"Happy New Year"
Author: DH Artemis
Email: dhartemis@hotmail.com
Spoilers: Through "Something Blue" and "Hero". ("The Initiative" and "I
Will Remember You" are particularly important.) "Hush" and any episodes following
it do not apply to this story.
Notes: This story was written in response to Felicity's Millennium contest
and a sincere desire not to write a ten page case study. I wrote ten pages
of fanfic instead. =) I wanted to post this before "Hush" so it wouldn't get
Jossed, but ... oh, well. Too late.
"I still don't understand why you're doing this."
"I know you don't. But I don't think that explaining it to you for the eighteenth time will be any more successful than explanations one through seventeen, so I give up. You don't get it. I accept that and love you anyway." Buffy sat in front of the mirror at her desk, her mouth full of bobby pins and her hands weaving a delicate plait through her hair. Xander watched in fascination as every few moments she would pause, remove a pin from her mouth, glare at it, and then make it disappear somewhere in the braid. As she finally secured the end of the braid, leaving the rest hanging in long curls down her back, Xander flopped down on his back on Willow's bed. His head hung over the edge as he looked up at Buffy, and his puppy dog expression was all the more comical because it was upside down.
"But I don't accept it. Tell me again."
Buffy stood and started examining her reflection from every angle. "No." The deep maroon spaghetti-strap dress she wore was made of slightly shiny material, and as she turned a slit was visible to mid-thigh on the left side.
"Pwease?" Xander's lower lip jutted out, and his brown eyes were round and pleading, though his eyebrows raised slightly in appreciation of the sight of Buffy in the full-length dress.
Finally satisfied with her appearance, Buffy laughed at his expression as she pulled a wrap around her shoulders and walked towards the door. "Fine. I am going with Angel to a charity fundraising dance in L.A. because said dance is most likely going to be attacked by a bunch of really nasty apocalypse- type demons. There are too many of them for Angel to handle alone, Cordelia is on location in Vegas shooting a commercial for a casino and can't really fight anyway, and Angel's police contacts aren't able to help because of general Y2K confusion and mayhem. He bailed me out of a hairy fight in Sunnydale last Thanksgiving; I'm going to return the favor for New Year's in Los Angeles. Satisfied?"
"No. Buffy, demons in L.A. aren't your prerogative, you have a boyfriend --"
"He's not my boyfriend," Buffy interrupted.
"--semi-boyfriend," Xander continued without missing a beat, "who is extremely disappointed you aren't spending New Year's with him, and every time you get a glimpse of Angel you spend the next three weeks moping and glaring at any man who crosses your path. I don't want you to get hurt." Xander sat up again and grinned. "Besides, you really suck at under cover stuff."
At the sudden change in persuasion tactics, Buffy laughed and sat next to him on the bed, squeezing his hand. "I really do. But dressing up and dancing I can handle. And I am fully prepared to see Angel and NOT mope -- this is a business trip only."
"Right," Xander scoffed. "You'll be just fine pretending to be Angel's date for the evening, talking and dancing and pretending to be a couple. It won't drive you crazy when the fighting is over and you shake hands and drive back to Sunnydale alone. Hey, and there's another point against going," he continued, on a roll. "You're a terrible driver. That's probably the most dangerous part of this whole plan. At least let someone go with you."
Buffy chuckled again as she stood. "You've never even seen me drive," she protested. "And anyway, Riley took me driving a few weeks ago and I didn't kill anyone. I want everyone to have a nice, normal New Year's. I'm not dragging anyone else with me to fight." Buffy moved again toward the door, picking up her purse full of weapons and checking that the knife and stakes she had concealed in the wrap were secure. "Besides, there isn't anyone who could be that much help. I gather we're going to spend most of the evening swordfighting."
"Sure, and Giles has no experience with that," Xander pointed out. "I bet Riley is a pretty good fighter, too, even without swords."
"Riley has no idea that I'm the Slayer, and I'm not going to tell him unless and until I absolutely have to. Besides, I can't imagine anything scarier than having Riley and Angel in the same room." Buffy shuddered a little at the thought, adding under her breath, "I'd rather resurrect the Master again. And Giles is going to stay in Sunnydale and keep an eye on the Hellmouth, just in case. Now I have to go. And you better go get ready so you can pick Anya up on time. You never know what demon contacts she still has." She paused with her hand on the door. "Tell everyone Happy New Year from me. And don't worry," she commanded mock-severely as she pulled the door shut behind her.
"Sure," he announced to the empty room. "Easier said than done." Then he picked up his jacket and keys and headed out the door.
"Tell me this isn't happening," Forrest moaned as he made his way across the catwalk and down into the testing facility. "Because I was on my way to the best New Year's party with the hottest girl ..."
"Yeah, who wasn't?" Graham countered easily. "They wouldn't call us down here unless it was important."
"Don't be so sure," Forrest replied darkly. "Walsh just wants us all to suffer. Besides, Riley's the one without a date. How come he can't handle it himself?"
Riley, who had listened to this conversation in brooding silence, spoke for the first time. "Shut up, Forrest."
"You're just sore because Buffy would rather spend New Year's with her father in L.A. than smooching with ..."
"I said can it, Agent," Riley interrupted sharply as they reached the command station. He turned to Professor Walsh. "Situation?"
"Gentlemen, Hostile Group A7 has abandoned their base in the area. Agent Team C had been sent to capture them this afternoon when they discovered the cave empty, and they're currently tracking A7 heading north. Apparently whatever they were planning is going to happen sooner than expected, and we need to prevent it. I want them all tagged and brought back here before morning. Agent Finn, you're in charge."
Riley turned to face the group of assembled troops. "All right, men, let's get to work."
"Happy New Year!"
Willow stood on Giles' porch and gazed incredulously at the party hat on his head, the confetti he had thrown dusting her hair and shoulders. "Wow, Giles, this overdoing the holiday stuff is becoming a tradition," she announced as she stepped inside. "I thought you didn't wear party hats," she teased, shrugging out of her jacket.
Giles followed her inside, closing the door behind them. "Yes, well ..." he stammered, as Willow took in the streamers and balloons that decorated the living room. "Xander and Anya should arrive momentarily."
"It's too bad Buffy and Riley couldn't come," she commented. They were both silent for a moment, and Oz's absence was an almost palpable presence in the room. Willow absently opened the container she was holding, pulling out a brownie and taking a large bite. Giles watched with sympathetic eyes, but said nothing.
They were both startled by a loud knock, but Anya entered the living room with Xander in tow before Giles could rise to answer the door. Xander smiled apologetically. "At least knocking first is an improvement," he said sheepishly, nodding toward Anya as the pair hung their coats up and added their contributions to the pile of munchies on the table. "Buffy said to tell everyone Happy New Year. And by the way, I still can't believe she's ditching us to help Angel."
"What else could she do, Xander?" Willow questioned. "She was as surprised as anybody else when Angel called. And she felt really bad breaking her date with Riley."
"Yes, well, the Brotherhood of Lorknar are a force to be reckoned with," Giles said. "I've been looking into them since Buffy informed me of the situation, and it's well to have the two of them there to fight. Particularly nasty demons, according to most accounts. It is certainly unfortunate that a convention center was built over the remnants of Lorknar's tomb." Giles picked up a book that was sitting in front of him, thumbing through to find the correct page. "But according to their legends, only twelve can participate in the ritual to open the tomb that is to take place tonight, so Buffy and Angel should be able to handle it."
As he went to set the book down Willow took it from his hand, glancing through the passages he had been reading. She became thoroughly engrossed in the text, and didn't hear the knock at the door or even look up when a puzzled Giles went to answer it. When she spoke, she continued to stare intently at the pages and concern colored her voice. "Giles, I'm not sure about this. It says twelve here, but I'm not sure it means twelve demons." She finally looked up, expecting to see Giles standing in the doorway.
Which he was. But he wasn't alone. Willow's book fell quietly to the floor, and her jaw nearly did the same. Oz stood slightly in front of Giles, gazing at her with a soft but worried smile. "Hi, Willow."
Willow blinked a few times, then hurtled across the room and into his arms, a single tear already rolling down her cheek. Oz held her, breathing in the scent of her hair and softly stroking her back. "Shh, shhh, it's okay," he murmured. "I'm home." Willow pulled back and gave him a quivery smile.
"Hi," she finally managed, and her smile grew brighter though the tears continued to fall.
"So does this mean we don't hate him anymore?" Anya queried from the couch, looking slightly disinterested. At Xander's pointed look, she became thoroughly interested in the chips and salsa in front of her. "At least Willow will stop whining and moping now," she muttered.
Oz looked slightly stricken at this comment, but was interrupted from his guilt by a soft kiss from Willow. "I'm glad you're back," she whispered. She continued to hold on to him tightly, as if she were afraid he would leave again if she broke contact.
"Wow, Will, I can't breathe," he smiled. The two moved into the living room, sharing the chair Willow had previously occupied alone. Giles followed them in.
Xander stared at the pair incredulously. "That's it? Welcome home? Don't worry, nobody minds that he ripped Willow's heart out and stomped on it as long as he's sorry?"
"Xander ...." Giles tried to intervene.
"No," Xander cut him off flatly. "This is ridiculous." Anya tried to place a restraining hand on his arm, but he shook her off brusquely as he stared accusingly at Oz. "Aren't you even gonna say anything?"
"No. You're right, man." Oz took a deep breath and looked straight at Willow, though he still spoke to Xander. "... but it's not up to you."
Willow glanced uncertainly between the two most important men in her life, deliberating. Finally, she reached out and touched Xander's shoulder lightly, while her other hand found Oz's and squeezed it reassuringly. "Xander, I know you want to protect me ..." Anya looked disgruntled, so Willow turned back to address Oz, "and I know we have a lot to talk about. A lot," she repeated more resolutely. "But it's New Year's Eve -- can't we just all be together for tonight? For old time's sake?"
Oz smiled and brought her hand to his lips, while Xander nodded slowly, relaxing back into the couch cushions with Anya, though he still cast suspicious glances at the other couple from time to time.
After a few moments Giles broke the silence. "I hate to interrupt the reunion," he started apologetically, "but were you saying something Willow? Before?"
"Oh, right." Willow paused, trying to drag her mind back to demons and away from Oz. "Oh. Trouble." She picked up the book she had dropped and pointed to a particular phrase. "Giles, this part's a little smudged, and my Latin is shaky, but I don't think it says 'twelve demons.' I think it means 'twelve legions.' "
Giles put his glasses on and squinted at the page with a growing feeling of dread. "We need to get to Los Angeles immediately," he announced, and started pulling weapons from his trunk and distributing them, taking off his party hat at the same time. Within moments the entire group was on their feet and struggling into their coats as Giles grabbed a few more books from his bookcase.
"I'll drive, " Oz offered as they headed for the door. "What's going on?"
"I'll get the food," Anya announced, putting down the mace and chain Giles had given her. Xander shrugged and picked it up as she filled her arms with treats, ignoring the incredulous looks the rest were giving her. "What? I'm hungry.
Buffy smoothly put the car in park and turned off the ignition. "Ta-da!" she announced to the empty car. "I drove two hours and didn't get in an accident. Mom would be so proud -- if she knew I took her car, that is." Buffy paused a moment to be thankful that her mother was on an art-buying expedition in China, then took another moment to try to calm her rapidly beating heart, which had sped up alarmingly the closer she got to Angel's apartment. Could he hear heartbeats? She chastised herself distantly for never thinking to ask just how keen vampire hearing could be. Taking a deep breath, she locked the car and headed inside. From the empty foyer she could see Angel in his office reading a book, his feet propped on the corner of the desk, facing away from her. He looked up as he heard the click of the doorknob, but didn't turn around.
"Come on in," he whispered, when she hesitated. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering whatever courage he could before he faced her. As she sat in the chair across from him, he opened his eyes and turned around. His voice caught in his throat as he looked at her, and his eyes became unfocused as he heard her voice echo in his mind. 'I'll never forget ...' He could still feel her tears against his neck. He blinked, forcing himself back to the present, and smiled tightly at her. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem," she shrugged, her eyes wandering curiously around the room. She hadn't taken the time to explore the last time she was in his office. She was very careful NOT to notice how incredible Angel looked in a tux.
"I'm sure you had other plans," he protested mildly. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you."
"Really, it's no trouble," she insisted, rising impatiently. "Should we go?"
He nodded, and gestured to the back door. "I'll drive."
Fifteen minutes later the silence in the car was deafening. Angel's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and Buffy nervously opened and closed the latch of her purse over and over again. Finally, she turned toward him, though he continued to stare straight ahead at the road. "Cordelia told us about Doyle. I'm sorry."
He nodded, but didn't speak for a moment. Eventually, he managed, "I'm sorry this is so awkward. I shouldn't have asked you to come. If there weren't so many of them ..." He couldn't admit to himself that he had extended the invitation as much out of longing to see her again as out of need for backup.
"I know," she agreed. "It's just really confusing being around you," she admitted quietly. "It's harder than I expected."
Angel almost smiled. De ja vu just isn't what it used to be. He wondered if he continued his part if Buffy would say exactly the same things she had said to him in the sewer during the 24 hours that never were. I've got to stop dwelling on this. He was both tempted and repelled by the idea of telling her what had happened, and it clouded everything he thought of to say to her. It was too soon to see her again; he hadn't had enough time to start letting go of the unbearable loss of her last visit.
He was silent for so long that Buffy assumed he wasn't going to reply, but he finally whispered, "It's more than confusing. It's unbearable." Her expression reflected the pain those words caused, but this time he didn't try to explain. The drive continued in silence as they reached the convention center. Angel took her arm as the valet drove away with the car, and pulled a gilt-edged invitation from his breast pocket and presented it to the security guard. "Brian Jensen of Jensen International Holdings," he said briskly. The guard looked over his list and nodded, allowing them through.
When they were out of earshot, Buffy looked at Angel and stifled a laugh. "Brian?"
"I already had the business cards," he shrugged. "And the company name made it easier to get on the guest list. We look a little too young to be part of this crowd." She laughed without humor; it was obvious to both of them that he meant 'you' when he said 'we.' "You could always say you were the daughter of one of the businessmen here. Whatever helps," he finished.
"Do I have a different name too? Brian?" she asked with a smile.
"Yes," he answered shortly, as he opened the door for her that led to the grand ballroom. "It's 'and guest'." She grinned at his uncharacteristic joke, and the tension was broken. They paused just inside the doorway, both absorbing the grandeur of the room and cataloging the number of exits, windows, civilians, and other tactical information. Through the crowds of people, Buffy noted the large clock by the stage counting down to the year 2000, and a row of enormous bay windows along the same wall.
Buffy took a deep breath. "We can do this."
"Sure," Angel agreed automatically, his eyes still sweeping the room. "It's only twelve demons."
"No," she clarified. "Be together without going crazy." She slipped her arm through his and they made their way to the dance floor.
The only sounds in Oz's van were occasional crunching noises from the back seat as Anya worked her way through a bag of Oreos. The rest of the group had settled into an alert but comfortable silence, and their individual fears about the upcoming conflict were tempered by the overall familiarity of the situation.
By eleven o'clock they were close to the convention center, and began finalizing their battle plans. "So, Giles, exactly how many demons are there in a legion? Twenty? One hundred? Three? Please say three," Xander begged good-naturedly. "Because otherwise, short of another rocket launcher, we could be in serious trouble."
"I thought a legion was several thousand," Willow offered helpfully from the front seat.
"Yes, in Roman times a legion of soldiers was between three and six thousand men, traditionally," Giles concurred, and paused just long enough for everyone's hearts to sink into their stomachs. "However," he shuffled his books around so that an even older and more tattered book was on top of the pile, using a penlight to read from its pages, "the prophecies of Lorknar were written long before that time period and then translated into Latin. From my research into the original text, I believe 'legion' was somewhat of a mistranslation of the word 'legznesr' in the demon's own language."
"Giles, we only have about forty-five minutes until we're going to MEET all of these demons face to face. Can we finish the history lesson later? How many is a leshner?" Xander asked impatiently, earning him a severe look from Giles both for his impatience and for his hopeless garbling of the word.
"It could be any number, really, since I don't have any means of translating that particular demon language. From the description of the ritual, I would surmise somewhere around ten."
"There's going to be over one hundred demons there? You people are so dead," Anya tossed in her two cents.
"Us people?" Willow questioned. "What about you?"
"Let's face it, in a fight to the death the four of you will all try to be noble and stay to help each other until you all get killed. Being much more practical, I'll cut my losses and run if we're obviously going to lose," Anya explained candidly, eliciting a dirty look from Xander. "What?"
"I thought you said dying together would be romantic," he protested.
"Sure. But surviving would be much less painful. Humans feel a lot of pain. I don't like it."
The group sat quietly a moment before Giles cleared his throat and put on his glasses, saying, "Yes, well, fleeing in terror aside, I think we ought to have some idea what we're going up against." His penlight made a soft click as he turned it back on. "The most efficient way to kill an acolyte of Lorknar ..."
"Team Charlie, do you copy, this is Initiative Team Alpha, please report." Riley spoke quietly into his radio, the rest of the troops in the carrier sat in deadly silence.
"Copy Team Alpha. Hostile Group A7 is traveling through underground tunnels in the metropolitan Los Angeles area, and appear to be heading toward an unknown target. All ten members are present and accounted for. Estimate arrival time at roughly 23:30 hours."
"Roger that. All units proceed to designated flanking coordinates." As he prepared to sign off, Riley was surprised when his radio crackled to life again.
"Come in Team Alpha, this is Team Charlie. Other hostile groups have been spotted en route to rendezvous with A7. Intercept location appears to be Whedon Convention Center. A New Year's Eve Party is in progress at that location, repeat, numerous civilians in the area. Estimated hostile group size now fifty to sixty."
Riley stared at his radio for a moment, as if waiting for Team C to call back and tell him it was all a joke. "Damn."
Buffy and Angel spent two hours of relative peace and companionship, enjoying the party and trying to avoid mingling as much as possible without appearing anti-social, in order to keep the odds of their phony identities and questionable invitation being discovered to a minimum. Although there were several hundred people in attendance, most seemed to be at least superficially familiar with each other.
"Let's face it," Buffy commented early in the evening. "The less I talk to people the better the chance that I won't blow it." The dance floor was a perfect way to avoid people, and they spent most of their evening there. Dancing, Angel thought, was also a perfect way to be able to hold her, feel her skin, smell her hair, without feeling like he was blatantly violating his self-imposed exile from her. Buffy did her best not to think at all, simply luxuriating in the crush of his arms around her and the pressure of his hand on the bare skin of her back. She tried not to notice that he held her a little more tightly than their current relationship called for, or that her skin tingled at every point of contact.
"So far so good," Buffy smiled up at Angel during a slow dance late in the evening. "Maybe the demons changed their mind about the whole apocalypse thing. It's already eleven thirty and nothing unexpected has happened."
A voice not too far away caught their attention. "Buffy?! Is that you?"
Buffy stared incredulously at the tall figure making his way towards them. "DAD?"
"You just had to say it, didn't you," Angel muttered. "'Nothing unexpected has happened.' Have you learned nothing about fate?" Buffy and Angel broke apart nervously as Hank Summers approached them.
"What are you doing here?" father and daughter queried at the same time.
"I'm here representing my company," Hank explained. "They made a sizable donation to the foundation." He looked at her expectantly, glancing at Angel.
Buffy looked flustered for a moment, then managed, "Dad, this is, ... Brian Jensen. His, uh, company is part of the foundation too. He's an old friend from Sunnydale," she finished quickly.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Summers," Angel said smoothly, and the two men shook hands quickly.
Hank looked dubiously at the obviously older man escorting his daughter, then turned back to Buffy. "So, how did you two met? And why didn't you tell me you were in L.A.? We could have met for dinner."
"I didn't know I was coming until yesterday," Buffy replied honestly, neatly sidestepping both the spoken and unspoken questions about Angel. "I just assumed you already had plans. Which you did," she pointed out, looking around the ballroom. The clock on the podium read 11:35. If something was going to happen tonight, she had twenty-five minutes to get her father away from it. "You know, Dad, this party is really dead. I bet you really want to get home, beat traffic. Ang -- Brian and I have to stay because we're ... here with a group from his company, but I bet he could drop me off at your place as soon as this is over. Why don't you head home and I'll meet you there?" she asked hopefully.
"Honey, the New Year is in twenty minutes. I think I can survive until then."
The end of his sentence was nearly drowned out by the sound of breaking glass. "We can only hope," Buffy muttered, as Angel tensed beside her. "Dad, I've gotta go."
Leaving her confused father behind, Buffy and Angel moved swiftly toward the commotion that was beginning on the east side of the room. Angel jumped easily onto the edge of the stage and pulled Buffy up behind him. From their vantage point, they could see through the shattered bay windows to the parking lot below. Angel stopped short. "Buffy, we've got problems."
"What?" she questioned, but then moved to his side to peer out the window. "Wow. Offhand, I'd say that 'twelve demons' would be an understatement."
"Yeah," he agreed tightly, accepting the stake she handed him without bothering to comment on its probable uselessness. Instead, he pulled out a small battle axe that had been strapped to his back under his jacket. He watched the horde of demons as they formed symmetrical columns underneath the window, moonlight glinting off their silver helmets and curved fangs. Most carried no weapons; their sharp claws looked sufficiently deadly, and their mottled green skin had a hard, shell-like appearance over most of their bodies. The lighter tone of their faces, necks, and chests looked a little more vulnerable, but it wasn't much to work with, especially with the helmets for protection. Angel watched grimly as more and more demons appeared to swell the ranks. "That's more like one hundred and twelve."
"Team C, what is your position?"
"Sir, we are in flanking position around the Whedon Convention Center, monitoring approximately one hundred and twenty hostiles who are gathered on the east side."
Riley stared at his radio in frustration. Six to one wasn't particularly encouraging odds, but it was the best he could do at the moment. Forrest leaned in to be heard over the roar of the truck.
"Do we have any artillery coming?"
Riley shook his head. "None of the heavy stuff is in the area, but B Team has the first prototypes of the demon-specific hand grenades."
"Do they work?" Graham asked.
"Sometimes," Riley shrugged. "They're still working on minimizing the human injuries and property damage." Their transport pulled to a stop, and the ten members of Teams A and B joined Team C in the gardens and shrubbery surrounding the building, gaining their first glimpse of the assembled Brethren of Lorknar.
"Holy s --" Forrest was interrupted mid-curse by the sound of breaking glass. "Sir, we're out of time."
Riley was already running toward the building, weapon in one hand and radio in the other. "All Units, attack pattern Delta. I want everyone in masks. Avoid being seen when possible, but the safety of the civilians is our first priority. Go!"
Buffy and Angel stood tensely on the stage, waiting for the demons to make the first move. So intent was their concentration that it took Buffy several seconds to realize someone was calling her name. "Buffy! HEY, BUFFY!!!"
"Willow?" she turned her head a fraction of an inch, keeping one eye on the broken window as she searched for the source of the sound. She caught sight of her friend pushing through the crowd, with the rest of the group struggling to keep up with her. "Angel, go help the others. Maybe they found some amazing spell to stop this. I'll stay here in case they attack."
Angel nodded brusquely, then leapt lightly off the stage. The crowd seemed to melt in front of him, and he soon reached her. Out of breath, Willow managed, "Lots more demons ... twelve legions ..."
He interrupted her mid-gasp. "They're already here. Any idea how to get rid of this many?"
She shook her head apologetically, her breathing returning to its normal pace. "Nope, just thought you should know." At the same instant the demons attacked, pouring through the broken bay windows. The pair turned back toward the stage to see Buffy alternately punching and kicking four of the green-scaled creatures.
"You and the others start getting all these people out of here, and tell Giles we need swords or knives -- preferably silver. Go!" Without waiting to make sure she followed his directions, Angel turned back toward the stage and plunged into the spreading melee.
Buffy was the first to notice the commandos joining the fight. "Angel, we've got trouble!"
"You just noticed?" he yelled back, grunting as his axe neatly removed the head of the nearest monster. They were hopelessly outnumbered, but the monsters were more preoccupied with setting up their ritual than with fighting, and there were never enough demons attacking at once to overwhelm them.
"Those army guys -- I think they followed me from Sunnydale." Buffy stopped speaking for a moment as she took a vicious jab to the stomach. She retaliated by plunging her dagger through the offending demon's heart. As the next demon attacked, she called out, "We don't know who they are or -- oof -- what they want."
Angel watched as a wave of troops crashed through the windows, leaving the remaining demon masses wedged between him and them in the rapidly thinning crowd. The troops immediately began hand to hand combat, occasionally resorting to guns or tasers to slow the demons down, though the bullets couldn't kill them. "Looks like they're on our side for now," Angel yelled, but when he glanced up he could no longer see Buffy, who was moving deeper through the mob to get a better look at the soldiers.
Riley pushed futilely against the arms of the demon that had him by the neck, purple spots adding variety to the green world he saw through his goggles. Reaching behind him, he pulled a pistol from his belt and shot the demon twice, causing it enough pain for him to break its hold and stab it through the heart. As it slumped to the floor, he pulled off his mask and goggles, gasping for air as he scanned the room for his next target.
In a moment of supreme luck, no living demons were close enough to attack him as his eyes fell on Buffy fighting ten feet away and his jaw dropped. He stared in utter shock and confusion as she caught a sword thrown to her by a middle-aged man and used it to neatly decapitate TWO of the green monsters. Her eyes immediately began sweeping for another target, and in Riley's state of amazement he couldn't get his mask back on before she saw him. "RILEY?" At that moment both were tackled from behind and forced to rejoin the battle.
Long minutes later Forrest managed to get close enough to Riley to make a report. "It's taking too long," he announced between punches. "There's still at least forty left, and they're setting something up in the middle -- probably whatever ritual Walsh was trying to decipher. And there's a vampire here killing them, too," he nodded to where Angel was snarling and breaking necks, game face now fully evident.
"He's not the only one," Riley replied, jerking his chin briefly toward Buffy.
"WHOA. Isn't that ..."
"Get B Team to move to point position," Riley interrupted, gesturing briefly to his smashed radio as explanation. "We'll have to try the grenades. Order them not to fire unless all civilians are clear, just in case."
Forrest had already begun relaying the message when Riley finished speaking. The party-goers who had inhabited the ballroom just over twenty minutes before were almost completely gone, with Willow and Oz escorting the last towards a clear exit. Quickly assessing the situation, Riley nodded to Forrest, who sent the order out in a burst of static.
The soldiers were scrambling towards the outer edges of the room as the first pin was pulled, and Riley looked frantically at the area where he had last seen Buffy. His eyes fell on the stage's New Year Countdown display, which was swiftly reaching the end of its inexorable march. Too late, he saw Buffy thrown toward the center of the room by one of the monsters. "NO!" he roared.
3, 2, 1 ... A blinding flash prevented him from seeing anything else.
Angel, on the opposite side of the room, took in the entire situation a split second sooner. Not waiting to see what kind of weapon the commandos were using, he dove toward Buffy and pulled her back with him, the momentum carrying them both through a glass door in a dizzying pile of arms and legs. The grenade exploded as they landed, and Angel managed to pull himself on top of Buffy to shield her from whatever was coming. When the thunderous roar subsided, he calmed enough for his face to return to normal and propped himself up on his elbows so he could see her face. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, a little dazed, and made no effort to get up yet. "Happy New Year, Angel."
He smiled briefly. Bringing one hand up to push the hair out of her eyes, he whispered, "Happy New Year," as he leaned down to kiss her. It wasn't a long kiss, but in it he managed to convey all his love, passion, frustration, and acceptance. He broke away suddenly, as if forced, and rolled off of her and onto his feet. He reached down and helped her up, letting go of her hand as soon as she regained her balance, then turned his back on her and walked into the ballroom to survey the damage.
"Where did she go?" Riley asked urgently, blinking as his eyes readjusted after the glare of the explosion. Around him, members of his team were busy capturing the few demons who had survived the blast, while others started basic first aid on the commandos who had been injured.
Graham came up behind him, announcing, "A few of the guys have minor burns from the grenade; looks like they need a little more work before they're completely safe for humans. No property damage, though, so that part worked." He stopped short as he saw the look on Riley's face. "What's wrong?"
"I can't find her." He could see the entire room clearly, and she wasn't anywhere. But she couldn't have just disappeared. The sound of crunching glass behind him made him turn, and he saw a man in a black tuxedo entering the room through a side door. Vampire, his mind clicked, and he trained his pistol on the demon, pulling a stake from his belt with his other hand. "Don't move!" Without waiting for explanations, Graham leveled a crossbow at him as well.
Angel stood quietly, watching as the other soldiers efficiently started removing all evidence of the demon invasion. "I'm not going to hurt you." As Riley moved closer, a startled look crossed Angel's face, and it was all he could do not to gape as he realized that this was the same kid he had seen talking to Buffy the day before Thanksgiving.
Before Riley could reach Angel, Buffy entered the ballroom, trying to smooth the wrinkles in her torn and slightly scorched dress. In a flash she was between them, standing protectively in front of Angel, who looked slightly affronted and moved to stand beside her. Riley pointed his gun at the floor, away from Buffy, but kept a firm grip on the stake. Across the room, Willow, Oz, Giles, Xander and Anya (who had stayed to the end of the fight after all) entered the ballroom, laughing and chatting. At Willow's frantic gesture, they all quieted and watched the scene before them with interest. "Look, it's Buffy's worst nightmare," Xander commented in a hushed voice, trying to hear what Buffy was about to say.
"Riley... " she began, the stopped abruptly. She had no idea what to say to him. "I don't really know what you're doing here, but you can put those away. Angel isn't a threat to you."
On the other side of the room, Willow couldn't help an ironic chuckle. "That depends on how you look at it," she muttered.
The trio involved in the armed standoff didn't hear her. Buffy fingered the hilt of the knife she still held, but kept it at her side. Riley just looked confused. Angel watched the conversation between them with morbid fascination, but didn't interfere.
"Buffy, he's a vampire -- I saw him earlier. Now there's obviously a lot you haven't told me, but I know how to deal with this. Just back away." Riley took another step forward, and Buffy's posture became more defensive.
"I have a lot of secrets?" she asked incredulously. "I'm not the one patrolling campus in fatigues and crashing a demon convention with heavy artillery."
"No, you just have a sword," he countered.
"Look, Riley, Angel IS a vampire, but he has a soul. He's one of the good guys, trust me. We go way back." Sensing Angel's smothered amusement, she glared at him briefly, then turned her attention back to Riley's stake and Graham's crossbow. She moved forward slowly, keeping eye contact.
"Demons don't HAVE souls." Riley's voice held a note of uncertainty, and he lowered the stake a fraction of an inch. Buffy reached out and placed her hand on his arm, smiling at him reassuringly.
"I'll explain later, I promise. Just trust me, please?" With a confused sigh, Riley dropped the stake, nodding at Graham, who shouldered his crossbow and moved to help the others agents. The work was progressing rapidly, and they had almost returned the ballroom to its original state, barring the broken furniture and windows. No demons were visible, living or dead.
Buffy exhaled, relieved, and then looked uncomfortably between Riley and Angel, who were both eyeing each other with suspicion, though for different reasons. Could this night get any weirder? "Riley, this is Angel, Angel this is Riley," she said rapidly. The two men nodded at each other, but didn't shake hands. Buffy looked wildly around the room for any kind of distraction, and saw the Sunnydale group moving toward her. "Giles! Did everyone get out okay?"
"Yes, thankfully no one was hurt," he replied. "Hello, I'm Rupert Giles," he introduced himself to Riley, who was looking more baffled by the second.
"You're the guy who threw Buffy the sword." He shook his head at how odd the sentence sounded, and turned back to face Buffy again. "How do you know how to swordfight? How did you know about demons? In fact, what were you even doing here?"
Buffy took a deep breath, trying to decide whether or not to lie to him and what exactly she could say that he would believe, when she was interrupted by a fleeting touch on her shoulder. "I should go," Angel said quietly. With a nod to the rest of the Sunnydale group, he proceeded toward the door, but turned back to look at Riley. "You'll make sure she gets home safe?"
For a long moment the two locked eyes. Riley nodded, then glanced at Buffy, who was looking at the floor. By the time he turned back, Angel was gone. "You two used to date, didn't you?" Riley asked.
Buffy looked up, startled. "How did you know?"
"He looks at you the same way I do." Riley shifted uncomfortably. "So, you came here with him?"
Buffy's friends started to move away to give them privacy, disappearing into the crowd that was beginning to reassemble. "Look, I know I told you I was coming here to visit my Dad ... and there he is!" Buffy pointed toward Hank, who was slowly making his way towards them. "Do you want to meet him?"
Riley smiled, trying to hide his relief. Buffy tried to hide hers as well. "Yes, I do. But not like this," he said wryly, glancing down at his fatigues and assorted weapons. "I better go, my team is already outside."
Buffy smiled, noticing for the first time that the soldiers had completely disappeared. "Will you still be there if I come out in a few minutes? I know we need to talk, but I need to talk to my dad."
Riley nodded, then ducked out a side door and lifted a borrowed radio to his mouth. "This is Agent Finn."
"Roger that, all teams prepared for departure," Forrest's voice replied.
"I think we better make sure we got all of the demons. Let's send out a few pairs of scouts to secure the area. We'll load up and leave in thirty minutes."
"Is everybody okay?" Buffy asked, pulling her wrap tighter around her shoulders as she approached Oz's van. It had only taken her a few minutes to come up with a story for her father and send him on his baffled way. The side door of the van was open, and Xander and Anya sat on the floor with their legs dangling over the side, a feast of goodies in their laps. Giles was leaning against the next car, and Willow and Oz occupied the middle seat of the van.
"We're fine," Xander replied, mumbling through a mouthful of Oreos. "Just hungry."
Buffy turned and looked at Oz, noticing the novelty of his presence for the first time. "You're back. And you're here."
"Yeah, I noticed that, too," he replied, pulling Willow even closer to him. The two hadn't been much further than arms length apart the entire evening.
Buffy gave up trying to find out any details from Oz -- Willow would fill her in later, in words with more than one syllable. "Great! Welcome home. Giles, did we get all the demons? No tracking or following to do?"
"I believe most of the Brethren of Lorknar were killed in the explosion. But I did see some of the, er, commandos loading the remaining demons into their truck."
"I'll have to ask Riley about it tomorrow," Buffy mused. "At least now we know the soldiers aren't evil."
"They could be," Anya pointed out rationally. "Your boyfriends have switched sides before." Buffy rolled her eyes, then hesitated, her eyes searching the gardens surrounding the convention center.
"Can you guys wait here for a few minutes? I need to go find Riley, but then I need a ride back to my car at Angel's."
"We'll be here," Xander replied cheerfully. "Someone pass the brownies."
Buffy slipped quietly through the garden gate and waited. He would talk to her when he was ready.
"He seems nice."
Even though she was expecting him, could feel him near, she was a little startled when he materialized behind her. "You're still here," she observed unnecessarily.
"Just making sure everyone was safe."
She almost smiled. "No you weren't. Are you okay?"
He didn't answer her question. "Be careful, Buffy. Find out more about these soldiers before you ..." He paused, unable to say the words.
"Angel, what do you want me to do? You left me, you decided we couldn't be together without ever asking what I wanted, you told me you wanted me to move on and have a normal life --"
"I know," he interrupted. "And I still do. I want what's best for you." He looked deeply into her eyes but forced down the urge to take her hand as well. " ... and that's not me. I want you to be happy." He hesitated, not sure if it was really wise to continue. "But I'll always love you, and I'll always wish that things were different."
Buffy's eyes brimmed with tears, and she blinked them back, waiting a moment until she trusted her voice not to crack. "Me too," she whispered, and opened the gate before she turned back to look at him one more time. "Angel? Do you ever think that maybe someday it could be different? That something could make me not the Slayer, or anchor your soul, or even make you human?"
"It's possible," he replied with difficulty. If she only knew ... "But we can't plan our lives on maybes and somedays."
"I know. I won't." She moved forward quickly to kiss him on the cheek, and a sad, sweet smile crossed her face as she backed away. "But maybe someday."
And she left.
"Buffy!"
Buffy, turned, startled, as Riley emerged from the building, where he had been checking for any last traces of the demons. She smiled a little nervously. "I was beginning to think you had already left."
"Not yet," he replied, looking a little tense himself, "but soon."
Buffy took a deep breath. "So, I guess that telling you that a gang attacked the party I just happened to be at, and that I found the sword somewhere, and that they looked green because of ... actually, I haven't come up with an excuse for that yet. Anyway, all that isn't going to work here, is it?"
"Nope."
"Figured. Not that you have any less explaining to do, Agent Finn."
He tried -- and almost succeeded -- to look serious. "Sorry, it's classified."
"Whatever. I'll beat the information out of you if I have to," she muttered, as they began walking slowly towards the parking lot.
Thinking back to the strength of those demons and the ease with which she had battled them made Riley pause. "That's not an idle threat, is it." It was a statement, not a question.
She chuckled. "Nope."
"Want to meet tomorrow morning for breakfast? I make a mean omelet." He smiled his most charming smile.
"It's a date," she replied.
Without warning, he stepped forward and kissed her quickly on the lips. Pulling back slightly, he watched her intently as she opened her eyes. She nodded ever so slightly, and he leaned down to kiss her again, pulling her a little closer with the hand that wasn't occupied with his radio. The kiss could have been moments or minutes; neither would quite remember later. When it ended, Riley smiled as he slowly backed away. "Happy New Year, Buffy." He turned and vanished into the building.
Buffy smiled at the door that had swallowed him. "Happy New Year."
"Are you okay?"
Angel didn't turn as Cordelia approached him, gazing at the lights of the city and the people in the parking lot below him. "You're back early."
"Ugh, they wanted me to wear this enormous hat and totally transparent costume. No thank you," she shuddered.
"How did you find me?"
"Come on, I already knew about the whole demon invasion tonight, and you love lurking on rooftops almost as much as sewer tunnels. Now stop trying to change the subject. Are you okay?"
Angel glanced down at the two blonde heads he could see below him and didn't answer. Cordelia followed his gaze. "Get a load of Buffy and Captain Farmboy. The outfit is kind of G.I. Joe, but that boy's posture just screams 'Shucks, I grew up with the cows.'"
"His name's Riley. Nice enough kid. Hell, I practically told him to take care of her and gave Buffy my blessing."
They watched in silence as the two talked, kissed, and left. "It's killing you, isn't it," Cordelia stated softly, showing more compassion than anyone ever gave her credit for. She studied him quietly, giving him time to brood.
"Yeah, it is," Angel eventually admitted. "But I'm already dead, so I'll be okay."
Cordelia stared at him in mock surprise. "Wow, humor. Morbid humor, but still ... This is a much faster recovery than I was expecting." She turned deliberately away from the view of the parking lot where the Sunnydale crew were piling into Oz's van. "Come on, you can drive me home and we'll make jokes about people from the Midwest."
Angel smiled, and they moved toward the stairwell in easy camaraderie. "So, you were dressed up like a showgirl for New Year's Eve?" he asked innocently.
"Don't even remind me ..."
The End