Daddy Forever
By Samantha
Gold
Disclaimer: I don’t own Buffy or Angel or any of them. I do own
Angelina and the plot, though.
Spoilers: Up to Graduation part 2
Feedback: Otherwise I send bad-fics…
I get off the bus and look around. So this is LA. It’s big, sort of intimidating. I shake my head. I refuse to be intimidated. Squaring my shoulders I march on like I have a mission, a destination. In reality, I do…I just don’t know where he is yet.
"He" is my father. I’ve never met him before. My Mom had me when she was about twenty. She told me that my dad didn’t know about me, he was gone and she didn’t know where he was to tell him. She told me stories about him all the time though, so in a way, I felt like I knew him. If I saw him, I know I’d recognize him. She told me that he was very tall, over six feet. He has dark features, but his skin is pale…that’s because he’s a vampire.
I’ve known about vampires since I was a baby. Mom never tried hiding the truth, she said it was pointless. I know that my father’s the only good vampire, though. I wish I knew where he was.
It’s nighttime, they’re all out now. He’s probably out here too. I just need to figure out where to look for him. I walk along the side of the street, glancing into alleys, listening with my supernatural senses for anything out of the ordinary, any muffled cries, any sounds of a scuffle, anything. I have to help fight the darkness. I may be fifteen, but I’m not any fifteen-year old.
My ears pick up something. I turn in the direction of the noise. The noise is barely audible, but it’s definitely a fight. I break into a run for the alley. I get there in time to see a man stake a vampire, then turn to the girl he saved.
"Go home," he tells her. "You’re safe now. But you shouldn’t walk around outside at night any more."
She nods. "Thank you," she whispers, before she runs away.
I step out of the shadows, let him see me. I have this ability to just blend in with them when I want to. Mom said that I got it from my father. I look at the man, he appears no older than twenty-seven, but I recognize him and I know better.
He stares back at me. He doesn’t know me. It makes sense, he’s never heard about me. I only figured out he was in LA recently.
I take a breath before speaking, to try to keep my voice from squeaking. No luck. "Hi," I say, trying to push the nervous feeling in my stomach away.
He eyes me warily. "You shouldn’t be out this late," he tells me.
I fight back the urge to roll my eyes. I get that a lot from people who don’t know me. People who don’t know that I’m strong, stronger than the slayer. "I can handle myself," I manage to say evenly, fighting to keep my voice calm. He doesn’t say anything, so I continue. "You seem to be able to handle yourself well."
"I’m too old for you," he tells me.
I struggle not to yell. He thinks I’m hitting on him?! Wouldn’t that be incest? And "too old" is a bit of an understatement. While I’m trying to figure all this out in my head, I notice that he has turned and is walking away.
"Don’t you walk away from me, Angel!" I yell after him. I surprise myself, I hadn’t meant to shout.
He turns back to me. "Who are you?" He asks me. "And how did you know my name?"
I look up at him. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes. "I’m your daughter," I whisper, then I repeat myself, almost disbelieving. I certainly hadn’t expected to find him so soon. "I am your daughter. You are my father."
He looks at me. "I don’t have any kids," he tells me gruffly. "Who’s your mother?"
I look up at him, the tears are threatening to spill over. I hold them back. "Her name was Buffy," I tell him.
He looks at me, examining me closely and nods. "You are Buffy’s daughter," he affirms. "You have her expressive eyes," he continues. "And you have her lips."
I also have her shape, her body, but I think I know why he didn’t mention that one. When he gets to know me, he’ll learn that I can be just as persistent (well, most people say stubborn) as she was. I find myself nodding.
"But you’re not my daughter," he goes on, shaking his head. "I cannot have children."
"Well, obviously you can because here I am," I reply with a sad smile and a self-conscious shrug. My voice comes out calm, thankfully.
He shakes his head. "I can’t have kids," he repeats. "It’s not possible for you to be mine."
"No, I am! Nonie and Mom explained it to me," I tell him. They told me that it was important that I know those types of things. Apparently, because a vampire is undead, so are its "tools." Basically, when he bit my mom, their blood mixed somehow and it brought his sperm back to life. That’s how she got pregnant. I explain this to him in vaguer terms. "Look at me," I tell him. "Really look at me…I’m your daughter."
And he does. He looks at me, I can feel his eyes burning into my soul. Confusion flashes over his features for a second before he hides it again. He’s very good at that, I can tell. Hiding feelings, it must be one of those things I got from him.
After what feels like hours, he nods. "You’re mine," he states, but it comes out almost like a question, full of disbelief. "You have my hair," he whispers, running a finger through my dark tresses.
I nod and he continues. "You have my nose," he whispers.
I nod again. It’s true, of course, mine is a much smaller version of his. "I can’t believe I’m finally found you," I say, my voice shaking. He pulls me into a hug and I squeeze him for all I’m worth, which is a lot, I realize as he lets out a small groan of pain. I relax my grip. "Sorry," I mutter.
He releases me. "No, I’m sorry," he tells me. "What’s your name?"
"Angelina," I say quietly. "Mom named me after you."
He nods. "Where is your mom?" He asks.
Involuntarily, my lower lip begins to tremble. I’m going to start crying if I don’t do something soon. What happened to me being so good at hiding emotions? I cross my arms around myself and squeeze as tight as I can. "Mom’s…" I trail off as a sob erupts from my throat. "Mom’s dead," I whisper.
He looks like he’s been slapped. The little colour he had drains from his face. "H-how?" He croaks, his body frozen. I know he loved my mom a lot.
"Vampires," I tell him. "It was last year." I’m fighting back my emotions as hard as I can. "We were out patrolling together when we were ambushed…completely ambushed. They-they had too many on me, they were going to kill me. The biggest guy, I guess he was their leader, he pulled out this big sword and he was going to stab me with it. There was nothing I could do. Mom-"
I pause. Everyone tells me that it wasn’t my fault, but I know better. If I hadn’t been there, Mom would still be alive today. I don’t want to tell him, then he’ll know I’m a bad person. He’s my dad, he has to love me anyway, right? So I continue.
"She fought her way to me," I can feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. Every time I open my mouth to say a word, I can taste the salt in them. "She took the blow for me," I whisper, my throat dry. "It killed her. …That was when the others got there, Uncle Xander managed to get me away while the other fought the vampires off, but they were too late." I’ve been looking down, I look back up at him. "Please don’t be mad?"
He looks at me as if I’m crazy. Great, he hates me. He hates me because I killed Mom. I begin to shake. I finally find my father and he hates me. He has to understand that I didn’t mean to. My vision is blurry because of the tears. I try to bring up my hand to wipe my eyes and I realize that I can’t. That’s when I realize that he has his arms around me. He’s hugging me.
I try to clear my head. He’s saying something, I want to hear what he’s saying. "…not your fault," I hear him whispering. "Your mother chose to do what she did. Obviously she loved you very much and that was why she was willing to give her life for you. It’s not your fault, Angelina, not your fault…"
I feel myself beginning to calm down. He doesn’t hate me! I look up at him, into his eyes. I know how to read eyes, I have to see if he really means it. I look into his eyes for a few minutes, it’s hard to see because of the tears, but I concentrate. His eyes aren’t full of hate or anger, just love and pain.
Finally the tears stop. I pull away gently and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "I’m sorry," I say shaking my head, feeling silly and embarrassed. Why do I always have to get so emotional when I talk about Mom? I know why though. It’s because I miss her so much. In so many ways, she was like my best friend.
"It’s okay," he tells me. He has a very calm voice. It’s very soothing, relaxing. "We should get you inside, you need your sleep."
"Okay," I answer, nodding slightly.
"Let’s get you back to my place, okay?"
I nod again and he takes my hand, leading me down the alley. His hands are cool, I notice. Mom always said she loved the coolness of his hands and I have to admit that it’s really nice.
After leading me up and down various streets, we come to one of those nice condos that have security at the front. He waves to the guard and they open the door for us. I have to say, it’s impressive.
We go into the elevator and take it up to the sixth floor. As we’re riding the elevator, I glance at the mirrors. I’m a mess! My hair, which I stupidly wore down is now all frazzled, my mascara is running from crying so much, and my short-sleeved shirt is all wrinkled. I look up at my father, but he doesn’t seem to notice that. It makes me feel a little better.
When the elevator stops, we both get off and go to a door with the number twenty-eight on it…I was born on the twenty-eighth… I don’t say anything though, I just watch as he unlocks the door and I follow him in.
"Who else lives here?" I hear myself ask him in a squeaky voice.
"There are only two other people in the entire building," he answers.
I stare at him. "That’s a lot of space for three people…"
He smiles. "Have you heard of Cordee Chase?" He asks.
Of course I have. Everyone’s heard of Cordee. She’s a famous actress/model. She’s my favourite actress, actually. She’s really pretty and she has attitude, the good kind. She was in my favourite movie, "A Castle on the Rocks." I look at him strangely and tell him that I have. Then I ask him what she has to with the building.
"Cordee owns the building. She was a friend of your Mom's back in high school, of course that was before she came here to start acting. Originally, she had trouble making it as an actress so she helped me and Doyle run the agency. After she started to make it, she helped us out, and now the three of us have the building to ourselves, though Cordee’s not around very much."
Now I think I remember something. Uncle Xander told me about this girl in high school who he dated. He called her his "first love." But he said her name was Cordelia…then I get it. Cordee is her stage name. That must be why Uncle Xander always offers to take me to her new releases. God, I can be so slow sometimes!
My father turns to face me. "Is that all you brought?" He asks, gesturing to the knapsack that I’m holding on to, which I somehow remembered to bring with me through all this.
I nod. "I didn’t know how long I would be staying down here," I answer.
"Why don’t you change into your pajamas and in the morning we can talk some more? You can sleep in the spare room, okay?"
I nod. "Okay," I say quietly as he points to the door. I walk through the door to find a beautiful room. It’s painted light purple, my favourite colour. The bedspread is yellow and the furniture is oak. It’s really pretty. I close the door and change into my pajamas. I go into the little bathroom and brush my teeth, wash my face, and brush my hair. I feel a lot better. I crawl into bed and begin to drift off to sleep…
I hear a noise that jolts me awake. It’s the door opening. I remain very still. Slowly, I recognize the figure, it’s Dad. I pretend to be asleep.
He comes over to the bed, tucks me in, and kisses me goodnight on the forehead. As he closes the door again, I hear him whisper goodnight. It makes me feel very special.
I fall asleep again very shortly.
*****
I wake up that morning as sunlight enters the room through the crack in the curtains. I sit in bed for a few minutes, trying to remember my dreams. Mom always told me that my dreams were like hers, different than everyone else’s. She said that they had special meanings and that I should try to remember them.
Slowly, my last dream comes to me. I was in a long white gown on this cliff over the water at night. I heard Mom and I turned, but the ground gave way and I was falling towards the water.
Then I was little and Mom caught me. She was like I remember her when I was little. She had her hair pulled back into a curled ponytail, with two long strands in her face. She was wearing her favourite gray sweatshirt and comfy light colour jeans. I wasn't wearing the dress anymore. She hugged me and told me that she loved me.
When she put me down, I was my age again. I was back in the dress and she was how she was before she died. She was wearing a dress too, only it was black, like the one she was buried in. I saw her looking behind me so I turned. Dad was there, dressed in an all-white tux. She walked over to him, said goodbye and kissed him before coming back to me.
"Be happy, Angelina," she said. "And know that I love you very much. You stay with your father now, answer his questions. Be weary and careful and I’ll see you again one day."
"When?" I remember asking.
She laughed and smiled. "Hopefully not for a long time," she whispered before disappearing.
I turned and Dad said, "Let’s go." Then I woke up.
I crawl out of bed and get my bag. Inside is the notebook I use to record my dreams. I use it as a journal too. I take it out and write down my dream, and then I get dressed and brush my teeth.
I walk out of the room and walk into the hallway. Even though all the lights are on it still has a dark look to it. When I reach the living room, I see Dad sitting at one of those special windows that lets you see out without letting anything in, including the sunlight. He’s got a deep look on his face. He’s probably thinking.
"Dad?" I say, breaking the silence.
He turns to me and smiles softly. "Good morning," he says. It’s meant to be casual, but there’s something beneath the words. I remember my dream. Mom told me to answer his questions. I will.
"Good morning," I echo. I look at him expectantly; will he ask me now? He doesn’t.
"Why don’t we go in the kitchen and you can have some breakfast?"
I nod. He’ll ask me when he’s ready. In the meantime, I follow him into the kitchen. He gets a bowl of fruit, a bowl of cereal, and a glass of juice out and sets it in front of me. I’m surprised that he has normal food, but I don’t let it show.
I finish eating and stand up with my dishes. Before he can say anything, I take them to the sink and begin washing them.
He stands up too. "You don’t have to do that," he says.
I shrug. "That’s okay, I want to," I respond with a small smile. I’m beginning to feel nervous. When I finish washing the dishes, I set them to dry on a small tea towel that has been left out.
I turn back to him and he invites me to sit in the living room with him. Once again, I nod and follow him. Will he ask me now?
He sits down on a black leather chair and I sit across from him on the watching couch.
"Can you tell me a few things?" He asks, his voice is quiet.
I nod. "What do you want to know?"
His eyes mist slightly, it’s hardly noticeable, but I pick up on it. "Tell me about your mother," he whispers his voice soft. "Was she happy?"
I look into his eyes, they are hopeful. He wants me to tell him that she was happy, that he did the right thing by leaving her, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t lie. Mom was quite the actress, very good at hiding her emotions. She held everything in when she was hurting, but I could always tell, even when no one else could. I think we shared a special kind of link. How do I explain what she was like? I guess I’ll just have to try and do my best.
"Mom was a very special person," I start and he nods his head slightly. "She always placed everyone else and their feelings above hers. When she was sad, no one ever knew. I remember walking in on her when I was five. She wasn’t able to hide it anymore. It was the scariest sight in my life." I pause, uncertain of how to continue. "She was in her bedroom. There, on the floor, was Mom, my hero, curled up in a ball, crying like a little kid.
"It was hard for me to accept that she wasn’t infallible. I remember walking over to her quietly, timidly, so scared, she seemed so fragile. I slowly knelt beside her and put my arms around her gently. I was afraid that if I touched her she’d break!" I look up at him again; his eyes are cloudy and confused. I can feel my own tears beginning to well. I push them back and continue. "She looked up at me, tears running down her face, and I remember saying. ‘Don’t cry, Mommy. It’s okay.’ But she just cried harder. I didn’t know what to do; I was so scared, so I asked her what was wrong. She told me that she was lonely.
"At the time I didn’t understand. I mean, she had me, Uncle Xander, Aunt Willow, Uncle Oz, Granny, and Nonie. Even Uncle Spike! Why was she lonely? By about the time I was eight-years old, I realized what she was lonely for." I looked him straight in the eye. "She needed love, real love. The kind of love you only find once. The kind of love she was missing." I shake my head. "We couldn’t give that to her.
"She pretended that everything was okay, that she wasn’t affected. She was really good at that. Pretending. She had everyone fooled, but she could never fool me. I knew her too well; I’d seen her too many times when she couldn’t hide it. I think it was part of what made us so close.
"She never moved on you know." He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "Yes, she went out with other guys, but she never fell in love. I don’t think she ever would have." I stop. I’m surprised at myself; I didn’t cry. "Any other questions?" I ask, my mouth is dry from talking so much.
He nods. "Where is everyone else?" He asks me. He’s trying to move the conversation onto less emotional ground. I guess it’s too much for him. I accept that and answer his question.
"You mean Aunt Willow, Uncle Oz, Uncle Xander, Uncle Spike, Nonie, and Granny, right?"
He nods. "Who is Nonie and Granny, by the way?"
I smile. "Granny’s Mommy’s Mom and she’s the only one I’m actually related to."
"Joyce," he states. He says Granny’s name with a lot of emotion. I wonder why…I’ll ask another time.
Instead, I nod and continue. "Nonie used to be Mom’s watcher. She always called him by his last name, Giles." I pause. "They’re all back in Sunnydale. I told them that I wanted to know more about myself; that’s why I came. They wanted to come with me, but I insisted that I was fine. They know I can take care of myself, that’s why they let me go by myself."
It’s true. I’m fully capable of managing myself in any situation. Because I’m the daughter of a Slayer and a vampire, I seem to have gotten the best of both worlds. I’m stronger than the average slayer or vampire. I also got the vampire supernatural hearing and smelling and the Slayer’s agility and dreams. It’s strange. Sometimes I feel very alone. Nonie says that I’ll probably live longer and age slower…that’s if I don’t get killed. Of course the down side is that my skin’s so pale. I can’t get a tan; I burn too easily. Must be those vampire genes.
"You mentioned patrolling with your Mom last night, did you patrol with her often?" He asks me.
I nod. "When I was younger they were always testing out my strength and all those other special abilities I inherited from the two of you. Originally, Mom didn’t want me to get involved with slaying, but Nonie pointed out that that I’d be in more danger if I was ignorant because the vampires would know about me and would come after me. So I trained with Mom and she took me patrolling with her so that I could understand. She only started taking me regularly when I turned eleven though."
"How long are you going to stay in LA?" He asks me.
"Not very long," I answer, shaking my head. I look up at him hopefully. "I was hoping that you’d come back to Sunnydale with me."
"I don’t think that’s a good idea," he mumbles.
"Why not?" I ask curiously.
He shakes his head. "It doesn’t matter anymore."
What doesn’t matter anymore? I’m feeling very confused. It’s one of those times I wish I was telepathic, but of course, apparently telepathy doesn’t work too well with vampires as Mom told me once.
I sigh. "If it’s enough to keep you from going back to Sunnydale, it matters."
He shakes his head again, this time more firmly. "I’m not welcome there, I’m not going. I’m sorry."
"Not welcome?" I echo. "By who?"
Who wouldn’t want my dad to come back with me? Aunt Willow? No, she was the one who helped me find him. Uncle Xander? No, he even helped me pack! Uncle Oz? Why would he not like Dad? Uncle Spike? Dad was his sire! Besides which, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have that kind of hold over Dad. Nonie? No, he doesn’t hate anybody! Granny? That’s when I remember how his voice sounded when he said her name. Full of emotion. Why wouldn’t Granny want Dad back in Sunnydale?
"No one, sweetie," he whispers.
He’s lying. I can tell. He won’t look me in the eyes and his forehead is doing that thing where it crunches up in the middle, but stays smooth everywhere else.
"Did Granny send you away?" I blurt out, before smacking a hand over my mouth. Oops.
His head shoots up and I know it’s true. "Whatever gave you that idea?" He asks, shocked. I continue to look at him, wordless, and he nods sadly.
"Why?" I question. I feel hurt and betrayed. Why would Granny try to keep Dad away from Mom and me? A pain rushes into my stomach as I realize that Mom would probably still be alive if he had stayed…If he had stayed he would’ve been able to help her the way I couldn’t. I try to mask the hurt, but glancing up I realize that he’s too absorbed in his own pain to notice mine. By coming here I’ve opened new wounds for him. Now it’s my job to help close them too.
He sighs before looking up at me. I can see years of pain and guilt reflected there.
"Joyce was never…fond of the idea that her daughter was the Slayer," he starts and I focus all my attention on him, just listening to the words he says and the message beneath them all. "She was even less pleased at the idea of her dating a vampire. You know the whole story, right?"
I nod. "Mom told it to me," I murmur. "Right up until you decided that it had to be over one day out of the blue." His eyes tell me that it wasn’t out of the blue. "Why did you leave?" I ask as my voice cracks slightly.
He shakes his head. "It doesn’t matter anymore, it was a long time ago anyway."
"If it doesn’t matter and was such a long time ago then why are you still letting it affect you?" I counter.
"Because…" He pauses, falters. I can see him thinking. "Because it’s not important what was said, just the results." He tries.
"Well, the results are affecting me," I tell him. "I think I at least deserve to know why I’ve got to suffer with them."
He doesn’t answer for a few seconds, I can see he’s beginning to break. I’m definitely using Mom’s gift of persistence tonight. Just a bit further, if I push just a bit harder, he’ll crack and I’ll know. Suddenly he hardens again. They’ll be no breaking him now.
"All you need to know is that Joyce pointed out a few things to me and they’re the reasons why I can’t come back," he says curtly, deliberately vague.
Why’d Granny do that? Then I remember how she got every time Mom and I got ready for patrol or discussed slaying. And I remember how she was after the funeral. All she seemed to care about was keeping me from patrolling, using Mom’s death to suit her own means. She tried to keep me from finding Dad too. She said that it was not a good idea to look for a vampire and that it’d be dangerous, besides. Obviously, I didn’t listen.
I sigh and figure that I probably shouldn’t bother pushing it anymore. I’ll just get him mad. I’ll work on it later though.
"Fine then," I respond, trying to keep the edge out of my voice. I succeed, though I come off a little cold.
He shakes his head. "So like you’re mother," I hear him murmur so quietly that I almost don’t catch it. I find myself smiling despite myself.
"Why don’t we go out together? Would you like to go shopping or something? Or-" He glances at his watch. "Maybe we could go for lunch?"
"Okay," I say agreeably. I’ve only got so much time to convince him to come back with me, I should spend as much time with him as possible. Not that I’d want it any other way, I mean he’s my father and I don’t even know him!
"Come on."
*****
I sit down on the couch tiredly, having just gotten back. I never knew that there were underground tunnels in LA! Not just sewers, but real, easy-to-travel tunnels. Real fun and interesting. I smile at the thought. I look down at the bags at my feet. He really spoiled me.
Glancing out the tinted window I notice the sun, just beginning to set. The vampires and other demons will be out soon. I suddenly have energy again. I watch Dad as he opens a drawer and pulls out a few stakes, hiding them in his clothing.
"Getting ready for patrol?" I ask.
He nods. "Yeah."
"I’m coming," I tell him, standing up.
He shakes his head. "I don’t want you to get hurt."
"I won’t," I insist. "Come on, I’ve been patrolling regularly for the past four years, I’ll be fine." He looks unconvinced. Inspiration hits me. "Tell you what," I say. "We’ll arm wrestle. If I win, I get to come. If not, then I’ll stay home, no troubles."
"I’m an old vampire," he warns me.
I shrug. "Then you have nothing to worry about, right?"
He laughs. "You are definitely Buffy’s daughter," he comments before the sad look comes into his eyes, realizing what he said. He pushes it away though and sits down at the table. Setting his arm. "All right then," he says, his eyes twinkling the same as they did all day.
I sit down across from him, my hand grips his and my elbow rests against the table. I catch his eyes and he nods. I begin pushing against his arm, lightly at first, testing his strength. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he was an old vampire. He is very strong from age and of course, from the time he bit Mom… I have to concentrate. Push hard, use my strength… His arm begins to descend to the table.
He looks surprised. Didn’t expect me to be that strong, did you, Pop? Mom could beat you, why wouldn’t you expect me to be able to do likewise? She was my age when she was called. I feel his arm beginning to strain more, there’s more resistance but his arm keeps on going down. Soon it’s touching the table.
"I win!" I chime.
He laughs, shaking off his arm. "All right, all right, you can come."
I grab my jacket and pull a pair of stakes out of my bag, then conceal them. As we’re walking out the door I slip the elastic off my wrist and pull my hair into a comfortable ponytail. "You didn’t think I could," I accuse him, smiling.
"No," he admits. "I sure didn’t."
*****
Walking down the street through the dark, sticking to the shadows. Then I feel it, the tingling in my stomach that means that there’s a vampire nearby.
"Dad?" I whisper.
"You sense it too?" He whispers back.
I nod. "Yeah, it’s about half a block away." I’m already moving towards it, quickly yet stealthily. Dad’s right behind me, moving more or less at the same rate. We emerge from the shadows at the same time, stakes bared.
I throw a quick punch with my left, a swift front kick with my right leg, then follow through with a right-handed staking. The vamp never had a chance. I turn to see Dad watching me. He never even made a move!
"What?" I ask in my normal voice.
He smiles. "You’re not going to entertain us with some witty quips?"
I smile back. "That’s Mom’s thing. I fight, slay, and get it over with. I only talk if they piss me off."
He shakes his head, still smiling. I shrug it off. One down, how many do we have to go?
*****
Why do I ask stupid questions? "How many do we have to go?" What was I thinking? Stupid vamps, have to travel in packs.
I’m backed up in a circle of vamps, my back against Dad’s though he’s a good six inches taller than I am.
"I thought this stuff only happened in Sunnydale," I mutter.
"Angelina, I’m going to make an opening, then I want you to run. Do you understand?"
"No, I’m not leaving you, Dad," I answer defiantly.
"Angelina…" He trails off in a threatening voice. Somehow, I’m not intimidated.
"Dad…" I reply in the same voice. I let my eyes scope out the situation without moving my head. Ten vampires, wouldn’t be too bad if they didn’t have swords. I’ve got two – wait, there’s one in my coat pocket that I forgot about – make that three stakes. Dad’s got at least four…if I can just get a sword off one of them, I’ll be fine…
The vampire straight ahead of me jumps the fun and slashes at me. Pushing Dad back with my butt, I duck and arc my hand up, catching him under the wrist. The sword flies out of his hand. I knee him in the crotch, then launch myself into the air, catching the sword.
I whirl around, beheading two vampires in the process, and see Dad. He’s immobilized one vamp’s armed arm and is in the process of elbowing a second. He’s in his game face and the vampire pinned underneath his foot seems slightly intimidated.
There isn’t more time to watch as I sense a presence behind me. I spin around just in time to parry the sword that was aimed for my chest. I come back with a counter thrust, which the vamp avoids. I don’t recognize him from before, he’s bigger than the others – and uglier.
I go for a surprise move, using an overhand strike with the sword, then coming around with a roundhouse kick. It lands as planned and he lets out a grunt of pain, but it doesn’t stop him from shooting out the blade, barely missing my ribs. I’m forced to jump to the side, only to be surprised by a knee in the side. I wince, but don’t allow it to take me out. I counteract with a sidekick, then rotate into an uppercut, but he surprises me by grabbing my arm out of nowhere and pinning it behind me.
Ow! My mind screams in pain, but I keep my mouth shut. If you show that they’ve got you, the pain rarely lessens. He twists some more, forcing me to drop my sword and bite on my lip to keep from screaming. I spare a glance over at Dad. He’s fighting a different three vamps. By now he‘s got two swords. The way he’s swinging them is impressive.
The next thing I know, everything’s going black…
*****
I wake up to find myself chained to a wall. I’m not a vampire, so that’s a good sign. I look around, taking in my surroundings. I’m in some kind of dark room without much furniture in it. There doesn’t appear to be anyone around but I can sense someone watching me from the shadows.
"Who’s there?" I call out, keeping my voice neutral. When I see whom it is I’ll decide which facade to put up.
The vampire I was fighting earlier steps out from the shadows. "Ah, Angelina. You’ve decided to join the living, I see."
"Well, that would be true if there was someone actually alive around here," I snap, making my decision. Confident and sarcastic it is.
He laughs. "Quite like our mother aren’t we?"
I glare at him. Who the Hell is this guy and how did he take me out? I nonchalantly try the chains. They’re strong, but if I use all my strength I can break them. Of course, he’d know exactly what I’m doing and would be on me within a few seconds, not enough time.
He laughs. "So sure of ourselves, aren’t we? You know that you aren’t going to live, don’t you?"
What is it with loser vampires and that phrase? Gee, no! I thought he caught me for tea and crackers! Obviously he wants to kill me. I wonder where Dad is. I don’t answer him, but concentrate on the room. It’s not even thirty feet! I notice a door to my right. It’s probably locked or at least guarded. There’s also a window to my left, or at least it used to be a window. It’s been boarded up with planks, which are not a problem since they’re real easy to break. The problem is finding out how high we are. I may heal fast but I get the feeling that a thirty-story fall might kill me. A tiny glint of a coppery colour catches my eye from above. I glance up and see a little brass loop hanging from the ceiling. It is connected to a square outline, probably some kind of opening to the next floor up or an attic of some sort. If he just leaves, I can get away…
"What do you want with me?" I ask, steeling my voice.
He laughs. "A lot of things. Among them your powers, your life, and your father." Dad?! I feel myself begin to panic. I guess he notices because he continues. "And isn’t it perfect? Through you I can get him and his also!" He laughs again, it’s really annoying. Sounds sort of like one of those joker dolls with the voice box that laugh when you squeeze them.
"What do you want with Dad?" I ask quietly. I just found him! I can’t lose him now, it’s not fair! I wish I had seen this one coming.
"Scared?" He asks me in a mocking voice that makes me want to knock his block off. "Don’t worry, Hon, you won’t be around to see him go." I grit my teeth. Don’t call me "Hon"! And I swear, if he so much as touches Dad I’ll, well, I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I’ll think of something!
Then he does what I’ve been praying for. He leaves. As the door opens I see that what I suspected was right, the door is guarded. Then it closes behind him and I am all alone in the darkness. Perfect.
Quietly, I strain against my restraints. Soon I am placing them lightly on the ground, to avoid making any sound. Stupid pompous bastard. I slip over to the boarded window, peeking between a slight crack in the boards and swallow. Five floors up, that’s a little on the high side.
I walk back over to where I was held. Jumping up, I grab the brass loop and pull, opening the little door. I land silently in a crouch. Taking a few steps back, I launch myself up into the air again, taking hold of the edge. I swing once, twice, swing myself up.
Pulling my body up, I look around. I’m in some kind of storage closet. It, too, is dark. I don’t complain. Darkness is good, a comfortable friend that acts as a shield for me. Creeping around boxes, shelves and other assorted junk, I reach the door.
I listen carefully. I can hear one set of light steps. There’s only one person out there, and whoever they are, they’re real good at creeping silently. Still, my ears are tuned and trained for those light sounds and I hear them just the same.
Standing still, my hand resting lightly on the door knob, I wait until their footsteps are almost to the door. I may not have any stakes on me, but I’m pretty sure I can take them out. Okay, here I go!
I throw the door open suddenly and jump out, throwing a strong kick at my would-be attacker. Then almost shriek.
"Dad!"
"Angelina, you escaped!" He gets up, holding his side. Oops.
I launch myself into his arms. "What are you doing here?" I ask.
"Coming to save you. I turned around just in time to see him drag you around the corner. I followed them here, then set about finding you. You’ve got a strong kick," he tells me. "Come on, we have to get you out of here."
I nod. "Dad, who is he? How does he know you and Mom?"
"Doesn’t matter right now, sweetie," he says. "Come on, let’s go."
If he says so… I nod and follow him. He leads me through quite a few hallways, then through the ventilation system into the sewer. I realize that I must’ve been out for about an hour if the sun’s up already. I grimace as I step in some kind of icky green stuff. Ew! Sewer slime!
"How far from your building are we?" I ask after about fifteen minutes.
"Not too far, it’s just a bit farther. About a block," he answers. A block, I can live with that.
True to his word, after a few more minutes of walking he directs me up a ladder. Opening the top, I slide myself into some kind of lounge room. The decorating is similar to that of the entrance way to Dad’s apartment. This room must be in the building.
Dad climbs up after me and closes it. I look at him quietly. For a few minutes, neither of us says anything, we just look at each other. Finally, I break the silence and speak. "So what do we do now?" I ask softly.
"We get you out of LA," he tells me.
"I’m not leaving without you," I state. Maybe that will help…
"It’s not up for discussion. While you’re here, you’re in danger. I refuse to endanger you." Well, at least now I know that Mom wasn’t over-exaggerating when she told me that he was over-protective.
"Dad, he said that he wanted my powers and my life…and yours. What’s going to keep him from following me to Sunnydale?"
"In Sunnydale you’ve got all your friends to protect you," he tells me wearily. "You’ll be safer there. I have to stay here."
"Because of what Granny said?"
He nods. "That too."
"Well, whatever she said must’ve been pretty important if it’s worth risking my life over, right?" I ask, stating every word meaningfully. I’m being a little cruel but I don’t really have a choice.
He winces. Score! "You know that I’d never want to endanger you-" he starts, but I interrupt him.
"Funny, that’s what you’re doing now. You’re so hung up on yourself and your problems and what someone told you fifteen years ago that you’re willing to put me at risk just so that you don’t have to feel bad," I tell him simply. He gets a pained look and I immediately feel guilty, but I hide it. He needs to come home. Not just for me, for himself. He’s definitely got a lot more baggage than your average person…
"Look, I know that you’re having trouble understanding…"
"How could I possibly understand? You won’t tell me anything!"
"Look, Joyce feels very strongly about my vampirism. She was right when she told me that Buffy deserved someone better than me, someone who could take her into the daylight and all that," he snaps. "I didn’t leave so that you’d have to suffer having me around later!" Then he closes his mouth. I guess, startled by his revelation. I know he hadn’t meant to share so much with me.
Tears spring to my eyes. "She said that?" I whisper. How could she do that to Mom? To me? "Dad, don’t you think I’m suffering just a bit more not having a father? Whether you come or go, you’ll still be Dad. You’ve been my Dad since I was a kid, even though I didn’t know you…and even when I’m long gone and you’re still around, looking like your twenty-five, you’ll be my dad then too."
"Angelina…"
"You’re my Daddy forever," I whisper, I feel a tear slide down my cheek.
"Okay," he whispers. "Okay…"
I smile timidly. "Good," I say softly. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"No…" He answers, wrapping me in a hug. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
I hug him back. I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my heart and shoulders. After Mom died I never thought I’d get to have a family again. Granted, it’s not going to be easy, and it’s going to take a lot of work…but I’m up for it. I just wonder how Granny will react…
The End?