Fic: Running With Scissors (ending)
Running With Scissors, ch. 36
For casual readers, AtS AU
Sunny let Fred take her through the lobby and onto the elevator. “My old room is back here,” Fred said soothingly. “Angel says that everything is still there, and I left a buncha clothes and stuff in there, because----well, I have issues with getting rid of stuff after having to save everything in a cave for five years, y’know?”
“Uh-huh,” Sunny said, staggering.
“So we’re all gonna go get some pancakes and find some blood for Spike. You sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Fred opened the door to a room with a single bed. “You know, I went raftin’ once and fell into the water and swallowed a lot of the river. I got the runs. So, since you seemed to have a lot of water---you’d better watch it. I’m just sayin’, you know. You have to go?”
Sunny took a sip of her Coke. “No,” she said. “I want to lie down.” The bedspread was a little musty but the sheets looked okay, and Sunny peeled off her wet clothes and got between them. The last thing she remembered Fred saying was, “I’ll leave the bathroom door open.”
::
Wesley looked up from the coffee-maker to see Fred and Angel---both wearing clean and dry clothes---walk down the staircase. “She’s out cold,” Fred was saying. She was carrying several men’s shirts. “Hey, I brought y’all some clean shirts. You can’t go eat pancakes all covered with blood.”
Wesley, Gunn, and Lindsey McDonald were still kind of silent in the midst of the post-Apocalyptic Slayer-chatter. After all, it wasn’t given to many men to visit that Other Country, and return. Wesley couldn’t remember anything. It was as if he had been knocked out cold.
“Where’s Illyria?” he asked Spike. He chose a long-sleeved blue shirt and pulled it on.
Spike shrugged. “I don’t know. She went after the dragon. I lost sight of her.” He unwrapped another package of Marlboros . “Hey, Faith, you weren’t surprised to see me.”
Faith reached for a cigarette. “Do you honestly think that Andrew can keep anything from me? I know, and Giles knows, but no one else knows. ‘Course, since you impressed all my girls, here, I don’t think your secret’s gonna stay secret soon.”
“Someone should call Buffy,” Angel said, significantly. He plucked fretfully at his black shirt. “Have I lost weight? Am I thinner?”
“Can’t believe you tore yourself away from your mirror, you big girl,” Spike said. “Oh, wait. You forgot to look.”
“I don’t have a mirror up there,” Angel said, distracted. He sneezed.
“Ha!” Spike said. “Human only thirty minutes and you’ve already got a cold.”
“Dust,” Angel said with dignity. “Well, listen, there’s some numbers taped to the phone over there---there used to be blood delivery.” He slapped his (now) lean middle. “I’ve got to go get some of those pancakes. And eggs.”
“Bacon,” Fred said, with a sudden intense look at Wesley.
“Angel’s buyin’,” Faith announced. “Then, I got to take the girls back to the dorm and report in.”
Angel and Spike exchanged glances. “Go,” Spike said. “I’ll listen for your mean girl, but I don’t think she’s going to wake up.”
“Hey,” Gunn said . “Where’d McDonald go?”
“He went out through the other door,” Spike said. “I didn’t know that we wanted him for anything.”
“Who cares?” Angel said. “Try not to smoke so much here, okay? Go to the basement or something.”
Spike smirked. “Well, I don’t want to spoil your newly pink lungs.” He reached across the desk and pulled the phone over to him. “All of you get out and let me make some calls.”
“Should we---” Gunn began, then he shrugged. “Never mind. Let’s eat. Then, I gotta make some calls.”
“I wonder if our apartments are still there?” Fred asked. “Or if they vanished?”
Angel groaned, as Wesley said, “That’s an interesting idea----”
::
Sunny slept and woke, briefly, shivering. She got out of bed, and opened the closet. Not that anything of Fred’s would fit her---she found a long white linen thingy in the very back, among all the baby tees and mini-skirts. Even though Sunny was still unshowered and had ratty, dirty hair, she pulled it on and crawled back in bed.
It was all over, and she felt used-up and hopeless. Now that Angel was human again, there was nothing to stop him from going after Buffy.
She almost sobbed, but there was a knock on the door. “You awake?” Spike asked from the hallway.
“No,” Sunny said, pulling the sheet over her head.
“How,” and there was a grin in his voice, “you feelin’?”
“Like the storm sewer,” Sunny groaned. “Go away.”
“I’m here until the others come back,” Spike said, heedlessly. “If you honk up, don’t worry----place has plenty of beds.”
“Fuck off!” Sunny squeaked.
She heard Spike’s evil chuckle move away from the door.
::
It was late afternoon when she woke up again. The room was dim, and she woke up, warm and sweaty. Angel was lying with her, or mostly on top of her, under the sheet, breathing into her hair. He was warm, which was---weird, as she’d actually never been with someone who was, actually, pumping blood.
“Hey,” Angel said. His big palm was spread across her belly. “You only picked the smallest bed in the entire hotel.” He patted her. “I thought about moving you to my suite, but, you know, no more vamp strength. Just a guy.” He stretched. “I think our gang is asleep. Faith and the others went back to their Slayer House or wherever they stay when they aren’t actually slaying.”
Sunny thought it was most unfair of him to smell of bath soap and toothpaste when she looked and no doubt smelled as though she had washed up with the tide. “Huh,” she said intelligently. She cleared her throat and tried again. “So, what are you going to do?”
He yawned, his jaw rubbing against her scalp. “I’m thinking, steak for dinner. Well-done.”
“I mean, after you stop eating.”
“I’m pretty much going to have to eat from now on,” Angel said. “Thanks to you.”
“Sorry to ruin your big finish,” Sunny said. “I just---you didn’t really think I was going to leave, did you?”
“Yeah, I kinda did,” Angel said. “Next time, when I tell you---”
“The next apocalypse?” Sunny said, turning her head and hitting her nose on his chin. “The next time you’re going to Kawasaki?”
“What?” he asked, indulgent.
“Suicide in battle?” She poked his shoulder.
“Kamakaze.”
“That’s a drink.”
“Jesus, you’re ignorant sometimes,” Angel groaned, and dropped a kiss on her nose.
Sunny pushed herself away from him and against the wall. “No,” she said. “When are you going to see Buffy?”
“Buffy?” Angel said, quietly. “I’m not going to call Buffy.” He slid his hands around her waist.
“Oh, and I’m the consolation prize?” Sunny asked, nastily, to keep from bursting into tears. She felt her chin tremble.
Angel yanked her over to him. “Sunny. You’re the prize.” He squashed her, lying on her again, and kissed her until her mouth stopped shaking.
finis
For casual readers, AtS AU
Sunny let Fred take her through the lobby and onto the elevator. “My old room is back here,” Fred said soothingly. “Angel says that everything is still there, and I left a buncha clothes and stuff in there, because----well, I have issues with getting rid of stuff after having to save everything in a cave for five years, y’know?”
“Uh-huh,” Sunny said, staggering.
“So we’re all gonna go get some pancakes and find some blood for Spike. You sure you don’t want anything to eat?” Fred opened the door to a room with a single bed. “You know, I went raftin’ once and fell into the water and swallowed a lot of the river. I got the runs. So, since you seemed to have a lot of water---you’d better watch it. I’m just sayin’, you know. You have to go?”
Sunny took a sip of her Coke. “No,” she said. “I want to lie down.” The bedspread was a little musty but the sheets looked okay, and Sunny peeled off her wet clothes and got between them. The last thing she remembered Fred saying was, “I’ll leave the bathroom door open.”
::
Wesley looked up from the coffee-maker to see Fred and Angel---both wearing clean and dry clothes---walk down the staircase. “She’s out cold,” Fred was saying. She was carrying several men’s shirts. “Hey, I brought y’all some clean shirts. You can’t go eat pancakes all covered with blood.”
Wesley, Gunn, and Lindsey McDonald were still kind of silent in the midst of the post-Apocalyptic Slayer-chatter. After all, it wasn’t given to many men to visit that Other Country, and return. Wesley couldn’t remember anything. It was as if he had been knocked out cold.
“Where’s Illyria?” he asked Spike. He chose a long-sleeved blue shirt and pulled it on.
Spike shrugged. “I don’t know. She went after the dragon. I lost sight of her.” He unwrapped another package of Marlboros . “Hey, Faith, you weren’t surprised to see me.”
Faith reached for a cigarette. “Do you honestly think that Andrew can keep anything from me? I know, and Giles knows, but no one else knows. ‘Course, since you impressed all my girls, here, I don’t think your secret’s gonna stay secret soon.”
“Someone should call Buffy,” Angel said, significantly. He plucked fretfully at his black shirt. “Have I lost weight? Am I thinner?”
“Can’t believe you tore yourself away from your mirror, you big girl,” Spike said. “Oh, wait. You forgot to look.”
“I don’t have a mirror up there,” Angel said, distracted. He sneezed.
“Ha!” Spike said. “Human only thirty minutes and you’ve already got a cold.”
“Dust,” Angel said with dignity. “Well, listen, there’s some numbers taped to the phone over there---there used to be blood delivery.” He slapped his (now) lean middle. “I’ve got to go get some of those pancakes. And eggs.”
“Bacon,” Fred said, with a sudden intense look at Wesley.
“Angel’s buyin’,” Faith announced. “Then, I got to take the girls back to the dorm and report in.”
Angel and Spike exchanged glances. “Go,” Spike said. “I’ll listen for your mean girl, but I don’t think she’s going to wake up.”
“Hey,” Gunn said . “Where’d McDonald go?”
“He went out through the other door,” Spike said. “I didn’t know that we wanted him for anything.”
“Who cares?” Angel said. “Try not to smoke so much here, okay? Go to the basement or something.”
Spike smirked. “Well, I don’t want to spoil your newly pink lungs.” He reached across the desk and pulled the phone over to him. “All of you get out and let me make some calls.”
“Should we---” Gunn began, then he shrugged. “Never mind. Let’s eat. Then, I gotta make some calls.”
“I wonder if our apartments are still there?” Fred asked. “Or if they vanished?”
Angel groaned, as Wesley said, “That’s an interesting idea----”
::
Sunny slept and woke, briefly, shivering. She got out of bed, and opened the closet. Not that anything of Fred’s would fit her---she found a long white linen thingy in the very back, among all the baby tees and mini-skirts. Even though Sunny was still unshowered and had ratty, dirty hair, she pulled it on and crawled back in bed.
It was all over, and she felt used-up and hopeless. Now that Angel was human again, there was nothing to stop him from going after Buffy.
She almost sobbed, but there was a knock on the door. “You awake?” Spike asked from the hallway.
“No,” Sunny said, pulling the sheet over her head.
“How,” and there was a grin in his voice, “you feelin’?”
“Like the storm sewer,” Sunny groaned. “Go away.”
“I’m here until the others come back,” Spike said, heedlessly. “If you honk up, don’t worry----place has plenty of beds.”
“Fuck off!” Sunny squeaked.
She heard Spike’s evil chuckle move away from the door.
::
It was late afternoon when she woke up again. The room was dim, and she woke up, warm and sweaty. Angel was lying with her, or mostly on top of her, under the sheet, breathing into her hair. He was warm, which was---weird, as she’d actually never been with someone who was, actually, pumping blood.
“Hey,” Angel said. His big palm was spread across her belly. “You only picked the smallest bed in the entire hotel.” He patted her. “I thought about moving you to my suite, but, you know, no more vamp strength. Just a guy.” He stretched. “I think our gang is asleep. Faith and the others went back to their Slayer House or wherever they stay when they aren’t actually slaying.”
Sunny thought it was most unfair of him to smell of bath soap and toothpaste when she looked and no doubt smelled as though she had washed up with the tide. “Huh,” she said intelligently. She cleared her throat and tried again. “So, what are you going to do?”
He yawned, his jaw rubbing against her scalp. “I’m thinking, steak for dinner. Well-done.”
“I mean, after you stop eating.”
“I’m pretty much going to have to eat from now on,” Angel said. “Thanks to you.”
“Sorry to ruin your big finish,” Sunny said. “I just---you didn’t really think I was going to leave, did you?”
“Yeah, I kinda did,” Angel said. “Next time, when I tell you---”
“The next apocalypse?” Sunny said, turning her head and hitting her nose on his chin. “The next time you’re going to Kawasaki?”
“What?” he asked, indulgent.
“Suicide in battle?” She poked his shoulder.
“Kamakaze.”
“That’s a drink.”
“Jesus, you’re ignorant sometimes,” Angel groaned, and dropped a kiss on her nose.
Sunny pushed herself away from him and against the wall. “No,” she said. “When are you going to see Buffy?”
“Buffy?” Angel said, quietly. “I’m not going to call Buffy.” He slid his hands around her waist.
“Oh, and I’m the consolation prize?” Sunny asked, nastily, to keep from bursting into tears. She felt her chin tremble.
Angel yanked her over to him. “Sunny. You’re the prize.” He squashed her, lying on her again, and kissed her until her mouth stopped shaking.
finis