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Shanshu

 

By spikeNdru, November 10, 2003

 

Various discussions on Shanshu in the City of Angel forums got me thinking about what it would really be like for Angel to Shanshu.  This is the result.

 

Fox owns and Joss created the character of Angel; I’m just playing with him.

 

 

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Angel awoke to an unfamiliar sensation in his nether regions.  His eyebrows drew together as he tried to identify the feeling.  Not pleasure, not pain, more a sense of. . . pressure.  The pressure increased until, finally!, long buried instincts took over.  Angel threw back the covers and raced for the bathroom.

 

“Well, that was . . . unpleasant,” he thought as he prepared to wash his hands.  Glancing up, he jumped back in surprise as he beheld his reflection for the first time in 250 years.  Chocolate brown eyes, a little too close together, good nose, beetling brow. . .his eyes widened in horror.  How long had he been seen in public with that hair?  Lorne’s new “stylist” was going to be so dead when he caught up with him!

 

The enormity of what he was seeing finally registered.  He was Human!  He’d done it!  He’d Shanshued.  And a gurgling in his stomach told him he was hungry.  Food!  He remembered the last food he’d eaten—chocolate and peanut butter and ice cream.  He wanted it all!  And tacos.  Oh, and donuts.  Lobster!  He wanted to try everything.  Except potatoes.  He had eaten enough mutton and potatoes to last an unlimited number of lifetimes, and he had no desire for either again.  Except maybe for french fries.  He definitely wanted to try them!  And Barbequed ribs.  He seemed to remember that he hated oatmeal, so he’d give that a pass.

 

The rumbling in his stomach became a growl, and he hastily dressed and took the elevator to the VIP dining room.  Perusing the menu, he ordered an omelet with everything, spare ribs, cheesecake, lobster tail, french fries, peanut butter ice cream with hot fudge sauce, and an orange.  The tacos would have to wait until later.  Digging into his meal with gusto, he enjoyed every bite.

 

What was wrong with his stomach now?  It shouldn’t still be making those gurgling sounds!  He couldn’t possibly still be hungry!  He’d eaten enough to . . . uh oh!  Holding his napkin to his lips, Angel dashed for the bathroom again.

 

He emerged sometime later, with a decidedly greenish tint to his complexion.  This eating was harder than it looked.  He guessed it would take time to get the hang of it! 

 

The beach!  He could go to the beach and walk in the sun without hiding behind necro-tempered glass!  Selecting a red Mustang convertible, Angel cruised the freeway with the top down.  This was the life!

 

Three hours later, he limped back into the W&H building.  He was as red as a beet, his skin felt like it was on fire, his blisters had blisters, and sand is definitely an abrasive—it was abrading places it had no business being! All he wanted was to lie down in a dark room, with a cool cloth on his head.

 

Maybe he should get rid of the sand first.  Dropping his sandy clothes on the floor, he limped to the bathroom, stepped into the shower and turned it on.  With a yell loud enough to wake the dead, he jumped back out!  As a vampire, he was used to taking hot showers.  Hot water nicely warmed up cold vampire skin.  Its effect on human skin—sunburned human skin—was about as far from *nice* as it was possible to get!  Carefully reaching into the shower, he adjusted the *cold* knob until the water was tepid.  Stepping gingerly back in, he only stayed long enough to rinse off the remainder of the sand.

 

Toweling off, he realized he was tired.  How could he be tired already?  Maybe he’d just take a little nap . . .

 

Angel awoke with a funny taste in his mouth.  His throat was dry and his teeth felt . . . filmy?  More pressure—

only it seemed to be in his abdomen this time.  Angel headed for the bathroom again. 

 

As he was rinsing his mouth, he made a mental note to buy a toothbrush and toothpaste.  This was getting ridiculous!  How did humans ever get anything done?  They seemed to need to spend the majority of their time in the bathroom!  Maybe this food thing wasn’t such a great idea after all.

 

He twice cut himself shaving until he figured out it was easier when he closed his eyes.  Trying to shave while looking in the mirror made everything seem . . . backwards . . . and he couldn’t coordinate the tactile with the visual.

 

After dressing, he left his suite and prepared to take the elevator to his office.  A slow smile of accomplishment lit up his face.  He’d survived his first day as a human!

 

                                                                    The End

 

 

 

 

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