~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Angel woke up to an aching head and a painful soreness in his arms. He remembered the man appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the road, remember swerving to miss him and the pain that had preceded blackness as his head hit the steering wheel while the car hit the concrete barrier on the side of the road.
He didn’t remember how he came to be here, his arms chained to the wall above him making him a prisoner in what looked like an upscale apartment.
Somehow he wasn’t surprised though. Angel thought it must be a law of nature that he and Buffy couldn’t possibly spend time together like a normal couple. Something bad, usually of the demonic variety, just had to happen no matter what their plans were.
Up until he’d tried to leave town it had been a remarkably disaster free weekend.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Angel took a deep calming breath and rang Buffy’s doorbell. He was nervous, that was beyond denying. Sure he’d met Buffy’s family before… and been told to get the hell out of her life before he wrecked it… but back then his own beliefs about whether or not he had any business being a part of Buffy’s life had made that sort of reception expected.
Now he was human. He’d proven that he wasn’t helpless, at least to himself. Buffy still wanted him and for the first time he had hope that Buffy’s mother might approve of his dating her daughter. That was why he was nervous. Before there’d been no point in hoping, no parent in their right mind would have approved their child having a relationship with a literal monster, but he wasn’t anymore so maybe… Angel felt guilty that he was relieved that Buffy’s father wasn’t around to judge him, Joyce was hard enough to face and if he remembered correctly fathers were supposed to be worse than mothers when it came to this sort of thing.
Buffy opened the door and greeted him with a quick kiss and a reassuring smile. “Relax Angel, you’ve been dealing with LaCroix for months, my mom’s going to be a piece of cake.”
Under his breath Angel muttered, “But LaCroix likes me.”
The plan was for them to have lunch together with Joyce and Dawn, thus giving Buffy’s Mother a chance to get to know Angel. Buffy had chosen a restaurant that had a patio; Dawn had told Angel it was because Buffy thought it would help her mother to see Angel in a different light if she saw him in the sunlight. Angel decided Buffy was becoming a fairly decent tactician.
Ten minutes into the meal Angel found himself wishing desperately for his sunglasses. He left them behind because he felt it was rude to hide his eyes and he didn’t want to do anything that might make a bad impression.
In addition to his eyes’ sensitivity to light being out in direct sunlight still made him feel vaguely uncomfortable. Oh he loved the sun, the feel of it, warm and welcoming against his skin, but the brightness was less enjoyable.
Angel had spent months trying to convince Cordelia that his preference for low lighting in his rooms wasn‘t just him setting the mood for brooding but was done because it was more comfortable for eyes naturally adapted to the dark. It had taken her becoming a vampire to convince her that he was telling the truth about that.
Angel hadn’t expected that sensitivity to remain now that he was human, but that was the case or maybe it was all in his head. One of the few things Angel actually remembered about Hell was that it was bright, bright and cold. Not at all the lava lit pit he’d envisioned, instead it had been a cold barren, plateau without a single shadow to hide in.
More than once Angel had had to stop himself from correcting someone when they used the phrase “When Hell freezes over,” to mean never. Or maybe that was just how he’d perceived it because they’d know how he’d hated the cold and the unrelenting brightness was it’s own subtle form of torture. When Spike described being a prisoner in the Initiative Angel had felt an involuntary pang of sympathy, it sounded like the Initiative had created their own little slice of Hell.
Maybe his discomfort in brightly lit places was just bad associations. Or maybe he was just so used to being part of the shadows that he didn’t know how to leave them behind and let people actually see him.
Still Joyce did seem to be giving him a chance.
“Um… Angel how old are you?” Joyce asked and Angel wondered if his previous thought had been premature.
He glanced down at the table, fidgeted with his fork for a few seconds then said. “I was turned in 1753.”
“I didn’t mean…” Joyce began. “I meant how * old * are you?”
“Oh, twenty-six,” Angel replied, hoping that wasn’t going to be too bad.
“Oh…” Joyce echoed, and from her tone Angel knew it was a bad as he’d feared. Still he was certain that some of the guys Cordelia had gone out with were more than six years older than she was.
“Riley was twenty-four,” Buffy reminded her mother quietly.
Joyce smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry Angel,” she said. Then changed the subject. “Buffy mentioned something about one of your friends being ill? How is she?”
“Cordelia’s not in any danger anymore,” Angel replied relieved that it was true even if he wasn’t entirely certain about the cure she’d found.
“You found a way to stop the visions?” Buffy asked.
“No, but they don’t really hurt her now,” Angel replied, unable to bring himself to tell his girlfriend, to tell the Slayer, that the young woman whom he thought of as family was now a vampire.
“You aren’t doing anything about the visions though?” Buffy asked hopefully.
“They’re messages from the Powers that Be,” Angel said gently. “Ignoring them isn’t really a choice.”
“Of course not,” Buffy replied without conviction.
“It hasn’t been anything too bad yet,” Angel reassured her. “A child vampire, a drunken feryal demon…”
“Giles got turned into one of those on Buffy’s birthday last year,” Dawn volunteered.
“How did that happen?” Angel asked.
“Ethan Rayne,” Buffy replied.
“It fits his style,” Angel commented.
“Ethan’s almost fun,” Dawn said. “Remember Halloween with Princess-Buffy being all ‘Save me! Save me!’ while Xena-me kicked Spike’s butt?”
“Dawn!” Joyce exclaimed.
“What? I did, it was cool,” Dawn replied.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Despite Angel’s fear the day had gone extremely well. He'd been shocked to realize that he was disappointed when the check had arrived ending the event.
He’d expected that to be the Buffy/Angel catastrophe of the weekend, not this.
A very human looking man knelt in front of Angel and gently peeled back the bandage on his forehead.
“What’s going on?” Angel demanded. “Why are you holding me prisoner?”
“It’s not me, it’s Glory who captured you,” The man insisted. “I’m just treating your head wound. By the way how are you feeling?”
“Constrained,” Angel replied tugging against his restraints.
“Look, I need a real answer,” Ben sighed. “You were out for quite a while, I’m worried that you might have a concussion.”
“My head hurts,” Angel said.
Ben pulled out a penlight and flashed it in first one eye than the other. “Pupils react equally,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”
“You’re sure about that?” Angel asked. “Maybe you should take me to a hospital.”
“I’m a medical intern, I know what I’m doing.”
“Why are you doing this?” Angel asked.
“The Hippocratic oath, I’d be better off if you just died.”
“Why?”
“Glory’s going to trade you for the Key.”
“The what?”
“Your girlfriend is the Key’s guardian. Glory needs the key. If she gets it I’m screwed. I wish her damn minions had been just a little bit stupider and killed you before I ever saw you.”
“You could let me go,” Angel suggested.
“I’d love to, but they won’t,” Ben said pointing to the brown habited minions just visible through the door.
“Unchain me, give me a chance. I’ll get out,” Angel said meeting Ben’s eyes with absolute certainty. “Or die trying. I won’t be used as a hostage against Buffy.”
“Do you really think they’d trust me with the key to your manacles?” Ben asked with a snort.
_____________________________________________________________________________
“You aren’t even speeding,” Xander said to his co-worker as they drove out to the day’s job site. “Can’t we listen to the radio instead of the police scanner?”
The complaint was almost a tradition after three months.
“Black Plymouth, license plate number NKO 714, found off the road at mile post 43 on HWY 110,” An officer reported.
“You should…” Xander’s co-worker began but Xander held up a hand to silence him.
“The vehicle is abandoned. There’s blood on the windshield,” the report concluded.
“Find a payphone,” Xander said urgently.
“What is it?” the other man asked.
“The guy that drives that car dates a friend of mine,” Xander said.
_____________________________________________________________________________
“What happened to just sparring until I decided you were ready for active duty?” Buffy had asked once she and Angel were alone.
“Reality happened,” Angel said. “LA’s demons, not to mention the lawyers at Wolfram and Hart aren’t going to take a vacation until I convince you I’m still capable. I can hold my own with any of Gunn’s people and I know my limits well enough to know when I need back up. If I need supernatural help I’ve got LaCroix and … and a few other contacts in the demon world.”
Buffy listened to the rock solid certainty in Angel’s voice. Her expansion was caught between fear and something that almost looked like relief. “You’re back aren’t you?” She asked. “Nothing I could say is going to stop you from being the PTB’s warrior is it? Because you know you can do this.”
Angel felt surprised at her reaction. “We’re not going to have a knock down drag out fight about this? No emotional blackmail?”
Buffy frowned at his choice of words. “I never…”
“The Hell you didn’t,” Angel cut her off, smiling slightly to take the sting out of his words.
“Alright I did,” Buffy admitted. “But only because I was worried about you. You were all ‘I’m going to go out and get myself killed to prove I can’t make it as a human.’ You didn’t care enough not to jump in over head.”
“And now?” Angel asked.
“You wouldn’t be Angel if you didn’t insist on helping people anymore,” Buffy said.
“You’re not going to try to keep me out of this Slaying like you did to Riley and Xander?” Angel asked suspiciously.
“You’re not Riley or Xander,” Buffy sighed. “For Riley this stuff is a job, Xander does it because he’s my friend. Which isn’t to say that Xander isn’t a big help a lot of the time. With him I think I just got scared. Riley, I don’t know, he wanted to help but it never felt right to have him along. Still, neither of them have the PTB sending them messages. I can’t keep you out of this any more than Mom could keep me from being the Slayer.”
“So you’re really okay with this?” Angel asked.
“We’re okay,” Buffy said.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Angel smiled a little at his memories.
“You’re not paying attention to me!” Glory pouted, slapping Angel.
Angel rolled his eyes. “What do you want now?” he asked boredly.
“What do you think of this dress?” Glory asked. “Be honest.”
“Don’t your minions have more practice at that sort of ‘honesty’?” Angel asked.
On key two of the minions immediately broke into a spade of “Oh most beauteous Glorifious, no mere article of clothing can do justice to your overflowing radiance.”
“Shut up!” Glory commanded. “I want an opinion from a person with actual taste.”
“Could we please get to what you actually want?” Angel asked.
_____________________________________________________________________________
“Do we know what happened to Angel?” Xander asked.
“Glory has him,” Buffy said. “She wants to trade the Key for Angel.”
“What did you tell her?” Willow asked. “I mean we don’t have the Key.”
“That it would take a couple of days for me to get the Key back from where I’d hidden it,” Buffy said. “That gives us time to figure out where she’s got Angel and rescue him.”
“Where do we start looking?” LaCroix asked walking into the Magic Box, Cordelia a step behind him.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Angel’s mouth quirked as he watched Glory terrorize her minions over some inadequacy in the repairs they’d done on one of her outfits.
The vain goddess’s aversion to damaging her cloths, nails, hair, shoes and everything else related to her appearance was going to provide Angel with his escape route. Like he’d told Ben, he wouldn’t be used as a hostage against Buffy.
“I guess you’re more interested in that dress than you are in the Key,” Angel said casually.
In less than a blink of an eye Glory was standing in front of him, her hand tangled in Angel’s hair forcing him to look up at her. “What do you know about my Key?” she demanded.
“I could lead your minions to it,” Angel offered. “Being in your company is more torture than I can take.”
“Really, you could? Now aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” Glory purred. “Tell me, where is my Key?”
“I said I’d take your people there,” Angel replied. “Your mush brained minions wouldn’t learn the directions in a century, and you don’t really want to go into the sewer tunnels yourself, do you?”
“Oh minions,” Glory chimed. “You’re going with this sweet man to get me my Key.”
_____________________________________________________________________________
Spike glanced at Cordelia, then a second later he frowned and turned back for a second, more appraising look. “Pale looks good on you Ducks,” he said with a leer.
Cordelia glared at him irritably. “You’ll keep your eyes and your mouth to yourself, Fangless, if you know what’s good for you.”
“You do look a little pale,” Willow said, sounding concerned. “Are you sure everything’s okay now?”
“I’m great, wonderful really,” Cordelia babbled. “I just need to catch up on my sun-tanning.”
“Daughter,” LaCroix reprimanded in a voice too soft for human ears.
Cordelia mentally pouted at him, it didn’t change the disapproval he was directing back to her.
This was part of the deal. LaCroix didn’t want her hiding what she was from Angel or any of his and Buffy’s friends who were in the know about vampires.
Cordelia had tried to explain that this was going to backfire, because there was no way they were going to accept the new her. Wesley would and maybe she and Gunn could establish an understanding like he’d had with Angel, but telling the Sunnydale crew… It was just a bad idea. They’d hate her and that would nothing to forward LaCroix case for Angel letting himself be turned but the General didn’t take advice from his daughter.
Which meant she couldn’t try to hide it. Even though Xander had been arguing that Angel should be staked from day one and would probably want her dead too now. Then there was Giles who wasn’t exactly fond of vampires, souled or otherwise since Jenny. Plus Buffy and Willow didn’t like her as a human, why would they like her any better now?
LaCroix’s stance hadn’t softened even a little.
“And if I live to be a thousand, which is a possibility, I never will be doing any Sun-bathing again. Sun-anything sort of off the menu from here on out,” Cordelia sighed, bracing herself for the explosion.
Giles took her hand and pressed his fingers to the underside of Cordelia’s wrist.
“If you wait long enough it will happen,” Cordelia said. “I’m a real live vampire, not a dead one like bleach-boy over there.”
“You did this to her!” Xander accused LaCroix indignantly.
Slowly LaCroix turned, daining to make eye contact with Xander. “Of course,” he said, as if it amused him to humor an insect such as this. Cordelia wondered how many decades LaCroix had spent perfecting his ability to reduce a person to nothing with just a look.
“Bastard!” Xander hissed, grabbing LaCroix’s jacket.
Cordelia closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to see Xander turned into a pile of assorted body parts.
“Release me,” LaCroix commanded, putting enough whammy in his voice to make Xander trip over his own feet in his haste to obey.
“It was my choice,” Cordelia declared moving to stand between LaCroix and the Sunnydale crowd.
“How could you do something so stupid?” Buffy demanded.
“Gee, souled vampire minus the curse part or brain damaged soon to be corpse,” Cordelia said tossing her hair over her shoulder disdainfully. “It was such a hard choice.”
“So it’s all Angel’s fault,” Xander said regaining his feet and his poise.
“You’ll never suggest that to Angel,” Cordelia commanded throwing every bit of whammy that she had into that order, hoping it would work.
Whamming didn’t come naturally. It took practice, and Cordelia was fairly hesitant about actually overriding someone else’s will. Sure she’d made Wes get her coffee on a regular basis, but she could never be sure that it was her powers and not his manners that made it work.
She’d tried it on Angel once, a harmless little suggestion about paying her a week early so she’d have the money to take advantage of this really great sale, but Angel had recognized what she was doing instantly and the betrayal in his eyes hurt so much Cordy knew that she’d never try influencing him that way again.
“If you’re done harassing my daughter, shall we look into rescuing my son?” LaCroix asked.
“Angel isn’t yours anymore,” Buffy huffed.
“He will always be mine,” LaCroix replied with a fierce possessiveness. “Nothing changes that.”
_____________________________________________________________________________
Angel led Jinx and Dredge through the least habitable parts of Sunnydale’s immense underground.
Every few feet the former vampire slipped on the slimy floor, forcing the two minions to rush to catch him and help him back to his feet.
“Please, be more careful most gracious and knowledgeable one,” Jinx pled. “Our illuminous Glory would inflict untold suffering on our insignificant selves if anything should happen to you before we recover the Key.”
“I’d have a lot better balance if you untied my hands,” Angel suggested, covering a grin.
“This we cannot do, most helpful Angel,” Dredge simpered.
“Road’s only getting worse a head,” Angel said. “Narrow, steep, bad footing… I’ll have to go first of course, since I’m the only one who knows where we’re going. If I fall, you won’t catch me, I’ll probably break my neck.”
Jinx and Dredge exchanged worried glances. “Our most creative and lovely Glorious will define new forms of torture for our punishment,” Jinx pointed out.
“Perhaps we could untie you,” Dredge offered. “If you swear that you won’t try to escape.”
“Scouts honor,” Angel replied innocently.
_____________________________________________________________________________
“Hi,” Glory said walking into the Magic Box. “I just dropped by to say I don’t need you any more. At this very moment your boyfriend is leading my minions to the Key. You know I expected him to be the noble type.”
“Angel wouldn’t help you,” Buffy said. Plus he doesn’t even know about Dawn she thought, which makes this a plan of some sort.
“Sure he would Honey. I’m a god,” Glory replied. “He figured out which side is going to win.”
“You, little girl, are supposed to be a god?” LaCroix asked.
“I am a god!” Glory screeched, backhanding LaCroix.
LaCroix surged off the floor into Glory. Using his ability to fly, he slammed her against the wall, about halfway between floor and ceiling.
Buffy and Spike exchanged a glance then a shrug and went to join LaCroix in pounding on Glory.
The Hell-goddess swatted LaCroix away and both crashed to the floor.
Before Glory could get up, Spike kicked her in the ribs. When he tried for a second kick Glory grabbed his ankle and squeezed. Spike gasped in pain as the small bones were reduced to splinters by her grip.
Glory stood, tossing Spike across the room as she did so. Then Buffy punched her. The two exchanged a few blows before Buffy was sent flying. When Glory tried to go after the Slayer, Cordelia grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms to her side.
A moment later Cordy hit the back wall of the shop, smashing into a display cabinet.
“Desist!” LaCroix ordered his voice filled with an icy power.
Glory paused.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Angel grinned smugly at the two minions groaning on the cavern floor.
“You promised,” Jinx whimpered.
“Well, you know I never was a boy scout,” Angel replied glibly. “As far as I know, I’ve never even eaten one. I’d say it’s been fun guys, but it really wasn’t. Be sure to tell Glory worst of luck with that Key thing, will ya.”
Still looking very pleased with himself, Angel turned and headed back out of the tunnels.
_____________________________________________________________________________
“You’re trying to screw with my mind?” Glory asked LaCroix in disbelief. “Baby, that’s just not how it works.”
Glory drove her fingers into the sides of LaCroix’s skull and the ancient screamed.
A second later Cordelia echoed him.
In a Parisian nightclub a woman’s glass tumbled from suddenly nerveless finger. As she collapsed the man she’d been talking to leapt to catch her. “Jenette!” he cried in alarm.
In the tunnels beneath Sunnydale Angel stumbled, falling to his knees. “LaCroix?” he asked, concern filling his voice. He forced himself to take a deep breath then climbed back to his feet and took off running.
In a tightly shuttered loft apartment with the still atmosphere of a crypt, a presence glanced up from its intent study of a particular spot on the floor in front of the fireplace. It wavered and for a few moments seemed to disappear. Then strengthened and resumed its vigil.
In the magic shop Glory shrieked in outrage and staggered back from LaCroix. “Fine,” she spat. “I didn’t need it anyway. I’ll just go get my Key!” With that she stormed out of the store.
“LaCroix?” Cordelia asked unsteadily. “Are you okay?”
“Bleeding bitch broke my leg,” Spike exclaimed.
Willow checked his injury and made a sympathetic face. “Smushed it is more accurate,” she said.
“LaCroix?” Cordelia asked again, her voice wavering.
“I’m well child,” LaCroix replied without opening his eyes or moving from where he slumped against the wall. After a pause he added. “Thank you for your assistance in repelling that vile creature from my mind.”
“No big,” Cordelia replied going to sit beside him.
“I violently dislike her,” Buffy said craning her head to inspect a bruise forming on her shoulder.
“So, would Angel really take her to this Key thing?” Xander said.
“How would he do that?” Giles asked. “When he doesn’t know the first thing about it?”
“Oh right,” Xander said with a touch of embarrassment.
“Spike broke the cash register when he fell on it,” Anya said irritably.
“Next time I’ll ask her to throw me at you instead,” Spike grouched wincing as Willow used her magic to harden the bandages she’d wrapped around his ankle into a cast.
A few minutes later Angel burst through the doors, completely out of breath from running across town.
“You escaped,” Buffy exclaimed happily launching herself into Angel’s arms.
“Is everyone all right?” Angel asked.
“More or less,” Buffy said.
“Less, most bloody definitely less,” Spike complained.
“LaCroix?” Angel asked as he hugged Buffy tightly.
“You heard me call,” LaCroix said with satisfaction. “Even as you are now, you heard and responded.”
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