They were gathered in the lobby, some in the plush furniture that peppered the Hyperion floor, some on the floor itself, but all of them paying somewhat rapt attention to their leader, speaking before them. Only every so often was she interrupted with a question or a comment, but the seriousness of the subject matter kept most of the group quiet, whether from fear of the situation or boredom, she didn’t know, nor did she really care.
It was an intricate plan, one that depended on timing and reliance on a large group of people…but people with whom she had almost perfect trust. It would work. She would see that it did, or die trying. It was what people in her line of business did, after all.
“So that’s pretty much it, based off Cordelia’s vision,” Buffy told the group, sweeping her eyes to encompass all of them. “Any questions?” There were a few murmurs but no hands shot up or questions were called out, and she nodded. “Good. We leave at sundown.” With that she turned from them to study again the blueprints and schematics provided by Angel and his coworkers.
“Meeting adjourned,” Xander muttered rising to his feet.
“That was very Castro-like,” Anya noted.
“Well, yeah, with the cigar and full beard and all,” he joked, then sobered when Anya didn’t return his goofy grin. “She has a lot on her mind,” he reminded her.
“You know we’re going to die,” Anya stated bluntly. “This is going to be the end, I can feel it.”
He sighed. “No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is!” she cried, rubbing her hands over her arms with a shiver. “We’re going to die here, in this hotel, or at least here in this horrible city. I’m going to die with you. And we’re not old, like I’d always planned. And you don’t have arthritis and liver spots. There’s no double porch swing for us to sit on and watch our last sunset together.”
Xander eyes her uneasily. “You’ve thought this out.”
“Well, that used to be how I saw it,” she told him bitterly. “After the wedding that didn’t happen my vision of you dying involved a butane tank and a Bic lighter. If I’m going to die with you, I’d prefer the porch scenario. This one sounds much more painful and not nearly as pleasant as the Normon Rockwell idea I had pre-being left at the altar.”
He swallowed. “Yeah…I guess it does.”
They stood together uncomfortably for a few moments. “Look…we’ve got a plan, Ahn,” he tried again gently. “We’re not going to die.”
“You don’t know that,” she pouted.
“I do know it,” he insisted.
Anya peered at him. “How is it you’re suddenly fully of certainty about this but it took you almost a year to realize you didn’t want to marry me?”
“Okay…this is a major swing in subject matter. Maybe one we should discuss…later?”
“No, I think we should talk about it now. You brought me here so I could help and so I wouldn’t die by the Harbinger’s hands in Sunnydale. You still care about me, Xander.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
“But you don’t want to marry me.”
Where had that come from? “Anya…” His expression was pained as he glanced around the lobby filled with people.
“It’s fine, Xander. Just fine,” she told him heatedly. “But I think you should know…If we survive this, I’m leaving. Leaving Sunnydale.”
“What? Why?” he asked incredulously.
She rolled her eyes. “What’s left for me there? Huh?” she asked, pushing him backwards as she spoke. “You destroyed my life, Willow destroyed my shop…I’ve got nothing there. So I’m going.”
“But…where will you go?”
“I haven’t decided yet. A friend of mine has a house in Las Palmas. Or maybe I’ll go to Europe.” She sniffed. “I always did well in Europe. Some of my best vengeance was performed there.”
“Anya…no. Please. I don’t want you to leave.”
She glared at him. “That’s funny Xander. Now you can tell me what you want.” There was silence between them for a moment before she lowered her voice. “I just wanted you to know what my plans were. And…now I’ve told you.” With that she walked away.
Xander stood rooted to the spot for a moment, watching her go forlornly.
“Wow… That was…are you okay?” Cordelia asked softly, coming up behind him. “I wasn’t listening…well, yeah, I was, but not on purpose. I came in in the middle of things, sorta couldn’t find a way to announce myself…”
“It’s okay,” he told her quietly without turning around.
Cordy rolled her eyes. “I’m sure it’s not. You just got reamed out, pretty much in front of anyone within hearing distance.” He sighed and she approached him cautiously. “You want to talk about it?”
Glancing at her sideways he pushed off the table he’d been leaning against. “Nothing to tell. I left her. She’s right. So now she’s leaving me. That’s the way it goes,” he told her, brushing past Dawn and heading up the stairs to his room.
“What was that all about?” Dawn asked, watching curiously as he took the steps two at a time.
Cordy shrugged. “He and Anya…something. I’m not sure. Relationship stuff.”
“Lot of that going around,” Dawn muttered.
“I wouldn’t know…not being in a relationship myself,” the seer told her offhandedly.
“Not the way I hear it.” Dawn grumbled, then cleared her throat. “I’m supposed to help you with the maps or something.”
“What do you mean, ‘not the way you hear it?’”
Her long brown hair swung as Dawn shook her head innocently. “Nothing.”
“Has someone been telling you about me and Groo?” Cordelia guessed.
“Who’s Groo?”
Confusion flickered over Cordy’s face. “Ah…never mind, then. Sorry. Yeah, uh…maps…”
Buffy stood back and observed her friends, some of who had chosen to continue researching, others who were making their ways upstairs for a quick nap before sundown and the big fight began. She, herself, was choosing to do neither and was instead headed down to the basement for a quick bought of exercise and training to work out the kinks in her muscles. Planning to save the world really got her tense.
“Fred,” she called, heading toward the girl, who stood with Gunn, Wesley and Regina. “You said the basement has a training room?”
Fred nodded. “Yep. It’s right over here, I’ll show you,” she offered.
“That’s where I’ll be, if anyone’s looking,” she informed the others, who nodded and got back to researching without much of a glance in her direction.
“Angel’s got all kinds of stuff down here. I know you have some super great training room back in Sunnydale…that’s what your sister told me anyway, but I think you’ll like this one.”
“As long as it has something I can hit, I’ll be just fine,” Buffy assured her.
Fred flicked on the light switch and headed down the steps ahead of the Slayer. “Here you go… Weapons in the closet…though you might want to ask the boss about those first. They’re Angel’s favorites.”
An amused smile flickered over Buffy’s face. She recognized most of these… This dagger she’d actually given to him herself. As a Valentine’s Day gift the year she graduated… Shaking herself out of the memory she glanced around. “Looks great… Are there towels?”
Fred clapped a hand to her forehead. “Yes, jeez. Sorry… My turn to do laundry and I left them upstairs. Go ahead and get started. I’ll just slip down here in a minute with spring-fresh training towels.”
“Which I’ll then get all gross and sweaty,” Buffy told her.
Fred shrugged. “That’s okay. It’s Charles’ turn to do laundry next.” She grinned conspiratorially. “Use a lot of them, in that case, okay?”
Buffy nodded and watched the flighty girl run up the stairs again. For the most part she liked Angel’s rag-tag team. In a way they reminded her of her own group in Sunnydale. The smart one, the street-wise one, the wise-cracking one… Each member had their own purpose, their own strength.
Speaking of strength… She tested the punching bag hanging in a corner. No reason to, really, she knew. If Angel had set this up it would be the best, the strongest equipment he could find. Otherwise he’d just pummel right through it and replacing this stuff could be expensive.
Taking a jab at the bag her fists shot out and she went through several tae kwon do routines, ducking when necessary and dancing around the bag like a trained boxer. Her eyes shone as she did so. She was never at her best if she wasn’t fighting. How sad was that thought?
Moving to the floor she began one of her favorite activities, agility training. It was a combination of movements, like a ballet that included karate and gymnastics, that Giles had shown her and that they’d added to over the years until it was a fluid routines of thrusts and kicks, rolls and twists to test all of her muscles and abilities. Beginning with a cleansing breath she stood in the middle of the heavily padded floor and cleared her mind before beginning. Right foot, out, up to the sky, turn on left heel, kick out and back, thrust up and around, keep aware of your perimeter… She’d done this so many times it barely registered anymore and her thoughts began to wander when a familiar tingle started up her spine.
Angel was watching her.
Trying not to show the break in her concentration she continued to go through the motions until she’d finished the routine and faced him, bowing with respect to an invisible enemy.
“Not bad,” he admired her.
She cocked her head to one side. “Thanks.” Strolling to the bench she picked up her cotton jacket and dabbed at her forehead.
“We have towels…”
“Fred’s getting some,” she told him. “It’s fine.” It was then that she noticed he’d changed clothes and now donned lightweight pants and a t-shirt. “You were going to train,” Buffy noted, reluctant to give up her workout so quickly. “It’s all yours.”
“You just got started,” he protested, walking to the middle of the room and noticing how the lycra top she was //barely// wearing was damp with sweat. “There’s room for both of us, if you don’t mind.”
Her pulse quickened. “Uh…sure. No, that’d be great. Been awhile since I had a training partner, actually.”
“I thought I’d work out some of the nervous energy before we got going,” he said casually as she moved to the barre on the other side of the room and pulled one leg up onto it, stretching out her back. The tight clothing molded the curves of her body and he swallowed hard. That’s one plan down the tubes.
“Me too,” she admitted. “Nothing like a good bout to take the edge…off…” She stuttered a bit when he reached behind him and pulled the t-shirt up and off, revealing a black tank top beneath it that showed off every perfect muscle in his back. Oh…and his front, she sighed to herself when he turned around and faced her.
“Exactly,” he said huskily. “Is there something particular you wanted to work on?”
Heady thoughts spun in her head and she stared at him a moment before realizing he’d meant movements or equipment, not… “Uh…no, no. Nothing special. You?”
“I was hoping for some time with this guy,” he said, jerking at thumb at the swordplay dummy behind him. “But if you’re up to it…”
Angel moved to the center of the room again and assumed a sparring stance. Her blood quickened with the call of the fight. Sparring with Angel. God, yes. A worthy adversary for once.
She couldn’t hide the grin on her face as she moved to stand across from him. “You sure you’re up to it?” she taunted.
He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I think I can handle you.”
Cracking the bones in her neck she raised an eyebrow in a clear challenge. “Come and get me.”
He hesitated for only a moment before moving in, his fists flying and being perfectly blocked by her tiny arms. He’d forgotten how strong she was. The fact that she was five foot three was deceptive. And you’d better start remembering that, he thought as she ducked under his reach and came up next to him, kicking out and sending him stumbling a few steps back.
Turning, he squared off again as she came at him, legs kicking out, arms punching, swinging with perfect timing. He blocked and defended, then gained the upper hand and sent her scrambling backward until the backs of her knees hit a weight bench. Rather than thinking of herself as backed into a corner, she used the bench to roll over and came up on the other side, jumping onto the pummel horse next to it and flipping herself over him so that she landed on the other side. He watched her go, knew what she would do when her feet hit the mat, and prepared himself for it, twisting out of the way from her powerful kick.
He caught her foot instead and brought her leg up, flipping her head over heels. Grinning when she landed again, perfectly, her eyes flew wide when he followed that move by sweeping her feet out from underneath her. She landed on her back with a gasp as the air rushed out of her lungs. But she could take more, and he knew it. Hell, she expected it, and so did he.
Not backing off for a moment he rushed her and she rolled across the floor, avoiding his attempts to stop her with his legs. Swinging her own legs around wildly she managed to get to her feet. “That all you got?” she teased, panting. A drop of sweat made its way down her cheek and over her neck. His eyes followed it and he licked his lips, imagining its salty taste.
His gaze continued to trail down her body and Angel was delighted when he noticed her shiver. Leering at her as if she were prey, he raised an eyebrow. “You can’t handle what I’ve got,” he told her sexily.
The air was thick with sexual tension and she watched as his eyes focused briefly on her heaving chest. Fair was fair, she’d certainly been checking out his. “Try me, vampire.”
Angel ran at her, looking to her right but turning his hips to the left and his trick worked. She took a blow to the shoulder and stumbled, falling into the pummel horse. Using her momentum from the fall she pushed off of it again as soon as her hands hit the suede and threw herself into a flying kick.
“What’s going on? It sounds like they’re tearing the place apart,” Connor asked as he and Dawn tiptoed down the stairs. Neither of them noticed, nor cared, that they were being watched.
Fred stood on the stairs, laundry basket in hand, fascinated. “Wow… Look at them go,” she commented.
Connor's eyes moved with the warriors. “What happened? Why are they fighting?”
“They’re training,” Fred whispered back. “Don’t interrupt. Isn’t it awesome?”
Only Dawn was unimpressed. “Yeah…so? You’ve seen them train before.”
“Not with each other,” Fred countered as Buffy flipped Angel onto his back and prepared to move in for the “stake.” Angel blocked her arm before it got even close to his heart and twisted it violently, sending the Slayer to the floor beside him.
“Oh…well. Nothing too exciting,” Dawn told them casually. “This was pretty usual back then. Sometimes he was evil, sometimes not. When he was evil it was fighting, though, not training. Big difference.”
“Kyerumption,” Fred whispered.
Dawn glanced at her sideways. “Gesundheit.”
“I never saw this with Cordy,” she whispered to Connor. “That’s the only other person I’ve ever seen Angel train with. It’s like a whole different story with her,” she nodded at Buffy.
“Well, yeah,” he reasoned. “Cordelia’s not a Slayer.”
“It’s…different,” Fred insisted as she watched, her eyes never wavering from the action before them. “Don’t you see it? Look at the…grace. The fluid motions.”
Dawn and Connor exchanged glances. “Yeah…okay,” Connor said agreeably, rolling his eyes.
But Dawn was interested. “Angel and Cordy trained together?”
Fred nodded absently. “He was teaching her how to fight. I thought I was watching two warriors come together when it was those two…boy, was I ever off.” She realized how negative she sounded and blushed. “Not that Cordelia’s a bad training partner. But, like Connor said…she’s not a Slayer.”
Dawn’s eyes narrowed as she watched Angel pin her sister to the mat and Buffy easily throw him off, sending him flying, and landing with a crash. Silently congratulating Buffy, and hoping that had at least hurt a little bit for Angel, she sighed and shook her head. So Angel had been training Cordelia to fight. Wasn’t that interesting? That probably meant lots of times like this…with the sweating and the grunting, and the touchy closeness. With a grumble she grabbed Connor’s arm and pulled him toward the top of the stairs. “Fred, Gunn needs you for something,” she called back.
“Oh…okay,” the Texan murmured reluctantly, her eyes wide as she watched Buffy and Angel spar. “I just need to leave these towels…” She sat the basket down on the bottom step and they quietly moved up the stairs, leaving the vampire and Slayer alone once again.
Not that they’d noticed they had an audience in the first place. To give herself time to recover from an onslaught of punches Buffy flipped and cartwheeled herself to the other side of the room, grabbing a set of Chinese stars off a shelf when she landed. Spinning on her heel she let them fly, one after the other, and couldn’t help but admire the cat-like grace he used in dodging each and every one of them.
“Not playing fair,” he sing-songed as he advanced on her.
Buffy panted, waiting for his next move. “Who said we were playing fair?”
Angel smirked. Is that so? Strolling toward her, almost stalking, aware that her eyes were following every step he took in anticipation of his next move, he wound his way toward her until they were face to face, only inches apart. Unnerved, Buffy uncharacteristically let herself be backed up until her back scraped the brick wall behind her. Smirking, Angel’s arms came up and braced himself against the wall, flattening her body with his own.
“I don’t remember this part of training,” she whispered headily, dizzy from the closeness.
“It’s one of my favorite methods,” he told her gruffly, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the scent of his mate. My mate…
“It’s…ah…effective.” Her brain was screaming at her that this was a vampire! Dangerously close… God, yes. So close to her.
This was no ordinary vampire. This was…
“Angel,” she murmured as he moved in and his lips captured hers. Pressing his body against her she ignored the scraping of sand and brick on her skin and allowed him to push her into the wall, push her through it for all she cared, so long as he didn’t stop touching her. She could take it. She’d take anything if he’d just continue to kiss her like this…like he was never going to have enough of her.
Buffy’s arms moved to his back and her hands skirted underneath the fabric of his damp top. His cool skin burned for her touch and she kneaded the muscles with nimble fingers as he continued the onslaught to her lips. Her tongue moved into his mouth with force and Angel brought his hand up and around her neck, holding her to him, giving her no room to stop, even if she’d wanted to.
Which she didn’t. Not ever, thank you.
“God…Buffy,” he whispered in between kisses. Her calf came up and snaked around his leg, bringing them even more closely together and creating the most pleasant of friction. Hauling her up by her waist Angel held her against the wall while her legs wrapped themselves around his torso. His strong fingers dug into her bottom greedily, grinding their pelvis’s together until she gasped.
“Ahhh…” Helpless, her head fell back against the wall, exposing her neck, and Angel growled low at the sight. Instantly his mouth moved over her throat, nipping in alternate rough and gentle bites until his lips closed over his mark and he suckled strongly. Buffy bucked beneath him, crying out. Her blood sang in her veins, called to him to take her, do anything, she no longer cared.
He held the demon in check, forbade himself from letting his features change, and instead swung them around until he could sit her down on a stack of gym mats nearby. Her eyes came open as she was seated and held his as he lay her back, covering her body with his own.
“So perfect,” he whispered as his lips found hers again.
“What?” she murmured breathlessly.
“You…us…together,” he offered in simple explanation. “Like this…it’s perfect.”
Buffy’s heart swelled and her hands came up to frame his face as she kissed him. “Always has been.”
He settled his weight on top of her, ever so gently. “Buffy…” He waited until her eyes opened and held his before continuing. “I love you.” He wasn’t going to say it, damn it, he wanted to wait, to be sure…but how much more sure was he going to get? When he was honest with himself it had always been true, it had never changed. Denying it had gotten him no where…other than almost into the arms of someone else.
She wanted to cry, so sincere, so sweet were his words. “I love you, Angel. I always have.”
“Always?” he wanted to know, almost afraid of the answer.
“I’ve never stopped,” she assured him shyly. “I know that now. I couldn’t. I never will.”
He swallowed hard and brushed the hair from her forehead with a loving touch. “There will never,” he murmured, “be anyone in my life but you. I want you to know that. If we die tonight, please, always know that it’s only been you.”
Buffy’s heart clenched in her chest and she pulled him to her, hugging him fiercely. “It’s always, you, Angel. Always. And after tonight, after we beat this thing… We’re going to make it work. We’ll find a way.” I’m tired of not finding a way, she thought crazily as she squeezed him tight. I’m so tired of not having you right here.
He held her to him tightly before pulling back to gaze once more into her mossy eyes. “We will.” I know I promised you that once, then took it back, he thought as he stared into those beautiful pools. I had no choice then. But I won’t accept less now, he vowed, and bent down once again to kiss her soundly.
*~*~*
In her office, Lilah smiled down at the image before her. So the host with the most could hear the sounds of surveillance cameras whirring… Didn’t matter. Not when you had powerful shaman in house that could conjure up just about anything you wanted to see with a mirror.
“Mirror mirror, on my desk,” she murmured with amusement as she stared at the scene. “I know which girl Angel likes best.”
The woman at her side took a look at the mirror. “That boy better be careful… If he keeps up this kind of behavior, he might lose his soul again.”
Lilah shook her head and sat the mirror down, turning to look into the green eyes of her blonde companion. They were the same eyes as those of the girl currently being ravaged in the Hyperion basement. “No,” she drawled with sarcasm, “we can’t have that.”
Buffy was gone in an instant as the being suddenly morphed and became Angel. “He’s always had a thing for powerful women…” the vampire said smugly. “And she’s an oldie but a goodie.”
“Tried and true. Nothing like having a backup plan,” Lilah agreed. It still shook her to have to make the mental switch every time this thing switched personas. “Things are progressing nicely, wouldn’t you say?”
“So far.”
“The other Slayer is there.”
“I know,” he nodded, eyes never leaving the increasingly lewd scene reflecting back in the glass.
“They’re coming here, tonight.”
“I know.” Angel shifted and his eyes trailed over Lilah. “It’s all part of the plan. Once they’re here… You know what to do, I trust.”
“We surely do,” she informed him confidently. “There’s no need for worry, I assure you. We won’t let you down. The plan will work.” When the being’s gaze didn’t falter she shrugged with what she hoped was extreme casualness. “And, even if it doesn’t… We always have our alternate.”
Angel stepped to her side and gazed down at the glassy surface. The sight of Buffy and his mirror image rolling around on the training mats greeted him. He smirked with evil pleasure. “You’re right. That, we do.”
