RATING: PG
SETTING: A series of childhood memories, linking the Scooby gang together
for far longer than they ever expected.
DISCLAIMER: All characters are copyright Joss Whedon. May he forgive me for
the many sins I commit in their names.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For Tracy - Because she's our favorite other Goddess. And
for the Willfic list, Willow's in here, you just sometimes have to look for
her. And the series doesn't make much sense without all the parts.
by: Laura Smith and Amy
1738 -- Angelus
He liked the ocean. It was right near his town, barely two miles from his house, and so he would walk there every day, even in the winter to watch the waves turn white when they hit the rocks and the sand. His mother would make him bundle up, even in the spring, lest a cold caught him, she would say. He loved his mother.
And he would wear the heavy coats and gloves until he got there, when he would strip them off to leave him standing in his small waistcoat and trousers. Sometimes he would take off his shoes, too. And always, always, he would watch the people.
They were a strange sight sometimes. They would load on and off the ships, women in frilly dresses with skirts unlike his mother's and umbrellas to keep the sun away. Why would anyone want to avoid the sun? he would wonder. The sun would heat up, the breeze was always blowing, and made the air fresh and sweet smelling.
The men would be wearing top hats and tails, and he wondered about that, too. The village was a small one for a long time, what could these people want with it? Only they did come, and would look at him, with his dark, scraggly locks and twinkling eyes and dirty feet, like he was something horrible to behold.
He didn't like those ones.
But there were others, he found out. One day in the summer season, his mother announced that it was warm enough to go to the docks with no coat, and he ran into her skirts, pressing his face against her hip and she laughed and scooped him up, kissing him on the nose. "Ah, my little Angel," she whispered. He snuggled against her, for the first time since he had grown into his sixth year, and kissed her cheek, allowing himself to be the little boy that she loved.
Angelus was named for his father, but he thought that there could be worse things than being thought of as a heavenly creature. He had always wanted wings. His mother was the only one he would let call him Angel, and he only did that because she was so precious to him, working hard on their farm, under the guidance of his papa.
So, on that day, he ran to the docks, the sun beating down on his back and making him feel happy and alive and free and the wind was as soft as the hay he sometimes fed to the cows. He began skipping when he reached the docks, and the wood under his feet gave him small splinters, but he didn't mind. His mother said that he had hard feet and a hard head. And then she would laugh, and so would he, and he would agree with her. He wondered why she always laughed harder when he agreed.
Skidding to a stop, he sat on a nearby plank and began to assess the people who walked off the ships. There was one group, in particular, that caught Angelus' eye, and he watched them talk and laugh together. Angelus noticed that though they were dressed the same as the others who disembarked, they smiled a lot more.
They began walking in his direction, and he sat up a little straighter, noting that the little girl with hair of honey and huge blue eyes was watching him. There was also a little boy with hair of soil and another little girl with hair of fire. They held hands and walked with the first girl, occasionally looking over at him.
Angelus decided he didn't like the other boy. He kept sending mean stares his way.
The group of people stopped before him and the adults talked among themselves for a minute before the blue-eyed girl tugged on a woman's skirt. She spoke, and Angelus' heart thumped suddenly, even though he and his brother had vowed to hate girls forever. But her voice was soft and sweet and warm, like the honeysuckle patch he passed every day. The woman leaned down to hear what she was saying.
The little girl pointed to Angelus, and his eyes widened as she talked to her mother. "Mummy, perhaps this boy could point us in the right direction," she said with an air of sophistication he had rarely seen. And even though she looked at least a year younger than his seven, her voice seemed older, more practiced and cultured. And her mother nodded to the other adults and headed over to him with a smile.
He stood, suddenly worried about his appearance. Though his face was tanned, it was also dirty, and so were his feet and hands. He wiped them surreptitiously on his trousers. The group met him and the woman who had the same blue eyes as the little girl leaned down to smile at him.
"Would you perhaps know of an inn or cottage where our family could possibly rent some rooms for the night, young man?" she asked.
Angelus nodded. "Aye, I do. Would you like me to lead your way there?" he asked her politely, unconsciously following the lead of the little girl. The little girl beamed at him and her mother nodded warmly, as did the other adults.
"That would be quite nice, thank you. Is if far?"
He shook his head. "No farther than the edge of town, Missus."
He nodded in the direction he would be traveling and the group made sounds of pleased affirmation. He began to lead the way, relishing in the feel of being grown and having people follow him, and also the smell that suddenly invaded his nose.
Wait, smell? He turned to see the blue-eyed girl catching up to him quickly and yes, she was sending of a lovely fragrance as she tugged her friends with her. Apples, he thought, apples from an orchard blessed by the spring. She finally trotted up to him and charmed him with a sweet smile. "Good afternoon," she murmured.
"Aye, it 'tis. My name is Angelus," he offered after a moment. Her large eyes were distracting him.
"Annabelle," she replied. "It's nice to meet you. You're being very nice by taking us to the inn. These are my cousins," she said, gesturing to the boy and the girl beside her. He waited in silence for them to introduce themselves.
"William," the boy finally gave, somewhat sourly.
"Alexandria," the red-haired girl fairly whispered. He looked at her, surprised over her feathery, shy voice. All the redheads he knew had loud thoughts and an equally loud temper to match. Alexandria spoke again. "So did Annabuffy tell you why we were here?"
Angelus' eyebrows shot up, and he looked at Annabelle sideways. Annabuffy? Who was that? She noticed his gaze and giggled. "That's just what Alexandria calls me," she laughed. Trusting the dark eyed boy suddenly and openly, she confided, "Ever since I can remember, she called me that."
She giggled again, and Angelus' heart pounded. "I like it," he decided quickly. Her shining blue eyes were his reward and he understood suddenly why is papa looked at his mother like he did.
The boy spoke up. "What kind of a name for a boy is Angelus?" he asked.
Angelus started to speak, but was cut off by Annabelle. "It's a nice one. An angel name," she said, locking eyes with him, even as she shoved William in the ribs with her elbow in a most unladylike fashion. Another little girl made her way from behind the skirts and pants of the adults following him, and placed herself in place next to Angelus, almost pushing Annabelle in her haste.
"Hello," she cooed, her rich, dark hair shining in the sun. He took a step away from her, and found himself next to Annabelle again. He looked at her with a questioning glance and she lifted her shoulders helplessly.
"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce my other cousin," she said, annoyed. "This is Cora."
Cora stuck her hand out. "It's nice to meet you, Angel," she said softly. Angelus didn't really like her, but shook her hand anyway.
"Angelus," he immediately corrected, taking a glance at Annabelle through the corner of his eye. She was watching him talk to Cora, a little nervously he thought. Strangely enough, that gave him a warm feeling in his stomach.
Stepping towards Annabelle, he fell into step again and offered her his arm like a gentleman would have, or at least like his papa had told him that a gentleman would do. With delighted eyes, she took it, placing her small hand around his elbow and walking with him.
Angelus noticed that William playfully gave Alexandria his arm and watched as Cora got mad over this ignoring of her. She fell behind them, and he spoke no more to her.
They reached the inn, and Angelus looked at the nearing sign sadly. This meant that Annabelle would take her hand off his arm, and that he wouldn't get to talk to her. This meant that he wouldn't find out if Alexandria's voice could reach above a whisper, or if William could be friendly. He lowered his voice, so that only Annabelle could hear.
"'Tis it possible that you and your kin are staying a while?" he asked, hoping.
Slowly she shook her head. "No. Mother and Father and my aunts and uncles are leaving tomorrow morning, I think. We are meeting more of my family in three days time, and it's quite a journey by boat."
They stopped in front of the large brick building and he looked up to see Annabelle's mother looking at him fondly. "Thank you, young man, for your directions. Come, children," she commanded softly. Cora followed her immediately inside, sending a glare behind her, and William followed quickly after. Alexandria was next, but she sent him a soft smile and curled a tip of her hair around her finger.
"It was nice meeting you, Angelus," she said in a regular voice. He grinned, flashing white teeth against the tan skin of his face.
"Oh, but the pleasure was mine," he replied, fast friends with her, even as she turned to walk away. The adults walked indoors and he was left alone with Annabelle.
She twirled some hair around her finger, much in the same manner than her cousin had. "I hope to see you again someday, Angel..."
His heart sped up, and he didn't correct her, for he found that he liked the sound of that nickname coming from her lips. She looked at her hand, which was still resting on his arm, and finally took it away, and Angelus couldn't account for the sudden loss he felt.
"And I as well, Anna... Buffy," he murmured. Her smile shone brilliantly, and he was glad at his choice in using that name. Being most scandalous, hoping that her Mum wouldn't look out the door and see her acting in such a manner, she leaned forward and gently brushed his cheek with her lips.
She pulled back, and Angelus lifted his hand to his cheek, his heart pounding in a strange and new and crazy way. Annabelle stepped back, blushing and sprinted into the inn.
He stood and watched the building for a long time, wishing he could go inside and see this new girl again, but at last he turned and walked quickly over the moors to his own little cottage. He wanted to see his mother, but knew that he wouldn't tell her about this interesting thing that had happened to him.
Every day after that summer season, he awoke early and ran down to the docks, hoping that Annabelle and her family would be on one of the ships and see him, talk to him. They never were, and after the summer season ended, he began to forget about the pretty girl with large blue eyes and warm lips. He still would visit the docks, but after years had gone by, he didn't remember what he was hoping to see, or what drew him there.
But he always went, and the docks were always waiting for him.