The Soulmate Series

The Right Picture For It (Chapter Twenty-Nine of Soulmates)

Another day, another apocalypse. Frankly, Angel’s getting bored. What is it with opening the Hellmouth, anyway? He’s rather disgusted with his own demon for that Acathla nonsense. (Just how much overcompensating could he forgive Angelus for, anyway? Especially since it was nonsense that sent him to Hell for centuries) And now he’s about ready to laugh his head off at the latest crew in town: The Sisterhood of Jhe - warrior cult dedicated to the singular purpose of ending the world.

Whatever.

Their grandstanding might well have managed to cow the gullible amongst Sunnydale’s netherworld types, and he’ll grant that they exude a good bit of energy, but to him they’re just another ho-hum crowd of wannabes trying to dazzle with a cheap light show and lots of smoke and mirrors. Beating up Willie? C’mon. Every demon in town and half the humans had done that. And as for the spirit guides refusing to help Giles...well, what had he done for them lately? Angel isn’t all that impressed, even with their statement that they’re gunning for him and Buffy (guess they never got the memo that he is no longer attached to Buffy at the hip).

He figures that, between Buffy and Faith and with what magickal mojo Giles can muster up, the Sisterhood is going down hard and the Hellmouth will get closed and stay closed - at least until the next merry band of morons comes to town with the same bright idea. He can hardly muster up the acting skills to go along with the party line that “this is the greatest danger they have ever faced.” Yawn. Not like he’s ever heard that before. Only every single time a new evil that takes more than ten seconds to kill comes calling.

Still, there’s an upside to this ridiculousness: the strong possibility that the warrior sisters of stupidity could be unwitting allies in his campaign to win Willow once and for all. Because that energy of theirs is doing more than just scaring Willie and impressing the locals...it’s driving Willow’s pet werewolf crazy...and it’s starting the wheels turning in Angel’s mind.

“Xander, get the tranquilizer gun.”

Oh no, Angel can’t believe Giles is going to trust that lamebrained loser to bring down the agitated Oz. Although, really, who else is there? Buffy’s out and about, having visited him first to scare up his assistance and now scouting for any last bits of information before picking up her teammate in slaying, and it’s not as if Giles even knows that Angel is there. Thank heavens Willow’s at home, safe, where she belongs. He couldn’t bear to watch her worry about that mutt.

“Now!”

And he’s out of the chute.

Oz comes barreling out of the book cage, all clumsy animal energy, and Angel is reminded of a big, stupid puppy. Luckily, he’s also a big, stupid puppy too foolish to get out of harm’s way and Xander gets off a shot that even an incompetent like him can’t fail to make. Oz yelps as he’s hit. Surprisingly, however, he’s not downed. Maybe Angel has underestimated the power that the Sisterhood is bringing to the table.

“Reload, Xander!” The boy is fumbling with the gun as Oz lumbers towards him and Angel stifles his mirth as Giles grabs the wolf from behind, holding him in front of him like a furry shield. Good thing, too, what with Xander pointing a weapon at him, though it’s dicey there for a moment whether Xander will actually be able to do the job in time.

At last, though, the tranquilizer cartridge is successfully loaded and fired - close run thing, but it’s done and Oz is snoozing peacefully on the table.

“You better not yell at me when you wake up hung over tomorrow, buddy.” Real witty there, Xander. Maybe you should pay more attention to Buffy when she banters with her foes instead of trying to stare down her top all the time. It might make you seem a bit less useless than you truly are. Besides, even a clueless and arrogant bimbo like Cordelia is bound to notice your Slayer-lust sooner or later and it might take a bit of verbal finesse to keep her from handing you your testicles on a sterling silver platter.

Back to the action. Xander is lugging Oz’s unconscious form out of the library and away from the Hellmouth, perhaps the most unique feature sported by any library in the world, but not the safest place to imprison a werewolf. Angel’s surprised they continue to house him there. After all, this is not the first time Oz has proved threatening. He’d like to know exactly where Xander is taking him, but he figures it can’t be far because Xander is back in a trice.

“One werewolf: successfully relocated. What’s next, fearless leader?”

Giles sighs and rolls his eyes at Xander’s attempt at repartee. Even Angel misses Buffy right now. She has a flair for juvenile badinage that actually makes it entertaining - a flair Xander conspicuously lacks.

“I-I need to set up the circle for the binding spell.”

“Shouldn’t Willow be here for this?” Surprisingly, the moment he says it, Xander seems to realize his mistake. Not as good as thinking before he speaks, but fairly impressive for Xander, that’s for certain. “Forget I said that.” Giles glares at him anyway and Angel heartily concurs with the sentiment behind the baleful look, though probably not for exactly the same reasons.

“Xander, we’ve discussed this before and...”

“Yeah, I know, okay? Forgive me for wanting to pretend that she’s gonna wake up one day and be the Willow I’ve known and loved my whole life. Forgive me for wanting to forget that she hasn’t done that yet and more than likely she never will. Because remembering...and thinking about the way things are...well, it just makes me want to kill things. Not demon things, either. I want to kill every man in this town one by one until I get to the guy that did this to her. And that’s probably not a real good plan and right now it’s probably not the best thing to focus on, so, yeah, the pretending thing is happening a little bit because...it’s all I’ve got.”

Angel feels a surprising rush of compassion for the boy. He seems to genuinely care about Willow and that’s certainly something Angel can applaud him for, though his use of the word ‘love’ is a bit troubling. Still, Angel is fairly sure that the affection meant is filial - after all, Xander has passed up any number of chances at romance with her in the past - so he’s willing to allow him that place in Willow’s life, if it’s feasible when he’s won her over, that is. Unfortunately, there’s still no telling how that all will play out. Though there is a plan now forming in the back of Angel’s mind...a plan to help move things along.

He leaves the library silently, Giles and Xander none the wiser to his having been there at all. His nose leads him right to Oz., locked in a nearby room, and who is groggy, but not entirely dead to the world. Good. He might just take himself out of the game for good tonight - with a little help from Angel, that is.

How to make it happen, though, there’s the rub. Angel wanders out into the cool night air, the darkness offering a welcome refuge in which to gather his thoughts. He’s right outside the building, however, ready to rush in at a moment’s notice if circumstances require.

But he’s not alone. Footsteps, a heartbeat, and a slightly familiar scent acquaint him with that fact shortly before he’s accosted by the newcomer.

“Hey. Umm...you know Buffy, right?”

Ah. Now Angel remembers. If memory serves, this boy’s name is Scott, and he’s a former rival for Buffy’s affections. Seems he’s back in her life.

“Yeah.”

Scott is looking at him as if he, too, recalls that they’ve seen each other before...and that Angel was once Buffy’s beau.

“Is she around? We were supposed to have a date tonight and...well...when she’s not at home, she’s usually here, so...”

Typical Buffy, forgetting everything in an overheated panic. But he’s happy for her scattered ways because thanks to them, the plan is made. The arrival of this boy is just further proof that what he wants and what is meant to be are one and the same. While he harbours no ill will towards this tragic victim of circumstances, he’s not one bit reluctant to do what must be done.

“Sure, she’s here. She’s in the library.” Angel affects a look of casual disinterest, making sure to be as disarming as possible.

He waits ‘til the boy has walked by him and his back is turned and then he strikes. In a flash he’s grabbed Scott by the neck and snapped it. Shades of Angelus and Jenny, only this time, he’s not doing this to make a statement and grab the spotlight. Oh no, the limelight will belong to someone else entirely. Angel just needs to wait for the perfect moment.

Dragging the body inside the school, he drags it into the janitor’s closet. Cordelia isn’t here, so there’s no danger of she and Xander stumbling over it during one of their frequent and entirely non-surreptitious trysts before Angel can put his plan into action.

He does feel a bit sorry. After all, he really didn’t want Buffy to be hurt and this looks to be rather a blow for her, but it couldn’t be helped. Where there are wolves, there are lambs, and Scott is lawful prey.

Time to head back to the library, acting, of course, as if he’s just arrived. Buffy and Faith are there at last and Xander has grabbed a sword. Should be interesting to see if he has any clue how to use it properly. He’d almost bet good money on the boy impaling himself, but every once in a while, Xander pops out of the puzzle with some skill or ability and shakes up his identity as a doltish clod.

Buffy and Faith, as well as Angel, are arming themselves also, and Buffy seems to actually be paying attention to Giles as he gives her a rundown of what he’ll be doing with regards to the binding spell. She must be more worried than normal.

“Why isn't Willow here?”

Angel’s surprised that Faith even remembers Willow exists at this point. But he’s not surprised when Giles glares at her, though he stifles his reaction quickly.

“What? I thought she had the major magick going, what with resouling the big guy over there.” She gives Angel what she seems to think is a covert once-over after nodding in his direction.

“She has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Faith.” Giles’ voice is clipped and sharp and Angel is reminded of the school headmasters of his own day. “She is hardly in any condition to work magick. Or to face any sort of danger, for that matter.”

“She still has that? Sheesh. I thought she’d have gotten over it by now.”

“It’s not like a cold., Faith. People don’t just get over it.” This time it’s Buffy who chimes in and Angel feels another pang for the pain he’ll inflict on her tonight. Still, there’s nothing he can do about that and he has a feeling Buffy will come through it just fine. She always does.

“Can we get back to the matter at hand? The Sisterhood of Jhe? The opening of the Hellmouth?”

As if on cue, and much sooner than Angel had anticipated, the fun begins as the Hellmouth chooses just that moment to open. Oh joy. The grotesque meanie making his debut as a gaping hole opens in the library floor looks scary enough - big, too. But gigantism is so often accompanied by clumsiness and that’s as true in this case as any. This creature is far too large to maneuver happily in the comparatively tiny confines of the Sunnydale High School library. Still, it’s got innumerable appendages and is more than capable of putting up a creditable fight, which is precisely what it’s doing, in fact. Maybe Angel did underestimate the dangers posed by The Sisterhood, though not their stupidity, that’s for sure. He hopes they weren’t idiotic enough to believe this thing would ever take orders from them.

Giles is working the spell and Angel’s mildly impressed at the energy the man is exuding. He’s no real powerhouse, but he’s got enough magickal chops to get the job done here and that’s deserving of some respect. Not that he has much time to think about that now. Because the hell beast is giving them all one heck of a run for their money. Still, Angel’s starting to get a sense of its rhythm and it’s actually got a fairly predictable style. It obviously was not expecting opposition with even a passing knowledge of demons and the fighting of them, and that makes it vulnerable. It makes moves calculated more to instill fear than to kill and Angel figures it’s been many an aeon since it’s actually fought those small and agile creatures it might not even remember are called human beings - if it’s ever even dealt with them at all.

The spell is starting to work. The beast is feeling the energy and is definitely in panic mode right now, throwing everything but the kitchen sink at Buffy, Faith, and Xander - who, to Angel’s amazement, is actually doing a yeoman’s job in battle. There’s chaos erupting right now, however, and that’s what counts, because it’s just what Angel needs. He’s done his fair share, and can see that they’re winning, so there’s no harm in him ducking out for a moment and setting up a little tableau in the hall outside..

With stealth and speed, he’s out the library doors and straight to the janitor’s closet, dragging the still-warm body of the boy once foolish enough to fancy the Slayer out into the corridor, right outside the room where the battle to keep hell at bay is drawing to a close. Poor Scott. But at least his death has given meaning and purpose to a life that was undoubtedly doomed to be dull and mediocre. After all, once Buffy had gotten bored with playing at being a normal girl, all that was left was for the boy to find a genuinely normal girl, get a stifling job, raise annoying children, and drop dead at some point from one painful human malady or other. But instead, thanks to Angel, he’s an agent of fate, and that has to be elevating.

Now, for the piece de resistance: time to let Oz out and let nature take its course. He heads for the room where Xander stashed the wolf, the scent of the wretched animal clogging his nostrils. Willow will be well rid of the flea-bitten mongrel, that’s for sure. He’s awake. He’s agitated. And if Angel knows anything at all...he’s hungry.

So he opens the door violently, ripping it off its hinges, and lets the odor of the fresh meat a demon like Oz can surely smell nearby lead him straight into temptation.

He slips back into the library, and finds the battle has just concluded. He’s delighted that no one has noticed his absence as he pretends he’s recovering from having been knocked out. Of course, Buffy rushes to tend to him, her own wounds bleeding.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“Well, this shirt’s toast, but other than that, I’ll survive. And hey, bonus points for closing the Hellmouth.” This quip will doubtless be her last witticism of the night; he wishes it had been one of her top drawer ones.

“Hey, what’s that?” Faith has heard noises in the hallway and opens the door to investigate. Hooray. Angel won’t have to have any part in bringing the carefully staged carnage in the hall to anyone’s attention.

“Oh shit! Get the tranq gun!”

Xander hops to it. He’s good at taking orders, Angel will grant him that. Maybe that Halloween possession is still within him somehow. Within seconds, he’s at the door, gun poised, not hesitating for a moment before firing a cartridge into the body of Oz...who collapses in a heap with a mouth full of human flesh.

Buffy heads out into the hallway, followed by Giles and Angel. All but Angel are shocked by what they see, though he does a highly persuasive job of acting the part.

“Oh no.” Buffy seems in shock.. She walks over to the body of Scott, staring down at it with tears in her eyes. Oz has torn the throat out and taken a few chunks from other spots, but the boy’s face is still intact. Angel couldn’t have asked for the scene to be playing out any more perfectly. It’s tailor-made for Buffy’s dimestore emotional theatrics.

She doesn’t disappoint, kneeling down and caressing the unmarred cheek of her teenage Romeo, eyes full of watery tenderness. “I was supposed to have a date with him tonight. He must have...he must have come here looking for me. How...?”

“Oh my god...Buffy, this is all my fault. I shot him twice. I thought he was down for the count, and I was sure I locked the door...oh my god...how could this have happened?”

Buffy glances back at Xander for a moment, before turning back to the body of her boyish swain. “It’s not your fault, Xander.”

“Yes, well...we’d better lock Oz back up in the book cage. Oh dear lord. Buffy, I’m so...I’m so sorry.” Giles places a fatherly hand on Buffy’s shoulder as she continues to weep. “Faith, can you help me?”

“Sure thing.” She hefts the wolf easily and with a bit of braggadocio, showing off how little she cares about anyone else’s anguish, how she can deal with death without batting an eye. Angel’s sure the real reason she’s so calm, though, is that she’s enjoying Buffy’s pain - a bit of payback for the girl the second-tier Slayer thinks has had it way too good. Here’s hoping this mollifies Faith enough that she won’t need to be worried about, though Angel’s beginning to doubt it. In battle tonight, she was too eager to outmatch Buffy and that’s not a good sign. Still, Scott’s death might hold trouble at bay for awhile and that will be all to the good.

They’re gone for the time being and Angel kneels down next to his grieving former love. Time to be the concerned and caring friend.

“He was your boyfriend?”

“No, no.” She’s playing both sides of the fence right now. Angel supposes he can’t blame her. Once the tears have dried and the sympathy wanes, what use is a dead and rotting lover? “But...he was nice. I liked him, you know. He made it easier...” She’s all wistful longing now...staring off into the distance with one eye and looking at him out of the corner of the other.

“You’re allowed to move on, Buffy. I want you to be happy. I just wish...”

“He wasn’t you, Angel. But he was sweet and kind and... I want to not hate Oz, Angel. I really do. But how can I even look at him now? I know it was the wolf and not Oz and that Oz would never have...I mean, he won’t even remember...but the wolf is a part of him and...”

“You forgave me.” Angel hates having to play devil’s (or rather, werewolf’s) advocate, but he must. After all, there’s no telling just what will end up in Willow’s ear and he would definitely prefer she hear that he stood up for her mongrel. “I know that what’s happened tonight is terrible.” He looks meaningfully at the corpse beside him. “But I think that if I can have a second chance...shouldn’t Oz get one, too?”

“Yeah, but you have your soul back now, the demon won’t ever come out again. You’re a different man completely. There’s no way we can do anything like that for Oz. It’s not the same. I know that I’ll forgive him, but he’ll still be dangerous, he’ll still be a killer, and I don’t know what we can do about that.”

She gazes into Angel’s eyes, not saying anything more for a long minute before her own eyes go wide with alarm. She’s obviously thought of something distressing. “Oh God! How are we going to tell Willow?”

Angel holds her as she begins to sob. He’s glad she cares so much about her friend’s feelings, enough that it actually exacerbated her grief and pain. Willow certainly deserves no less. He wonders who will be the one to break the news; he knows he won’t be there when it happens, though he wishes he could be. What the exact results of tonight’s tragedy will be, Angel can’t be sure. One thing, however, is an absolute certainty: Oz will no longer be in his way.


Tbc...