Title: Among Angels & Demons
By: Draco119
Rating: PG–13
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters from “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” or “Angel”. Everything belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I’m just borrowing a few members from the Scooby Gang and from Angel Investigations. Also, I think I need to mention ‘Lucky Strike’ cigarettes in this disclaimer. Just to be on the safe side.
Feedback: Yes Please.
Hi everyone! Sorry it took me so long to get Part 2 up. The story is developing slowly so a lot of question will remain unanswered in this part. But I promise everything will be explained in time.
Also this is totally AU. I'm sorry for not mentioning it before. I slapped myself across the forehead when I realized that I didn't tell you guys in the summary. Sorry.
Thanks so much for everyone who left feedback. I was so happy with the response.
irishlassie101, dreamspace, wiccanbotanist, xonethousandtears08x, White Witch, Still Waters T, amazonaa, stillrunning, thank you so much!
I was very happy! My sneaky plan to confuse everyone by the end of part 1 worked! Yay!
Now on to Part 2. Enjoy!
~ Part 2 ~
The morning sun stretched over Sunnydale, its light finally reaching the outside of an apartment building several blocks from the cemetery. The tenant of room 302, Alexander Harris was still sound asleep in bed, curled up like a cat under the warm blankets.
The digital clock on his beside table read 6:59 am. Then the bright, red numbers changed to read 7:00am and the loud chirping of the alarm shattered the silence of the tiny bedroom. Xander turned over and blindly reached out with his hand. He slammed his fist on his nightstand a few times while he clumsily explored the surface to find the source of his interrupted dreams.
Finally his hand landed on the clock and he flipped the switch, quieting the small time appliance. His sleepy mind recalled longingly back to a time when he slept well into the afternoon without fear of getting fired. Those were the carefree days…happier times in his life.
“I’ve never known someone who loves to sleep as much as you do, Xander.”The voice of his best friend echoed in Xander’s mind. He snapped his eyes open and slowly sat up. He almost expected to find Willow standing at the end of his bed, just like back then. She would come over to his house and wake him whenever he slept pass noon and she would warn him that if he continued being the snack of lazy-bones he was she would do something drastic.
Of course Xander had laughed off the threat. What could Willow possibly do? He laughed at himself for underestimating her back then. On more then one occasion did Xander wake up with doodles colored on his face with a black marker. Each time it would take him an hour to wash off the black marker completely. One time Willow even went as far as to paint his nails red and coat his features with her mother’s make-up.
“You’d make such a pretty girl, Alexandria.”Xander shook his head to try and jar the memories of Willow loose from the cobwebs they continuously kept getting caught in. It’s not that he didn’t want to remember. Willow had been his entire life. She was the sister he never had. One that he actually got along with. It was just hard sometimes, remembering. Losing your whole world…well, that’s not something you want to be reminded of first thing in the morning.
Then again, there were reminders of Willow everywhere Xander went. So he had to deal. He would adjust…the same way he has been for the pass year. With that thought in mind, Xander got out of bed and stumbled into his bathroom. Walking over to the sink, his sleepy eyes glanced up at the mirror. Blocking a tiny bit of his reflection was a yellow post-it. There was a simple note scribbled in his handwriting staring back at him.
~
June 29 ~
Xander scowled at the yellow piece of paper. He tore the note from the glass, crumpled it up into a tiny ball and tossed it into the trashcan by the toilet. There were reminds everywhere.
* * *
Across town Willow and Spike had just walked into the Expresso Pump. They searched the crowd for a moment before Spike motioned to Willow. She looked towards the back of the coffee shop to where he was pointing and smiled. Sitting in a corner both in the emptier area of the Expresso Pump were Faith and Liam. Faith was lounging on her side of the booth, her back resting against the wall. Her bopping head was buried between her headphones where punk rock music was blaring loudly into her ears. She seemed oblivious to everything around her except for the satisfying beat of the band playing on her disc.
Liam was sitting across from her. Although he didn’t take up the whole booth as majestically as Faith seems to have done, there wasn’t a pretty girl who walked by without giggling and blushing, swept away by his handsome presence. Liam, however never noticed them. His complete attention was directed to his sketchbook. His latest artwork was a pastel drawing of a woman’s portrait. She had long, curly blonde locks and dark, mysterious eyes. Her face was almost somber, except for the corner of her mouth that was ever so slightly turned up in a wicked grin. She truly had the appearance of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
“Good morning!” Willow cheerfully greeted them as she reached the table. She gently pushed Faith’s legs aside so that she could squeeze into the booth. As soon as she sat down Faith’s feet were propped back up, this time over Willow’s thighs. Spike took a seat next to Liam as he began to put away his art supplies and sketchbook so to give them his undivided attention. Faith, who was still listening to her music, had lowered the volume significantly so that she could hear her friends.
“So, how’d it go?” Liam asked the question. His deep, steady voice was like a roar of powerful yet subdued thunder.
Willow shrugged with indifference. “There’s nothing like looking down at your own grave to make you realizes the mortality of your own humanity.”
“All right, Red, did you want that to make sense or were you just trying to make it sound that way?” Faith asked a little bemused. At least she was paying attention.
Willow again shrugged. For someone who could babble a mile a minute she was sure exercising her skills at blasé responses. “Thanks for the flowers. It meant a lot.” She spoke softly as though she was suddenly shy.
“It was just our way of showing you that we care and we’re here if you need us.” Liam explained, even though the smile on Willow’s face told him that he really didn’t have to.
“That’s in case you didn’t already know.” His lips curled into a boyish grin, filled with mischief. Who would have guessed that Mr. tall, dark, and likes-to-brood would have a funny bone? Willow certainly hadn’t thought so when they had first met.
“Well, I’m going to move this lovely Hallmark moment right along and get you that mocha I promised.” Spike broke up the warm, fuzzy moment as he announced his departure from the table. Willow couldn’t help laugh and shook her head. Spike never could handle lovey-dovey, happy moments.
“So where’s Anya?” She didn’t ask anyone in particular as she picked up a discarded piece of wrap from a straw that near Faith’s cup.
“She’s helping Giles at the museum. He was getting that shipment of ancient books and artifacts today. They wanted to be there when the delivery came in.”
Willow nodded her head, content with the answer. She was still playing with the paper in her hand when she remembered.
“Wait. Wasn’t the book supposed to be among the artifacts being shipped over from England today? Shouldn’t we be there, in case something goes wrong?” Willow looked worriedly between her two friends.
“Relax, Red. Blondie and the Tweed-Man can handle everything. Besides, no one else knows that the book is being shipped here to Sunnydale. What could go wrong?”
At that moment Spike returned with Willow’s mocha, ending that conversation. He placed the drink down on the table in front of her. “Thank you, kind sir.” Willow joked as she picked up her coffee and took a long sip.
Spike bowed gallantly, swinging his coat behind him to add dramatic effect to his display. Willow laughed while Faith and Liam rolled their eyes. “You’re such a ham.” Faith teased Spike in good humor.
* * *
A few blocks away Xander parked his car in front of a tiny flower shop. He got out of his silver Mercury (3PCE 187) and looked down the street. He looked sharp in his black suit and dark sunglasses. He had combed his hair back and styled it with gel. If Willow could see him, she’d dare call him ‘spiffy’.
Xander walked around the front of his car and onto the sidewalk. He was about to go into the flower shop when someone ran into him…hard. He was pushed back by the impact but did not fall over. When he looked back he saw a blonde woman running past him and through the crowd.
“Watch it! I’m running here!” She yelled at the people in front of her. She didn’t even look back to apologize to him or anyone else she knocked out of her way. He stood there a moment and stared after her.
‘What the hell was that?’ He ignored the thought and opened the door to the flower shop. Stepping inside, the bell hanging over the door announced his entrance. He looked around and took in the sight and smell of all the different colored, beautiful variety of flowers. He was looking at the roses when a young woman stepped out from the back room.
“Good morning.” She welcomed him warmly.
“Hi.” Xander turned to face her. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and the white apron she wore brought out the color in her blue eyes. She greeted him with a beautiful half-smile that made Xander catch his breath. He was pleasantly surprised to be standing in front of such an attractive flower shop worker.
“I’m Tara. How can I help you this morning?”
Xander just stared with a goofy, dumbstruck expression.
* * *
Back at the Expresso Pump, the group of friends were chatting and laughing. However, the mood was crushed under a pair of very expensive, designer label shoes as Anya Jenkins made a panicked dash into the Expresso Pump. She gracefully diverted a waiter only to knock over another. She then stumbled but quickly straightened out her body and frantically scanned the coffee shop with her eyes.
“Anya?”
Anya turned towards the source of that voice. It was Willow. She had stood from her seat when she saw the collision. She looked worried, as did the other three people still sitting. Anya desperately ran to them and slammed her hands against the surface of their table. She was breathing heavily, trying to catch her breath and looked as though she ran a marathon around Sunnydale…twice.
“Guys!” Anya shouted when she finally recuperated enough to put words together. She looked fearful as she swallowed to wet her dry throat. She glanced around the table at each of her friends to make sure she had every ones attention.
“We have a serious problem!” Anya stated critically in that special way that said,
‘we’re so fucked.’ TBC …
Let me know what y'all think, okay? Please!?
Edited by: Draco119 at: 4/17/05 1:19 am
Oh my... What an interesting premise we have here. Geez, you had me fooled the whole time, ya know? Here I was thinking it was kinda a follow-up to Season Six and then you throw me for a loop. I bet everyone else was thinking that the grave was Tara's too. 
Edited by: 
I did not see that coming! Total shocker. 
Nicely done! 
Cos her and Spike standing over her grave just had me assume she was dead - heh never good assuming things 
