~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Only the sound of video and arcade games were louder than the girls. Almost.
The one being pulled, pulled back. "Good grief girl, it is attached, you know."
"Sorry, running late. Come with me while I change," she replied, not giving the other girl a choice. Pulling her into the bathroom, she said, "Chris, you have gotta meet Sensei."
Chris rolled her eyes. "Uh, I met Sensei."
The girl mumbled something from beneath her gi. Hair disheveled, she emerged from the uniform. "No," she said, drawing the word out, "new sensei, remember? Remember, Sensei got married and left? Nels finally got somebody to take her place."
Chris, legs crossed on the couch, shrugged. "So what's so special that I just gotta meet this one? Is she like uber-Sensei or something?"
"No," she said, "he's hot." The teen at her friend through the mirror.
"Mmm," the girl purred. "Carmen hurry up. For once I wish I was in karate."
"I swear I felt teeth on my neck when I woke up," Chris yelled over the four or five voices around her. Someone replied but it was lost in the din. "Oh, shut up," she said. They rushed through the door to the mess hall-cum-gym.
Carmen whispered. "Turn around." Chris did, noting first the lower belts
she knew packing up their stuff then Carmen's fellow brown belts and the
new sensei. "Hot or what," she asked, her mouth close to Chris' ear.
Grinning, Chris turned. With one deep blood red nail, she scratched
an imaginary tongue of flame in the air, hissing. "Sexy." She gave him
another perusal. "Not exactly drop-dead gorgeous but definitely yum."
"Well, I never said he was drop-dead. . .caveman brows ruin it."
Chris took in a breath. "Yeah, yeah."
They sat at the back of the mess hall, Carmen stretching. "Carmen." The girls looked up. "We're getting started soon."
"I know, I'm sorry. Oh, Sensei, this is my friend, Christina. Is it all right if she stays and watch?"
"I'll sit in the back in a corner and won't say a word, promise," the other girl added.
Sensei smiled at them. Carmen and Christina shared a quick look. "You don't have to do all that." He offered Carmen his hand. "Just don't make a habit of it."
"Don't worry, girl, I'll take care of your," Christina looked about herself, "uh, nothings." As they joined the rest of the class, she called, "Thanks, Sensei." She wasn't sure if he heard.
Christina grinned. "That was fun to watch. Course, now you're all sweaty and in need of a shower."
"You should be right here, sweaty as me."
"Yeah," she shrugged, "I should, but I'm not."
"Why don't you join?" Carmen asked, mopping her forehead. "I mean, look at him," she said.
"Have you seen the other white belts? The oldest one is eight. I'm nearly seventeen."
"Bye, Sensei, Carmen called. Christina held the door open for her.
"Bye Sensei," she added, perfunctorily. "There's no way I'm taking karate now," Christina continued the conversation as the door closed behind her. "You've been trying to get me to join for years Car, ain't happenin'."
Carmen shrugged. "I'm gonna get you in karate, just watch. Come on," she said, "my clothes're in the bathroom."
"Ew, you're gonna walk around all sweaty? You are going to use Miguel's mobile sonic shower, right?"
"Brokedown palace."
"You're gonna be smellier than the mutant sewer rats."
Carmen rolled her eyes. "Uh, I live upstairs. Gonna go get in some real water and come back." They stopped before the bathroom. "You'll be here?"
"Yeah."
"Great. Come on," she said, pushing the door open, "I gotta get my clothes and bag and stuff."
"Why don't I get your coat for you. I can say hi to Miguel since you hardly let me put my coat down earlier."
"Oh, okay, then tell him I'm coming back, okay?"
He wasn't in the back, though the coat's were. Tossing her friend's inside the bathroom, Christina went in search of Miguel Nelson.
"Stay," his voice found her before she did, "stay a while." He was there, in front of his office with Sensei. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you? Why don't you hang out?"
Christina burst in on them, unceremoniously. "Oh, sorry." She patiently waited for them to finish.
"Its all right," Sensei said.
"Go ahead, Christine."
Feeling put on the spot, she ran a hand through her hair. "Uh, Carmen's feeling gross so she's gonna shower and come back." Miguel nodded. "Okay." Christina turned on her heel and went back the way she came.
"You know, you're not one of my students, you don't haven't call me Sensei."
Carmen passed behind them. "Not if I have my way."
Christina made a snide face at her friend -- one of her best friends really.
"What's that about."
"Car's been trying to get me in karate since before we were friends. But I never am," Carmen stuck her tongue out, Christina reciprocated. "So what should I call you?"
Holding out his hand, he answered, "Angel."
Taking it, she raised a brow. "Not to be rude or mean and please take this in the best way possible but that's not exactly a 'white' name."
Angel smiled. "It's a nickname."
"Okay," and the subject was closed.
Or at least that of his name was. "She has to call you Sensei," one of the lower belts claimed. "Everyone does."
"And why's that," he asked.
"Because."
"That's not an answer."
Carmen strode by again, "He's too young. That's the best you're gonna get," adding her two cents.
"Am not," the boy retaliated.
"Yeah," Christina sided with her friend, "she's right, but so is Man," she used the boy's nickname. "It's like my French teacher from high school. Everyone calls her Madame, even my mom. Not Madame Clarence and certainly not Mrs. Clarence, she was just Madame. It was her name, sorta."
"Was she the only French teacher?" Angel asked thoughtfully.
"Cha, just like you're the only sensei here, Sensei," Christina smiled at him. "But if you really want me to call you Angel I will, just don't expect the other kids to follow suit."
"I'm only concerned about you," he replied cryptically.
The conversation turned quickly, before Christina could ask his meaning. The younger children, Man included, started drifting off as parents, siblings and other relations picked them up. Those left behind, mostly teenagers and some of the younger staff, were making decisions among themselves.
"Well can we eat first," someone called out, "I'm hungry." All eyes turned to the speaker. It was Carmen. "Well, I am."
Christina jumped up. "Let's go." Once again the fluctuating voice changed theme from entertainment to food.
"Are we all gonna go?" a girl named Noria asked.
Nelson took charge. "Unless you all want something different how bout I make a list and John and Mike can get the food." Everyone agreed, calling out orders over each other.
Christina noted Angel, at the center of confusion made no attempt at ordering. Coming up to him she tapped his shoulder. "Hey, do you want anything, my treat. Though, the way things are going, I'm sure you can graze from everyone else's stuff. Actually, everyone will."
"I'm fine," he said, with a shake of his head, "I'm not hungry. Its still kinda early for me, but thanks."
"A perfect ten, gotcha."
Angel watched her retreat, somewhat confused by her lingo. Well, it was more logical than Faith's "five by five," but whatever.
Dinner dissolved into a game of hide-and-go-seek. Angel didn't play, and no one really expected him to. Instead he did what he did best, he observed and lurked. There really weren't many hiding places in the community center. Nelson's office probably held the best spots, but the director had holed himself in there once their food arrived. He either had a lot of faith in them or knew they had a healthy fear of his wrath. Some of both was true.
Though declining to play, Angel carefully noted where each player hid. More often than not two or three girls -- often staying together throughout the game -- hid together. The boys tended to hide alone.
Carlo, Carmen and Christina -- the three C's Miguel had called them, describing some of the children under his care to Angel -- broke the norm. More often than not they hid separately, but worked as a unit. Carlo was behind a door, acting as look out, while the girls took more secure hiding places. Christina usually led their actions, deciding what room they would hide in while Carmen coordinated their movements, making sure they didn't make silly mistakes.
Angel was impressed.
Of the ten games played, they were caught twice (Noria'd been It six times that night). Both times only the acting lookout was discovered. The second time Angel got to watch Christina in action.
". . .One oh eight, one oh nine, one ten. Ready or not, here I come!" She strode down the main hall, entering the game room through the nearest entrance. Angel was waiting, sitting on a table set up for card play. "If you plan on running to the kitchen or mess hall, I'll catch you first," she said to the apparently room. She, Carlo and Carmen'd already tried that trick. "I don't suppose you'll tell me where everyone is?"
Angel shook his head.
There was no one in the game room and she knew it. It made a bad hiding place, being brightly lit with very open spaces. As a stopover to the next two rooms over, however, it was excellent.
Smiling, the girl strode out of the game room into the nature room. There was very little in the way of nature there now, but during the summer it was home to a variety of creatures.
For the most part Christina'd been silently stalking her friends. This time she let her boot heels click and emphasized the rustle of her clothes. She wanted whoever was hiding to know she was there. To Angel's surprise, however, Christina exited the room. Making a sharp left, she entered the movie room. Again, she walked part way in before leaving. From the doorway Angel could smell Carlo and Carmen hiding.
"Two," she confirmed in a whisper. "I'll get them later."
Christina went back in the nature room. They knew she was there. It was making them nervous. Nerves was making them giggle. "Aha! Gotcha, Quanna."
"Hey," the youngster appeared from a dark corner of junk.
"Come on, let's get everyone else. Get out from behind the table Roberto, before it falls on you and Noria."
The two groaned and shoved themselves out. The three teens busily began ferreted everyone else out.
Christina abandoned them for the movie room. "Game over, guys. Quanna's It."
Carlo and Carmen, grinning. "That was fast," Carlo commented.
"Cha. Quanna giggles like a hyena."
That might have been true but Angel knew that wasn't how she'd found them or the girl. Christina'd let her senses do the finding.
Soon afterward, everyone grew tired of hiding. Someone suggested a movie.
Christina glanced at her LCD. "I gotta get out of here."
"You have to leave already?" Carlo asked.
"Redundant tonight, huh? Cha, I gotta go. You shoulda been here earlier," she said hugging him. "We could have spent more time together."
"I'll be here tomorrow," he said, hopefully.
Christina smiled ruefully, "I'll see if I can make it."
"She'll be here," Carmen said, "if we have to drag her here from Manhattan."
The girls made faces before hugging.
"Well," Angel said, interrupting, "I guess I should go too. I'll walk you out."
"Okay. 'Night guys."
"G'night."
"Night"
"See ya."
Outside, pulling on her gloves, Christina asked where Angel was headed.
He shrugged. "Got some things to do before I go home."
"Cool. I'll see you around then."
"Would you like a ride home?"
"S'okay. I'm mondo. G'night." With that she was off down the street, rushing her to transport spot.
"Tell me again how you got me to do this for you?"
"I bribed you with antiques," the Englishman replied cheerily, "remember."
Angel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, unfortunately I do. Look, I don't think this girl is gonna work out. A year's jut not long enough."
"You had a year and three months --"
"Took me three months to find her." Angel paced across the view screen. "Look, maybe if I had her for a year of pure training, maybe she could take on a fledgling but there's just no way --"
"So what're you griping about? And stop pacing, would you?" The dark skinned man rubbed his neck. "Why don't you get to it?"
Angel stopped in front of the viewer. "I can't just whisk her away to LA."
"Why ever not?"
"She spent sixteen years like a normal kid, Bishop. I can't just take her from her family, they wouldn't let me. Hell, she wouldn't let me." He started to pace again.
"I'm sure if you explain --"
"Oh yeah, I can see it now. 'Why, hello Mrs. Singletary my name is Angel. Your daughter, Christina, isn't she sweet, well she happens to the Chosen One. What's the Chosen One you may ask? She's the one girl in every generation chosen to fight vampires. I'd like to take her to my vintage hotel in LA now and train her to kill things that go bump in the night. Oh and did I mention I'm one of those things, a vampire to be exact?' Yeah, that'll go over real well."
"Well," Bishop said, pushing up his glasses, "I certainly wouldn't put it like that."
Angel sighed. "No, I'm sure you wouldn't. Look, Bishop, I'll handle it. It's just," he looked intently at the man on the other coast, "the first five-year old vamp she meets will wipe her out then we're back at square one."
"Olivia won't be ready for another three years, at least."
"And Kat?"
"No more than a year, maybe a little more, assuming prophecy holds."
"And when has prophecy ever fallen through?"
Hide-and-seek was not on the menu that night at the Center.
The three C's sat in the entertainment room staring at the blank big-screen wondering what to do. "We could watch boxing," Carlo suggested. The two girls looked at him in disgust. "Or not."
"We could listen to music," suggested Carmen.
"You're just not letting go of the music thing," Christina said, looking down at her best friend, "are you?"
"Nope."
Angel walk in.
"Nope."
Angel walked in.
"Yo."
"Hey."
Shalom." The last came from Christina, eliciting giggles from her friends.
He surveyed the room and its occupants. The three sat against the far wall, close to the dead machine. From the various people he'd watch enter then quickly exit the room Angel knew they thought it empty. His vampire nose had told him differently. If it hadn't been for his enhanced senses, he might have thought it empty too. As it was, Carmen sat closest to the flatscreen, arms resting next to her, slouching with head in had be an uncomfortable position; Christina sat atop the couch, leaning against the wall radiator.
"Bored," he asked them.
"Yeah.
"Uh huh."
"How'd you guess."
Angel rolled his eyes. "You three should be a comedy act."
"We are," Carmen answered. Her friends giggled.
"You could always train some more.
Carlo and Carmen groaned while Christina grinned. Trying to protest, Carlo sat up too fast hitting his head on the radiator above. Both girls laughed at his mishap. "Oh shut up." They laughed harder. "It wasn't that funny."
"You're right," Christina gasped, "it wasn't." Somehow the thought sent them into another, stronger, gale. Carmen was doubled over, Christina with her, sliding down into the seat proper.
"Okay, okay," she said, wiping away tears, "we'll stop." The girls looked at each other and erupted again. Seeing the look on Carlo's face, Christina said, "It's not you. I swear its not you. We're just so bored. Right Car?"
"Uh huh," she agreed. "How 'bout on a movie? A weeper even. Wanna watch, Sensei?"
Christina and Carlo looked up. They'd forgotten about Angel. "Yeah man," Carlo said, "I need some moral support."
"You seemed to be doing just fine."
The girls hid giggles behind their hands.
That was the last straw, so to speak. Carlo got up angrily. "That's it. I'm gonna pick out a DVD. Could you two try to work out the giggles by the time the movie starts?"
"We'll try."
"Uh huh, we will."
The might have sounded earnest to Carlo, but Angel could see them quietly tittering.
Sitting across from them he asked if it were all that funny.
The girls exchanged a glance. "No, but it happened and it was kinda funny." Christina looked at her giggle-partner in crime. "You gotta understand, we're just so bored," she finished a yawn.
"Good timing," Carmen commented.
"Thanks, and I didn't even try."
So what did the girls do when they weren't here during the day, Angel asked.
"School," they replied simultaneously.
"High school," Carmen clarified, raising her hand. "College," she added, raising Christina's.
Where did they go?
"LaGuardia and Brooklyn College," she answered.
"Respectively speaking," Christina added.
Oh, he worked at BC, teaching a martial arts class.
"Told you you should take karate," Carmen exclaimed, playfully pushing her friend.
"It doesn't fit my ideology," she replied pushing back.
"Oh?"
"Oh."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Angel saw this was quickly going down the road of teenage nonsense. Mentally he cursed Bishop and himself. Aloud he asked what was wrong with karate's "ideology."
"Too much on the offensive. I'm not an attacker type person."
Not an "attacker type person?" God save them all.
"You know," Carmen said, breaking into his thoughts, "there are different kinds of martial arts like jujitsu, aikido, tae kwon do and more still. Wu shu."
She was right. Why didn't Christina take one of those?
"I know, but do you know one that's based on more defense first kinda moves?"
Carmen shrugged.
Well, he taught a mix of things. Angel was sure he could find a style that fit her.
"Ha, see now you have no more excuses."
"Mudo crudoff," Christina swore.
"God, what am I going to do with this girl?" Angel was pacing again. Ever three turns or so he ran a hand through his hair. "Supposedly she's not the 'attack type'." Pleadingly, he looked into the viewer. "Wesley, help."
Pushing his glasses up his nose, he said, "Well, first off would you stop? Hasn't anyone ever told you how annoying that is?"
"Bishop, day before yesterday."
"Yes, well, I can see you didn't take it to heart. Secondly, why are you so worked up about the girl anyway? You've known her, what, all of three days?"
"Two, she didn't show up today."
"Ah, I see. Um, well then, um . . . Bloody hell man, stand a moment will you?!"
Taking a deep, necessary-to-force-some-calm breath, Angel stopped. "Sorry. Better?"
"Much. Now, where was I?"
"Wondering why Christina's gotten under my cold skin."
"Right," Wesley fiddled with his glasses. It was a day and age in which he didn't need them, but they were comforting. "So, why is she getting to you?"
Angel shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know. She's just so," he paused searching for the word but falling back on the one on his tongue, "wrong. I don't know, it just feels like she was never meant to be a Slayer." With a sigh, he sat in the big old fashioned wing chair he kept in his New York apartment. Being a vampire it didn't bother him that he'd been holding his breath for nearly eight minutes. He hadn't noticed. "If the Council were asking my opinion --"
"Which they aren't."
"-- I'd tell them to leave her alone and find another."
"There isn't another," Wesley reminded him softly.
"I know."
"Bodalay people, I bring company," Christina called out. "Hey Burma, where's Phoenix and Angie?"
The big man, he was built like a linebacker, engulfed her in a bear hug. "Phoenix's down the hall at the copy place. She's probably yelling at the copy lady by now," he went on though he hadn't released her. "Angie's playing Snood. Who's the hombre?"
"Angel."
"Hey Angel, I'm Burma." He extended his meaty hand, swallowing Angel's.
"Hey," the vampire replied.
There was a tapping on Burma's chest. "What?" He looked down.
"Breathing issues," Christina gasped.
Immediately, the big man released her. "Sorry."
"Hey, at least this time my eyes didn't bug out and I didn't turn blue in the face." Both men looked at her in shock. "Hey," she exclaimed, raising both hands, "joking here, just joking. Good grief, two men with literalitis in one room.
"Come on," she said, leading Angel by the hand, "let's meet Angie." Christina pulled him into a side room, dropping books bag and jacket as she went.
At the far end of the room facing away from them, facing the wall, a curly haired girl sat. She stared intently at a virt screen, fingertips lightly resting on something at bottom center.
"Bodalay, Angie. I brought something for you to drool over."
"Really," she asked, swiveling inher chair. "Well, introduce, don't be rude now."
Christina made a face. "Angel, this is Angelina, Angelina Angel. Happy?" She asked first the girl then the vampire. "Great."
"So you're the reason Chris here hasn't been going out with us on our weekly rounds. You are Angel the martial arts teacher, yes?"
"Uh huh."
"Tarnation and tail feathers!"
They both turned at the unusual exclamation.
"What do you think you're doing?" Angie looked at her friend.
"Trying to get this drop for you," Christina replied, focused on the screen. "Ha! Got it and got your danger bar to zero."
Angel looked over their shoulders, curious. He was met with a confusing mix of faces arranged in no particular pattern. If there were a point to this game, he didn't see it.
"Okay, you got me a mondo drop, now go way."
"Aw, come on. Let me play while you and Angel talk."
"About what?"
Christina shrugged. "Tell him 'bout what we do, what this club's all about. You're curious, aren't you Angel," she asked without turning.
"Actually, I am."
"See. Give him the spiel, give'im the great tour and I can play." She sounded almost desperate in her need.
Angie sighed. "Okay, but you better not get smushed.
"I love you, too."
"Just play." She gestured for Angel to follow. "Now for the, uh, grand tour."
"You know," Angel said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "you don't have to do this if you don't want."
Angie smirked, unnaturally blue eyes sparkling, "I want to, really. Always enjoy a chance to show off, I just couldn't let Christi get off so easy."
"Christi?"
"Yeah," the girls said with a laugh. "We were going into Manhattan -- shopping trip -- when we ran into one of Christina's summer camp kids. She was adorable. Anyway, instead of calling Christina Christina or Chris or something all her kids called her Christi. We've been teasing her for months."
"But she's not here."
Angie shrugged. "I guess its kinda stuck now."
A short bundle of energy stormed into the adjoining room. "That would be Phoenix. Hey, Phin," she yelled, "how'd it go with the copy lady?"
"You mean that frelling excuse for chumbucket?" she yelled back.
"Yeah."
"She still won't give me a bloody receipt!"
"Well come in the lounge and vent in front of company."
Angel thanked his centuries of human habitation. The girls couldn't here it -- he realized they weren't really girls but it was another side-effect of centuries of human habitation -- but they were creating micro-echoes. It was set to drive him insane. He couldn't imagine spending all his time here.
"Angel meet Phoenix, our project coordinator. Not only does she run this shindig, but she's the only one that gets paid"
"Hey, you volunteered."
"And where would you be without us? Anyway, Phoenix, this is Angel, Christi's friend and martial arts teacher.
Phoenix extended her hand. Angel shook it. "So you're the hombre with the black belt and three classes a week. Nice to meet you."
"Same here," he replied. "So Angelina was just about to tell me what you guys do around here."
"Oh you know, the usual college students saving the world from the evils of government bureaucracy. Everything from transport hikes -- "
"To tuition hikes," Angie interjected. "That's my project."
"Christina just dropped hers."
They were sitting in the various chairs and couches that made up the lounge. Angelina sat up. "Really, when?"
"Earlier today."
"Where was I?"
"How should I know?"
"Christi," Angie yelled, "get your project-dropping butt in here."
"Why should I?"
"Because I want you to and because yelling like this is annoying."
"Just do what she says, I can't work like this," Burma added.
Christina appeared, leaning on the door frame. "You called me away from Snood why? Hey Phin."
"I heard you dropped your project."
"Cha, so?"
"So, why? I mean, well, why?"
Before she could answer Angel asked, "What was your project?"
Either she hadn't heard or was ignoring him. "I'll go over it later, Angie. Don't worry 'bout it I don't have enough time, between classes right now 'kay?"
"A perfect ten."
Christina turned and left the doorway.
Angel stood. "If you ladies will excuse me, I have to get out of here." Shaking each girl's hand, he said, nice to meet you again."
"You too," they replied.
Angelina stood up. "Hey, where do you think your going?" Phoenix asked. "We have a meeting, why do you think I came over here?"
"To vent?"
Angel stood in the doorway of the alternate office, watching Christina shut down the virt screen. Turning around to grab her things, she saw him. "You ready," he asked.
"Yeah. Hold this, please?" He took the bag from her as she put on her jacket. "Thanks.
"Night guys," she called to the lounge.
"Night. Later dayz," came the reply.
"Night Burma, catcha on the flip side."
The beefy man looked up from his terminal and waved.
Standing side by side on the up escalator -- "exiting down-below" Christina liked to call it -- Angel finally voiced what was bothering him. "I thought you told me your five-fourty was canceled."
The stepped off at the second floor. "It was."
"So you just lied back there," he said, holding the door.
"Cha. Thanks."
"You're welcome. Why?"
They stood in the courtyard between two class buildings. Christina shrugged. "If I'd told them I was free they would have wanted me to stay around. I wanted some me-time for once."
They walked diagonally across the yard towards a far dark corner. "You know," she interrupted their comfortable silence, "if you weren't here I'd go through the building. It's kinda creepy walking down the ramp alone in the dark."
"I'm not creepy?"
"If you suddenly came out of the darkness," they turned a corner and for a brief moment she was surrounded by shadow while Angel was lit by a surreal glow. "-- maybe. But you're friend not foe, comfortable. Where are you parked?"
They walked past the athletic field toward the old field library. The library had been moved back into LaGuardia Hall after renovations were completed. The corrugated aluminum barn-like structure had since been home to many things.
"So why'd you drop the project," Angel asked.
Christina shrugged. "You know, its my first year, I haven't turned seventeen yet and I'm plunged headlong into this socio-politico-take-up-all-your-time mess." She pushed her hands deeper in her pockets, adjusting her pack with her shoulders. "It's just," she took a breath, "I had to deal with so many people. I had to go to so many meetings and read through so much plas . . . I never felt like I was doing anything."
"Sounds like you did a lot."
Laughing, she agreed. "But I never felt like I was doing anything real. I did policy stuff, which is great, but when will I see it all happening? And yeah, it played havoc with my nonexistent social life," Christina added, smiling.
They stood in front of the car. Christi yawned, covering her mouth. "Want a ride," Angel asked.
She opened her mouth to say no then shut it. "Sure, why not."
Except for giving him directions, the drive was silent. Christina was wrapped in her own thoughts and Angel was loath to intrude
Passenger side there was a sharp hiss.
Glancing from the corner of his eye, Angel saw Christina studying her middle finger intently. She noticed. "Paper cut from some plas in my pocket," she explained matter-of-factly.
Angel nodded.
The scent of blood filled the car. The cut was deeper than she thought. He watched as the surface of her fingernail filled with the forbidden fluid.
"Are you sure you're okay," he asked. He could feel the demon enjoying his discomfort. "Why don't you turn on a light and check it out?"
"It's a paper cut, don't worry," she replied looking out the window.
The scent grew stronger. He should have fed before heading out. "Just check. I got a really bad cut from some plasheets once."
"Sure, okay. Lights up." Christina glanced at her hand. "Tarnati--" the rest was lost as she stuck her bleeding in her mouth. She mumbled a thanks.
"Don't worry about it. Lights off."
Silence swallowed the car once again.
With his peripheral vision, Angel watched Christina pull her finger from her mouth, studying the wound avidly. Find the small slice she squeezed the flesh around it forcing blood to surface. She sucked it off with a soft kissing sound.
You want that blood. You want that power. You can smell it. He could. It's getting stronger while she messes with that stupid finger. It was. She doesn't even know the power she possesses. She didn't. Angel could smell its latency in the small amount already spilled.
Finally satisfied that it wouldn't bleed on its own, Christina turned her attention back to the world outside her window.
Angel fought the temptation his demon presented. They had tasted the blood of the Slayer once before, they could seduce the out of this nascent one. Resisting hers was more difficult than most humanity's. They didn't promise the power he and his demon craved.
"Right over here. Thanks for taking me Angel. You know how to get back on the highway?"
"Down the block, turn left, turn left again and keep going till I run into lots of traffic, right?" He repeated the directions from memory rather than her own telling.
"Cha. See you next week or maybe tomorrow at the Center. Night," she said closing the car door.
One entire wall of the room was covered in pictures. A table held still more and plasheets of information. There were pictures of her walking to and from the camera. There were pictures of her reading, listening to music, listening to people. They were unposed, flat two-dimensional black and whites. Some were taken by Angel, others by whoever liked his price.
These were his surveillance photos. None of them were particularly new, the most recent dating a week before they met. He'd been trying to verify her identity and now he finally had no doubt. Then why did a strange ball of dread and hope form in his stomach whenever he talked to her? Why did his demon enjoy riling him even more in her presence or when her image came unbidden to his mind's eye? Why had Cordelia Chase Whittingham told him to stay away with such vehemence it'd caused a falling out between the two?
Who was Christina Marie Singletary, the bringer of Apocalypse herself?
Beneath the table were the remains of five other similar stacks of photos. Each stack was of a girl, a girl he'd been watching, looking for signs of her power. It'd taken him the better part of two months -- months of relentless research -- to decide on the six. Neither Bishop or the Watcher's Council had been much help. Cordelia knew something, but with the stubbornness of age, she kept her mouth shut.
"We think she's on the East Coast," was all the information Bishop had been able to supply.
"Why?"
"Well there's absolutely no data on this girl. There are no prophesies, no mystical seeings and all attempts to broach the question with either spirits or demons has turned up nothing."
"Yet you tell me to start on the East Coast. Thought you said all was silent on the Western Front about this girl."
"Yes well, those things concerning the Eastern Coast of the United States are more silent still."
"So you think that's where I'll find her."
"I hope so."
"Thanks a lot Bishop, you're so helpful."
"I'll keep researching."
"Do that."
Christina almost hadn't made the list at all. She wasn't involved in any afterschool sports. She had no history of fighting in any shape or form. She got along well with authority and she was an avowed, according to the profile created by the computer, day person.
There was one red flag.
Angel remembered tapping the little icon. It opened a record on school administration comments.
"Well, we knew it was a possibility and probability that this would happen. I had Christina in my office a little while ago. She assures me she's fine, that she can handle it," the man smiles kindly, "but she's eleven years old. She's spoken to George but refuses to do anything about the girls. Of course George and I have spoken, he said the girls seem honestly penitent, not just putting on an act." He adjusted his glasses before going on. "Officially there's nothing I can do. The girls' parents have been called, I called Christina's mom myself. We'll just have to see how it works out."
There was another comment, dated the next school year. "While its no secret some of the older boys, hell her whole class is older, enjoy picking on her Christina's been pretty admirable in ignoring them. I suppose Kevin's pulling on her bag at dismissal today was just the last straw. Sweet, nice, needs-to-do-her-homework Christina turned around and kneed Kevin. I didn't witness the, uh," he paused, "event. Apparently it happened off school grounds so we can't do anything about it. Ms. Samuel came back upstairs and told me about it. I'll try to talk to Christina tomorrow --" There was more but the program wasn't concerned with it.
Angel remembered scanning through the rest of the file. There'd been another two incidents for seventh grade. Eighth was very quiet, but the computer found something nonetheless.
"Christina's doing better. She's going to Randolph but that's all in her records. Talk about all quiet on the Western Front, there hasn't been a single incident concerning her this year. If she weren't so nice I'd say the boys were afraid of her."
It'd been a very slim lead but one more option couldn't hurt.
And then his hired lackeys hadn't been able to take pictures of her on Sunday. She photographed fine, the just couldn't fine her on Sunday morning. He'd personally planted a bug on her which stopped sending promptly at 12 A.M. It reactivated around 4 P.M.
If nothing else his curiosity was peaked. Angel went back through her records. All her teachers seemed to say the same thing; she never got into trouble, not because she went unnoticed but because Christina's attackers seemed to secretly fear her. The girl was oblivious.
It was a very small lead, a hunch really.
"It's a piss-poor hunch if you ask me," Gunn had said.
Beside him Wesley agreed.
"Why exactly are you two together," Angel asked.
The two elderly men looked at each other then Angel through the viewcam. "Karoake," Wesley answered.
"Yeah, Keisha's," his granddaughter, "making the rounds tonight and we're doing karoake," Gunn added.
"Karoake," Angel said speculatively.
"Right."
"Together."
"Uh huh."
"To sing?"
"Maybe."
"This conversation has gone on way too long. Later."
It had been a very thin lead to go on. Angel hadn't been it was even worth it until that night. She was what they'd been searching for, what they would need most -- they didn't have enough time.
Why couldn't Cordelia understand. She was still the Seer. What did she see that was so wrong and why wouldn't she tell him? He'd gone through the Council records himself. The end of Katarina's tenure and Olivia's immaturity were foretold then there was a four year silence.
"Harder."
Oomph.
"Again."
Oomph.
"Harder."
Oomph.
"You're holding back."
Oomph. "I'm not."
"You are."
Oomph.
"Harder!"
Oomph.
"You're wasting my time."
"Am not." Oomph.
"You're holding back, i.e. wasting my time."
"I. Am. Not!" Riiiip! "Oh my God, I'm sorry Angel, I'm so sorry."
"Don't be."
"It's just . . . I mean . . . I didn't mean --"
"You stopped holding back. That's a good thing."
"It's just that its so late and my friends and work are making me crazy. And then all that stuff you were saying --"
"I know. That was the point."
"You wanted that to happen?"
"I was hoping it would."
"What's going on?"
"Don't worry about it?"
"What's going on?"
"It's not an issue, I promise."
"What's. . . going . . . On?"
"You didn't hold back that last time, right?"
"Cha."
"But you didn't realize you were pulling your punches, did you?"
"Right."
"And now you know you've got the potential, right?"
"Cha."
"Exactly."
There was a knock on the door. Phoenix looked up. "Hi, Angel right? How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Christi." He'd taken to using their pet name for her.
"Well she hasn't been by the club room all day. Actually she hasn't been around much at all this week but she's s'pose to show up soon."
"Mind if I hang out?"
Phoenix shrugged.
"Angel, hey, why're you standing in the door?" Christina smiled up at the dark man.
There was a catcall from the other side. "What's with the look."
"Hey Phin." She looked down at herself. "This, a shimmer skirt and a workshirt and boots?"
"Excuse me, but aren't you jeans and t-shirt girl?"
Christina shrugged uncommitedly, a little coldly Angel thought. A situation was brewing. He tapped her shoulder. "Ready to go?"
She turned from Phoenix, "Yeah," and walked out.
"Hey," she called after them, "do we know how to say good-bye?"
Christina kept walking, Angel in tow.
On the escalator he asked, "What happened back there?"
"Don't concern yourself about it," came her ambiguous reply.
"Are you all right? You're not usually so -- cold." The got off and walked out the double doors.
"It's nothing really, just a lot of junior high/high school crap. Club intrigue." Christina strode across the courtyard and down the ramp.
The car doors were open before she pulled at the passenger side . . . a little too forcefully. Driving home with Angel had become rote. "Upset?"
She fumed for a little while before answering, "Noticed?"
"Okay, don't take your fury out on me."
Sighing she apologized. "It's just that this stuff is so petty, its so dumb."
"But its bothering you to no end."
"Because it was covert and it involved me. I don't like it when people go behind my back," she ground out.
The lights of the college, and the source of her anger, retreated in the rearview mirror. He found her staring into it and her side view mirror as if willing her antagonizers to confront her. There were minuscule tremors running through her body and Angel thought he tasted salt in the air.
Desperation seemed to mold itself to her.
"My birthday's coming up," she started. "My mom's throwing a party -- really a get together -- for me," Christina said slowly with forced calm. "It's really a 'I want to meet your new friends' kind of thing, my birthday's just a good excuse."
For a moment she didn't say anything but stared out the window at the passing cars and passing lights. She sighed and was calmer still. Meeting his eyes through the rearview mirror she said, "Would you like to come."
Angel knew her birthday was coming. The information was part of her personal profile. By inviting him to the get together she'd solved a problem for him.
Christina misread his silence for hesitance. "It's not going to be on Thursday, just to let you know," she said talking to his eyes. "Carmen and Carlo are coming over so we're going to have it Friday -- school and all, you know."
"Sure I'll be there."
A deep pulsating took the place of his heart. Angel followed it up the twisting staircase. This was his first time approaching the apartment from the front. To his surprise the door opened as he approached. He didn't know they had that kind of technology.
"We don't," came an answer. Christina popped her head around the door. "Would you come in already? I can't close the door until you're inside." She hadn't noticed his pause. "Lemme get your coat. Don't worry you're not last," she rambled on, taking the surprising heavy garment and hanging it up. "This is the humble abode," she commented leading him down the hall. "We passed my room --" with the art supplies in the window, he added mentally, "-- and the bathroom and finally Mom's room." Better known as the family library.
"You know Carmen and Carlo." They'd left the long hallway and stood at the threshold of the living room. The other two C's waved. "Don't worry I've made them promise not to call you Sensei.
"Um this is, is -- its right on the tip of my tongue!"
The young woman Christina tried to name stood and plucked her friend. "Thanks a lot Chris."
"Hey! And don't call me 'Chris' around Mom."
"Hi, my name is Rebecca," she said ignoring her friend and extending her hand. "And you are?"
"Angel."
"Ah," she said, raising an eyebrow, "so you're Angel."
Christina shook her head at her friend's flirtatious behavior.
Angel responded with an charming smile of his own. "Whatever she said," he leaned down for a conspiratal stage whisper, "it's all true."
"Ooo," Rebecca purred, "I like him." She took his arm possessively and drew Angel to the couch.
He threw Christina a trapped look.
"Becca, you can't claim him yet, " she said extricating the trapped man, "Angel hasn't met my mom yet."
"Thank you," he whispered in a tone he knew only she could hear.
Her response was equally low, "Don't thank me yet, you've still gotta deal with her when we're done. "Hey Mum," she said, raising her voice to a conversational tone, "meet Angel."
An older, though young herself, looked up from the platters of food on the kitchen counters. "Hi," she said with a friendly smile, "you're the martial arts teacher at school and the Center, yes?" He nodded. "Great. Sorry 'bout not shaking your hand but I don't want you to have to wash yours too."
"No problem," he answered with a smile. "Uh, what should I call you?"
"Ms. Singletary's okay."
"Okay."
Carlo stepped into the wide doorless threshold. "Someone named Tucker wants to come up."
Christina perked. "I got it. Be right back."
"What about Rebecca?" Angel called after her but the vibrating music swallowed his question.
"What about Rebecca?" Ms. Singletary echoed.
He peaked around the corner into the leaving room. Becca waved. "She, uh, has taken a liking to me."
Pulling a cloth from the sink she wiped off her hands and stepped into the living room. "I hope no one needs Angel because I do. No?" She hadn't really given anyone a chance to answer -- not that Carlo or Carmen were going to, they knew better -- "No. Perfect." She turned back into the kitchen, "You're safe for now."
"Thanks."
"Well don't thank me yet, I really do need the help. Oh, look, I rhymed. Like I was saying, these platters ended up heavier than I thought. Anyhow I wanted to talk to you."
This was a tone Angel knew very well but hadn't heard in nearly half a century. "Yes?"
"Do you do dishes?"
Angel laughed. "Yes."
"Great, lets get started. You dry." They quickly developed companionable rhythm set to the music around them.
"Oh Mumsie," Christina sang over the music, propelling a young man before her, "meet Tucker."
Ms. Singletary wiped her hands on Angel's drying cloth. "Hi, hope the apartment wasn't too hard to find."
"Nah, not at all," the young man answered, "I actually live pretty close."
Christina walked over and gave her mother a quick kiss. "Do you need me to do anything?"
"If you could take that plate of chips out I'd be greatly appreciative," she replied in an overdone Southern accent.
"That'd be no problem at'all," her daughter answered in kind.
"Okay," Ms. Singletary dropped the accent, "but you might want to let your friend help, they're heavy."
The two walked out with junk food. There were grateful cheers from the other room.
Angel and Ms. Singletary resumed their dishwashing. "You don't mind being at a teen party?" She asked.
"Except for being attacked it doesn't seem so bad."
There was a moment of relative silence as one song ended and a lull in conversation formed. Another pulse making song started. The boys added to the sonic mix turning on Christina's gaming system.
"Angel," Ms. Singletary started, her voice too low to be heard over
the music by anyone else but him. "Angel I want you to know what I have
to say weighs heavily on my spirit. I'm not just saying this to say it
but I feel pressed to."
He looked at her. Her concentration was on the sink.
"Angel, I know who you are. I know why you're here. Angel," he could feel her eyes on him, "I know what you are."
Brown eyes met in a stalemate.
Christina came bounding in. "Gabriella's here" she said grinning from ear to ear oblivious to the tension. Wrapping her arms about her mother she exclaimed, "Kiss me you fool!"
With soapy fingers Ms. Singletary pinched her daughters cheeks then gave her numerous small kisses on her forehead. "Mom!" She squealed in mock protest before bouncing happily away.
They really don't look alike, Angel thought. "I don't want to take your child away..."
"But you have to, I know, I understand, that's not what I was going to say." She paused. "You have to tell her. She's going to figure it out and if she does before you tell her she'll won't help you. Tina's very loyal and mild mannered, it takes her a long time to forgive a betrayal of her trust."
All the dishes were washed and dried. With the water off the sounds of cheers and cries of defeat could be heard from the adjoining room.
"Okay," drying her hands for the last time Ms. Singletary ordered, "um take that platter." Angel complied still off-center from the woman's revelation. "Or no." She tapped her foot and chewed on a fingernail. "Okay, take that one." He looked at her skeptically. "Yes, I mean it this time."
Angel was mobbed before he could set the plate down. "Oh food, bless you," Carmen exclaimed melodramatically.
"And then the daddy-long-legs climbed outta her sleeve cuff -- she had them rolled up -- and up her arm," Carlo grinned. Beside him Christina was blushing. "Me and car just stared. Chris, um I mean Tina, was looking at us like 'What? What?' I swear that thing was huge."
"Oh," Carmen broke in, "and then it was on her collar. And still all I could do was stare at it --"
Christina hid her face in her hands. "Oh please no," she said but she was laughing as hard as everyone else.
They'd been telling funny stories and somehow it had turned to talking about her. Ms. Singletary told them every embarrassing baby adventure she could remember. Angel related her first hard fall -- and subsequent fat -- followed by Rebecca and stories from high school. Carlo and Carmen were ganging up on her about their first camping trip.
"So its there, right," Carmen went on, ignoring the birthday girl, "right on the edge of her shirt and its got one leg extended like its trying to wave or something."
"Yeah but instead it starts crawling down Tina's back," Carlo went on.
"Hey," Christina protested, "it did not crawl down my back!"
"She's right. She smushed it before it could get all the way down."
"Well it had been tickling me."
"Uh huh, sure. Right so she looks at me and Car and she says 'What was that?' in a complete deadpan. Me, I'm speechless but Carmen manages to squeak out 'Daddy-long-legs'."
Carmen nodded. "You should have been there. The look on Chris' face was a perfect ten. Then before we know it she lets out this shriek that sent birds flying and she's hopping around camp like a chicken with its head cut off."
"How do you know what a chicken with its head cut off looks like?"
"I've been you're friend all your life Carlo and you have to ask? That's how you run."
The room erupted in laughter. Carlo flushed and ducked his head.
Ms. Singletary came to his rescue. "Okay I think we've taken enough stabs at everyone. How bout opening gifts?" The teen shot her look of utter gratitude. "Come on people, Tina's gonna be eighteen by the time you get yourselves together."
A pile of torn wrapping and tissue paper later, Christina tore into her last gift. "Another one from Mum," she read the tag.
"Girl open up," Rebecca pleaded.
"Working, working," she answered shredding the gift wrap. "Ooo, jewelry box," she smiled at the curious faces, "lets see what's inside." Nested inside was velvet drawstring pouch. Carefully Christina pulled it open. "Oh Mom!" she squealed in delight. Irrespective of the other gifts, garbage and people around her, Christina leapt up and gave Ms. Singletary a hug. "I can't believe you got it!"
"Well you said you liked it. You do like it?"
"Oh cha."
"Well then put it on already."
Out from the velvet Christina drew a narrow silver cuff. Its center was set with a rectangular band of lapis lazuli. The intricate design along its arms were familiar to Angel.
Ooh's and Ahh's went up from the girls.
Superstitious vampires wore similar bracelets as a way of protection against the sun. Supposedly the symbols made the wearer impervious to the sun's deadly force, usually set with no stones at all. It never worked.
"Anyone hungry?" Ms. Singletary asked. Nearly ever hand went up. "Angel, come help."
Returning to the living room, Angel understood her former tormentors' trepidation. Christina set in the far corner of the couch right leg bent beneath her, the left crossed over it. The gold flecks in the lapis winked at him from her knee. She sat with a casual aura of power and reigned violence staring into middle space.
Someone spoke her name; she uncrossed her legs and smiled. The moment was over.
"I had fun Chris."
"Me too." Carmen and Carlo slammed the car door. "Thanks for bringing us home Angel."
"No problem guys. See you at practice."
Carmen leaned in the passenger side window. "Happy seventeenth girlie." They hugged awkwardly.
"Thank you. And next time remember not to call me Chris in from of Mom."
"You got it."
Christina watched her friends walk away. "All right, let's jetta. I know it gets cold around my birthday but this is ridiculous."
"So what are you doing for your birthday on Sunday?"
Confused she said, "Did I tell you my b-day's actually the fourteenth?"
"No."
"Did Mom or Carmen tell you?"
"No."
"Ookay." She released a short nervous laugh and looked at him. "So how'd you know it's Sunday and could you explain on the road, I'm cold."
"So you have a feel for Tucker."
Christina gave Angel and exasperated look then looked at the windshield. "Bad way of changing the non-subject."
"Don't you?"
She let out a breath, "Yes. Yes I like Tucker, can we go now? And I don't see what this has to do with anything."
Angel looked at her for the first time since Carmen and Carlo said their good-byes. "Does he know?"
"Nooo," she was silently fuming. Something about his line of questioning was striking a very annoyed nerve. "What does it matter?
"I have to tell you . . .something." Out of her sight Angel gripped
the bottom of the steering wheel, his knuckles white.
Her answer, "What is it, you have a secret feel for Carmen," was dangerously
low.
Angel didn't want to do it. He didn't want to confess. It seemed he'd come this far only to be stopped by nerves.
"I'm a vampire."
Something broke within Christina. The tension, the anger drained away like water through a sieve. She smiled and looked him in the eye --, "I don't believe in vampires."
-- brown eyes that transmuted into gold. It was if another face were emerging from inside the one she knew. For an ephemeral moment she felt the need to touch his . . . deformities, ridges? She didn't know what had become of Angel's face but as curiosity lost to confusion reality set in.
Christina took a deep breath and screamed. Angel cringed and covered his ears as the sound reverberated through the car.
A different instinct took over. Christina slammed her fist into the vampire's nose, shattering bone, followed by the heel of her hand to his jaw. His teeth connected with a satisfying click. Before he could react she scrambled for the door making sure to kick Angel in the gut on the way out.
Dashing across the familiar cul-de-sac Christina didn't ponder how Angel's own teachings had helped her. She didn't consider his attentiveness or quiet friendship. She ran in utter terror and fear.
"Christina."
She hadn't seen him appear in front of her.
She shrieked and stopped short. Still vamped out, blood ran down Angel's nose into his mouth. Gingerly he touched the healing wound. Inside the demon crowed. It could sense his unease, could smell her fear and almost taste it in her blood.
"So," Christina asked, capturing the attention of both demon and man, "what are you gonna do now, bite me?"
"No," Angel answered. But he wants to, came the demon's reply as though she could hear. "I need your help."
Christina laughed but it touched on hysteria. Her mind probably couldn't take much more shock.
A scream reverberated in the distance.
Vampire and Slayer stood frozen. Christina's breathing was suddenly loud in the cold autumn air. A blank look settled on her face as her eyes met Angel's.
"Carmen," she mouthed, her brain only completing half the equation.
Time began again as another load of adrenaline flooded her body. Seeing without seeing Christina pushed past Angel, running. She hurdled the low wall separating the cul-de-sac from the apartment complex. Angel was at her heels. Familiar as the area was, he trusted Christina's direction. This had been her home for thirteen years.
The lights meant to make the little park feel safe became sinister. Shadows from naked trees shifted, writhing like clawed arthritic hands. Christina saw none of it.
A new kind of fear enveloped her. She skidded to a halt sliding on her knees under the orange lamplight over the prone body of her friend. "Carmen," she whispered looking for a pulse. Muttering at her inefficiency Christina picked up her best friend's hand but stopped midway. Her fingertips were covered in blood.
"Nine-one-one. Call 911." Her voice was growing shrill. The stresses of the past half hour had successfully broken her calm demeanor. "Car, Car honey," she said stroking the older girl's hair, "please open your eyes." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Carmen please!" she screamed.
Angel could smell his student's lifeblood, Christina's saline grief and the stink of another vampire. "Christina," he said pulling at her shoulders, "come away. She's dead," he said quietly. Christina was crying uncontrollably now. "Stand up Christi. The ambulance is on its way," but she didn't move. She couldn't move.
Locked in her grief and the chemical aftermath of excess adrenaline she heard without hearing.
Finding no resistance, Angel pulled the girl into his embrace. Arms tucked in close, Christina sobbed into his shoulder. Again Time seemed to subside as Angel's arms, her tears and her own warm body becoming her reality.
Eventually the tears stopped. Huddled in Angel's arms Christina breathed in his cologne. She was existing without thought.
Sirens broke the serenity. Time took over.
They sat outside Christina's apartment. For over an hour they had been questioned numerous times by detectives about Carmen's death. What was their relation to the deceased? Had they seen anyone? Where were they when they heard the scream?
The questions ran together, began to repeat until, despite regaining her semblance of calm, Angel had insisted on taking Christina home. They would answer all the questions in the world so long as she didn't have to endure this on her birthday.
"I'm sorry," Angel said, not quite able to meet Christina's eyes.
"It wasn't your fault," she said quietly. There was resolve in her voice. "If anything I'm to blame." Before he could protest Christina pressed on, "If I had known, if I hadn't --," she shook her head, "I've decided I'm going with you to LA. I'll have to get my school credits transferred --"
"Done."
"--and tell my mom --"
"She knows I don't know how but she knew what I was from the beginning."
"-- then we can leave . . . after the funeral."