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The one good thing about the talent show was that it kept Giles too busy to micromanage Buffy’s patrols—or even to ask more than one frazzled question about them, the answer to which she was pretty sure he hadn’t heard. It spared her from having to report that, after she took down a pair of vampires at the cemetery, Angel had appeared from behind a statue. He didn’t have any updates about the Master’s plans but he’d noticed signs of demonic activity in a cave on the beach and wondered if she’d like to check it out with him the following night.
It was definitely less cryptic than his usual approach; in fact, coming from him, the invitation could almost be considered…date-like. Purely to be on the safe side, therefore, Buffy spent at least an hour trying different outfit combinations before leaving the house. She wanted to look cute without sacrificing practicality, and whatever she picked couldn’t be anything she’d be completely devastated to get covered in demon guts.
Eventually, with half of her closet heaped on her bed, she went with the black scoop-neck minidress and her trusty black leather go-go boots, plus the new long red coat from her most recent Dad-sponsored L.A. shopping trip. The cross necklace Angel had given her became the finishing touch on the ensemble (though she rarely went without it anyway). Once her hair was up in a combat-proof ponytail with a few strategic locks hanging loose and she was satisfied with her makeup, it was time to head out.
Thinking she would also need to bring non-stake weaponry if she’d be fighting something other than vampires, Buffy’s first stop was the school. Giles was either home or still occupied with talent show setup elsewhere in the building, because he was nowhere in sight when she sneaked into the library and snatched an axe from the weapons cabinet.
Her destination for the evening was the stretch of coastline at the northwest edge of town, past the warehouses and docks. There was no sign of Angel when she arrived, but she quickly spotted the traces of demonic activity he’d described. There were tracks in the rocky sand a little away from where any beach-goers were likely to wander: almost human-shaped footprints, except that they were a little too narrow and ended in claws rather than toes. They ran alongside a wider strip of flattened sand—the imprint of something heavy and motionless being dragged along.
With the exception of robo-Moloch, Buffy didn’t have a whole lot of experience fighting non-vampire demons. Her hope was that dealing with this batch would be quick and easy and she and Angel would be left with plenty of time for a long, moonlit walk on the beach. And smoochies.
She’d been following the demons’ tracks for a while when she coughed and screwed up her nose. It started out as a hint of something like rotting meat mingled with the regular beach smells of saltwater, seaweed, and fish. From there, the stench grew stronger with every step she took. The trail continued down the bottom of an outcrop that rose into a low cliff. She could hear clacks, scuffles, and wet, high-pitched, guttural noises ahead, so she made her way up the cliff in search of a good vantage point. Once she was confident she was close to the cave, she peered over the edge.
“You look nice.”
Buffy did not jump. What she did do was turn gracefully to find Angel walking towards her. “Thanks,” she said, swinging the axe up to rest on her shoulder. “I don’t normally go for Viking chic, but I really think it brings out my eyes.”
Angel chuckled and she looked him up and down. White v-neck, black trousers, black jacket, and a thin silver chain around his neck that ended in what might be a sword pendant. Simple, but the way it all hung off him… “You look nice too,” said Buffy, her voice not at all strained. The corner of his mouth turned up.
She belatedly noticed the sword he carried, and a thrill of delight went through her. He wasn’t just here to send her into battle, he was going to fight at her side! As eager as Giles, Willow, and Xander were to help her defeat the powers of darkness, the actual slaying part was traditionally a solo activity. It kind of had to be, but that didn’t make it any less lonely. Not tonight though. “What are we up against?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” said Angel. They both crouched down and looked over the cliff. Buffy grimaced. The demons were there alright, about twenty feet down. They were surprisingly small, maybe three feet tall at most, but they had long claws and mouths full of sharp teeth. They were a mottled gray color, hairless, and almost humanoid except for saggy bullfrog necks. All of them were engrossed in tearing chunks off what looked like a dolphin carcass.
“They remind me of Púcas in Ireland.” Off Buffy’s frown, Angel elaborated. “Think goblins or evil fairies. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to see how they do against cold iron.” He lifted the sword.
“Just my luck,” said Buffy. “Fairy tales are real but only the creepy parts.”
Angel’s eyes twinkled at that. She decided to make it her personal mission to get a belly laugh out of him at some point, but it probably wouldn’t be tonight.
“Any chance they only eat Flippers?” Not that it would make her like them much better if they did.
“By the smell, they’ve done the same to at least four human corpses since they moved in,” said Angel.
Buffy drew back, hoping for a slight reprieve from the stench. It didn’t make much difference. “Think they’re scavengers or that they get their game the hard way?” With those teeth and claws, she was pretty sure she knew the answer.
“I wouldn’t bet on the best case scenario this close to the Hellmouth. My guess is that humans are their preference but they won’t turn down a beached dolphin if it’s right in front of them.”
“Okay,” said Buffy, looking over again and trying to get a count of the creepy little demons. Three were visible from this angle, but it sounded like there were more. “We can attack the entrance, but what’s stopping them from scattering if they don’t like their odds?”
“I saw one going in another way last night,” said Angel. “And there’s airflow in and out. There must be a tunnel that connects. They might try to escape out the back.”
“Then I’ll take the front,” said Buffy. She shot him a look. “How good’s vampire night vision?”
“Good enough to cut off their exit.”
“I guess that’s one advantage of us working together,” said Buffy slyly.
“I guess it is,” said Angel. “See you on the other side.”
“Don’t be late.” She clinked her axe off his sword and side-flipped over the edge. After a rush of air, her feet hit the sand hard enough to send up a spray of it in every direction. Using the momentum from the drop, she brought the axe down on the neck of the demon farthest from the cave, beheading it. “Sorry to spoil your dinner, guys, but the beach is closed!”
The little demons (a total of five remaining) screeched and scrambled to get clear of her axe, but two more weren’t fast enough and soon lay in pieces like the first. They weren’t putting up much of a fight, and yet Buffy’s confidence in the outcome didn’t last much longer than that. A fourth demon got past her and reached for its fallen buddies.
At first, Buffy only saw what was happening out of the corner of her eye, but an odd movement had her whipping around and staring in horror. The severed pieces of the fallen demons seemed to melt and then pour upwards into the fourth one as it touched them. It was adding their mass to itself and growing much bigger.
“Uh-oh,” said Buffy while the remaining little demons cackled.
†
The tableau Buffy wanted Angel to find when he reached the mouth of the cave was one of her leaning casually against the wall of the entrance, the ground littered with slain demons, ready to drop a clever one-liner on him. What he came upon instead was her panic-throwing the linebacker-sized Voltron demon against the wall when it came at her and accidentally collapsing the ceiling with the impact, nearly burying all of them. The little demons caught the worst of it, but Angel managed to grab her and pull her in farther just in time.
When the dust settled, what was left of the mouth of the cave was lit by moonlight filtering in through a brand new hole in the ceiling, but getting back out that way didn’t look like it was going to be worth trying.
“What happened!?” said Angel.
“Do those Irish Púca demons like to melt together into one giant one?” said Buffy after a brief coughing fit.
“If they do, it’s a trick they picked up since the 1750s.”
“And so much for cold iron,” said Buffy ruefully. “But maybe all that rubble crushed them?”
She knew they weren’t that lucky, and no sooner had she said it than the Voltron demon roared and burst out of the mound of rocks and dirt. What was worse, it had grown even larger with what must be the added mass of the last two that got squished with it. Its shoulders were now level with the ceiling so it was forced into a low crouch.
Buffy and Angel shared one glance and wordlessly moved in opposite directions to flank the huge demon. One of them would draw its attention with a big flashy move or a loud noise while the other crept close enough for an attack, then they’d switch. It became clear to Buffy within about two rounds of this strategy that Angel hadn’t brought anything resembling his A game when they fought in the Bronze. He wasn’t just coasting on his vampire strength; he moved like someone with serious martial arts training and experience—not that it was doing them much good at the moment.
Nothing they did to the demon seemed to do more than irritate it. Gashes from the sword and axe healed in seconds, and a chopped-off body part only became a separate little demon again. “What are we supposed to do?” said Buffy after the third time one of them dispatched a little demon, only to watch it liquefy and pour back into the big one. “It can’t keep this up forever, can it?” She fended off a slash from the demon’s claws with her axe. “Did you pass any bottomless pits on the way through the cave?”
“Not a bad idea,” Angel grunted, lunging with his sword, “but the tunnel was barely big enough for me in places. We won’t get this thing through.” It rounded on him with another roar and its hand shot out to seize him by the throat. He leapt back, and it was such a narrow miss that its fingers closed on the chain of his necklace whipping after him. There was a flash like magnesium hitting water, and the demon shrieked and recoiled.
“Silver!” said Buffy, the lightbulb going on over her head. “Its weakness is silver, not iron!”
“Right,” said Angel. He punched the demon in the chest with his left fist, causing another flash when his ring met its sternum, which gave Buffy time to fumble for the clasp of her necklace. She stretched the thin chain between her hands and swiped it across the path of the demon’s flailing arm. The fine links cut through flesh and bone faster than slicing cheese, and this time when the arm came off, it melted into bubbling ooze that did not turn into a little demon—nor did the big one shrink and regrow the limb. It bellowed, clutching at the sizzling stump with its remaining hand.
“Buffy!” Angel shouted over the demon’s howls of agony. She saw what he had in mind and jumped up across the demon’s back, caught the end of the silver chain he tossed her, and pulled it taut. With a burst of light brighter than a signal flare, the demon’s head went rolling. Buffy had to hold in a shriek when head and enormous body alike melted into more of that gross slime. It was difficult to avoid stepping in the stuff, but she managed to hop past it.
“Phew!” she said, putting her necklace back on as he did the same. All in all, her outfit had come out of the battle in pretty good condition. Just some minor spatters on the hem of the coat. “Go team us, but next time I think I want to check if Giles has any books to consult before rushing in against something new.”
“Sorry about that,” said Angel. “This was supposed to be an easy one.”
“Worked out okay,” said Buffy. “It’s just too bad I can’t do something like that on stage.” She frowned at the pile of debris where the mouth of the cave used to be. “Minus the part where I broke the exit.”
“I can help with that.” Angel gestured towards the back of the chamber at the tunnel he’d entered through. He switched the sword to his left hand and held out his right for her to take. She took it, forcing down the impulse to throw both arms around his neck and kiss him. The rush of their hard-won victory may have gone to her head, but not quite enough that she wanted to start a makeout session directly beside a giant puddle of goo in a cave that contained multiple picked-over skeletons. She could wait until they were somewhere that didn’t make her gag.
If she couldn’t feel Angel’s cool fingers intertwined with hers, it would’ve been impossible to tell he was there ahead of her once they were inside the blackness of the tunnel. He made no sound at all, not even from the friction of his jacket against his shirt. The floor of the cave sloped and dipped unevenly and there were many twists and turns, but the angle and pressure of Angel’s grip was enough that Buffy never stumbled.
“Why the stealthiness?” she had to ask. “Is there another demon?”
“Oh,” said Angel. “No, just a habit.”
She snorted. Of course it was.
“Crouch down here,” he said, squeezing her hand, “the ceiling gets low.”
Buffy bent down until she felt him straighten back up.
“How’s everything going at school lately?” he asked.
She grimaced. He was sweet to show interest, but she’d just as soon not contemplate what awaited her a mere three days from now. “Did you have evil school principals when you were human?”
“I went to the hedge school with the other kids until I was ten. We all liked our schoolmaster well enough. After that, my father brought private tutors in for me.” His pace slowed for a second. “Your new principal is evil?”
“He press-ganged Willow, Xander, and me into being in the talent show. And we can’t just be stage crew to help Giles. See? Evil.”
“Oh. Is there anything you like doing that you can do in front of an audience?”
“Two months ago, I would’ve said cheerleading—except that’s not really a solo performance kind of thing. I have come up with zero other non-humiliating ideas, unless Giles can hire a Zamboni.”
Angel shrugged. “Strip away the pompoms and school spirit and isn’t cheerleading basically gymnastics? I seem to recall you holding yourself upside down over a pipe to turn the tables on a lurking vampire your first day in Sunnydale.”
Buffy tried and failed to hold back a grin. “As useful as my abilities are for fights to the death and back alley meet-cutes, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to put them on a stage. I don’t really know where the line is anymore between what a normal teenager could do with a lot of training and what a Slayer can do pretty naturally. Wouldn’t want to draw attention.”
The grin faltered. She didn’t like thinking about the gulf between herself and her peers but it kept getting shoved under her nose. Something about being in a dark cave made it easier to talk about it—or maybe that was just Angel. She could see his silhouette against a faint light ahead, and the air finally smelled less of decay. She thought again of how lonely life as the Slayer could get. It couldn’t be any better for the only vampire with a soul. Some part of her had recognized that in him even before she learned what he was. After another few steps, they emerged into the night at the bottom of a shallow, rocky ravine.
“The first few times you showed up,” she said, looking around to get her bearings, “I wondered why anyone who didn’t have to do this would be risking his life, but I guess you don’t really have much more of a choice about it than I do. You’re trapped between two worlds too.”
“That’s how it used to feel,” he said. She glanced up at his face and found him looking at her the same way he had when she’d bared her throat to him. It stole her breath just as effectively now as it had then. He let go of her hand and reached up, letting his knuckles ghost over her cheek as he leaned closer. She rocked forward onto her tiptoes to close the remaining distance and kissed him. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember what was so wrong about this. Their weapons clattered to the rocks and their arms went around each other. Right when she was starting to get dizzy from lack of oxygen, he gently broke away, but he didn’t completely let go.
“How does it feel now?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“After a hundred years with my soul, this is the first time I feel like there’s something I can offer. Something good.”
For all that Giles could go on and on about the sacredness of her calling, Angel actually had her believing it in one sentence. She pressed one more kiss to his lips, her fingers briefly curling around the lapels of his jacket, then stepped back.
“So…I guess we’re not walking away,” she observed.
“Haven’t really figured out how to do that,” said Angel. She smiled, stubbornly choosing to focus on the humor in his tone rather than the trepidation in his eyes. He picked up the sword and axe and passed the latter to her. Together, they climbed out of the ravine and began walking back towards town.