Spoilers for: Buffy season seven, Angel season four.
Character: Angel, mostly.
Rating: PG, mild violence and language.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Inspired partly by a conversation with angearia.
Summary: Angel arrives at the temple in End of Days and gets ready to make his entrance.
AS HE ENTERS THE CRYPT, ANGEL THINKS:
OK, all set to go talk to Buffy. My agents tell me Buffy’s here. I can’t believe that I have agents here. Lilah started sending men to keep watch on Buffy before I took the deal? I really hope they weren’t going to hold her hostage or something if Connor hadn’t…. I mean, it’s better this way, he’s happy, Cordelia’s getting manicures day and night, I can get manicures day and night, maybe without remembering the whole being on the outs with me for a year Wesley won’t be so smug all the time and might shave once in a damn while. Everybody wins. OK, here’s the place! “Guys, you can go home. I can take it from here.”
“You’re the boss,” one of them said. I hope I really do die in this final battle because I am really not looking forward to hearing that all the time. I push the door open, and walk in. I will take my time—Buffy probably won’t see me right away, and I can figure out what the best moment to make my approach will be. I should have thought this through more. No, I’ll go in.
Wait. Buffy’s fighting some guy. Looks pretty strong. Probably not human, though hard to tell from this distance, but—I mean, that strength. I hope she’s not dating him. She probably is. This is the worst.
OK, well, I guess this is as good a time as any. Man, I wish I still had that tele-mirror. Back when Lilah was giving the tour there was this big TV screen where there were a bunch of cameras everywhere and the screen flipped it and showed it back to you so it was like a mirror. It was almost as good as feeling the sunlight for the first time in ever. I mean, not really, it’s not like I like to look at myself that much or anything. I did make good use of it to fix my hair though. I mean, there were a few strands that were loose. It is hard having to feel around for it to get everything into place, it’s great how modern technology is compensating for these types of things. I like the shirt I picked out too. It’s a kind of grey, but in certain lights it looks almost purplish. Really sets the mood. Still, I wish I could see myself now though, just to freshen up a bit. I should have asked R&D if they had, like, a pocket-sized one. I bet if I’d put Fred on it before coming here I’d have one by now.
What about my shirt? I don’t want to be all buttoned up, that’d look like I’m so professional. She’d know I sold out, went corporate. No, I’m just an ordinary guy. I’m the same guy I always was. I don’t think Buffy ever talked about my fashion sense. Maybe I dressed too well. She’s going to see the effect of Cordelia on me. Don’t think about her.
OK, top button is already undone. See? Simple. Undo another one maybe. Huh, that guy really is strong. I’m sure she’s not dating him. Oh, he’s a priest! Wait, Buffy’s fighting a priest? I mean, I know that she’s not really been one for the whole God thing, but I always thought…. Well anyway. What if I undo two buttons? Three? Ugh, no, I can’t do three. Too much chest showing. I don’t want to look desperate. I’m not desperate, I am totally cool. Cucumber. OK, here I go. Wait, second button. No. Wait.
I mean, I haven’t seen her since we talked after she got brought back to life. That’s been two years, almost. Or, a year. It was hard to keep track in the water and all those weeks with no sunlight to break up the days. I used to keep a calendar around but I kept forgetting lately. I should really have checked the date when I signed on to join Wolfram & Hart. It’s the little things.
Wow, that guy keeps talking. Maybe there’ll be an in. I bet that if I came in with a really good pun it’d really set the tone the way I want it to be. Yeah, that’s it. OK, what is he saying. Think, Angelcakes, think. Ugh. I can never tell Lorne I called myself that.
OK, what did he just say?
“Ha ha ha ha! You're not slipping out of this fight, girl. Can't you see? You can't stop me. I can just keep going back for more. It's like being reborn.”
OK, reborn…reborn, like when you were reborn and we argued…no. Hm. Can’t you see. Can’t you SEE…I can see that you’re a jerk! No. That’s no good. Wait, am I actually mumbling these out loud? No, I can’t give myself away before I’ve got a good opening line. It’s been two years, this is probably the end of the line for me, I want to go out with a bang.
They seem to be fighting pretty hard. Oh he’s talking some more. “You know, I gave you ample warning. Told you not to interfere, but you chose not to heed.” Warning! Warning about…warning lights. Global warning? No, that’s warming. I mean, I don’t pay attention that much anyway, no body temperature, it’s hard to—I should have checked on that before leaving, whether we’re, I mean, whether Wolfram & Hart is behind that. Ample? Ample…. Man, there’s only one word I can think to go after “ample” and I’m pretty sure that’s not going to go over well.
Oh man! He’s gonna kill her! I have to stop him now. OK, I’m sure I’ll come up with something witty at the last moment.
OK, here it goes…here it goes…
“Hey!” And I knock the guy from behind. “Hey”? Really. Urgh. OK, Angel, gotta keep thinking, maybe something else will come to you. Oh I know! I’ve got it! This’ll really show her. She’ll like this one. Ugh, why couldn’t I have come up with it first.
A MINUTE EARLIER, SPIKE ENTERS THE CRYPT, THINKING:
Wait. Who’s that dark-clad figure over there? Oh don’t tell me. Ughh. What is Angel bloody doing here? And he’s—he’s talking to himself? Is he talking to the First? Is the First talking to him, because he should stop stealing the things I’m doing because really it’s not fair for him to waltz in and start talking to MY FIRST and—wait. He’s moving in. I should follow. I take a few steps and see a bit better and—and—oh no! Buffy’s in there and she’s fighting Caleb! I should—oh. Angel just stepped in, yelled “hey” and punched him. Right. Always the sodding hero. And he has a nice shirt on, too. I like the way the purplish grey shirt plays against the black. I didn’t know it’d be a competition! I would have changed. I mean, no I wouldn’t have. Sod off, like I’m going to compete with that…hunk of…coal. Coal, because, coal is...black. Well maybe I can at least deliver a few bons mots—
Wait, what did he just say? “I never was much for preachers.” Damn.
Buffy sidles up to me, but not really Buffy, it’s the First obviously. She says exactly what’s on my mind. “You just know there’s no way you can top a line like that.”
- Fic: Making a Good Entrance (BtVS/AtS)