Title; Forbidden Love; Ch 1
Author Note; Cherene & Alinzar
It wouldn't be this great without her help, thanks.
Rating ; pg; for now
Characters; Buffy/Angel, Willow/Xander, Giles, Joyce, Cordelia
Disclaimer; All characters and some of the script belongs to Joss Whedon
Summary; What if? That's the question here. What if different decisions were made?
Would Angel and Buffy relationship actually stand a chance? Would they get what they
want or would she have to send him to hell permanently when it's all said and done?
Here's the thing.
There's a moment in your life that make you.
That sets the course of who you're going to be.
Sometimes they're little, subtle moments.
Sometimes . . . they're not.
In order for moments to happen,
You have to take a chance,
It is a small one.
It was a dark, grimy district, not many people were out, and none of them had much money. On a far corner, a homeless man crept among the shadows. His sickly appearance and the paleness of his skin, leads one to think that he is starved. He starts to move towards a rat when he sees a figure approach him. He moves away, afraid of being around humans. since he had his soul returned ninety years earlier. Ever since he had his soul restored, he has deemed himself unworthy of human company and in penance for his crimes refuses to hurt any human ever again.
The man comes towards him, as if knowing he is the vampire with a soul. The vampire looks lost and destitute - not entirely sane, even. But this does not deter the man. He walks over to the vampire as he tries to ignore the stink of the place and the vampire.
"This is really an unforgettable sight. This is the stench of death you're giving off here. And the look says crazy homeless guy. It's not good."
The vampire stares at him before turning and walking away. "Get away from me."
"Hey, I'm just trying to help you. You seem to be in need of some help… and a lot of other things... Angel." The man remarked, following the vampire.
Irritated by him, Angel, for that is the vampire's name, stopped and stared back at the man. He was young and wore a blazer over an Hawaiian print shirt. He looked like a bottom ranked Mafioso, which didn't win him any trust points. "Who are you?"
"The name's Whistler. I'm a demon." The man replied.
"I don't want help from anyone that's evil." Angel said, before moving to leave again.
"I'm not evil, I'm good!" Whistler protested "well…most of the time." He added as an afterthought.
Angel stared him down, making the demon slightly uncomfortable. "What?" Angel was confused as to the nature of Whistler's visit.
"Come on, lets take a walk and if you don't like what I have to say, you can go back in your rat hole." The demon offered.
Angel ignored the insult and followed him, unsure of the demon's intentions, but lacking anything better to do.
"You could become someone, you know, someone that could be useful for the greater good. Someone to be counted on, isn't that what you want?" Whistler asked
"I just want to be left alone." Angel replied.
"You've been alone for what, ninety years? And what an impressive package you are, Gollum." Whistler said.
"You don't know what I've had to deal with. What I've done."
"I know what you've done. I seen it. But guess what? You can change. I can see it. You can be a hero but you have to make the first move to make a change."
Angel thought about it and stared back at him. "What do I need to do?"
"I want you to see something. It's happening very soon, we'd need to leave now. You see, and then you tell me what you want to do."
In a flash Angel and Whistler are in Los Angeles, in one of the numerous graveyards. They are hidden in the nearby bushes watching a vampire dig its way out of the ground. Angel looks around wondering how he got there when he sees a young blond girl no more then 14 years old claw herself away from a vampire.
He watches as she scrambles along the ground, the vampire snarling at her. She glances around and tries to find something to fend the vampire off with.
Angel looks down, picks up a sharp branch lying at his feet and tosses it to land right beside her.
The girl quickly grabs the stick. She plunges it into the vampire a couple of times before tumbling over a low headstone. It snarls at her again as she quickly stumbles to her feet and stabs it again. This time her stake goes through his heart and he explodes into a cloud of dust. Her knees give in and she crumbles to the ground, shocked and confused at what she had just seen. She sits there for a moment before jumping up and looking hurriedly around. Seeing no one, she runs, promising herself never mention this to anyone.
"She's going to have it tough, that Slayer; she's just a kid. And the world is full of big bad things." Whistler says.
"I want to help her. I want to . . .I want to become someone. I want to help her." Angel says, his voice filled with determination and hope for the first time in nearly a century.
"Jeez, look at you. In love with a slayer the moment you see her. It must be the blonde thing."
Angel takes the high road by ignoring Whistler's blonde comment. Instead, he hunches further in on himself before asking quietly. "Will you help me?"
Whistler looks at him, a lazy smile spreading across his lips. He knows he has won. "It's not going to be easy. The more you live in the world the more you see how apart from it you are. And this is dangerous work. Right now you couldn't go three rounds fighting a fly, so I'm going to give you something to help you. Think of it as a bonus roll of the dice." Whistler's D&D reference goes over Angel's head.
Whistler hands him a ring. "If anybody found out you had this, they'd kill you. Watch your back." he said.
"What does it do?" Angel asked staring at the unusual design on the ring.
"It's the ring of Amara."
Three years later
In every generation there is a Chosen One.
She alone will stand against the vampires, the demon and the forces of darkness.
She is the Slayer.
Buffy Summers woke up from her deep sleep trying to ignore the hovering sense of excitement and terror. Was it Christmas? Her birthday? Was it school? Definitely not. It was then she remembered the dream she woke up from. Images of demons, fighting, artifacts and a mysterious young man. But the mysterious man was the one that really got to her. He was really, really cute. He looked no more then 21 years old. He had short brown spiky hair, chocolate brown eyes and a very hot body. She remembered the dream vividly. She could remember standing in a cave as she felt like she was falling. The stranger moved forward and caught her. His face moved closer to her's and his lips were so close that she could taste them and then nothing but darkness. She heard a sound, interrupting her contemplation of her recent dream. Her alarm was going off. Damn alarm,she sighed, hitting it with her hand, accidentally smashing it.
Her mom was standing by the door way with her arms crossed.
"Buffy you're going to be late for school... And that's your fourth alarm this year."
"Oh, sorry mom, I was having a very nice dream about a boy…I mean a dog," Buffy smiled reminding herself to keep her dreams to herself.
"What was that dear?" Her mom had moved away from the door.
"Oh, nothing mom." Buffy replied as she quickly got out of bed and went to her closet. Choices, choices, choices she thought, rifling through her closet for something to wear.
Buffy walked towards the school building as Cordelia and her friends pass her. "Oh look who it is, Little Miss Psycho." She laughed. "Are you still trying to kill people with that stick?"
Buffy huffed angrily and turned to face her. "Only you, Cordy." She muttered before continuing inside. Cordelia followed, about to toss out another insult. Seeing this, Buffy's friend, Willow, hurried over, mentioning something about a 'class meeting' before she quickly dragged Buffy away.
"Just ignore them." Willow smiled.
Buffy sighed and glanced at her friend. "Thanks Will, if you hadn't been there, I would probably be expelled… and grounded."
"No, problem that's what friends are for." Willow replied. "Now come on, we are going to be late for class if we don't hurry."
Buffy smiled at her friend and let her lead the way to class.
Buffy was not a fan of the library, but history was kicking her ass and Willow promised to help her make sense of the battle of Waterloo.
"That's an Abba song, right?" Buffy had asked her friend after class.
"As well as a defining moment in Napoleon's reign of Europe." Added Willow as she steered Buffy through the double swing doors of the library after school.
They walked in and looked around. It appeared deserted.
"Hello? Is anybody here?" Called Willow, heading to the large wooden table in the centre of the room.
Buffy hung back, fighting off her library wiggins and leaned against the checkout counter. A copy of the local paper lies on the counter. A picture has been circled. The caption above it read "Local Boys Still Missing."
A face appeared from around a bookshelf. "Hello? I thought I heard someone out here." His English is clipped and very, very British.
"Mr. Giles, hi." Willow greeted, a little breathless from the scare his sudden appearance gave her. "Buffy and I are gonna study for a bit. Got any books on Napoleon?"
The librarian seemed to not hear her, staring hard at Buffy instead.
"Think I have just the book for you." He said while running down the stairs towards the counter. He bent down to dig around a bit before jumping up and slamming an extremely thick, old volume down over the newspaper. Buffy flinched a bit at the noise. The book was frayed around the edges and carved onto the cover was a word that made her blood run cold.
"Uh… that's not the one we need." She ground out through her teeth. He squinted at her, confused at her reaction. "Willow." She calls to her friend. "I just remembered. I…my mom…gotta…" Buffy was already out the door, running hard and fast. Trying to outrun the book.
Willow stepped towards the counter as Giles returned the beaten volume to its hiding place.
"Guess she had something more important to do." Willow shrugged, shouldering her bag. "See you tomorrow Mr. Giles."
Giles wanders into his office, brooding at the Slayer's reaction. This is her calling. Or maybe he just had the wrong girl.
This time I wonder what it feels like
To find the one in this life
The one we all dream of
But dreams just aren't enough
So I'll be waiting for the real thing.
I'll know it by the feeling.
Willow called Buffy at home later that night and Buffy remembered to tell her about Hot Dream Guy. They stay on the phone for hours – a feat only feasible by teenage girls -and promise to meet up tomorrow at school to further discuss the implications should Hot Dream Guy exist and which celebrity he looks like.
If Buffy had to lay the blame of every wrong in her life, she would totally point to the vampires in her life. If it wasn't for that stupid calling sending her to graveyards in the first place, they wouldn't have destroyed her junior prom, and she wouldn't have had to burn the building down. Then she and her mom wouldn't have had to leave LA and move to Sunnydale. She would be homecoming queen and prom queen and head cheerleader and have a very hot college boyfriend. But thanks to the demon underworld, she's single, in a one-horse town with only one Starbucks and two shoe shops.
And just when she's gotten settled into small town, demon free life, a dead body turns up in a locker. Drained of blood.
Someone, somewhere is laughing their ass off at her.
She decides, looking at the dead body of Jesse, that the vamps are not going to ruin her life again. She dusts off her stakes, digs out some bottles of holy water and sets out to find whoever is killing off her already tiny social circle. If it all goes to hell, at least she can offer them Cordelia as incentive to get the fuck out of town.
Buffy is still shaking vamp dust out of her favorite jacket when she takes a wrong turn and ends up in a dark alley. Distant strains of rock music can be heard coming from The Bronze a few blocks over. Echoing footsteps sets her Slayer Alert to red.
Buffy turns slightly, throwing a cautious look over her shoulder. She walks for a while and then ducks down another alley and looks around for a place to hide. She hears a cat yowl, kicking some bottles over as it runs away.
Angel could have sworn he saw her duck into this alley. Maybe his trailing skills are getting rusty. As a vampire, he hasn't stalked or skulked in ages. His brooding however is unbeatable.
He suddenly finds himself on his back, looking up at The Slayer.
She was even more breathtakingly beautiful, since the last time he seen her. She was a few inches over five feet with a petite shape that curved in just the right places. She had slightly golden skin, blonde hair to her shoulders and those emerald eyes. She had pouty lips and the cutest nose he'd ever seen.
And all the while he was taking her in, Buffy had been doing the same to him.
Buffy stared down at her stalker. Oh my god, it's the guy from my dream, she thought. The strange man was tall, over six feet she guessed. He had a black dress coat over a white oxford shirt. The first few buttons were unbutton giving her a sneak view of his toned chest. His face reminded her of those Greek sculptures Mr. Jameson showed them pictures of in art history. He had full lips that she wanted to touch. His eyes were a chocolate brown she wanted to get lost in. He had even darker brown hair that she assumed he spiked. This man, whose chest she had her foot on, made her hormones do the crazy.
"Ah, heh. Is there a problem, ma'am?" He asked, pulling Buffy from her mouthwatering daydream.
"Yeah, there's a problem. Why are you following me?" Slayer Buffy spoke, pushing teen hormonal Buffy into the back of her head.
"I know what you're thinking. Don't worry, I don't bite." He grinned, showing his teeth to demonstrate.
With a smirk, she took her foot off his chest. He got to his feet, noticing she still kept her fighting pose.
Angel rubbed his neck trying to ease the slight whiplash her kick caused him. "Truth is, I thought you'd be taller, or bigger muscles and all that. You're pretty spry, though." He said, lying through his teeth.
"Who are you and what do you want?" She demanded, not letting his height intimidate her. And trying to stop the urge to climb him like a tree, wrap her legs around his waist and… Stop it!
"The same thing you want." He replied staring at her intensively.
"Okay. What do I want?" Because, seriously, he had no idea what she wants…to do… to him…
He gets a glint in his eye and steps towards her. "To kill them. To kill them all." He snarls.
Oh. Yeah. That. Buffy winces internally.
"Sorry, that's the wrong answer. But you do get this lovely watch and a year's supply of Turtle Wax."
Buffy turns away from him, hoping to get home and have a cold, cold shower. Well, maybe a hot shower because vampires are serious mood killers. He grabs her arm, stopping her.
Buffy glares at his grip on her arm.
"You don't know, do you? You don't know that you are the Slayer." He asks, staring at her curiously.
Buffy quickly pushes him away and grabs her stake hidden in her pocket. "Back off buddy, I don't know who you are but if you touch me again I will…"
"What… kill me?" He smirks as he fiddles with the ring on his finger. It will take more then that to kill me.
Buffy stares at him and wanders what his deal is, and why he was in her dream.
"I'm not here to fight or hurt you …Buffy."
"How do you know my name?" She asks, still holding the stake in her hand.
"I know a lot about you. I know that you are more then you think you are. You are gifted like no one else and that's what makes you the chosen one." He replies.
"Chosen, to do what?" She plays dumb. How does he know?
"To kill them all… to destroy evil." His tone is harsh.
"Why me?" she replied. "Aren't there others to do this job?"
"No, there is only one chosen. One in history. And that person is you. And you don't have much time as it is."
Buffy stops and puts the stake back in her pocket. She stares at him again wandering who or what he is. Or even if what he is saying is true.
"Don't have time for what?" she asked.
"You're standing at the Mouth of Hell. And it's about to open. Don't turn your back on this, you've got to ready."
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small box, and throws it to her.
Buffy catches it and stares at it than him.
"Who are you?"
"Let's just say... I'm a friend." He replies with a smile and walks away.
"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want a friend." She shouts at his retreating back.
He turns back around and stares at her. "You're going to need someone to count on. If you want answers…. just open up the box when you're ready."
Buffy looks down at the box. She snaps her head up to speak to him, but the alley is deserted.
What. The. Fuck?
It was one case. Just one. Then she'd go back into retirement. And now? The Hellmouth? In Sunnydale? And Pandora's box in her hand. Did it have her Get Out Of Hellmouth Free card? And who does that punk think he is? Knowing her name and telling her she's the Slayer and shit. Did they put an announcement in the Sunnydale Gazette or something?
She moves to open the velvet-covered box.
What's the worse that could happen? She thought.