SUMMARY: What if Spike's boys hadn't shown up at the docks and Angel had gotten on the boat in Surprise? Sillyfic.
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Joss, UPN, Fox. Not me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't think this is exactly following the assignment, but there is a shipwreck so I thought it was close enough. < g >
Overboard
by Rebecca Carefoot
Angel: I gotta catch a cargo ship to Asia, maybe trek to Nepal...
Buffy: You know, those newfangled flying machines really are much safer than they used to be.
Angel: I can't fly. There's no sure way to guard against the daylight. I-I-I don't like this any more than you do, Buffy. But there's no other choice. - Surprise
*
Angel sat in his small quarters below deck. The one bare lightbulb above him swayed with the motion of the boat, and flickered, throwing strange elongated shadows against the bare walls, the cot, the wooden box that held The Judge's arm. He sat on the hard surface of the cot, his head bowed, his eyes on the glittering silver of the claddaugh on his finger.
He had no idea how where he was going, or how long this voyage would be. How long he would be separated from Buffy. It was only three days at sea, and he missed her with a physical ache that grew inside his chest. Three days, and it could be years before this mission was done. By the time he returned, if he returned, everything could change. Buffy could find someone else. He closed his eyes. It was his choice to do this, and it could mean he'd lose her. But how could he do otherwise? Who else could make sure the arm was hidden somewhere it would never be found?
The cargo boat swayed, wooden sides creaking, then tipped suddenly to the other side. Angel looked up, his eyes narrowed. He could hear faint yelling, and the clatter of footsteps. There was another loud, distressed creak, a sudden buck that tossed him out of the cot, and an explosion of water as the wall split open and a piece of wood slammed into his head, stunning him. Salt water roared into the tiny cabin, and Angel ducked down under the quickly rising water levels. He swam the few strokes to the wooden box and grabbed it, then swam for the door to his cabin. Without the need to breathe, drowning was no worry. But he couldn't allow himself to be dragged up to the surface. It was the middle of the day and the sun would be setting the ocean ablaze with light. He couldn't pull the door open against the pressure of the water on the other side, the hallway must have been filled already.
He glared at the wall of his cabin, as it was forced farther apart.
The door groaned, then burst inward, and he pulled himself out into the submerged hallway. He tried to swim with one hand, holding the box with the other, then changed his mind and found an iron lever attached to some machinery. He grabbed on to it, and waited as the ship continued to sink. If he could just stay here, inside the ship until nightfall, then he'd be able to swim up to the surface and find his way in the dark.
A current pulled at him, lifting his feet into the air. He kept his one-handed grip on the box, but the pressure was too great. He closed his eyes against the rush of water and debris, and then the lever broke off in his hand, and he was rushing down the hall. He tried to right himself, but he was already through a split wall, tumbling out into the open sea. He grabbed for the wreckage but he was already rising, the box lifting him toward the surface. He dropped it too late.
He broke the surface, staring up into the white light of the sun, and his skin began to burn.
"Oh, fu-"
end
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