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Title: Not Completely Unscathed
Author: Karen U
E-mail: ksu2@juno.com
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All BtVS and Angel characters belong to Joss Whedon, the WB, and
20th Century Fox. Others, like Ophelia, belong to me.
Distribution: Charity, people who have other fic of mine and want this;
anyone else ask first (I'll say yes, I just don't know who carries
Willow/Doyle fic)
Summary: Doyle has a vision that leads him to our favorite redhead
Notes: This occurs during Pangs on Buffy; everything through the Bachelor
Party has happened on Angel
More Notes: In my world, at the end of The Initiative, Willow decided she'd
had enough of Sunnydale for a while, so she left
Feedback: Please; this is my first w/D fic, so be gentle
Prologue
The pain started in. Harsh and slashing, it cut into his skull like a
chainsaw. Doyle fell forward, landing on his hands and knees as the vision
rolled through him. His arms gave out, and he lay on the floor, nearly
writhing from the pain. Just a few more moments, and it would be over. He
just had to hang on until then. Biting his lip, he tried not to scream as
the pain grew in intensity. God, he hated this part. But that was beside
the point. He had to concentrate. He had to figure out what the vision was
trying to tell him. As always, there would be someone to save.
Red. He saw red. Red hair. Green eyes. A slightly seedy, but rather
popular bar. He knew it. He knew the bar.
"Thank God," he muttered. A little bit of extra knowledge always help. At
least he would know exactly where to start.
The vision left almost as quickly as it had come, leaving nothing but a
pounding headache in its place. Doyle struggled to his hands and knees,
then cautiously opened his eyes, trying to get his bearings back. His
apartment, in the living room. Okay, at least now he remembered where he
was. Remembering was good. Home was good. At least he wasn’t in the
middle of Hollywood Boulevard. That had actually happened once; thank God
he hadn’t been run over. Not even bothering to attempt standing up - he
knew his poor body wasn’t ready for that just yet - Doyle crawled on all
fours over to his desk and grabbed a pen and paper off the cluttered
surface, then tried to focus long enough to write. Charly’s... that was the
bar, he was sure of it. Didn’t the waitresses at Charly’s wear name tags?
They did; he would swear to that. Name tag, name tag... what the hell had
the girl’s name tag said? With a sigh, he wrote down the letter "A;"
he was certain - or nearly so - that the girl’s name had started with the an
A. Red hair, green eyes... pale, young. Doyle dropped the pen back on the
desk, then crawled to his bed, paper in hand. He put the paper on the night
stand; he wouldn’t forget it if it was there. With a groan, he pushed
himself up on his bed, then flopped down
unceremoniously. Sleep. He needed sleep. But just until the sharp edge of
the migraine had dulled down to the point where it merely felt that little
men were having a bowling tournament in his head. Right know it felt like
they were throwing darts. Only they were using butcher knives and chainsaws
for darts. After the pain dulled, he would go to the office to tell the
others about the vision. Then Angel could run off, figure out just what
evil was happening, and save the girl. That was the way it always worked;
this would be no different. Except for one minor detail...
"Oh, hell," Doyle muttered just as sleep overtook him.
Angel was in Sunnydale.
Part One
Charly’s was full. Lowlifes drank beer and played pool while the waitresses
dodged each other, as well as the customers’ wandering hands. Doyle made
his way to the bar, glancing around him as he went. He had to find her, the
girl from his vision. He knew he would recognize her immediately. He sat
on a random barstool, never ceasing in his search. And then there she was.
Right in front of him.
"What’ll it be?"
"Don’t worry about him, Alex. This one’s mine."
Doyle looked up, slightly startled, as a bottle of his favorite beer was
placed in front of him. Then he saw who it was smiling at him. For a
moment, he was torn between happiness at seeing his friend and frustration
at losing his chance at talking to - what was her name again? - oh, yeah...
Alex. He decided to go with the former; it wasn’t often he got to see Lia.
Besides, maybe he could get some information out of her. He watched Alex
walk away, then turned back to his young friend. As always, she was dressed
in all black - short skirt, a little sweater, boots. It was a bit of a
uniform for her. Actually, the all black was a bit of a uniform for all of
the girls that worked at Charly’s - tight, short, or skimpy, preferably all
three. It was pretty much the only requirement Charly had. Besides that,
anything went. Several girls had tattoos, or piercings, or interesting hair
colors. One even had green hair, which Doyle just didn’t quite understand.
Lia, on the other hand, had long - and probably dyed, but still incredibly
lovely - black hair that was usually piled on top of her head, and she had
twinkling blue eyes were currently filled with amusement.
"Don’t get any ideas, Doyle; Alex is just passing through."
"Alex, is it? Doesn’t look like an Alex to me."
"Well, that’s the name she gave me. So, Alex it is."
"Not one to ask questions, are you?"
"Don’t answer them myself, so why should I ask them? I’ve got customers,
but I’ll be back later. Don’t drink too much, though. I don’t want you
calling me at four in the morning," she warned as she left.
"That only happened once."
Ophelia Hodges - more commonly known as Lia - headed to the back of the bar
to check on the food orders she was waiting for. She was twenty,
technically too young to be working in a bar, but that didn’t matter to
Charly. Half the waitresses were underage; several were runaways. Charly
figured that hiring underage girls was better than letting them live on the
streets and end up doing who knows what. Or, at least, that was how he
justified his hiring practices. Lia had come to work for Charly when she
was eighteen, and she had seen dozens of girls come with dreams of making it
in LA, work at Charly’s for a bit, then go home to their families when
things didn’t work out. She herself wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Now
Alex, on the other hand... with any luck, Lia could convince to head for
home soon. Until then, she was letting the girl crash on her couch.
"Who is he?"
She turned to see Alex - which she seriously doubted was the girl’s real
name - beside her picking up a drink order. "What? Oh, you mean Doyle?
He’s just a friend. He comes in here every so often. He’s a sweet guy,
perfectly harmless." He was also pretty much the only customer that hadn’t
offered her a lewd proposition. In fact, he’d tried to get her to quit her
job at Charly’s; he’d even offered to help her find a new job. Not that she
needed it. She’d had access to her trust fund since she was eighteen. She
just needed something to do. Sitting cooped up in her apartment for years
wouldn’t have done her any good. Besides, she had her reasons for working
at Charly’s. With a sigh, Ophelia grabbed her order and headed back to the
front, leaving Alex behind.
Alexandra Summers put the drinks on her tray, trying to keep them balanced.
She hated asking Ophelia questions; it wasn’t that the other girl wasn’t
nice about it - Lia was one of the nicest people she’d ever met - it was
just that Ophelia had never asked her any questions. She was extremely
grateful for that. She wasn’t exactly ready to tell anyone her life story.
No, she was just biding her time, trying to make it, until she was ready to
go back home, back to being herself again.
Back to being Willow Rosenberg.
Part Two
Alex got off work before Ophelia did. Doyle was thankful for that - he knew
Lia would have his hide if she knew he planned to go after the little
redheaded waitress. After tossing enough money on the bar to cover his tab,
Doyle waited a moment, then headed out the door, intent on finding the girl.
He just hoped she didn’t think he was some kind of a weirdo.
He saw her turn the corner into the alleyway, apparently taking the shortcut
to Lia’s apartment. He cursed under his breath. The shortcut was dark and
dangerous; it would probably make the girl extremely nervous and impossible
to approach.
Then it happened.
"Oh, God, not again!"
He heard the muffled - and terrified - cry just seconds before he entered
the alley and saw it.
Alex. And a vampire. That was seemingly trying to bite her.
Oh, hell.
Without allowing himself to think, Doyle grabbed the vampire, pushing him
away from the girl. He got one glimpse of Alex’s frightened eyes before the
vampire was on top of him.
This was so not good.
While Doyle struggled to keep the angry - and incredibly ugly - vampire from
sinking its fangs into his jugular, he heard some sort of rustling.
Alex, the idiot, was on the ground looking for... what? Something to hit
the guy with? Like that would work.
"Run!" Doyle yelled, determined to give the girl enough time to get to
safety. "Get the hell -" the vampire exploded into dust - "out of here,"
Doyle finished lamely.
"Are you okay?" the girl asked, her eyes wide and concerned. She reached
down a hand to help Doyle up. The half demon took it gratefully, and found
himself face to face with a vision. Or, more specifically, with the girl
from his vision. And this time, Ophelia
wasn’t around to interrupt.
"Yeah, I’m fine. The important thing is, are you okay?"
Willow smiled. The guy seemed okay. He’d tried to save her from a vampire
- she’d dealt with way too many of them lately - and he was more concerned
about her than he was about himself. Plus, he was a friend of Ophelia’s.
As she looked at him, she realized something. She really didn’t want to lie
to him. She smiled at him, hoping he didn’t see how she was struggling
inside.
"I’m fine. I... I should really get home."
"To Lia’s, right?"
"Why do you say that?"
Christ, he had frightened her. Bad move. "She, uh, she told me you were a
friend. This is the way to her place. I just assumed..."
"Oh." No longer afraid, exactly. But still wary. "Well, um... I really
should go. You never know what kind of crazies are out..."
"Walk you home?"
Willow paused. Lia had said he was harmless. And she trusted Lia. "Okay.
That’d be... nice."
Doyle walked beside the girl, trying to figure out what to say. Nothing was
coming. He ended up simply leaving her at Lia’s then heading back to his
apartment. At least she was safe for the night; he’d managed to make sure
of that. Even if it had been her saving him in the end. Doyle stopped
short, dropping his keys as the events of the brief fight came back to him.
He’d been too shocked to really think it through before, but now... She’d
known how to kill her attacker; she’d found a stake, and she’d shoved it
through the vampire’s heart. And before the fight... what was it that he’d
heard her scream?
< Oh, God, not again! >
Again?
Just who was this girl?
Part Three
Willow sat on Ophelia’s couch, shocked by the night’s events. Not by the
vampire, exactly. She hated to admit it, but over the years, she had become
used to the various creatures of the night. It was Doyle. Or rather,
Doyle’s reaction. No screaming, no shock, no questions.
He knew about vampires.
Willow sighed, then went to get a glass of water. It was useless. No
matter where she went, she couldn’t escape the bad guys. Thankfully, there
were still some good guys as well.
She wondered how he knew about vampires. The unassuming Irishman didn’t
exactly strike her as the type to fight the forces of darkness. Willow
stifled a laugh as she realize how ridiculous that thought was. She knew
she didn’t exactly look the type, either. Neither did Xander... or
Cordelia... or Giles... You just never could tell who was out there
fighting.
Thank goodness she’d found her stake in time; the idiot vampire had knocked
it out of her hand. If she hadn’t found it in time... if she’d been too
late... Willow shook herself. It did no good to think that way. The
important thing was that she HAD found her stake in time, and that she’d
killed the thing before it had the chance to hurt the man.
Doyle.
That’s what Ophelia had called him. Interesting name, She liked it. She
liked him, too... well, what she’d seen of him, anyway. Not too many guys
would try to save a virtual stranger from a vampire.
Especially if he knew the attacker was a vampire.
"Hey, Alex?"
Willow turned at the sound of her new name. She still had trouble
remembering it, and it had been nearly two weeks.
"Hey, Lia. What’s up?"
Ophelia entered the apartment, glad to find that her roommated had made it
home safely. She hated to admit how protective she was of the younger
woman. But face it; she knew what went bump in the night.
Alex didn’t.
"I see you got home okay."
"Your friend Doyle... he, uh walked me home."
"Did he now?" Lia asked, clearly amused. Silly half demon. Did he really
think she wouldn’t find out he’d chased after her roommate like an eager
puppy? "Did he have anything... interesting to say?" Like ‘hey, I’m Doyle,
and my dad was a demon. Care to go out sometime?’ Yeah, that would go over
real well with Alex.
"Um, well, we didn’t really talk much..." Willow sputtered when Ophelia
laughed at the comment. "I didn’t mean it that way, Little Miss Mind in the
Gutter." Willow bit her lip, then decided to tell all... sort of. Doyle
was a friend of Lia’s, which meant that her roommate probably would learn of
the attack. "He kind of... well, this guy was following me and he tried
to... mug me. And Doyle stopped him. And then he walked me home."
"Oh, God, are you okay? You didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?"
"No, no, nothing like that. We’re both okay. See?" Willow held her arms
out and spun in a circle, proving that all her limbs were in the proper
place.
But something in the redhead’s eyes told Ophelia that there was a lot more
to it than that.
Part Four
Doyle moaned slightly as he woke up. His back hurt. Probably bruised from
the fall he’d taken the night before. His moan turned into a groan as he
rolled himself off the bed. He padded to the bathroom, where he quickly
stripped off his clothes, turned on the water, and stepped into the shower.
He had spent over an hour contemplating the mystery that was Alex the night
before, and he regretted the fact that he was no closer to figuring her out
than he had been when he fisrt met her. All he knew about the girl was her
name - which may very well be false - the fact that she knew how to kill a
vampire, and that she was in some sort of trouble. Or, at least, she had
been. Perhaps he’d been meant to protect her from that vampire. If he
hadn’t distracted the beast, she wouldn’t have been afforded the opportunity
to find a stake, and she very easily could have been killed. Maybe, just
maybe, he’d managed to help her avoid whatever danger she was in...
As usual, the vision came without warning. Doyle crashed to his knees,
hitting his head on the tile wall of the shower. The hot water pounded down
on him, seemingly increasing the intensity of the vision. Doyle nearly
screamed as the vision came to him.
Red. Alex. Definitely Alex. Cordelia was there. Screaming a name. Not
Alex... something else. What was it?
The vision became even more powerful, more vivid. He’d never felt anything
like this before. He found himself wishing, praying, for unconsciousness,
death, anything to end the pain. But the vision wasn’t over yet. It kept
on rolling through. Doyle wasn’t sure how much more he could stand.
Charly’s bar... Angel. A demon. Reaching for Alex. Ophelia. Pain.
And then it was over, leaving Doyle wet, naked, and trembling in the shower.
Groaning loudly, the half demon shut off the water and pulled himself out
of the shower. He grabbed his robe and shakily pulled it on. He’d never
had two visions about the same person before. Did that mean he’d
inadvertently put her in some sort of new danger the night before? Or was
this just the Powers That Be’s way of telling him that the job hadn’t been
completed yet? He attempted to get up, managing to push himself up onto his
hands and knees, but simply collapsed back onto the ground when he tried to
rise to his feet. Giving up, he lay on the floor of the bathroom and gave
into the sleep that was calling for him. He could tell Cordelia about the
vision later, and he could hope and pray that Angel would get back from
Sunnydale.
It appeared that Alex was still in need of help.
Part Five
Unbeknownst to Doyle, his prayers had been answered. Angel made his way up
from his apartment, startling Cordelia when he entered the office area.
"Angel! I didn’t know you were back. When did you get in? Did you get rid
of the evil?"
Angel smiled slightly at the cheerleader. He’d hated hiding himself from
Buffy, and he was glad to be back in LA. Seeing the Slayer - though she’d
had no clue he was there - had only serve to cement Angel’s belief that he
had done the right thing.
"Hi, Cordelia. I got back a few hours ago. And yes, the evil’s gone. An
angry Native American spirit needed to be vanquished."
"Oh. Did you have fun?"
"Of course I did. Xander had syphilis. Granted, it was mystical syphilis
that cleared right up after the evil was vanquished, but hey, it was fun
while it lasted."
"Charming. And rather funny, actually," Cordelia replied. Although the
thought was undeniably mean, she saw no reason to admonish the vampire. He
didn’t joke nearly often enough. In her opinion, he needed to be happier.
Not too happy, mind you. She didn’t want to end up working for a homicidal
maniac. "So, what was it like working with everyone again?"
"Um... well..."
"Angel?"
"Only Giles knew I was there. I didn’t tell anyone else, and luckily, I
managed to avoid everyone. And Oz and Willow weren’t even in town.
"Why not? Some sort of lovers’ weekend?"
"Not even close," the vampire informed her sadly. What had happened was so
awful; he felt terrible for the little redhead. "Apparently, they broke up.
He cheated on her with another werewolf, and the female werewolf tried to
kill Willow, and Oz left town."
"Poor Willow," Cordelia murmured. That was even worse than what had
happened between her and Xander.
"Yeah. Poor Willow. According to Giles, in order to save Willow, Oz killed
the other werewolf while they were in wolf form. Then he turned on Willow;
if Buffy hadn’t been there, he probably would have killed her, too."
"Oh, God," Cordelia whispered. An image of Willow being torn apart flashed
across her mind, and Cordy had to push back a wave of nausea.
"Anyway," Angel continued, "Oz left town to deal with everything However, a
couple weeks ago, Spike showed up in town and tried to bite Willow, but was
somehow unable to do it. No one’s sure what happened to Spike, but that was
pretty much the last straw. Willow decided that she needed a break from
Sunnydale and took off herself. She’s kept in touch with Giles though, so
he knows she’s okay."
"Well, that’s good at least. That she’s okay." Cordelia paused, then
pinned her boss with a glance. "You didn’t even try to talk to Buffy? Not
even once?"
"No, I didn’t. Subject closed. Now, where’s Doyle?"
"Angel, thank God you’re back."
Both vampire and girl turned at the sounded of Doyle’s ragged voice. His
clothes were even more mismatched than usual, and he looked like he had a
raging hangover.
"What the hell happened to you?" Cordelia burst out, worried.
"Angel, buddy, we’ve got a problem."
"A vision?"
"You could call it that. So, what are you doing tonight?"
"You tell me."
Part Six
He was sitting in Charly’s bar, waiting for the redhead from Doyle’s vision
to show up. So far, she was a no-show, and Angel was beginning to get
worried. According to the waitress he had asked, Alex was supposed to be
working that night. Of course, the girl seemed so out of it, he wasn’t sure
if he should trust her. He sighed unnecessarily, beginning to believe that
his night had been wasted. There wasn’t a pretty little green-eyed redhead
in sight, much less one named Alex.
"Damn," he muttered.
"Talking to yourself already? You’re only on your first beer."
Angel jumped slightly; he hadn’t even heard the pretty young waitress come
up to him. She had long black hair and blue eyes, and she was beautiful.
He smiled slightly at her. "No, just looking for someone."
"Aren’t they all?" she asked rhetorically, gesturing to the men in the bar.
Her hand accidently brushed his, and her movement allowed him a glimpse of
her name tag. Lia. He wondered if it was her real name. He doubted that
many of the waitresses were really who their name tags proclaimed them to
be.
"I’m looking for someone specific."
"And just who would that be?" Cautious now, not as friendly.
"Well, she’s a little redhead. Her name’s Alex. Maybe you know her?" he
ended questioningly.
Something sparked in her eyes. Distrust, fear, he wasn’t sure. "She’s not
here," Lia told him confidently.
"When will she be here?"
"Don’t know. Not tonight, anyway. She’s off." Ophelia sighed, then
glanced around. Jack lifted his hand, signaling that he needed another
beer. "I’ve got to go. Is there anything you need?"
"Not right now," Angel responded, gesturing to his nearly full beer. He
knew she wouldn’t give him the information he needed.
"All right then," she said, heading off to get Jack’s drink.
He watched her. He wouldn’t have admitted it on pain of death, but he did.
The way she acted to the other patrons... friendly, laughing. She virtually
ignored him for the rest of the night. He caught her looking at him once or
twice, and he was pretty sure that he didn’t like the look in her eyes.
Then he saw it. She was laughing, flirting with some random guy. Not too
old or bad-looking or anything... but Angel’s gut twisted. The guy was,
without a doubt, a vampire.
Angel hoped the girl wasn’t stupid enough to go off with a strange guy, but
he knew that vampires didn’t often take no for an answer. He tossed enough
money on the counter to cover the beer he had hardly touched, then headed
outside to wait.
It didn’t take long.
The girl came out the back, carrying some trash. Angel watched as the
vampire took the bag from her and put it in the dumpster, the girl giggling
her thanks. The vampire smiled at the girl, all charm.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he asked suggestively.
"Well," Lia replied, all secret smiles and suggestive eyes, "actually there
is..."
"What would that be?" the vamp asked, leaning in. Angel started forward,
prepared to take action.
"You can die." Almost before the sentence was out, the vampire was dust.
"Idiot," the girl muttered. She turned as if to go in, then stopped and
turned. Angel shrank back into the shadows, prepared to leave.
"I know you’re out there," Ophelia called into the darkness. "I don’t know
who you are, or what you want with Alex, but I know what you are. I’m not
in the mood for a fight right now, but, if I catch you feeding, I’ll kill
you." And with that, she was gone.
Angel turned and headed back to the office.
Part Seven
Doyle’s lock-picking skills weren’t what they used to be. He had decided -
and conveniently forgotten to tell Angel - that he was going to break into
Lia’s apartment. They needed information on Alex, and he knew it wasn’t
going to come from Lia. Besides, he really wanted to know about the
redhead. Granted, it would be better to get to know her and actually ask
her these things instead of poking around her personal property, but that
would take too long. He was working on a deadline here; whatever evil Alex
had to face was getting closer and closer, and Doyle wasn’t about to let
legalities get in the way of helping her.
"Doyle?"
"Shi--oot," the half demon hurriedly corrected himself as he turned to face
Alex. "Hi."
"Hello," the girl said, amusement and curiosity lighting up her eyes. "Is
there something you need?"
"You. No, wait, that came out completely wrong. I meant, I’m here to see
you. If that’s okay." Damn, damn, damn. It looked like his breaking and
entering would have to be put on hold. Of course, spending time with Alex
was one heck of a consolation prize.
Willow grinned at Doyle. She knew he had been up to something when she
walked up, but she decided to let it slide. For reasons she couldn’t
explain, she trusted the Irishman.
"Sure. Come on in." Doyle followed her in, taking in her appearance. The
night before, she’d been wearing black leather pants and a black tank top -
typical Charly’s fare. Tonight, however, she was wearing a long skirt and a
fuzzy blue sweater. She looked young, sweet, and undeniably cute.
Oh, yeah. He was in deep. And he didn’t even know her real name. The
vision had helped him figure that out. Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure
out what it was that Cordelia had called her. He figured that she would
tell him her real name when she was ready, perhaps when he took her to meet
Cordelia and Angel.
It never occurred to him that she already knew them.
"Soda?"
"Huh?" Doyle asked dumbly. He had no idea what she’d just asked him.
"I said... would you like a soda?" she repeated patiently, a glint of humor
in her eye.
"Yes, of course. That would be great."
"So," Willow asked as she set two glasses on the table, "what was it you
wanted to see me about?"
"Hmmm?" Doyle returned, slightly distracted by the way the light played off
her hair. It looked like fire.
"You said you came by to see me..." she prompted.
"Oh, yeah, that. Well, I was just wondering... if you’d like to go out with
me..."
"Couldn’t you have just called to ask me out?"
"That way just seems so... impersonal," Doyle finished a bit lamely.
Willow grinned, enjoying his nervousness. It just made him all the more
adorable. After a moment, she decided to let him off the hook.
"I’d love to go out with you."
The nervousness faded, and within seconds, the two were chatting like old
friends, which is how Ophelia found them nearly an hour later. After
conversing for a few minutes, Doyle left, and the two girls were alone.
"So, Alex, what was that all about?"
"What? Oh, you mean Doyle? He just came by... to ask me out. Or so he
claims. I’m not so sure that was his original intent..."
"Please. I saw the way he was looking at you, the silly little half demon."
Ophelia froze before the words were even past her lips. She turned slowly
to face her roommate.
Willow stood there with shock evident on her face.
"What did you just call him?"
Part Eight
"What did you think I called him?" Ophelia asked, hoping Alex had heard her
wrong.
"A half demon. You said Doyle was half demon. But not an evil one, right?
He’s not evil... is he? Oh, why can’t I meet a nice, human guy?"
"No, he’s not evil. Wait... did you say nice, < human >
dated a non-human before?"
Willow nodded forlornly as she flopped on the couch. "My last boyfriend was
a werewolf."
Lia walked over to the couch and sat down next to her friend. "A werewolf."
"Um-hmm."
"I think we both have a lot to tell each other."
"I guess we do."
"So," Lia said gamely. "Who goes first?"
"I guess I will. I mean, I’m staying here at your apartment; I should at
least tell you the truth about myself. First of all, my name isn’t Alex."
"I didn’t figure it was."
"It’s Willow. I’m eighteen, so you don’t have to worry about the fact that
you’re harboring a runaway or anything like that..."
Ophelia placed her hand on Willow’s, halting the girl’s dialogue. "It
wouldn’t matter to me if you were a runaway. I’m helping you because you
looked like you could use a friend. That’s it."
"Okay, then. Anyway, I’m in college... I live in Sunnydale. It’s not too
far from here. Ever since I started college, things were really crappy.
Not that things were wonderful before then or anything before, but they just
got to the point where I couldn’t take it. It’s funny, I survived so
much... but I had to leave after the whole Oz thing."
"Oz?"
Willow stood up and began to pace as she talked. "The werewolf boyfriend.
He cheated on me with another werewolf. Then she tried to kill me... and,
well, it was a huge mess. I ended up trapped with both of them while they
were in wolf form. Oz... he, well, he killed her." Willow closed her eyes,
painfully reliving the memory. "Then
he turned to me. If Buffy hadn’t shown up..."
"Who’s Buffy?"
"My best friend. The Vampire Slayer. You did know about vampires, didn’t
you?"
"Trust me, I know about vampires. I know too damn much about them." At
Willow’s questioning glance, the older girl shrugged. "I’ll explain it to
you later. Why don’t you finish your story? Or are you done?"
"Almost. Well, almost done with why I left. I’ve been friends with Buffy
since we were sophomores in high school, and I found out she was the Slayer
right of the bat. I’ve got plenty of stories I can tell you... but now’s
not the time for that. Anyway, Oz ditched
town soon after the she-wolf thing, and I was doing... really, really badly.
Then this vampire came to town... We’d dealt with him before... He bit me.
Or tried to, actually. No actual biting ever occurred, but I’d had
enough. So I left. And well, you pretty much
know what comes after that."
Ophelia nodded. Her hands were clenched in her lap, and she was slightly
pale, partly because of what Willow had said, partly because she knew her
story came next. She had never told this to anyone before. Not even Doyle
knew everything. She looked at Willow, took a deep breath.
"I guess it’s my turn now."
Part Nine
Ophelia took a deep breath, and she closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at
Willow as she spoke; she knew she’d break down if she saw sympathy in the
other girl’s eyes.
"I never knew my father; my mom was only sixteen when I was born."
"Lia, you don’t owe anything to me. You don’t have to do this is..."
"Yes. I do," the other girl said tightly. "I need to tell someone. I need
to tell you."
"Okay," Willow replied, sitting down beside her friend. "I’m listening."
"Her name was Juliet. My family... they always had a thing for Shakespeare.
I like to think that Mom didn’t finish reading Hamlet until after I was
born. Ophelia isn’t exactly a strong female role model... Anyway, she was
sixteen, but she was already old for her
age. My grandparents wanted her to get rid of me. Abortion, adoption...
they didn’t care. They just wanted me gone, and she refused. Then my dad
left. He didn’t even say goodbye. He was just gone one day." Ophelia took
a deep, steadying breath, then continued. "A few days..." her voice broke,
and Lia was forced to try again. "A few days after I was born, this man
showed up, and he changed her life forever."
"Who was he, Lia?" Willow whispered, terrified he was a pimp, or a
kidnapper, or... something.
"He was her Watcher."
"Oh, God." Willow closed her eyes as grief passed through her at the
knowledge that Ophelia’s mother had to be dead.
"She was a Slayer. I grew up knowing about vampires. She was so good at
what she did; I never really learned to fear vampires. Except for one... We
lived with her Watcher for a while. He was a good man. He was like a
father to her... to me as well. I called him Uncle Luke. Damn it, I loved
that man."
"What happened to him?"
"Killed. By a demon. A green slimy demon that ripped him apart. I wasn’t
there when it happened, but I’ll never forget that night when Mom came home.
She was covered in blood... I remember asking her if she was hurt. She
told me it wasn’t her blood, that she was okay, but she was crying. Then
she told me that Uncle Luke wasn’t coming back anymore." Ophelia took
several deep breaths, trying to compose herself when all she really wanted
to do was cry her eyes out. "She was twenty-two then, already old for a
Slayer. She decided that she didn’t need another Watcher. I don’t think
she could have handled it, not after what happened to Luke. We took off...
went wherever she felt like going. Then..."
"What?"
"When I was eight," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "That’s when
it happened. We were in Canada. Some vampire was causing all sorts of
trouble. He caught up with us in a parking garage. They fought, but she
wasn’t at her best; she had been hurt a few days before, and it hadn’t
completely healed. She was yelling for me to run, Willow," Ophelia sobbed
out, her gut twisting at the memory. "She was yelling for me to run while
he broke her neck." Lia doubled over as if in pain, sobbing as if her heart
was breaking.
Willow imagined that it was.
Part Ten
Willow was tired, but she was on a date, so she tried no to let her
exhaustion show. She and Ophelia had stayed up way too late the night
before - they had watched the sunrise before going to bed - and had talked
about virtually everything. Willow had told the other girl all about
Sunnydale, though she had left Angel out. She had started to make a comment
about how not all vampires were bad, but she had seen the sudden tension in
Ophelia and had decided to let the matter drop. She had, however, told her
friend about her witchcraft, although her greatest feat - restoring Angel’s
soul - was left unsaid. After only a few hours sleep, Willow had worked the
lunch shift at the bar. It was rowdy, but the guys tended to eat and leave
without getting drunk and offerring up lewd propostitions, so Willow
actually preferred that shift. However, immediately after she’d gotten off
work, she and Doyle had headed off to the outdoor cafe that they were
currently at. In fact, she was still wearing the short leather skirt, tank
top, and leather jacket theat made up what she had worn to work that day.
"You okay, Red?" Doyle asked, concerned. She was charming as usual, but she
didn’t seem to be totally with him.
"Yeah... I’m fine. Just tired, I guess. Lia and I stayed up late last
night and talked."
"Girl talk, huh? Hair, make-up, boys -"
"Werewolves, demons, vampires," she replied, her eyes on his. She had to
give him credit; he didn’t even flinch.
"She told you, didn’t she?"
"About you being half demon? It slipped; it’s not like she meant to tell
me. I can’t exactly hold your secret against you, can I? I haven’t even
told you my real name. Or that I’m a witch."
"Your real... You’re a witch?"
"Yeah."
"That’s... interesting. I guess we’re even then, aren’t we?" Doyle paused,
then spoke again as a thought hit him. "You came here with me tonight, even
though you know I’m half demon? Why?"
Willow shrugged. "Not all demons are bad; I know that from personal
experience," she said thinking of Angel and Anya. Anya may be a real girl
now, but she still had all the memories of her time as a demon. Her change
to a human hadn’t really changed the girl, and Willow had grown to like the
girl, although she wouldn’t admit to it. "Besides,
Ophelia trusts you."
"And you trust Ophelia."
"Well, yeah. Plus, I like you."
"Really?"
"Yes, really," the redhead responded with a grin. Returning the smile,
Doyle leaned in and captured her lips with his. He felt Willow’s sharp
intake of breath, then smiled inwardly as she returned the kiss. Not
wanting to push the girl, he ended the kiss long before he wanted to.
However, he stayed close to her, so close that their breath still mingled.
"That was... wow, Alex."
"Willow," she whispered.
"What?"
"My name. It’s Willow... I’m from Sunnydale."
Sunnydale. Where Angel and Cordelia were from. He knew he’d heard Cordy
say something about a girl named Willow. Doyle sat back as a sinking
sensation came over him. He thought he’d had time; he’d thought that the
vision meant that she’d meet Cordy and Angel before anything happened. It
had never occurred to him that she already knew them. Doyle stood, ready to
cart her off to safety back at the agency...
Without warning, everything went black.
The last sound he heard was Willow’s terrified cry.
Part Eleven
Ophelia was worried. It was nearly three in the morning, and Willow and
Doyle weren’t back yet. She knew that her roommate would have called and
told her not to worry if she had intended to stay out that late. But she
hadn’t.
So she was worried.
Quietly, so as not to disturb Doyle’s slightly creepy neighbors, Ophelia
entered the half demon’s apartment, not sure if she hoped he was there or
not. She didn’t think that Willow was the type to sleep with a guy on the
first date, but you never knew.
"Damn," she muttered when she realized the apartment was empty. With a
sigh, she began to shuffle through the things on Doyle’s desk, hoping to
find a clue to where her friends had gone.
"Nothing. Not a damn thing." She stomped into Doyle’s bedroom, then
flopped on the bed. "Where the hell are you two?" With an annoyed sigh,
she sat back up.
Then she saw it.
The slip of paper that Doyle had written his original vision about Willow
on.
"Oh, God."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Less than fifteen minutes later, Lia was in the office of Angel
Investigations. She had never been there before, but Doyle had once told
her to go there if she had any problems.
"We’re closed," a rather snooty brunette said, and Lia had to resist the
urge to punch the girl in the nose.
"I don’t give a damn. Doyle went out with my roommate tonight, and they’re
not back yet."
"Wow. Maybe Doyle got lucky."
"Not likely. I think they could be in trouble." She handed the slip of
paper to the girl. "Doyle had a vision about her..."
Cordelia’s eyes widened as she realized that her friend could indeed be in
danger. Before she could call for Angel, though, the vampire came out of
his office. "Did I hear voices-"
"Oh, God. What the hell are you doing here?"
"He works here," Cordelia supplied. "He’s Angel. You know, as in Angel
Investigations."
"But he’s a vampire! Vampires are evil; Doyle knows that. Why the hell
would he work for a vampire?"
"You know Doyle?" Angel interjected.
Ophelia turned to him, her eyes full of distrust. "Yes, I know Doyle. I
have for a few years. He told me to come here if I ever needed help."
"And now you need help."
Ophelia eyed the vampire warily, ready to pull out a stake if he made any
sudden movements. She vaguely wondered if he’d try to kill her or just
throw her out on her ass without even listening to her. And if he did help
her, just what kind of payment would he demand for his help? However, she
was desperate to find Willow and Doyle. "I guess I do need help. I’m just
not so sure I could pay the price for yours."
"Tell me what’s wrong." When the girl didn’t speak, Angel stepped closer to
her, a bit surprised when she didn’t retreat. She knew what he was, but
there was no fear in her eyes. Of course, he had seen her stake a vampire
without blinking an eye just the night
before. "You don’t trust me, I understand that. But who else can you go
to?"
Lia looked down. He was right, and she knew it. Besides, for some reason,
Doyle trusted this vampire. And she had seen something in his eyes that
she’d never seen in any other vampire: concern. And it seemed genuine.
"He had a vision about her."
"Alex. You’re roommate’s Alex?" Angel asked.
"Yeah. Actually her name’s Willow, but..."
"Oh, God." Red hair. Green eyes. And he knew for a fact that Willow
wasn’t in Sunnydale. Angel sat down heavily on Cordelia’s desk.
"Are you okay?" Lia asked, surprised by what she considered the vampire’s
rather extreme reaction.
"I think I know her."
Part Twelve
"You think you know her," Ophelia repeated dumbly.
"If she’s from Sunnydale, I’m sure of it."
"Then you do know her. She came here from Sunnydale a couple weeks ago."
Cordelia gasped as she realized just who it was that was in danger. She and
Willow had never been friends, but that didn’t mean she wanted anything bad
to happen to her. And Doyle’s visions usually meant something bad.
"Oh, God, Willow," Angel whispered. Doyle had told him about the vision,
and the fact that something could happen to Willow terrified him. He stood
up and grabbed his jacket. "We have to find her. Now. We have to save
them."
"What is she to you?" Lia asked, curious.
"She’s a friend. I owe her everything." Angel closed his eyes briefly,
then looked the young woman in the eye. "She gave me back my soul."
"Your soul. You have a soul?" It was an odd concept - a vampire with a
soul, a conscience - but there really wasn’t any other way to explain the
vampire’s actions. He seemed too concerned to be faking it. Also, the girl
that was working for him was clearly human, and Doyle was half human. The
mere fact that the two had spent months in Angel’s company and still lived
spoke volumes.
"I know it’s hard to believe," Angel began.
"Look, I can process this whole vamp with a soul thing later. Right now,
all that matters is that, for reasons I don’t fully understand, Doyle trusts
you enough to send me here. Besides, I do need your help, vampire or not.
And if it turns out that you’re lying about having a soul, and I’m a raging
idiot for ever believing you, then I can always stake you later." Without a
backward glance, Lia headed out the door, Angel and Cordelia at her heels.
"If you don’t believe that he has a soul, why is it that you aren’t afraid
of Angel?" Cordelia asked as Angel led the young women to his car.
"Didn’t I just say I believe him?"
"Okay, well... you weren’t afraid before he told you about the whole soul
thing, either. Explain that."
"Let’s just say I take after my mom and leave it there."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Willow came to slowly, the pain in her head causing her to wince, a moan
escaping her lips as she did so. Her vision was blurred, making things seem
a bit like a watercolor painting. Even so, she could make out the most
important things. She looked around her, relieved when she saw that yes,
Doyle was there, and though he was still unconscious, he was indeed
breathing. After a few moments, her vision cleared up completely, and she
realized two things.
She was tied to a chair.
And she was in the basement of Charly’s Bar.
"Oh, hell."
Part Thirteen
"Where exactly are we headed?" Cordelia asked as she gripped the seat in
front of her. Angel wasn’t what one would consider the world’s safest
driver, and both women were hanging on for dear life.
"Charly’s Bar. It’s where Willow and I work. It’s also the place Doyle saw
in his vision."
"Wait a minute. You two work in some seedy little bar? How classy."
"Actually, it’s where I met Doyle, thank you very much. It’s also prime
hunting ground for vamps."
"You purposely work in an area where vampires hang out?"
"It makes it easier to kill them."
"Well, you’re just Surprise-a-Minute Girl, aren’t you? How long have you
been a vampire hunter... or whatever it is that you are?"
"I staked my first vamp when I was thirteen. I don’t actively hunt them,
though. I just stake the ones I come across." She glanced at Angel,
remembering their outdoor encounter at Charly’s the night before, then
amended her comment. "Usually."
"When did you find out about vampires?"
Lia sighed, annoyed with Cordelia’s incessant questioning. "I’ve always
known about them. You could say I grew up around them."
Angel let out a breath as he realized what Lia was getting at. That earlier
comment about taking after her mother, her ease when she was trapping that
vamp, how calmly she had threatened him... it made sense now. It didn’t
happen often, but there had been Slayers that had lived long enough to have
children. However, Cordelia still had
no idea.
"Was your dad a Watcher or something?"
When Lia simply sat, staring straight ahead, Angel spoke. "She was a
Slayer, wasn’t she?"
"Who?" Cordelia asked, confused.
"My mother," Lia whispered as Angel rolled the car to a stop under the sign
for Charly’s. "We’re here," she said needlessly as she got out of the car.
She looked across the hood of the car and met Angel’s eye. "Let’s go save
our friends. We can have storytime later."
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Willow jerked awake when she felt the hands at her wrists.
"Relax. It’s just me, Willow. It’s..."
"Angel," she finished for him, recognizing his voice almost instantly. "How
did you know-"
"Ophelia," he replied, and it was then that Willow opened her eyes enough to
see Lia and Cordelia working at Doyle’s bonds. Angel quickly freed her,
then helped her to stand, checking to make sure the little redhead was okay.
"Doyle works with me, believe it or not. He once told Ophelia to come to
me if she ever thought she needed help..."
"Thank God," Willow whispered, turning to see Cordy helping Doyle up. She
walked over to the half demon; he was still pretty out of it, which was
really no surprise. From what Willow had seen, Doyle had taken a pretty
nasty blow to the head. She, on the other hand, had simply been drugged.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, Red." He reached up and brushed a stray hair from her cheek. "You?"
"Fine."
Doyle’s eyes left Willow’s face momentarily to meet the knowing gaze of his
friend. "Thanks, Angel."
"Thank me later. Right now, we need to get out of here."
The group of five headed upstairs and were in the main room of the bar when
the lights flashed on.
"Going somewhere?"
The group whirled around as one, and Lia was sickened by what she saw.
"Charly."
Part Fourteen
It was Charly, her boss, only... not. He was different, more gruesome if
that was possible. His skin and hair were greasy as usual, and he was still
grotesquely fat. However, his skin was no longer a sickly pallor.
It was green.
And scaly.
"Oh, God," Willow whispered.
"Not exactly, my dear," the demon that was her boss replied with a revolting
grin. "Now, I was only planning to kill you, Red. Then your little
boyfriend" -he nodded at Doyle- "got in the way the other night, and you
killed one of my men. Now, it seems I’ll have to kill all five of you." He
turned to Ophelia. "And it’s such a pity, too. I always did like you."
"You bastard," Lia hissed, furious.
"Such language." He turned to his minions - seven vampires. "Kill them
all, except for the redhead. She’s the sacrifice."
"Sacrifice?" Willow exclaimed. "Like hell I am! I did not survive eighteen
years on the Hellmouth to go to LA and end of some stupid demon’s
sacrifice!"
Cordelia screamed out a warning as the demon made a move towards Willow, but
the girl needn’t have worried. As Charly lunged for Willow, Angel grabbed
the redhead and pushed her to the ground, rolling as they went down so he
would take the brunt of the fall.
And that was all it took for the fight to begin.
The first vampire died quickly, having never seen the stake Lia had produced
from her jacket.
"Cordy, heads up!" she yelled, tossing a second stake in the brunette’s
direction. The other girl caught it, grateful for at least that small means
of protection. Cordelia screamed as a vampire tackled her, sending them
both to the ground. She immediately forced herself to relax, allowing the
vampire to think he had won. He leaned in toward her exposed throat, all
fangs and nasty breath. He never even saw Cordelia’s arm rise and fall. He
did, however, feel the stake that the brunette had forced through his back
and into his heart.
Two down.
Angel made quick work of the third. The vampire was, after all, a mere
minion. And Angel was still a master vampire, soul or not. With practiced
ease, he broke the minion’s neck, then staked him.
Doyle was rolling around on the floor with a vampire, trying to keep the
damn thing’s fangs from his throat with one hand while reaching for his
cross with the other. He thrust the cross straight into the vampire’s nose,
burning its flesh and distracting it long enough to retrieve a stake and
thrust it into its dead heart.
Four down.
Willow threw a barstool at the approaching vampire, hoping to halt its
progress long enough to find a weapon. Then she saw it. With a slight
grin, she stood motionless, letting the vampire approach her with a
victorious grin. Then she floated a piece of the wooden chair that Angel
had somehow managed to destroy right into the vampire’s
chest.
Five.
Seeing that Cordelia, Doyle, and Willow had the remaining vampires occupied
and that Angel was now facing off with Charly, Ophelia headed for the
kitchen, looking for a suitable weapon. There was no way a stake would work
against the thick skin on that demon. Finding her prize, the young woman
headed back into the main room, passing
Willow, who had just staked vamp number six, on the way.
Angel was tired. The demon was stronger than he had expected; under all
those rolls of fat, there actually was muscle. The two were rolling around
on the floor, fighting for dominance. They changed places once again, and
Angel found himself pinned to the ground, the demon’s hands around his
throat.
Apparently Charly hadn’t yet figured out that Angel was a vampire.
Then the pressure on his throat was gone, and Charly slumped forward.
Reacting quickly, the vampire shoved the demon off himself and sat up.
And saw the butcher knife sticking out of Charly’s back.
Angel looked up, surprised to see Lia standing there with her hand
extended. He took it, accepting her assistance as he stood. Taking a quick
glance at his surroundings, Angel was relieved to find that the others were
okay as well. Cordelia was rubbing a slightly bruised elbow, and Doyle was
standing with his arm around Willow’s shoulders. The vampire returned his
gaze to Ophelia, who merely quirked an eyebrow at him.
"We should probably go now. I think we’ve caused enough damage for one
night."
Part Fifteen
Ophelia winced as Angel cleaned the gash she had somehow sustained on her
forehead. His hands were cool, and his touch was incredibly gentle.
"Sorry about that," he muttered.
"It happens. I could have done this myself, you know."
"It’s easier to clean a wound you can see."
"All I’d need is-"
"Vampire. No mirrors," Angel reminded her.
"Oh, yeah. Seeing as how you don’t run around trying to kill people, it’s
kind of easy to forget about that."
"Oh." Angel paused, trying to figure out how to broach the subject on his
mind.
"What?"
"Hmmm?"
"Well, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dead, you have this look on your face. You know
the one. It’s the one people get when they want to say something, but
they’re not sure how. Just... spill it, okay?"
"What are you going to do now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I’m willing to bet your job’s gone."
Ophelia wrinkled her nose. "I did kill my boss. Probably wouldn’t get a
good recommendation. He deserved it, though."
"That he did," the vampire agreed. According to the records Willow and
Doyle had managed to hack into, several waitresses had disappeared from
Charly’s over the past several years, only to turn up dead a few days later.
The killings had looked like random stabbings, and Lia had suspected
nothing. She’d had no idea that her boss was a demon that needed a yearly
sacrifice in order to survive. She was just glad they had managed to find
Willow in time and put a stop to it for good.
"How about working for me?" Angel blurted out suddenly. Well, that was one
way of asking. The direct approach.
"Excuse me?"
"Well... look, I can’t pay much..."
"I don’t need it. I mean, if I needed money, would I be working at a place
like Charly’s? I’ve got a trust fund from my crazy Aunt Alice for money. I
worked at Charly’s because it was in a dangerous area. I could help people.
I could, on occasion, keep someone from getting killed."
"We do the same thing here. We help people who need it."
"And they pay you for it."
"Not always. In fact, half the time, we never see a cent."
"Why should I work for you?"
"You’re good. You’re fast; you’re smart on your feet. And I want you to
know you have someone to help you if you need it. And I want to know I have
someone to call on if I need help."
Ophelia sat in her spot on Angel’s desk, swinging her legs. "I’ll think
about it."
Deep down, she already knew her answer.
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Willow and Doyle watched as their friends talked. Doyle turned to the
redhead beside him.
"Do you thing she’ll go for it?" the half demon asked, already aware of what
Angel was saying to the girl.
Willow shrugged, then wrinkled her nose in that adorable way of hers. "I
don’t know... I think she will. I hope she will. She needs to be around
people more. Well, nice people, anyway. Not people like the jerks who go
to places like Charly’s. Present
company excluded, of course. You’re not a jerk."
Doyle’s heart sunk. Had Willow said that because she wouldn’t be around for
Ophelia anymore?
"Doyle, what’s wrong?"
"Are you going back to Sunnydale?" The words burst about before he could
stop them.
"Why? Do you... do you want me to?"
"No!" the half demon exclaimed vehemently, causing the redhead’s eyebrows to
raise in surprise.
"Okay... um, I don’t know when I’m leaving. Not for a while anyway, if at
all. I’m not ready to go back to Sunnydale. Maybe I will eventually. But
I’ve got a lot here. You, Ophelia, Angel, even Cordelia. I never knew it
was possible to miss someone like Cordy, but I actually managed to."
"Me?" Doyle questioned, still stuck on the redheaded witch’s first reason
for staying.
"Yes, you. I like you, Doyle. I want to get to know you better... I want
to see if what I feel when I’m with you is real. Okay, we usually end up in
a fight for our lives when we see each other, but hey, I guess that just
means there will always be some excitement in the relationship."
"I can think of other forms of excitement that are far less deadly."
"I bet you can," the redhead replied before she leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss was sweet, gentle, and full of promise. Willow smiled at Doyle as
the two separated. "I guess we should go tell the others."
Doyle started to nod, then caught sight of Cordelia standing in the doorway,
an amused grin on her face. "I think somebody already knows," he replied,
nodding in the brunette’s direction.
Cordelia came over to the pair, joining them at her desk. "I’m glad you’re
staying," she told the redhead without preamble or excuses for her
eavesdropping. "I was on total testosterone overload with these two. I
could use some female companionship. We could go shopping. Where are Angel
and Ophelia?"
Doyle nodded towards the other office, and the girls turned to see Ophelia
and Angel still talking, smiling tentatively at each other. Willow leaned
against Doyle, and the half demon wrapped his arms around her and grinned.
Cordelia let out a low, almost inaudible whistle before speaking.
"This could get very interesting."
The End
