Titled: The Penny Loafer
Author: Meghan

Email: Meghanreviews@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: Tally-NO!!! (tally ho? hahaha?)
Distribution: my hosts, my site, my yahoos...

Summary: He's soooo OWEN!

Pairing: BA
Rating: PG13

He walked into the most delightful conversation of all time. He could
here her giggling in the library with her friend Willow, and it was
obvious that it wasn't just another laugh at one of Xander's stupid
jokes. What he'd told Buffy was true, he did lurk, but she stayed out
in the sunlight and never strayed to the stacks hidden within the
shadows… it made her look golden and stir pools of longing within him
to touch the golden glow.

Oh yeah, the conversation was the best he'd ever heard, and he had
heard a lot in his day.

"Isn't he just so yummy?"

"Who?" came the red head's scandalous whisper.

"You know who… the tall, dark, and gorgeous one?"

Peeking around the corner, he decided that he wasn't snooping.
Vampires don't snoop, they stalk… but this wasn't stalking either, so
that was a bad choice of phrasing.

"He's manly, yet sensitive."

"How do you know?"

"See what he's given me Willow? Isn't just-"

"Wow! He gave you that?"

He watch her nod and cup something within her hands to show off to
Willow. He couldn't see what it was, but he could take a gander. It
had to be the cross he'd given her. She had a swooning look in her
eyes and she practically danced around the tables covered in books.
It made him preen in pride. Yeah, yeah, gab it up. That didn't change
the fact that he was damn proud that she'd accepted his gift.

"Can you believe it? He reads poetry too."

"And all those dark clothes… especially the black."

"Definitely a plus-age there. He's not for many words-"

"But what he does say makes you go weak in the knees?" Willow crooned
her eyes just as excited as his beloved's.

"But that's not even half of it, Willow."

"He does have a nice tush," she nodded sagely, bringing a sharp
embarrassment to his cheeks.  It went away as he heard her exclaim
her shock on his defense.

"Willow!"

"What? You know you love his body too, not just his mind."

A big grin crossed over her features as she spun around clutching her
hands to her chest.

"Trust me when I say uhhun," she said at last when she'd come to a
stop.

They quieted for a few moments, then Giles walked into the room with
a large tome in his hand and a coffee cup in another. He seemed
absorbed in what he was doing, so much so that he didn't notice the
girls until he nearly stumbled onto them.

Slipping quietly into the recesses of the library, he went out the
way he came. Once in his own company, he let out a whoop with an air
punch to the ceiling of the sewers… yes, there had been a jump too.
So what? She liked him.

She thought he was gorrrrgeous.

He wanted to kiss her senseless, but right now there was too much
going on underfoot. The buzz of the underworld's underlings was
excited with nervous chattering about something about to come to
pass. He had an exclusive collection of prophecies he needed to go
through, Whistler had donated some new ones to his collection so the
information might show up in them. He hadn't had a chance to finish
reading them… and a few he'd need to reread or brush over.

It was so simple back in the days when he could have just beaten
someone to a pummel or done other more cringe worthy things to them
to extract the needed info, however it was now up to him to- with
scruples mind you- find the low down of this town's underground. The
shame that it was… yeah right.

It would be hours until the darkness fell upon the earth like a
shadow from the outspread wings of a bird. Some vampires, found it
hard to be up during the day, however it was immensely easier for
others… more likely then not a Master vampire and not just one from
the main dude's line now mind you… but the power within your own
blood.

Maybe that was the problem with him these days, he focused too much
on a certain blonde and not enough time on his training. He still
patrolled, but only in places that she did not. He took the alleys
and suburbs that she didn't realize also needed protection from the
slayer. It wasn't like she had been negligent, she was busy wiping
them out at their place of origin: their graves. It made hunting them
less trouble later on, but she while she was focusing on those
newbies, the older lot roamed without control.

Together they made a good team even if she didn't know it. Her at the
home front, and he on the back line slumming it with the troops. Not
his, but theirs. Less deaths had occurred in Sunnydale since she
arrived taking over the area he didn't have time to walk through.

A minion ran past him in the sewer, not understanding who he was
with, but that didn't matter. He didn't show mercy to them anymore.
Grabbing the puffing flunkie by the collar, he spun the short man
around and slammed him into the wall.

"Tell me, what's happening in the lair."

"L-lair?" his information sniveled.

Slamming the guy into the wall again, he leaned in and vamped out
right in front of his nose, growling softly, his hands tightening on
the shoulders.

"Don't play dumb, any punishment the Master can dish out to you is
not even close to the misery I can give you. He's weak where I'm
strong."

"I don't know of a Mm-Ma-Master."

Sighing he asked very sincerely, "Would you like me to play with your
entrails? No heart, and you're still alive. I could play for hours in
your blood."

"Oh! Okay! That's Master. That one, you know who I'm talking about
right?" the minion whimpered.

At his glare the poor fella stammered on, "There's a prophecy coming
to pass, that the lower ranks aren't suppose to know… but my sire, my
sire-"

"I don't give a rat's ass about your sire, tell me of the prophecy
before I get bored."

Nodding vigorously, he earnestly supplied the information that made
him valuable, "Of the ashes of five, one shall rise, and he shall be
known as the Anointed One, and the slayer shall not known, find him,
and he will lead her into the mouth of hell."

"Sounds like fun. When's the party starting?"

"Tonight, but the Master says nobody but nobody who he doesn't send
out can go out tonight."

"Won't that be suspicious?"

"I don't know. You'd have to bring that up to the Master. Can I go
now?"

"Yeah, sure."

He let the guy drop and watched him scramble away. Then a thought
came to him.

"Hey you! Where did the Master find out about this one?"

"From the Codex."

Codex. Shit. That was the Watcher's best completed guide to the
slayer and all end of the world prophecies.  How many of those? If he
had a penny for every time one of those damn apocalypses came around
he'd be beyond wealthy.

Whistling a merry tune, he lifted the lid into the vacant building
and into his apartment. Proceeding to his kitchen, he opened the
refrigerator and looked inside the lighted box. About a dozen packets
of blood hung up inside, and with a snort he wondered what she would
think of this. Oh well, bottom's up. He snatched one of the bags
randomly and guzzled it down, not bothering to warm it up.

Swallowing he gave an all over shiver at its chill and shut the door
carefully looking at the squashed and empty bag of blood in his hand.
You could give a guy his soul, but at the core he's still a monster.
A demon. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to forget the past that
haunted him at odd moments. He had mourned them, it was time to move
on and wait for judgment day before he begged their forgiveness… he
couldn't change their deaths at his hands.

He couldn't, but he could try to stop more deaths. More lives from
being taken and maybe that would be enough. Maybe… someday it just
might balance the scales, if only a life was worth so little maybe it
could be feasible… it wouldn't matter how many he saved, he'd still
have the black marks on him… he'd still be a monster.

A roar released itself from his chest as he punched a fist into the
wall. He would not dwell on them; he would not be all gloom and doom.
He would not. Not. Would not.

If he thought about her those thoughts disappeared, she was the sun
on the horizon, the light at the end of a long tunnel of darkness.
She was his beacon, guiding him into the docks. He would find his
purpose in her when the world looked bleak. He'd be a champion for
her. A hero if he could, but that was stretching the limits.
Champions could fail.

Heroes could not.

He wasn't a hero, not by a long shot. They never strayed from their
path, they never did anything wrong, or make mistakes. They were the
ones that would be remembered. He'd be fine if he was just remembered
by her.

Taking deep breaths, he found himself relaxing as he worked on his
grace and strength with slow planned movements of his body. Calming,
he cleared his mind of everything, even her to concentrate. He could
feel the silence pressing in on him and push on all sides, racing
across his skin and beckoning him to break it. To sigh and crash its
tranquillity.

Hours must of passed, because he could feel the sun set like a rush
of energy running down his spine. Blinking his eyes open, the
apartment didn't look any different in darkness or in day. It was the
same because it was the basement of the building converted to suit
his needs.

Walking by, he grabbed his duster and swung it over his shoulders. He
had a lady to meet. A dance to hold her within his arms, and some
time to spare before telling her of the next major disaster heading
her way. She was right that all he ever talked to her about was bad
news. How about no news until he kissed her?

But he wanted the first kiss to be special and between the two of
them… not at the Bronze with you know observers.

The walk to the Bronze was quiet enough, until he was just about to
go inside the place. A couple of minions were talking about the
Anointed One and how the first part of the prophecy had come to pass.
The Master was mentioned and how incredibly ecstatic he was, but very
cautious with the slayer still able to kill his new pet.

That didn't sound good at all, so he hurried inside to find Buffy and
tell her about what he knew. Be he damned to bring more bad news,
better stop it now before it was out of control.

"Buffy!"

She turned, her legs framed by the dress she wore, making them look
long and slender and delectable. He swallowed, his eyes drifting up
and over her short little red dress to her hair curling softly around
her face. Finally his eyes met hers and he could barely resist the
urge to pull her out of here to his own more private abode.

"Angel."

"I was hoping to find you here," he murmured.

Cocking her head to the side, a slight smile crossed her features as
she asked coyly, "You were?"

"I just overheard a conversation, and something big is going down
tonight."

"Not you too."

"Me too what? I just thought you should know. Stop it before it gets
out of hand."

"See that boy over there?"

It was such a random change in topic, that he blinked at her for a
minute trying to dissolve that information as his head turned slowly
to the boy in question by the bar getting drinks. He didn't look that
interesting. Was he a vampire? He didn't smell like one… cold and
dead.

"He's here with me."

The floor seemed to drop from underneath his feet. With her? His eyes
hooked onto the other guy and little raked him over the coals with a
swirl of amber. Stirrings of rage caught him. What about liking the
tush and the mind? Hun?

"You're here on a date."

Say that your not.

Here. On. A. Date. With. Him.

"Yes!" Her voice sounding crazed. His voice didn't want to work.

Looking at her again, the pain showed briefly before he blocked it.
She was dating another man. Boy. His throat constricted as the guy
walked over and handed her a drink. Her smile she gave to him. Him,
this- this guy that he didn't even know! Much less approved of. No
guy was good enough for her, especially not this joker.

He dressed like a Gothic wanna be in dark clothes.

In his signature black clothes!

He's a clone! He's mini me!

What had he heard earlier that day?

He paled, something that was hard enough for him to do that it never
happened. He stood by and watched her kiss this Owen with the nice
body, good mind, who liked poetry, was sensitive, yet manly. Did she
not see him that way? He dressed in dark sexy clothes, hell he knew
the effect of his leather jacket on her. He read poetry. So fuck Owen.

He left the Bronze, ignoring a brunette who came  up to him trying to
cling to him like a vine.

He was in a fowl mood. Teeth gnashing, finger gnawing, foot stomping
mad. Rage, jealousy, pure blind hatred for the guy. This wasn't good.
He could feel his demon shudder within him and had to stop and stand
still for a moment.

Just because she wasn't dating him… a vampire no less… didn't mean
she couldn't date another. After all they weren't seeing each other
and weren't committed. Yeah and its his bloody fault. Too slow. Not
believing that a beautiful dream like her would choose anyone other
then himself. Fool! Moron! Coward!

He had nobody to blame but himself, that wasn't something he could
take to bed and expect it to keep him warm in the during the day. He
slid down the brick wall outside out his building to his haunches and
finally to the ground, head tilted back his not-beating heart racing
fast. He pulled out the British pound that he'd been given a long
time ago and stared at it.

He'd gambled and lost.

The battle. Not the war.
He'd get her back.

Flipping the coin, he caught it in one fist and looked down at his
open palm. It was tails. Hopefully that meant he didn't really lose
her. Standing to his feet, he cleared his head, and walked to the
morgue with a determination to win her over. Come hell or high water,
she was his.

He got to the morgue just as Xander, Willow, and Owen came stumbling
out. Hidden in the shadows he let them pass. That left Giles. It was
good to see that pansy Owen mini-clone having to be held by two of
her friends as they took him home. He was a loose canon, a risk she
couldn't afford. Owen didn't know how to handle the supernatural.
Didn't know his girl was the slayer.

Giles walked by holding his head in one of his hands, not really
moaning but looking like he wished he were. Shaking his head, he
walked to where Buffy was walking away from them. It looked like she
was going to patrol still.

He ran to catch up with her and slowed down a few steps ahead.
Turning back he saw her amused gaze, then she closed up crossing her
arms in front, the cross dangling on its chain.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Oh isn't this fun?" she asked before trying to walk by him.

He wouldn't let her go though.

"Don't go."

She stopped and whispered softly, "Why?"

"Because you were the one who invested in me to become a better
person, and I want to give you something in return for the love in
that one gesture."

Shaking her head she turned to look up at him, "What gest-"

Her question got lost in his mouth, as his lips took her soft ones in
a gentle kiss. Chaste and sweet, about to become something deeper as
he plucked one lip into his mouth to suckle on it, biting down gently
and soothing it with his tongue. A gentle swipe of his tongue over
her lips, made her shiver in his arms as she clutched to his biceps
rising up on tip toes to reach him, her mouth opening for him.

He explored her mouth in a passionate haze. His tongue tracing hers
in a soft wet nuzzling. He pursued her own passions with his elegant
whispered sweet nothings, and she mirrored his movements. Running her
tongue over his teeth and along the sensitive roof of his mouth.

When he pulled away to look her in the eye, he saw her dazed look and
smile. Maybe he just won the newest battle. Hopefully he could win
the war. Blood or Death. Her heart would be his.

His. Oh that's not cavemen like.

"Your stepping on my foot."

He grinned wider, and moved off of her dainty feet. Leaning in to
capture her lips for a moment, he pulled away to whisper in her ear.

"That's just the beginning of the gift. You saved my life and my life
and body and heart are yours to use as you like."

"Oh my," she breathed, swaying in his embrace.

She backed away from him and slowly turned around walking to her
house, never realizing she'd left the shoe he had stepped on. When he
saw her walking funny he looked down and saw a penny loafer of deep
burgundy lying on the pavement.

Bending down he picked up the fairy tale shoe that lived in the world
of reality, and looked down at the penny. It was smooth and worn, not
a face on it to be seen. From his kneeling position he watched her
retreating figure and felt the stirrings of contentment rise within
him.

That kiss had filled him with her fire and left him begging for more.
Satiated yet with a sense of raw hunger. It had left him with reeling
senses as he was lost in the smell of her perfume. Clutching the shoe
in his fist he walked to his apartment, grinning and pleased with
himself.

She may have gone out with the mini-clone but she had kissed him
before calling it a night. Now he just had one more excuse to go see
her. To think that reason was a shoe. He laughed and strolled the
alleyway into the dark building.

A wonderful Slayer Cinderella she was too. Unlike Prince Charming, he
didn't have to worry about the chiming clock at midnight, he just
needed to have a date with her. Not too problematic, right?