �I should hope I never need your services again.� �I�d make sure of it, if I were you,� Angel said. Epilogue- On and On Wesley sat across from Angel at the vampire�s office desk. �What did happen,� he said, �it might help to talk about it.� �I don�t remember,� Angel said, �but I�m not dead, and I�m not insane, which puts me one up on every other person who encountered that thing.� �Well, except Malachy,� Wesley said. �I�d like to object to that statement.� Wesley smiled wryly. �Fine,� he said, �I withdraw it.� Angel rested his chin on his hand, thinking. �It�s all fading now,� he said, �like a dream. Everything. I suppose in a way, it was a dream.� �I would say that�s a blessing,� said Wesley, �wouldn�t you?� �I don�t know,� Angel said. �I get the feeling there are things I want to remember.� He shook his head, dismissing his own thoughts. �I guess it doesn�t matter,� he said. And he said nothing more. Main Menu   ~   Return to Stand Alone Menu

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