By D.M. Evans
Disclaimer - Not mine. They belong to Joss.
Spoilers - none, set before Welcome to the Hellmouth
Rating – PG-13
Feedback – yes please
Summary – Angel's new reason for living is leaving L.A. and he can't just let it happen.
Author's Note – This was written for the Blood Rose's 500
word challenge. The story can be no longer than 500 words and based off one of
the proposed titles. I chose The Journey.
He watched her jump and bounce around, all high kicks and pom-poms. There was no doubt in his mind a man had designed the traditional cheerleading outfit; a tight sweater to show off budding breasts and a flirty skirt showing just enough of the matching panties under it. Angel was entranced as she climbed, blonde ponytail swinging wildly, to the top of the pyramid of young female forms. Spike would have loved it. He was always a veal man, just like his grandsire.
"At least you smell better."
Angel glanced over his shoulder. On the bleacher behind him, Whistler sat eating nachos. The demon didn't lie. Ever since that day at the school, Angel had been obsessed with the girl he had been shown; a newly chosen Slayer. He should have run then and there but something had not only rooted him but transformed him. He gave up rats, raided a store for good, clean clothing, cut his hair and found a place to live. All this for a girl he didn't know, could never know because she and he were enemies.
"Why did you show her to me, Whistler?" he asked, turning his eyes back to the cheerleaders who were spouting something inane supporting Hemry's team, which was losing badly.
"You know why. Kismet, destiny, whatever you want to call it. You and her, you're entangled."
Angel didn't argue. Love at first sight; he had forgotten how he had felt when he first saw Darla. He felt like that again, only stronger, more pure. It was wrong but he didn't care. He was content to watch this girl from afar knowing against all reason that he wasn't going to avoid her like he should.
* * *
He had seen the school go up in smoke. He knew her Watcher was dead. He knew better than she that another one would soon be on the way. Angel understood how the Council worked. He and Darla had cautiously harassed them for two hundred years, give or take but only when there wasn't a Slayer around.
But caution had flown out the window. He had heard through the windows of her parents home that Buffy and her mother were heading to Sunnydale. The Hellmouth, Angel could only imagine how short her lifespan would be if the Slayer went there. He wanted to warn her not to go but why would she believe him? He knew he should just let her go on her way. Vampires didn't protect Slayers, but he wanted to. He was already half in love with her and they had never even so much as spoken a word to one another.
"This is insane," he muttered to no one and went back to his packing. He already had an apartment rented in Sunnydale via a broker. He shouldn't feel the way he did but he couldn't fight it. All he could do was admit he was helpless and follow her.