Twisted Angel

By: rowek

folder BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Angel(us)/Buffy

Rating: Adult ++

Chapters: 1

Views: 3,722

Reviews: 2

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 0

Category: BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Angel(us)/Buffy

Rating: Adult ++

Chapters: 1

Views: 3,722

Reviews: 2

Recommended: 0

Currently Reading: 0

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Twisted Angel

TITLE:
Twisted Angel.

AUTHOR:
Kelly Rowe

EMAIL:

angels_bath_towel@hotmail.com

RATING:
NC-17 - at least it will be eventually.

DISCLAIMER:
Buffy, Angel and all other characters (except those I make up) are the absolute
property of Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, UPN and Warner Bros (If I owned
them, do you think that they would be acting this ridiculous right now).

SUMMARY:
What if Buffy met Angelus FOR THE FIRST TIME in mid-season Three? Would she
accept his offer for an alliance to stop the Ascension? Would they still fall
in love?

SPOILERS:
Anything is game.

TIMELINE:
Season 3 BTVS and onwards.

DISTRIBUTION:
You want you can have it; just tell me where you put it. Any Yahoo lists and
DMCA just take it. My site:

http://www.angelfire.com/tv2/abt

PAIRING:
Buffy/Angelus, Willow/Oz, Cordy/Xander, Giles/Jenny.

CATEGORY:
Challenge fic from

The Dark Magick Challenge Awards.

Part 1

The Hellmouth has
for all time, since the commencement of creation, been a consecrated place for
demons and other such creatures to congregate and as you would expect, it has
also been the place for some to endeavor to take over the world. None had ever
been truly successful in their attempts and any would be world conquerors had
been vanquished in the last few years by the Watcher's Council's latest and
greatest weapon - the slayer. Angelus however was not in the slightest bit
apprehensive about his trip to The Hellmouth; he after all had neither goal in
mind - congregation or world domination - he merely wanted to rule over The
Hellmouth itself. It was his supreme dream and as far as he was concerned his
next utmost triumph, he didn't care about the slayer - by all accounts the
strongest of all time or not - if she got in his way then she would simply die
by his hand. After all he had never met a slayer that he could not kill - how
else would he have been able to earn himself the prestigious title of 'The
Slayer Killer.'

Angelus leisurely
wandered around the so-called downtown area of his new home, wordlessly watching
the naively vapid inhabitants walk around ignorant to the dangers - and the
creatures - that surrounded them just out of reach in the darkness. He was
reasonably certain that he could simply reach out and drain some inconsequential
passer-by and that none of the other human sheep would even bat an eye at his
behavior. Many questions disseminated through his mind at what he had so far
ascertained about Sunnydale. Had the townspeople grown complacent due to the
presence of the slayer? Did they even realize just what their sleepy, little
town was built upon? A feeling that he had within him told him that it was the
latter and that he would have very little problems in the pursuit of his goal.

Spying out of the
corner of his watchful eye a throng of teenagers moving away from the crowd and
the main street of Sunnydale. Thinking that they might make a quick and easy
dinner he followed without a sound behind them. A couple of blocks later he
witnessed them - and many others like them - entering a small, dingy looking
building. Angelus guessed that it was a club of sorts as he watched the building
pulsate with the beat of the loud music coming from inside. Taking a step closer
he was assaulted by the amalgamation of body heat, hormones and pheromones
swirling around him from the club and causing every nerve in his long dead body
to tingle with anticipation. Throwing caution to the wind he entered the club,
telling himself that he wasn't losing grip on the blood lust - he was simply
checking out a potential new hunting ground and if he happened to pick up an
entertaining little snack while he was there, so be it.

The instant he
was through the door, his senses were almost overloaded and he had to force
himself not to vamp out like some untutored fledgling. Unhurriedly he moved
around the outskirts of the club, feeling the eyes of the teenaged girls - and
to his amusement some of the teenaged guys - on him, mentally stripping him of
his tight leather and silk clothing. Silently he began to survey the brunettes
looking for a *dinner* companion, all of a sudden he spotted the perfect one
dancing with an ungainly looking boy. He stalked self-confidently towards the
young couple, knowing that it would not be hard to get the girl to abandon her
companion for a promised filled evening with him, besides if the boy made a pest
of himself it would in all honesty be nothing to dispose of him. When he was
almost there, the couple moved off of the dance floor and over to a group of
teenagers sitting a small table just out of his sight.

Angelus speedily
took a seat and adjusted the angle his viewing and all thoughts of the brunette
flew out of his habitually assiduous mind as he caught espy of a petite blond
sitting with the group. He wasn't sure exactly why she had caught his
discriminatory eye, the truth was that there wasn't anything remarkable about
her looks and besides, blonds had always been the soul's thing; the demon within
had always preferred a darker sort of beauty. However he had to inwardly admit
that for the first time in almost two and a half centuries he was attracted to a
blond - his sire, Darla hadn't counted; she was his sire and sex was a part of
the deal no matter what the level of attraction.

He just couldn't
bring himself to look away from her; this young teenager seemed to have some
power over him. Not that he was complaining, it was logically better to fuck
your food before you ate it anyway and another glance at the blond's athletic
looking body guaranteed him it would be one hell of a meal. It was at that
moment that his anticipated victim looked up and over in his direction. As she
climbed up from her table and moved towards him, he couldn't help but smirk over
the fact that his prey for the evening was aggressively seeking him out. So it
was a definite ego deflator when she strolled right past him as if he didn't
even exist.

Dangerously
pissed off at the turn of events, Angelus followed the diminutive blond outside
of the club, indomitable to get what he wanted; instead he received a shock. In
the alleyway besides the club his impending victim was kicking the shit out of
one of his brethren. There was only one viable explanation for this; his tiny
blond victim was in fact the slayer - the purportedly most powerful slayer to
ever walk this earth. Behind the perceptible disbelief that played throughout
his mind, there was a curiosity aroused - actually there was a hell of a lot
more than just his curiosity aroused. This slayer seemed to be different than
the others who had come before her and it was most definitely going to be a
*pleasure* - his pleasure - to be the one to bring her to her knees. With a
dramatic flick of his leather duster in the cool night breeze, Angelus turned on
his heel and walked away to find another meal, while he plotted the downfall of
this slayer.

Buffy looked up
from her last slay just in time to observe the hottie from inside The Bronze
walk away. It was apparent - well hopefully - that he had not seen her fight the
vampire or seen the body exploding into dust mere seconds after she had plunged
Mr. Pointy through the vampire's unbeating heart. She heaved a sigh to herself
as she brushed the dust from her stylish, sexy and yet slayage practical outfit
and re-entered the cramped club, making her way over to her very coupled
friends. They were so involved with each other that they hadn't even noticed
that she had even returned. Sighing once again, Buffy turned her attention away
from them and to the crowd hoping to find a little demonic action to keep her
occupied while the others were busy, but no such luck everyone and everything
seemed in safe hands and under control. Making a split-second decision, she
grabbed her jacket and purse and went to leave. Subconsciously she knew she was
only doing this in the hopes that one of them would look up and ask her to stay
- hell at this point she'd even take a fucking acknowledgement of her existence
- but they didn't. Buffy didn't even bother to say goodbye as she stepped out
once more alone into the cold, dark night.

Deciding to
funnel her ever mounting dissatisfaction into something beneficial, Buffy
decided to do a quick sweep through Sunny Rest memorial park before she headed
home to a dark, empty house. Regrettably she did not get to vent any of her
frustrations on some unsuspecting evil; the burial ground was even deader than
usual with not even the hint of a newly risen fledgling. Heaving a colossal sigh
she kicked the adjoining grave marker, breaking the not-so fragile stone in
half; after making certain that no one - living or undead - had seen her
desecrate a grave, she rushed home.

Since her mother
was once again out of town on another God-forsaken business trip, she let
herself in the front door and discarded her belongings in the customarily
pristine front hall. Stretching her over-used muscles, Buffy climbed the stairs
towards her tasteful and airy bedroom. Removing her jacket, she moved over
towards her dresser pausing temporarily to grab herself a pair of pajamas.
Breaking with her familiar habits, she stripped down to her underwear in her
room rather than trudge down the hall to the bathroom, tonight she was just too
fatigued and perturbed with life in general to go to the trouble of repetitive
habits. Pulling on a pair of black satin pajama pants, she undid her plain white
cotton sports bra and wriggled her way into a blood red cotton tank top - the
type she favored for sleeping in. Yanking back the pastel floral bed cover,
Buffy climbed into the queen-sized bed and was more or less asleep before her
head even hit her pillow.

Unfortunately her
sleep was not a serene one, as she tossed and turned as a new nightmare rolled
through her unconscious mind. Images of hellfire and brimstone enclosed her, the
smell was very nearly overwhelming and she could feel the sweat roll off of her
from the intense heat. Spinning around in circles, she spotted the hottie from
The Bronze standing in the midst of some ashes beckoning to her, wanting her to
come to him. She was sorely tempted to do just that, but something was stopping
her, holding her back from him. An abrupt glance back over her shoulder showed
her that it was Giles holding onto her with a vice-like grip, shaking his very
proper British head at her imprudent impulse. Suddenly he let her go and before
she could make it towards the man of her dreams, the ground beneath her tiny
feet began to tremor and she was knocked onto her ass. Watching the scene
unfolding before her eyes in silent fear, Buffy witnessed the earth directly in
front of her open up and a gargantuan - bigger and fiercer than anything she had
ever seen - snake-like creature burst forth with its mouth agape.

Her own scream
pulled her from the nightmarish scene and she lay there in the dark of her room
trying to regain some semblance of calm. After a few moments she sat up, flipped
on the bed-side lamp and grabbed the notebook and pen Giles made her keep close
by for occasions such as this. Buffy began to document the nightmare in as much
detail as she could recall, so that in the morning Giles could research the
meaning of it and work out if it was some horror movie induced fantasy or a
vision of things to come. Eventually she lay back down and closed her eyes in a
vain attempt to sleep; unfortunately it was almost dawn before sleep found her.

Buffy was
disrespectfully awoken a few inadequate hours later by the shrill, unrelenting
ringing of the telephone extension in her room. Groaning audibly she reached
across and grasped a hold of the receiver. "What?"

"Good morning to
you too, Buffy," a clipped British tone replied somewhat sardonically.

Buffy sighed and
attempted to readjust her tone of voice, "Hey Giles."

"Do you mind
telling me why you missed our seven o'clock training session?"

Buffy groaned
once more, "Chill Giles. One missed training session won't matter; I'll simply
train harder this afternoon. Besides its Saturday - don't you want to spend the
day with Jenny?"

Giles was the one
to sigh this time and Buffy could just picture him cleaning his glasses on the
other end of the line. "I am well aware of what day it is, but with the Mayor's
unknown plot thickening you cannot afford to slack off."

"I know, I know."

"Besides that,
you have left me trapped here *alone* with that *abominable* man."

Buffy tried to
repress the mirth that threatened to rise up as she pictured the man that Giles
was referring too. Mr. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was purportedly extra help sent by
the council to aid the slayer and her watcher in vanquishing or better yet
preventing whatever evil the Mayor of Sunnydale had planned for the town. Alas
ever since his unanticipated - and unsolicited - arrival a fortnight earlier, he
had done nothing but screw up menial tasks, cause offense to everyone and ogle
Cordelia Chase's abundant - and most likely surgically modified breasts.

"Okay, give me an
hour and I'll be there," she conceded reluctantly.

"You can have
thirty minutes," Giles told her as he hung up on her.

Buffy hung up her
end of the call and stretched her still sleeping muscles. Achingly she crawled
out of her bed and headed slowly down the hall to the bathroom for a shower and
other things. All the time she was grumbling about destiny and the lack of
sleeping in on weekends.

TBC...

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