Manhattan,October, 1999
Angel rarely came to the 84th Street Shelter. The cold didn’t bother him, neither did the heat, but the thought of a comfortable bed, even a cot, was inviting enough to get him to walk the nine blocks in one of the worst storms the winter had yet seen.
He approached the door with caution, alert even through the fog of hunger. He wouldn’t find food here, he knew. Not his kind, anyway. It didn’t really matter. Eating wasn’t a priority any more. Nothing mattered, really, if he thought about it. Eventually the hunger would pass, the cramping in his belly would cease, and the numbness of undead living would once again creep up throughout his body.
He’d stayed in this shelter once or twice before, months apart, and now recognized no one as he walked through the halls, keeping his head down. The thought of a shower sounded in his brain…water, warm and soapy. His nails were grimy and caked with dirt, his clothes were tattered and soiled from the harshness of the New York streets. A shower would be priority number one, though the lines were bound to be long. The 84th was one of the few facilities that offered showers, making it one of the most popular among the homeless. And you didn’t get a shower for nothing. It required a can of food, or a dollar donation, something not many that visited here had.
An hour later, his hair still damp, he shrugged back into the filthy clothing, hoping that the feeling of cleanliness would at least last him until he sank onto a cot and slumbered the night, and most of the morning, away. The blankets were stiff and the cot tiny, but it was heaven all the same. Closing his eyes, Angel slept.
Something woke him hours later. When he looked up the room was dim and, for the most part, quiet. Nothing was moving that should have alerted him, especially through sleep. Ignoring the nagging in the back of his head he bundled down further into the pillow and closed his eyes. Then he opened them again.
Grass green eyes were staring at him from the next cot over. Angel was a little stunned, then perturbed. Giving the peeper a hard glare he shut his eyes again only to hear a faint chuckle.
His eyes opened again. “Can I help you with something?” he asked.
The face across from him, a man, dark hair to contrast his bright eyes, broke into a grin. “Just wondering who you are.”
“I’m sleeping,” Angel told him gruffly and closed his eyes for a third time that night.
“Well, Sleeping. That’s odd. Cain’t say I’ve heard that name much. Meself, I thought you looked more like an angel.”
Angel’s eyes flew open.
“I know what yer thinkin’. Sayin’ that to any other bloke’d get my ass kicked from here to the bleedin’ Mother Land. But…it’s yer name, so I guess it doesn’t sound so bad.”
Angel sat up slowly and the man mimicked him. “Who are you?” the vampire fairly growled, glancing around.
“I think I asked you first,” the man said pointedly. “But, since I’m an agreeable fellow, I’ll play along. Name’s Doyle. I’m ‘ere ta talk to ya.”
“About what? How do you know my name?” Angel asked suspiciously.
Doyle looked at him seriously. “I’m not the first stranger you’ve come across who knew more about you than you’d care, am I? Think back…couple, three years ago? Annoying little worm by the name o’ Whistler? Natty dresser.”
Angel’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, so?”
“Let’s say…the message didn’t get through that time. Line was busy. So they sent me. Second try.”
“I’m still not interested,” Angel told him and turned his back on the man with the oh-so-familiar Irish accent, settling back down on the cot.
“You haven’t even heard me out!” Doyle whispered fervently, rising from the cot and falling to one knee next to Angel’s bed. He spoke to the back of the vampire’s head. “They sent me with a message.”
Angel didn’t answer, and Doyle pushed ahead. “Said to tell you that things are really pretty jacked up thanks to you. You didn’t listen the first time they took the time out to worry about a lower being and now the whole world’s just going to Hell in a handbasket.”
Angel rolled his eyes and tilted his head backward just enough to be heard. “Nice pep talk. Keep this up, I’ll be doing anything they say.”
Doyle sighed. “Look, you were supposed to go to this Sunnydell place or wherever, help out this Slayer and her chums. You didn’t. She’s dead. Half her friends are dead. And big evil’s a-risin’. Some of your old pals are there, too. The Master…Darla…” Doyle waited and was pleased to see Angel’s body stiffen at the mention of his former mate. “There all there, raisin’ Cain and pretty much doin’ what they can to keep that town out of the California Tourism Guides.”
“So?”
“So? You changed all that, mate! You’re that important! If you’d been there…well…let me tell ya. I’ve seen some of the director’s cut. Pretty big stuff. You being there woulda made a world of difference. Plus, you and this Slayer?” Doyle made a rude noise that put Angel’s vampire reflexes to use. He flipped suddenly and had the man by the throat.
“I’m going to ask you again. Then I’m going to get unfriendly. What do you want?” he growled, morphing into vamp face for a brief, terrifying second before returning to his human visage.
Doyle gulped and clutched at his throat. Angel loosened his grip but didn’t let go entirely. “Ok! Ok! Look. I’m here to try and get you to stay on our side. The Powers give me visions. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but they told me what to do with them. I’m supposed to help you. And last night, I got a mother of a sneak preview at some stuff coming up. It involves you. And a snarky character by the name of Angelus.” Angel’s head whipped up. “Yeah. Now yer listenin’. Angelus, mate. That guy you’ve spent the better part of the last hundred years brooding over but doing nothing about. You could be atoning right now. Instead yer here, pitying yerself.”
Angel released Doyle completely and stared at him.
Doyle nodded. “The wheels turnin’ now? Angelus is gonna come out to play, mate. In a couple days someone’s gonna find you. Blonde, gorgeous…dead. Goes by the name, ‘Sire?’ She’s going to find you, and she’s going to show you how to get rid of yer soul. And yer gonna go to Boston and kill the newest Slayer, a little spitfire named Faith. And after Faith…well, I probably don’t need to tell ya what’s on the menu, do I? You and Darla, back together again?”
“Darla?” a stunned Angel whispered.
Apprehensive green eyes blinked. “The one and only. Whistler told you you could go either way. I’m telling you the same thing. Look, Angel. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen the stuff you were supposed to do, and I’ve seen the stuff you might still. The life you would have had, if you’d followed Whistler…it wasn’t too shabby. Got yerself cleaned up, got some friends, got some lovin’…okay, so you got run through the gut and sent to Hell by your true love…but we’ll gloss over that and get to the big picture,” he said quickly, moving on. “The Powers are giving you chance after chance, in either life. They need you on their side, for the good of mankind and all that crap. You can listen to me, and use what I’m telling you to hang on to that soul of yours, and become someone pretty damned important, or you can let that hussy sire take it from you and start on the road to Hell all over again.”
He finished his speech and took a breath, sitting back on his own cot. Angel stared at him for a minute, unblinking, then ticked his eyes around the room, thinking. After a minute he turned back to Doyle. “Why me?”
Doyle let out a short laugh. “Your guess is as good as mine. I mean, why me? Why do I get the mind-shattering visions? We’re just lucky, I guess. Besides, it’s not every day they run across a vampire with a soul.”
“You’re not human,” Angel observed.
A black eyebrow went up indignantly. “We’ll work on your manners later. No, I’m not. Not entirely. Got a little demon in me, nothing special.”
The vampire was quiet again for a moment, his eyes cast to the ground. “I was supposed to go to California and help the Slayer?”
“Yeah.”
“And now she’s dead.”
Doyle noted the slight amount of regret in his voice. “Yeah, she is.”
“I would have helped her.”
“For a few years, yeah…then you’d have moved on, taken the fight somewhere else.”
“A vampire and a Slayer?”
“And a witch, and a werewolf and a Watcher, oh my!” Doyle sighed. “Get past it, mate, it’s done. I need an answer. You can go back to sleepin’ in this leper colony, or you can come with me, back to my place, we’ll get you some clothes, some food,” he wiggled his eyebrows knowingly, “and we’ll prepare you for what’s about to come.”
Angel hesitated.
“You really want to be homeless forever? The Powers, they showed me a bit of your life as Angelus. The man had taste. It must just be killin’ the demon inside you to be dressed like this.”
Angel rolled his eyes and stood up. “Where are we going?”
“Holy crap,” Cordelia whispered, one hand covering her mouth in awe. “That man just gets around, doesn’t he? He’s in everybody else’s ‘other lives’ but mine!”
“Darla’s still alive…the Master took over Sunnydale,” Xander noted. “That can’t be good. But hey! I’m a vampire, so it’s probably not a big deal to me.”
“To you!” Willow cried. “I’m still there, with Giles!”
Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile. “Faith’s been called. I guess Kendra died after all.”
“But she’s not in Sunnydale…which means I may not be sent there either,” Wesley pointed out.
Angel continued to stare at himself, and his long-lost friend, in the flickering flames.
*FLASH!*
Angel moved gracefully around the room of the abandoned gym Doyle had clued him in to. “Went bankrupt, left town, and their equipment, or most of it anyway. Now some demons run it for the underground. I can get us in,” he’d said.
The broadsword in his hand, his mind turned, remembering how it felt to hold a weapon, going over the movements required for battle. It came back quickly.
“You know, for a guy who’s been more or less out of commission for the last hundred years…” Doyle teased, looking up from his magazine on the other side of the room. “You’re making me look bad.”
Angel spared him a glance as he whirled and thrust the sword at an imaginary enemy. “If you got up off that couch and tried this it might help.”
“That’s work,” Doyle pointed out and went back to his article.
“A few days isn’t going to get me back to my full strength,” Angel told him, as he finished a flurry of twists and turns, ending up rolling on the floor and landing in front of the visionary.
“This chick that tough?”
Angel chuckled. “She’s…cunning.”
“Maybe she’ll leave once she hears you’re not interested.”
Now Angel laughed. “You don’t know Darla.”
“And I suppose you think you do,” a female voice purred.
Doyle dropped his magazine as Angel whipped around, sword coming up. “Hello, Darla,” he muttered.
She smiled saucily. “Hello, Angelus. It’s been so long.”
“Just a few decades…since you abandoned me and left me for dead. But who’s counting?”
She clucked her tongue. “You were strong…I wasn’t worried.”
“That was painfully obvious.”
“Nice digs,” she noted, looking around at the dismal gym. “But I guess it’s a step up from being homeless.”
“What do you want, Darla?” he growled as she strolled lazily around the room.
Darla smiled. “Well…you, of course.”
Angel cocked his head. “Yeah, I’ve heard that. I’m not interested.”
“You haven’t even heard what I have to offer, lover.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?” she asked, her tone indicating surprise, but her facial expression still dead serious. “I can only imagine how long these last hundred years have been. I’ve been living it to the hilt at the hand of the Master…you’ve been living on Skid Row with the whinos. I’d say I got the better deal.”
“Things are changing,” he growled, moving away from her as she continued to circle the room.
She laughed. “I can see that. You’ve got a friend now,” she observed, glancing at Doyle. He swallowed, his expression steely. “How nice for you.”
“How’d you find me? I haven’t seen you in years.”
She stopped in her tracks and turned to him. “That’s the nice thing about magic, Angel. The Master is powerful in Sunnydale. It’s on a Hellmouth, you know. And everyone there fears us…they do our bidding. A while ago I got it in my head to wonder where you might be…and a simple locator spell later…here I am. Thought I’d look you, for old times sake.”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“Don’t take that tone with me, Angelus,” she snapped, losing her patience. “Enough of the chitchat. This is no life for you! We were once the most powerful vampires in all of Europe. Together. You were magnificent, nothing was too much for you! And look at you now! Souled…and pathetic. Do you enjoy living off rats? Never tasting hot, fresh, human blood?” She inched closer to him, finally running a finger down his neck. “Don’t you miss…contact?” she purred suggestively. “The touch of another body…the sound of a friendly voice? I can give you that. There’s a way. You can be the man you once were…powerful…in control…”
The temptation was there. It sang to him, called to his every being and the demon inside howled. She sensed that. “Yeeeess…” she hissed in his ear. “I can hear it too. You know where you belong. You know what you are. What you were…what you can still be.”
“Angel, man, don’t listen to her!” Doyle cried and Darla scowled at him. He glanced at her, nervously. “You know what I told you…you can become that guy without being an evil soul. You don’t need her to be someone!”
Darla glared at him, then softened and turned back to Angel. “Angelus…don’t you remember? All the times we shared…we can do that again…just the two of us…we’ll leave the Master…ruin America, then return to our old stomping grounds and decimate towns…”
Angel closed his eyes against her words.
“We could start by killing the Slayer…something new for both of us...I know where she is…she's near...”
Her words stirred something in him. The Powers had asked him to protect one Slayer, to fight at her side, and he’d ignored their call. Now he was here…with a second chance…
He threw her arm off his. “Leave, Darla,” he ordered, pushing her back.
She stumbled. “What?!”
“I said leave. Don’t bother me again,” he growled, turning his back to her and picking up a gym towel.
“Angelus,” she grinned. “You’re not thinking! This is no life for you! You’re nothing here! You are meant for so much better!”
He turned now. “That’s what they tell me.”
“I don’t accept that. That—that’s ludicrous. Angel…I’m offering you the world…what we once had--”
“Is over.”
His tone was final, and his words hit her heart. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she closed it slowly and her eyes steeled. “Give it time, Angelus. You will come back to the fold. You won’t make it like this…being noble isn’t in you. It never was. You were weak when I found you, you’re weak again.” She turned on her heel and headed to the door. Looking back once, hate and regret mingling in her eyes, she told him, “You know where to find me.”
Angel watched her go, a twinge of remorse hitting his heart.
“Woah…man, Angel. Are you okay? What a bitch!” Doyle gasped. “I mean, I’ve come across some girls with brass…yyeeoooww!” he screamed suddenly, clutching at the sides of his head as a vision came over him. It lasted a few moments and when the pain subsided he sunk to the ground. Angel, worried, knelt down next to him. Doyle’s eyes opened wildly. “We gotta go.”
*FLASH!*
“She’s around here somewhere. It’s an alley-way. I don’t know which one, they all look alike,” Doyle whispered as he and Angel walked the streets in search of Darla. “You’d think these soddin’ visions could include a street sign or two once in a while.”
“Dark-haired girl fighting for her life? That’s what you saw?” Angel whispered back.
Doyle nodded. “Yeah, and an older woman. Fighting some antique-looking vampire and your sire.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard to miss.” He glanced around when his ears suddenly perked up and he heard the sounds of fighting. “This way!” he called, running past Doyle and down a darkened street.
He rounded a corner a moment later, Doyle slightly farther behind, and found an athletic brunette standing in front of an older, slightly prim, woman. “Back off,” the girl hissed.
Angel stepped off the sidewalk, still hidden by a parked car.
The vampire was huge, and he had company. Maybe half a dozen vampires were lingering near their boss. To his right, stood Darla. “I think I’ll just go right through you,” he growled and reached for the girl.
Darla smirked. “You never were one to wait, were you?”
“Faith!” the woman shouted as the girl flew into action. She had strength and speed like no one Angel had ever seen. Quickly the woman moved back, but was unable to escape with the minions hanging about.
“Don’t go anywhere, sweetie!” Darla cried merrily.
“I think we’ve found our Slayer,” Doyle whispered, watching wide-eyed as the girl fought the leader and still defended herself from the lackeys.
“And she’s gonna need help,” Angel told him, and jumped out into the street. Running towards the group he felt his energy kick up a notch. It had been so long since he’d engaged in a really good fight. Leaping into the fray he pulled a stake from his coat pocket and kicked out at one of the lingering vamps. Another rushed him and he whirled, bringing the stake up and dusting him, then ducking the punches of another.
“Angel!” Darla gasped, shocked yet not displeased. “Finally decided to come out and play?”
He smirked and shoved her out of the way. His sire landed on her rear, skidding across the pavement. “I’m ready if you are.”
Darla, her pride hurt more than her posterior, got over it quickly and jumped to her feet. “You don’t want to fight me.”
“I think you’ll find you don’t know me as well as you used to.”
Darla laughed. “Look at you! A few days with the Boy Scout and you’re suddenly a righteous man?! It doesn’ t work that way Angelus. You and I have history. Involved for decades. That doesn’t just go away. You can’t kill me…and you won’t fight me.”
At that moment the Slayer spun and she noticed the newcomer. “Who are you?!” she shouted, kicking out and knocking a vamp into a dumpster. Two more vampires followed and Angel was distracted from Darla for a moment. “Later!” Angel shouted and tossed her his stake, which she brought up just in time to take out an oncoming foe.
Doyle, not one for battle, sneaked up the sidewalk and grabbed the woman, Faith’s Watcher, and pulled her back to safety. “I’m thinking this’ll be over in a second,” he told her. They watched together, fascinated, as Angel grabbed the leader by his cloak and threw him backwards.
“That’s Kakistos!” Buffy cried, watching the younger Slayer do battle with the vampire she’d come to Sunnydale to escape. She turned to Angel. “You’re helping her in Boston…Kakistos killed her Watcher.”
Kakistos was enraged at the help the Slayer was receiving and threw himself back into the battle, coming up behind Faith and picking her up, over his head. He launched her towards the wall of a nearby building and her body crumpled to the ground. Angel took out the last two vampires he was battling and ran to her aide.
“Here!” he shouted as Faith stood, shakily, and prepared to fight for her life as Kakistos advanced on her. The Slayer looked up at his shout and held up her hand, grabbing the broken broom handle he was tossing her way.
Faith plucked it out of the air and thrust it towards the demon’s heart. It went in with a sickening sound, but he remained standing. Her eyes were wild as he laughed and moved towards her, arms outstretched. Angel could see her fear from his vantage point and ran, full speed towards the elder vampire. Leaping at the last second he kicked out with both legs as Faith continued to try and push the stake into Kakistos’ heart. Together, it was enough. The impact of Angel’s kick pushed the broom handle in, and the vampire was dust.
Darla looked from Angel to Faith with disgust. Letting out a shriek she ran at Angel.
“Faith!” her Watcher called, and tossed something through the air.
Faith caught it easily and brought the weapon up. Crossbow. Before Angel could stop her, the arrow went flying.
“No!” he cried, but the word died in the air, along with his sire. In a split second, she was dust. The last thing he saw was the surprise in her eyes that turned to terror as her form exploded around them.
He stood there, stunned.
When it cleared, Faith dropped the broom shakily. Looking up, brushing hair from her eyes, she asked, “Who the Hell are you? I mean…thanks…but…who the Hell are you?”
Angel glanced at Doyle and the Watcher. “We’re friends,” Doyle spoke up as Angel continued to stare at the spot Darla had been standing. “We…were sorta told to come here…and help you.”
*FLASH!*
Home of Sandra Porter, Watcher
“So, let me get this straight. You had a vision that I was in danger, so you two just packed up and headed out?” Faith asked, propping a leg up on the kitchen table. Sandra, her Watcher, gave her a disdainful look and the leg quickly came down.
Doyle nodded. “’Bout sums it up.”
Sandra poured him more tea and watched Angel warily under her lids. For the past two hours the men had rehashed their story. The part about Angel being a vampire wasn’t being taken too well, as expected.
“And you have a soul,” Faith repeated for the tenth time that night.
Angel nodded. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe…I still have trouble with it, and I’ve been living this way for the past hundred years.”
“It’s true that Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, disappeared off the map right around the turn of the century,” Sandra told them. “I once wrote a conducted a class at the Council headquarters on the most dangerous vampires in history. You were number six.”
Angel was not proud. “You can trust me or don’t, I don’t care. My mission, as it seems, was to come down here and help you. Which I’ve done. I think we’re finished here.”
“I’d agree, except for this vision I’m about to get…” Doyle said as he slammed his head down onto the kitchen table as the pain rocketed through him. When it was over he sat up, gasping. “Ready for another trip? Seems like the Powers That Be aren’t going to be happy until you take a trek to Sunnydale.”
Sunnydale, CA “I still don’t know why you insisted on coming,” Angel grumbled as he, Faith and Doyle patrolled the unfamiliar streets of Sunnydale.
Faith bounced along side him, enthusiastic as ever. “Come on! A chance to see the coast, get some sun, check out an actual Hellmouth? Besides. You’ve been back in the game, what, a week? And suddenly you think you’re capable of taking out this Master guy? I don’t think so, beefcake.”
He grimaced and consulted the directions in his hands. “Here…up ahead,” he nodded in the direction of an apartment building. They walked to the door and knocked. A moment later it was opened by a middle-aged gentleman in glasses.
“Ah, Hello…you must be…you must be Faith and Doyle. And…Angelus,” he said somewhat nervously in a soft British accent. “I’m Rupert Giles, please…ah…do come in.”
Faith grinned. “Relax. He’s housebroken,” she said, jerking a thumb at Angel as she strolled inside. “Besides. You got me.”
Mr. Giles gave her a bemused smile. “Please,” he said, indicating his couch. They sat, and a redhead girl and two boys, all about high-school age, appeared in the doorway. “Ah, Willow…this is Willow, Oz, and Larry. We are, I’m afraid, all the help you’ll receive in this town. Most of the other residents have been scared off. Willow’s parents…our friends…I’m afraid most of the people we knew are either gone or dead.”
Faith glanced at the timid girl. “Sorry…’bout your folks,” she offered uncomfortably. “That sucks.”
Willow shrugged and gave her a small smile. “S’ok. So…you’re the Slayer. I knew a Slayer once. Buffy. She—she wasn’t here long.”
“Yeah…I heard. We’re gonna take care of that little Master-problem you guys have,” Faith told her. “Don’t worry.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with,” Larry cut in.
“We’ve met before. The Master is my responsibility,” Angel told them quietly. “It’s complicated…to explain how I know this, but that much is true. I’ll take him out for you…get things back to the way they should be.”
“The way they should be?” Oz asked.
Angel nodded. “Like I said, complicated. But, trust me. Things are going to get better. I just need someone to show me where he is.”
“I’ll explain it while the two heroes are out there hunting down the bad guys,” Doyle offered.
Willow stood up suddenly. “I’ve got it all here,” she said, and walked to the laptop computer on Giles’ dining room table. “Mapped out, so you’ll know exactly where you’re going, including all the exits and possible escapes through the sewers. If I were you…I’d walk around in vamp face. It’ll make you less suspicious. Especially with her being around you,” she said, nodding towards Faith.
“Sounds like you guys do a lot of this,” Faith noted.
“Like I said, we’ve lost a lot of friends over the past year and a half,” Giles repeated. “I stayed on…after my…after the Slayer was gone and the Master rose. Someone…well, someone had to do something, I suppose. The four of us…we do what we can, without looking for trouble. It’s not much…but, I suppose it makes us feel we’re making a difference. I don’t know.”
“We’re going with you,” Oz told Angel and Faith, nodding to Larry.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Faith began. “Slayers work alone.”
“The last Slayer we knew worked alone and she’s dead,” Willow told the brunette sternly. “You want our help…we want to help.”
Faith glanced at Angel, then shrugged. “Whatever. You guys got weapons?”
Larry opened the trunk before him, revealing an array of weaponry. Faith cocked an eyebrow. “Kickin’. I say we party.”
*~*~*
The ragtag group headed out, in the direction of what Oz and Larry referred to as, “The Bronze.”
“It used to be the local hot-spot, until the Master rose and made it his playground,” Larry informed them as they walked. “He lives in the basement, which has open access to all the sewers. That’s where we’ll find him and his right-hand vamps.”
“How many we talkin’?” Faith asked.
Oz shrugged. “How many are in an army, generally?”
Faith and Angel exchanged a glance and they rounded a corner. “Here we are,” Oz murmured. “What’s the plan?”
The Slayer checked out the scene. “Sun’ll be up soon, so vamps should be heading off for beddy-bye. Good time to strike. We’ll head in, take out what we can on the main floor. Work our way downstairs. The Master’s Angel’s fight, but I’m gonna be there,” she told him, emphasizing her last words. “Things get rough, you can’t expect me to back off. This guy has to be taken out no matter what.”
Angel nodded. “Let’s go. You two, stay back,” he instructed Oz and Larry.
They entered the Bronze to find a few vamps lingering. Angel walked in first, morphing into vamp face before the door opened, and no one payed him any attention. The three humans behind him, however, were a different matter. Their scent was strong to vampire senses, even in the din of a nightclub, and instantly all eyes were on the newcomers.
“Dinner’s here,” one of them grinned, standing up from his seat at the bar and heading over to the small group. He was joined by several others.
“We got this,” Faith whispered to Angel. “You get to the Master.” She brightened then and spoke loud enough for the vampires to hear her. “This isn’t the high school dance? Huh. Looks boring enough…our mistake.”
The vampires neared and Faith grinned. “Go!” she shouted and jumped up, spinning and kicking out, knocking down three of the on-coming vamps. Oz and Larry pulled weapons from their coats and, with silent oaths, ran to help her as best they could. Angel scanned the room quickly and found the stairwell to the basement. He began working his way across the room, fighting off any vampires that happened to get in his way, and soon reached the stairs. Glancing back he saw that Faith and the others had control of the situation upstairs. It almost appeared that the Slayer was enjoying herself as he watched her deliver a series of one-two punches to a female vampire. He headed down into the dark.
Once in the basement he noted the storage room to his left and the completely out-of-place jail cell to his right, ignored them, and sniffed out the sewer entrance hidden behind some large packing crates. Gingerly he entered the tunnels, honing his senses, and began to pick his way towards the Master. Gut instinct directed him.
He walked for a few minutes until a tingling sensation started up his spine. He turned a corner and came face to face with an imperfect hole in the sewer walls. It went down. A moment later he was descending into the bowels of the Hellmouth. The grounds opened up into grand caverns, archaic and medieval. And lighted by torches. He was in the right spot.
Once he reached the bottom of the stairs he noted that while the caverns were lighted, and apparently occupied as his eyes gleaned over various furnishings, it was also empty of life. To the naked eye, that is. Everything in him screamed that he was in danger, that something lurked. He wasn’t wrong.
“Ah…Angel,” a deep voice called from the shadows.
Angel turned in the direction it came from, defenses up. “Been waiting for me?”
The voice laughed. “For years, as it were. The most savage creature I ever knew, and so useless with that hindrance of a soul.” The Master stepped out of the dark, the candle light flickering over his wrinkled face. “Come back to beg my forgiveness, my prodigal son?”
“Hardly. But I think you know that,” Angel sneered.
“Yes,” the Master mused. “You’ve come to kill me. I see you’ve already had a hand in taking Darla from me…my most favorite childe…how could you, Angelus, really? She was your sire. That’s the problem with the younger generations…no respect for your elders.”
“Is this really necessary?” Angel asked. “You were never much on the banter, if I recall. Of course, I didn’t really give you much of a chance to chitchat did I? No…I just swept in and collected Darla, took her right from your arms…showed her the world. Even after all these years…you know what she spoke of when we met the other day? Leaving you again, for me. Getting out from underneath your boot.”
The Master snarled. “She was a fickle girl. Just as you are an arrogant being, Angelus. It’s always been your problem, even then. You didn’t want to obey your father, as you didn’t want to obey me…grandfather. You could have learned so much…and yet.”
“And yet,” Angel acknowledged.
As was his nature, the Master changed topics. “Do you like this place? It’s so much cozier than those catacombs…what…two-hundred years ago? It’s hard to believe that’s the last time we stood face to face. It’s no more pleasant now than it was then, I’m afraid.”
“Still living below ground…even in the town you,” Angel made air-quotes with his fingers, “own.”
“I choose to live away from what little human pestilence remains in this place,” the Master countered, strolling casually around the rock formations. “And I like the acoustics here. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard the Berlioz’ Symphony Fantastique ricocheting off these walls.” He paused, eyes ticking back to his Grandsire’s. “You’ve come to kill me.”
Angel shrugged. “Seems fitting…I killed my parents, my siblings…my sire…I figured I might as well round out the family tree and pay you a visit.”
“Then we should get to it,” the Master agreed, and sprang. Angel was ready for it and dodged him easily, turning and getting his footing on the loose rock. He produced the broadsword from beneath his duster, stabbing at the air as the Master danced out of the way, easily.
“It’s been too long, Angelus, you’re not ready.”
“We’ll see about that,” he answered and swung the sword mightily. The fight moved around the large underground room, the sword in Angel’s hand quickly putting the Master at a disadvantage. He thrust and drew first blood, slashing a line down the elder vampire’s torso. The Master let out an outraged cry and stepped up his attack. Reaching his throne he ducked behind it and reappeared with his own weapon, a gleaming rapier, grinning as he brought it up suddenly. The playing field was now leveled.
The fight continued with wild and graceful thrusts of the sword, all of Angel’s training come back to him in an instant and he moved around the room with precision and vigor, countering the Master’s thrusts.
“You’ve remembered the old ways,” the Master noted as he whipped around and almost took off Angel’s arm.
Angel didn’t answer him with words, instead he dodged the blade of the Master’s sword and spun, kicking out and knocking the Master’s feet out from under him. He fell to the ground with a crash and rolled to one side, pushing himself up and bringing his arm over his head, blocking Angel’s broadsword that was being brought down with mighty strength.
He shoved Angel off and spun, pushing Angel back. The ground they were standing on ended suddenly, dipping down to a lower part of the cavern, and Angel was forced to flip backwards to avoid the swiping blade. He stumbled as he landed and fell to the ground. The Master flew to his side and raised the blade, ready to take off Angel’s head when the younger vampire rolled quickly and grabbed the leg of a standing lantern. He pulled it down, crashing it into the Master. Sparks and hot ash flew, burning him, and the Master let out a howl of pain while Angel got to his feet, looking around wildly for the sword that had been knocked from his hand.
“Here!” a voice cried and Angel looked up to see Faith, Oz and Larry standing at the bottom of the stairwell. Faith had his sword in her hand and threw it end over end. Angel caught it gracefully and swooped around like a dancer, bringing the sword up as he did. It caught the Master’s neck, and in a moment it was over.
“Wow,” Buffy gasped.
“Well done,” Giles commended Angel quietly.
“So, let me get this straight,” Gunn began. “Buffy was supposed to kill the Master--”
“I did,” she told him. “Here, anyway.”
“But since you didn’t, he rose, killed half your friends, and set up shop in Sunnydale. Meanwhile, Angel’s living small in NYC…and when he finally gets his act together, he decides to make things right by going back to Sunnydale and doing what should have been done in the first place.”
Dawn nodded. “I think that’s about it.”
“It’s not done though…look,” Tara told them, pointing to the flames.
*FLASH!*
“So…what now?” Doyle asked Angel as they sat in their hotel room. Blaring music came from the room next door, the indication that Faith was back from reporting the night’s events to her Watcher and to Mr. Giles.
Angel shrugged. “I really don’t know…” he said with a sheepish smile. “My entire life has changed in a week. After a hundred years of pretty much doing nothing but feeling sorry for myself…”
“And sitting on yer ass,” Doyle pointed out good-naturedly.
“And…that,” Angel admitted. “I really don’t know.”
“Well…have ya given much thought to stayin’ out here? It’s a Hellmouth. Probably lots of action. Some atoning you could be doin’.”
Angel shrugged again. “I don’t know…with the Master gone…I think a lot of the vamps will take off. That seems to happen when a leader goes down, I’ve seen it. And with the big threat gone, I think Mr. Giles and the others can handle things.”
The pounding base next door ended abruptly and was followed by the slamming of a door. A moment later a knock sounded on theirs and the door opened. Faith sauntered in and plopped down on one of the beds. “What’s the what? You guys look wicked serious.”
“Just tryin’ to figure out what’s the next step, Slayeress,” Doyle told her, his eyes twinkling.
“Ahh…what’d ya come up with?”
“Well…I was thinkin’ ‘bout heading back to LA. I was only in New York to find this guy. Don’t know what he’s gonna do. How about you?”
She shrugged. “Back to Boston. Got my thing there. But ya know…if you’re ever in the neighborhood…” she offered. She glanced at Angel. “You gonna stay here?”
Angel looked up at her and shook his head. “Whatever I was supposed to do here is done…passed.” He turned to Doyle. “You said, back in New York, that eventually I’d leave this place and move on, take the fight somewhere else. Where did I go?’
Doyle nodded. “LA.”
*FLASH!*
Los Angeles, April, 1999
“Where did you say this demon was going to appear?” Angel asked Doyle, whirling around in the dark, trying to keep his senses open and on alert.
“I’m telling you! It’s right here! The corner of Madison and Seal! That snot-nosed pus-demon is going to step out of one of these alleys and take out an entire group of…gang…members…” his words died in his throat as he noticed they were no longer alone. From all sides had appeared tough-looking street kids. One of them stepped up.
“Can we help you?” he asked snidely.
Angel and Doyle exchanged a glance. “Uh…yeah. Any of you seen a Sitar demon around here?” Angel ventured.
The man looked back at his friends, then turned back to the duo. “You mean that nasty-looking thing behind you, about ready to bite your heads off?”
Angel and Doyle slowly turned and found themselves face to face with the demon in question. They jumped back, even with the black man. He grinned. “Don’t worry. Name’s Gunn. This is my crew. I figure you guys are in the trade, if you know this thing by name…but we’ll skip past the formalities at the moment and just get to the killin’, if you don’t mind.”
Angel reached under his duster and pulled out his broadsword. Gunn admired it for a moment. “Guess you don’t.”
“Wow,” Dawn repeated, for maybe the hundredth time that night.
Gunn grinned. “I just can’t get away from you, can I?” he teased his friend.
“I can’t believe…I mean, I knew you were all…important, prophecy guy…but jeez…what’s the body count at now?” Cordelia gasped. “Me, Xander, Jesse, Buffy, Darla, the Master…not that those last two are bad things.”
“Wesley wasn’t even there…none of us were,” Anya pointed out, looking from Wesley to Tara to Dawn and Spike.
“I guess it’s not necessary for me to tell you what I choose,” Angel said quietly, moved beyond belief at the impact he alone would have had on the lives of those he held dear. “But thank you…for showing me. I’ve always wondered.”
Jackter stepped up and faced Buffy. “You are next.”
Boston, MA
*FLASH!*
