Title: Werewolves of L.A
Feedback: YES! Feedback and criticism (but only constructive) is welcomed and appreciated.
Disclaimer: None of it's mine except the storyline. If it were Angel wouldn't have left in the first place. This is therapy for me.
Pairing: B/A, minor use of other ships e.g. W/O, S/F
Summary: AU. What would life be like if Buffy had never been the slayer, Angel had never been a vampire and the Scoobies had never been just...well Scoobies? This an AU asking that question: what would life be like if the gang were werewolves instead?
Angel was annoyed.
Actually annoyed would be an understatement. Extremely hacked off would actually be a more accurate description of the way he was feeling at the moment. He paced his office floor liked a caged animal, growling under his breath, as he raked his hands through his thick, dark hair.
Ethan had sent his messenger, Whistler, to announce that the Clan would be coming in four days time.
No doubt he wanted to put him off his game, so that when Rupert arrived he would see that their leader was incapable of doing his duties properly and give Ethan the title of Clan chief. He would show him. Angel wasn't alpha male for nothing, and if he had to make arrangements for the packs to meet a month earlier than anticipated he would do it in style.
He stopped pacing and breathed in slowly.
He was calm.
He opened his office door and walked past his secretary, grabbing his leather duster as he passed. He strode out of the building, his coat billowing in the wind, without a backwards glance.
Cordelia looked up from the computer on her desk and raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. Strange. He never left without locking his door. She rose to close it, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
'What harm could there be if she took a quick peak inside?' she thought.
Peering inside her eyes roved over the various objects in his room. There were several pictures of what she assumed were his friends and family on his desk and on his wall was a calendar and what looked to be like an ancient tribal mask. Everything seemed to be in order- she knew her boss was a tidy person and his room was immaculate. She stepped back to close the door and fished through the chain of keys hanging at her waist for the key to lock the room. She finally procured the right one and slid it into the lock. With a satisfying click the door fastened and Cordelia walked back to her desk to finish off her work.
It was sheer good luck that she didn't notice the claw marks running all the way down the inside of the door.
When Angel arrived at the Hyperion it was strangely quiet.
Normally Spike and Faith would be antagonizing each other, while Willow would be 'making with the smooches' as she so aptly put it with Oz on the couch. Buffy would be downstairs in the basement, ruining another punching bag as she clawed it to death, whilst Dawn and Conner would be playing on the playstation. Xander would be in the kitchen – the whelp just couldn't stop eating. Angel pricked his ears listening for any sounds as to where anyone may be.
Then he heard it.
It sounded like a stampede as the whole of the pack rushed towards him yelping and shouting in greeting. To the causal observer it would just look like a group of close friends greeting one another, but it was the mark of greeting from one pack to its alpha. They moved past him, round him, touching him gently and then Angel found Buffy in front of him.
She nuzzled his neck as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. His mouth found hers and she melted against him, his teeth nipping her lips before soothing them with his tongue. He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her chest, and she whimpered as he broke the kiss. Buffy moved a little away from him, as far as his embrace would allow, and it was only then that they noticed that the rest of the pack had slunk off quietly, leaving the couple alone.
She stroked his brow, smoothing away the lines of tension. "What's wrong?"
Angel said nothing for a moment and she watched as he debated inwardly how much to tell her. After a few moments he replied. "Ethan's bringing the Clan meeting forward."
A frown marred Buffy's pretty features. "A few days won't make much difference Angel," she said. "We can easily make arrangements..."
Angel smiled tightly. "He hasn't brought it forward a few days, my love… he's brought it forward four months."
"But that's in four days time!" Her eyes narrowed in anger. "He can't do that, it's right after the full moon and what with the change and all he knows you won't be able to get things ready in…oh."
She trailed off, Ethan's deliberate manipulation of the situation starting to sink in. A low snarl rippled from her chest. Ethan had planned it all perfectly to show that Angel was incapable of being Clan chief, so that he could claim the position himself.
She felt the beast within her stir and she tamped down on the urge to rip out Ethan's ribcage and wear it as a hat.
Angel leaned his forehead against hers and she knew he was trying to reign in his beast.
At that moment Spike walked down the stairs and as one the couple turned to face him. It was an eerie sight, as two pairs of amber eyes glared at him and spoke as one.
"Pack meeting. Now."
The moon shone clearly in the night sky, yet it did not illuminate the men who were hidden deep within the network of bushes and trees surrounding the park in the middle of 47th Street. The crackle of a radio being turned on was the only noise that sounded from the foliage, and then the near silent whispers of a private conversation.
...Commander Alpha Fox Bravo to Base Control. Come in...
Commander, this is Base Control. You have been debriefed on your mission. Are you now in the designated area?
...Affirmative Control. My team and I are ready to go...
Remember Commander, this is a recon mission, not search and destroy. We do not want another Walsh incident. The Hostiles are to be brought in without damage. We cannot test spoilt subjects.
There was a pregnant pause in the conversation as the Commander waited patiently for permission to carry out his duty.
Control to Commander, permission has been granted; authorisation to execute Mission Lupa has been affirmed.
The Commander grinned, his white teeth contrasting starkly with his camouflaged green and brown skin.
...Received and understood Control. Next communication at 0400 hours...
...Thank You. Commander Alpha Fox Bravo over and out...
The night was once again silent as the radio was turned off. The inhabitants of Los Angeles remained slumbering in their beds as one squadron of highly armed and dangerous soldiers made their way noiselessly across the city in search of their chosen quarry.
And somewhere in the dark a wolf howled.
Willow was outlining what needed to be done to make everything ready for the arrival of the Clan, when Buffy lifted her head and scented the air. The pack immediately stopped trying to sort out their latest problem to watch their alpha.
"Something's wrong," Buffy frowned.
She removed herself from her curled position against Angel and moved cautiously downstairs to the lobby of the hotel, her mate following closely behind her. She padded quietly across the marble floor, making a detour to the weapons cabinet and pulling out a scimitar. The older members of the group moved cautiously behind her, while Xander, Conner and Dawn remained upstairs, anxiously peering through the banisters of the large staircase. Suddenly she darted towards the front door and abruptly pulled it open, her sword grasped tightly in her right hand.
There was nobody there.
She scanned outside, using her enhanced eyesight to see into the night and the light rain that was now falling.
Bemused, she turned back inside. "I swear there's something out there. My spidey sense suddenly went into overdrive."
Willow smiled sympathetically at her best friend.
"Maybe you're just tired. We're all a bit stressed with Ethan coming so soon, maybe you're just being…"
"Paranoid?" Buffy looked at the scimitar with a sheepish grin. "Yeah I guess you're right. I mean, I didn't see anything strange out there."
She walked back over to the weapons cabinet and put her weopan back in its place, the group wandering back upstairs to finish the meeting. Xander grinned at Buffy as she made her way upstairs.
"Getting paranoid in your old age?" he teased.
"Well someone has to act older than there shoe size," she commented dryly. "What were you doing up here with the kiddies Xand, babysitting?"
"Hey!" Dawn, Conner and Xander objected as one.
"You make us stay up here," pouted Dawn, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm sixteen for Moon's sake, I think I can handle a little fighting once in a while. I'm not helpless."
Conner agreed with her completely. "Yeah Dad," he whined at Angel. "You know I can fight, why do I have to stay up here?"
Faith laughed as she came up from behind them and she looked at Conner. "Someone needs to look after Xand." She laughed at Xander's expression, and patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, it's really manly how you shriek an' all whenever we come up against something vaguely evil."
Xander glared at her. "I think you'll find it's more of a bellow."
Spike came up behind Faith and snaked his arms around her waist. "Well whatever it is, it really strikes fear into the heart of every demon we face. It just makes 'em so easy to take out when they're laughing."
Xander fumed. "Hey I can do quality violence too. Remember that…oh no that wasn't…there was that…no ... wait… no that wasn't me either." Faith just rolled her eyes and moved along the balcony to the meeting room with Spike.
Willow paused as she moved to go past Xander. "Don't worry Xand, you may not help with the fighting but you're like, snacks guy! You bring doughnuts and other goodies."
"Oh I'm so glad that I have such a vital role within the group!" He rolled his eyes sarcastically.
"Come on Xand," said Buffy, looping her arm through his as she started to follow Faith and Spike. "You are important and you do have a role with us; just not with the fightin' thing so much."
He grudgingly accepted what she said. "All right," he said. "I suppose we'd better get back to whatever Will was explaining to us before."
He received a sharp smack on the back of his head in return from Willow. He turned round to face her. "Hey I was listening really, I just fell asle…" he ducked to avoid then oncoming swipe. "Just kidding Will."
Angel smirked at the pair, and then checked his watch. He turned to the others. "Come on guys, we really need to sort out what to do about the Clan, and trying to kill each other out here isn't helping."
Xander sighed in relief; he had just escaped having a major headache courtesy of Willow. "Hey," he said casually. "We finish this meeting and go to bed and it'll have been a month since anything evil walked through the hotel doors."
At that moment a bolt of lightning lit up the night sky, as rain began started to pour down in sheets outside. Xander looked up at the ceiling as if he could see the heavens through it, and then back at the accusing glares of the pack. "I've just jinxed us haven't I?"
Before a reply could be formed the doors of the hotel lobby were flung open and the group froze, staring at each other in horror as they wondered what new evil they would have to face. They turned to look over the banister.
A wet, bedraggled woman stood in the lobby, a puddle forming around her as she shook out her umbrella, which was in tatters. Her obviously expensive, long black Gucci coat was soaked but not ruined, unlike her shoes, which were now clutched in shaking hands. Only one heel remained, the other having snapped off, and was now peeking out of her coat pocket. Her thick dark hair was plastered to her face and her make up had run, as if she had cried tears of ink.
"Cordelia?" muttered Angel in confusion.
Buffy turned to glare at Xander. "What were you saying about evil?"
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