Buffyverse Bingo Prompt #3: chrysalis [free square]

[ifeveristoday]

 Chrysalis 1/1 

Another Boom!verse inspired story. 

Buffy takes her phone out of her pocket and checks it, even though she knows it hasn’t changed from the last time she checked it. The clock is stuck at midnight and there are zero bars. She sighs.

Angel turns from his lookout position at the mouth of the cave. He raises one eyebrow.

“Still no reception?”

Buffy shakes her head.

“No. I’m surprised Google maps doesn’t have Hell as a location.”

“You’d think a place with an active Hellmouth would get more attention,” Angel says and smirks. “Standards are falling all over the place.”

Buffy taps on her phone checking one last time. She does it mostly so her brain doesn’t have to process the fact that she jumped into the Hellmouth. Feet first, no stake – and how dumb was that, Buffy – she could practically hear Giles admonishing her that she was too reckless. It had been a hard landing, but Slayer powers meant she could walk away with a little ache and not much else. It hadn’t affected Angel either, he practically floated to the ground, his coat billowing gently around him as his feet touched down.

The real miracle was that her phone survived the landing.

“So what’s our next move?” Buffy asks. “Find a magic amulet, close this sucker and go home?”

“Something like that,” Angel agrees. “But I think with more fighting.”

She nods and then looks around the cave, looking for something that can be used as a weapon. “Damn it. I knew I should have brought my hoodie. It has bigger pockets.” She looks at Angel doubtfully. “I don’t suppose you have a portable ax or something sharp on you?”

He slips his hand into his coat and passes a sheathed knife to her. “Lucky for you, I bought a spare.”

Buffy shrugs. “Yeah, well I left my weapon toting shorts up there.”

Then she realizes what she’s said and her face heats up with embarrassment.

Angel’s expression is perfectly blasé. “I noticed.”

At least he has the sense to keep his eyes on her face, she thinks, as she pushes past him.

 

Hell is dark and humid and smells like copper and rotten eggs. It is also freakishly quiet. The only sound Buffy can hear is her own breathing, as she struggles not to inhale the stench. Angel is silent behind her. It’s unsettling, and she tells him so.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “What do you want to talk about?”

Was he laughing at her?

Buffy fights the urge to turn around and give him one of her really good glares. “You said you’d been doing this for a while. What exactly do you do? Are you some kind of…boy Slayer?”

This time, she hears him laugh. “No. The Slayers are always girls. But I guess I’m in the same line of work.”

“So you were looking for me to team up?”

It takes a few minutes for him to answer. “Kind of. I was directed to go to the Hellmouth. The dance just happened to be on the way.”

“And you just happened to have a mask ready,” Buffy says. “How deep are those pockets? And do they make that jacket in my size?”

Silence, again – and then Angel’s voice is right next to her ear. “I’m not going to give you my jacket. We’ve just met.”

It makes her skin tingle – in a suddenly all too familiar way. She whirls on him and presses her hand firmly against his chest.

“You’re a vampire,” she says.

Angel’s body is still and she finally notices the absence of a heartbeat. Buffy tries to steady her voice, even as all her senses are on high alert. She’s already slipped into a fighting stance. “Who are you, Angel?”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Angel says calmly. “I told you. I’m in the same line of work.”

She snorts. “Excuse me if I don’t believe you, Mr. Liar Guy. That’s how you knew Xander was a half-vampire. He told me you had serial killer vibes!”

Angel moves suddenly, his hand caught hers and then restraining her arm. “I didn’t lie,” he says. “I just didn’t think it was important.”

Buffy wrenches herself free from his grasp and backs away. “Not important?” She repeats. “It’s my job to kill your kind.”

Angel’s jaw tightens. “I’m not like my kind,” he snaps. “And it’s not my problem that you couldn’t tell I was a vampire.”

“Oh, and what makes you so special?” Buffy crosses her arms. “You ate a boy scout troop and now you help little old ladies across the street?”

Stake him, her inner Giles urged. You don’t make small talk with vampires! Mostly because none of them had anything interesting to say beyond, “I’m gonna kill you, Slayer,” blah blah blah dust in the wind.

She feels like electric volts are running through her veins and she’s crackling with energy and power and she wants to hurt Angel, wants to punch that condescending smile right off his face. Where did he get off, coming to her school and her Hellmouth and playing concerned therapy man, listening to her vent about stupid – but – important things. Asking her what she wanted to do, what she wanted to be.

How dare he pretend to be someone he wasn’t.

Angel stares at her. Then he relaxes his stance and holds out his hands as if she was a wild thing and he was attempting to soothe her.

Which only makes her angrier. “Why shouldn’t I kill you right now?”

“Because I have a soul, Buffy.” A corner of his mouth quirks up and he nods at her. “Like your friend, Xander.”

“So?” Buffy says. “Lots of evil people with souls do evil things.”

“You’re right,” Angel says calmly. “But I know you’re not the type to kill anyone, even if they’re evil and have a soul.” He takes a step forward.

“You don’t know me,” she blusters. “We just met, as you pointed out.”

“I know you stayed behind to make sure everyone else got out. I know you care about what your friends and family think – that you worry about them. That you’re not enough to hold back the darkness. That I think I know everything,” and he smiles tentatively. “And I’m the only one strong enough to help you fight this thing.”

Buffy studies his face, looking for some sign, a tell that he was lying. Angel looks back at her, his face open and expectant. “I’m really not here to hurt you, Buffy.”

Maybe it’s the way he says her name – and how he’s said it several times now. Earnestly. Like he takes her seriously.

She relaxes. “Fine. But the first sign –”

“I’ll hand you the stake,” he says somberly. “Are we good?”

“Yeah. For now.”