A/N:Thanks to Megan for betaing!


Chapter 13: Choices.


Half an hour later, when Wesley knocked on the door, Angel was sitting in his office alone in the dark. The former watcher heard a grunt of a reply from within the room and entered, finding himself enveloped by the shadows as he closed the door behind him. The only light came from the neon signs and lamplights of the street alongside the building, but even they didn’t offer all that much. He blinked his eyes a few times as he attempted to adjust his sight in the dim room.

“Angel, is everything alright?” he asked tentatively as he slowly approached the desk. Angel brooding in the dark wasn’t exactly a breaking story, but Wes suspected that his friend’s mood was likely due to the Slayer’s presence in town.

When he had been stationed as Buffy’s watcher in Sunnydale, he had seen first hand the extent of their love for each other. Fresh out of the Council and still a little green around the edges, he hadn’t understood their affection for one another. The world was black and white and this love affair produced too many shades of gray. His attempts to forbid the relationship had of course been ignored, and it was only a few weeks later that he was stripped of his title and abandoned by the organization that he had dedicated his life to.

It was the few months of ‘rogue demon hunting’ that had given him a little clarity and allowed him to look upon Buffy and Angel as two beings in love, not a vampire and a slayer in a forbidden situation. When he had began working with Angel and Cordelia, his life was given purpose again. He was helping to save the lives of the innocent and he had made two very good friends. The group slowly expanded to include Gunn, Fred and Lorne. He considered them all his best friends, his family. And he knew them well. Which is how he knew that this particular funk that Angel was in was more than just a typical brood.

His hand reached out to a lamp, flicking it on as he passed and giving the room a little illumination. Before Angel on his desk sat some paperwork, something which was not out of the ordinary. But it was the sight of a worn piece of parchment that caught his eye. He would know that scroll anywhere.

“Angel,” he prodded again when the vampire hadn’t moved. “What’s --”

“Cordelia,” came Angel’s mumbled reply.

“What about Cordelia? Has she woken? Has she…” Wes didn’t want to finish that sentence.

“She’s okay,” Angel reassured, finally looking up from his desk.

Wesley was confused and Angel wasn’t exactly being very forth coming. Moments passed and still nothing was said, so Wesley made a decision. “I’ll call the others.”

~~~

Buffy had been walking up and down the quiet stretch of the docks for over an hour now, and there had yet to be any indication of Dana’s presence. That so wasn’t a good sign. If she had slipped town, or even just changed hunting grounds, it would take a while to track her down again. It made Buffy feel guilty; if she had patrolled last night instead of going out then her job here might already have been completed. Her thoughts went to last night and all of her regret dissipated. How could she regret what had transpired between her and Spike? She couldn’t.

A tingling sensation rolled up her spine to settle at the base of her neck, gooseflesh rising on her skin as the tiny hairs all stood on end. Vampire. No, make that several vampires.

Buffy slipped her stake out from the waistband of her jeans and held it against her body to conceal the weapon. She hunched her shoulders and changed the pace of her walk so that her steps were slightly hurried and uneven, making her seem less confident, timid even. Being the Slayer for over eight years had taught Buffy many things. Something that never changed—no matter what country you were in—was that vampires would always prey upon the weak and scared. Apparently fear added extra spice to the blood. Buffy shuddered at the thought as she looked over her shoulder erratically, mentally applauding herself for her acting skills.

A growl sounded over her left shoulder and she spun in that direction, her hair flying over her shoulder as she turned. “Wh-who’s there?” she stammered, playing the part of frightened girl to a tee.

Feral yellow eyes blinked from the shadows as vampire number one made his presence known. Dressed head to foot in leather, Buffy could only assume he must have been on his way to a bondage club of some sort when he was turned. Moments later a female appeared by his side, wearing a spiked dog collar and scraps of material leather covering her privates. The female hung behind the taller male, seemingly waiting for instruction as they approached, all the while eyeing Buffy hungrily.

“You know, I’m pretty certain the skank look is over. Last year over,” Buffy quipped.

A second male vampire appeared to her right side, dressed in what Buffy assumed was gang colours: a bright red handkerchief wrapped around the eighties mullet hairdo and a matching red patch haphazardly sewn onto the breast of the denim jacket.

Buffy dropped the act of frightened girl, her posture becoming confident and her stance relaxed as she prepared for a fight. The vampires looked at each other quizzically as her fists balled and raised, the piece of wood in her right hand becoming clearly visible. The female of the three shrunk back slightly in trepidation and Buffy could see hesitation flicker in the eyes of the other two.

The males began to circle Buffy and her gaze darted between them a few times before she got fed up with the cat and mouse game. “Nubile flesh here! You’re supposed to attack, not stalk me to death.”

Matching growls filled the air before they attacked in unison.

Buffy’s left hand lifted to block a punch from the leather-clad vamp whilst she kicked out with her right leg and connected with the gut of the bandana-wearing demon to her other side. The female companion remained still as she watched the fight transpire.

With one opponent several feet away, Buffy focused all of her attention on to leather guy. Buffy parried, blocked, ducked and weaved out of the range of his attacks whilst simultaneously throwing her own uppercuts and jabs into the creatures face. As his irritation mounted his attacks became sloppier, allowing Buffy to spin a roundhouse kick to his head that sent him flying against a warehouse wall. A loud crash sounded on impact and then echoed down the dock.

Bandana guy now on his feet, Buffy turned her full attention to him. This one was quicker on his feet, darting forwards for his attacks before bouncing back out of her range. He got one, two good hits in before Buffy ducked under the third and ran straight at him, tackling him around the waist and throwing him to the ground. Her stake flew out of her hand and skittered across the ground several feet away. Buffy threw herself at the lost weapon, her fingers wrapping around the wood as the gangbanger grasped hold of her ankles and dragged her back towards him.

She cursed in anger as the asphalt grazed her stomach, kicking with all of her strength to release herself, lashing out with her leg one last time for good measure and hearing bone crunch beneath the heel of her boot as it connected with the demon’s face. He cried out in pain, hand flying to cradle his crushed nose and blocking his vision. He never even saw the attack as Buffy’s stake filled hand slammed down into his ribcage and settling in his undead heart.

The ash of the exploding vampire settled as Buffy did a hand spring to her feet to face of the remaining two vampires.

The female was still standing where she had been before, real fear now etched across her face. “M-master, what shall I do?” she called fearfully to her companion.

“Quiet, Slave! You will speak only when spoken to,” the male hissed as he stalked towards Buffy.

“Master?” Buffy repeated. “In case you didn’t get the memo, the Master is dead. And in a few second so will your poser of a boyfriend.”

At the quizzical looks she received Buffy continued. “Master, Ancient Vampire who was the first to walk the earth. Ring any bells?” At the non-response Buffy sighed. “Seems you guys weren’t given the whole history of your people thing that a lot of your kind spout.”

“I am her Master, she belongs to me,” Leather guy spoke, eyeing Buffy from head to toe. “You are pleasing to look at. I may introduce you to my harem once I kill you.”

“I’m a one vampire kinda gal and the place of undead lover has already been filled,” Buffy quipped. “As for your childe here --”

“She is not my childe, she is my slave,” Leather guy corrected as he stood a little taller.

“Not your..? You two didn’t make with the neck sucky?” Buffy questioned. At the feeble negative shake of the female’s head, Buffy exhaled noisily. “Word of advice, if Batman here didn’t sire you, then he’s not your master.”

“Y-you mean…”

“I mean he duped you,” Buffy informed with an eye roll. “Your master is the vampire who made you, not the guy who ordered you to wear--” Buffy’s hands waved in the air at the unsightly get up, “that disaster of an outfit.”

The female’s expression became angered as she finally moved and began stalking towards them. “Maurice!? You mean I didn’t need your permission to feed all this time? And those sex acts?”

“Maurice?” Buffy snickered.

“I-I… ah,” he stuttered. His expression hardened. “I will kill you for this,” he promised as he turned on Buffy.

“Oh goody, back to the non-fighting,” Buffy drawled sarcastically.

With a roar, Maurice threw himself at Buffy, the sudden movement catching her slightly off guard. She hadn’t expected him to move that quickly when he had been so slow earlier. His fist struck her on the left side of her face, sending her reeling backwards. As one, the pair of leather-wearing fashion victims moved forward in full hunting mode. Pinned too close to the warehouse wall, and with packing crates blocking her on one side, they had her backed into a very tight space. This wasn’t going to be easy to get out of.

Lips curled up in a snarl, Buffy launched herself into the air and spun a bone breaking kick at the female’s head, a primal sense of satisfaction filling her at the resounding howl of pain. That momentary pleasure dissipated the second the hard fist of Maurice found her abdomen, causing her to double over in agony.

You had to make with the quippage instead of going in for the kill…

She could almost hear Giles tut-tutting at her.

Buffy tried to stand erect, the movement causing pain to ripple through her chest cavity, indicating a probable fractured rib.

“You will know your place, bitch. I will show you pai--”

The words died in his throat as a sliver of wood pierced through his chest from behind, his bulk exploding into ash that dispersed to reveal Buffy’s ally.

Dana.

The girl tilted her head to the side in question as she eyed Buffy’s hunched stance before she turned to finish off the job. With the cry of a warrior, she launched herself upon the remaining female vampire. Jab, kick, parry, stab and all that remained was dust swirling in the air.

“Dana,” Buffy called slowly, still surprised by the girl’s sudden arrival and subsequent help.

“Slayer,” came the simple response. The lines of blood Buffy had spotted on the troubled girl’s face days earlier were still there, however now they were a dark brown and crusted. Her clothing was the same as it had been, save for a new tear in the sleeve of the flannel shirt.

Dana watched Buffy with curiosity as the blonde slowly straightened to her full height, wincing at the dull pain the action caused.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy apologized.

The brunette frowned for a moment in confusion before Buffy’s hand appeared from her back pocket with a small black gun. Her eyes widened in realization seconds too late as the trigger was pulled back twice.

Two small darts whizzed through the air and imbedded in the girl’s neck, betrayal flooding Dana’s features an instant before her face went slack and her body collapsed to the concrete.

Buffy returned the dart gun to her pocket as she knelt beside the fallen slayer, brushing the hair from her face as she checked for her pulse. Relieved when she felt the steady beat at the neck, Buffy carefully stood again and lifted her watch wearing left hand to her mouth, wrist side up.

“It’s done. Bring in the retrieval team,” Buffy said calmly as she spoke into the hidden mic in her watch.

“Copy that red leader. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

~~~

Spike burst through the doors of Angel’s office, Harmony trailing behind him as she tried to divert him away with her exposed cleavage. It didn’t appear to be working.

“Where the bloody hell is she?” he demanded before he’d even made it all the way in.

Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Lorne and Angel all turned to face him and the somber expressions on their faces cut right through to the bone. Immediately worst possible scenarios began to fill his mind.

Oh dear god no… Not now, I’ve only just found her again and…

The room remained silent for several long seconds before it became too much to bear and Spike broke with an urgent plea. “Somebody tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Fred was the one who stepped forward and spoke. “Spike, Buffy’s not here. She left for patrol over an hour ago.”

The fear that had been chilling his veins began to lift slightly as more questions burst forward. “Why the long faces? Not that the look is uncommon for Peaches, but the rest of you --”

“It’s about Cordelia,” Wesley interrupted. “We may have a way to wake her from the coma.”

Spike frowned. He would’ve thought this news would be something to celebrate, not be the cause for brooding. Realization hit him suddenly. “What’s the catch?”

“Angel’s Shanshu.”



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A/N: Hope you guys like! Thank you to everyone who keep leaving me the wonderful reviews, they mean alot. ::hugs readers::