In the first draft of this novella thang, I thought it would be neat to have Angel be human. Then I realized how absolutly useless he is when he's human.
Also, with him that way, the story became nothing short of pointless and ground to a screeching halt. I thought that you all might be interested in this snippet of BS I cooked up,
so you could see also some of the ideas I've been toying with.
In short, this is crap. It's not part of the story, just a neat aside. It picks up in chapter two, just as Angel and Willow are getting off the elevator. Enjoy.
“No. What? Just his shampoo.” Angel led her into the hallway. It was dilapidated, with peeling red cinquefoil wallpaper and antique tarnished brass fixtures. They faced a huge old mirror, framed in nearly ruined gilted wood. She stared at their reflection for a minute before dropping the box of doughnuts.
He had a reflection.
“Angel,” she said, reaching out to touch him. She pulled his arm closer to her body, placing her fingers on his wrist. He had a pulse. She pulled him closer to her and placed her ear over his heart. She could hear it beat.
She realized his body was warm, and put her fingers to his neck. “You’re alive.”
“Yes.” He bent down to pick up the doughnuts. He took one out of the box and took a bite out of it. “And I like doughnuts. This precludes me grilling you about you and Giles, doesn’t it.”
“Oh, who cares what happened? You’re human! Tell!”
“Let’s get you settled first. This way.”
She followed him to her right, and the floorboards creaked beneath their feet. “Don’t worry.” Angel said when he saw her wince, “They’ve been checked by the inspectors and stuff. They had to before we could start improving.”
“Where did you get all this money?” Willow asked. She was completely in shock. She couldn’t fathom it. She felt as though she was still asleep in Giles’ bed, dreaming this. It was too outlandish to be true.
“This hotel is sort of a demon-kid halfway house. All the rooms are fixed up, and they live here for cheap rent as long as they hold down a job.” Angel barely surpressed his excitement at showing Willow her new home. He walked more quickly to the door and turned to hand her the key.
Willow passed Angel her bag, took the key, and unlocked the door into her apartment.
“This is so...cool. Wow.” The effect was very Victorian, with rich green carpeting and huge patterns on the wallpaper. She looked more closely and noticed that the patterns were meant to be willow trees. The colors were perfect for the furnishings, all attractive if worn antiques from different styles of decorating. A fantasy art fairy hung next to Gustav Kilmt’s Orchard, next to a framed charcoal sketch of Buffy. “This is beautiful work, Angel. Did you draw this?”
He nodded. “I’m glad you like it. I had it framed because I thought you’d want to be able to see her every day.”
Willow smiled at him as she sat on the white divan, and took up the coffee she’d brought for herself. “You’re human. Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.”
“How did it happen?”
“Do you remember that big news story on 20/20 about the law firm Wolfram and Hart?” Angel asked, running a hand through his already-mussed hair. He wandered over to the drapes and pulled them open, revealing the tendrils of pink and purple that heralded the rising sun. “I try never to miss this if I can avoid it. It’s so beautiful.”
“They were the ones who got broken down for tax evasion, right?”
“Yes. Exactly.”
Willow continued, “But in reality, the Initiative went in and tore up the Senior partners, with help from an old acquaintance of one Major Riley Finn. Angel, the vampire with a soul, killed several members of the board, then escaped before he could be apprehended for questioning. His handiwork and the evidence he left in the boss’ desk was enough to put the majority of the staff away for several lifetimes.”
Angel’s mouth hung open for a moment. “That pretty much sums it up.”
“But that doesn’t tell me why you’re human.”
“The powers that be gave me life. They’d been trying to get the firm out of the city for ages. The CEO was one of the First’s highest generals on this plane.” He looked out the window to the city below. It was just waking up, too, and cars and buses and trains and people picked up speed as the minutes ticked by. “It was my destiny to face him, and if I were to live, I would die. In my old age. As a human.”
“Was the outcome prophesied?” She asked, intrigued.
“Weakly, in my favor. But, still.”
“Amazing.”
“It pretty much is.”
They watched the sunrise in companionable silence for a few more minutes, and then Angel reached for a doughnut. “So, tell. You and Giles? What happened?”
“Um.” Willow paused. “We played a game of chess. But with twenty questions.”
“And what did you ask him?” He was definitely curious about the circumstances surrounding she and the Brit. He’d noticed for years the way they seemed to flit past one another emotionally.
She leaned back in her seat. “I asked him why he wouldn’t ever touch me.”
“And then he touched you?”
“Well...” she blushed. “That was much later.”