Angel: Crush Two
Title: Crush Two
Series: Crush
Fandom: Angel: the Series
Character(s): Angel, OC, Fred
Length: 1,676 words
Rating: PG, perhaps PG-13 for bad use of vernacular
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Summary: see part one
Notes: still badfic, but it's the last one in the series. At the time when I posted this there were some questions as to why Angel and the OC are speaking with accents. I don’t know if it’s any clearer here, but we all know that Angel’s Irish from Ireland, and I think I mention that his “niece” is Scottish and spent quite a bit of time in Ireland at some point. I must also apologize for the blatant thievery of a Madonna song. It was a bad habit of mine at the time. I’ve only gotten slightly better at it now ;P
Crush Two
“Stay fer a drink, Uncle? I’ve got a fine bottle of Nabbiolo.”
“Only if you stop calling me Uncle.”
She laughed. “Right, ‘cause that’s going to happen after nearly three centuries of practice. Riiiight. Yer quite the funny man Angel.” She walked into the living room, bottle and two glasses in hand. “Come now, a small swallow? If ya can survive a whole day with me I’m sure ya can stand a drink of Nabbiolo.”
“What, no fresh blood?” he joked. “You usually have a bottle in the fridge waiting for me. Even when I show up unexpected.”
“Yer never unexpected,” she said pouring out a glass of wine. Angel looked at her warily. She laughed. “Suspicious much, Uncle?”
Eyebrow raised he answered, “Of you? Always.” She laughed again.
About to pour herself a drink she studied the glass critically. “Be right back.” She got up and went into the kitchen still studying it giving Angel a chance to give the room a critical once over. When they had been children she’d often been at his house but it was much rarer to find young Liam at hers.
Why had he come here anyway? That’s right, she’d invited him. What better reason was there? Maybe because as much as he protested he liked knowing there was some connection to his past that wasn’t fraught with guilt and shame. Maybe he liked fooling himself into thinking that he really did have a family, that there were people waiting for him that loved him, that there was a place that, when he went there, they had to take him in. It was a childish dream, one he shouldn’t hold in his secret heart or any other place. He’d been more than happy to accept her invitation. He needed to get away. He needed to forget, to talk, to hide, to free everything that had festered inside himself --
“There now, better.” Her glass was full with the same rich red stuff as his own. “To pleasant surprises?” she asked raising her glass in a toast.
Angel smiled. “Yes, pleasant surprises,” he answered but didn’t hear the, “I certainly hope so,” mumbled around the wineglass. He took a delicate sip
and nearly choked. “What the hell! What, what did you put in here!”
“A little blood?” Her look said, Don’t kill me, although they both knew (hoped) he wouldn’t.
“ ‘A little blood’ my a-- This is more than just blood! Whose is it?” She was looking everywhere but at him. “Little Girl, I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“Um, well, ya know. If ya really want ta know…” He did. “It’s mine.”
Quickly, but thoroughly, he looked her over. “There’s not a mark on you. And don’t tell me you’ve been saving it for a special occasion, this blood’s fresh. Not more than ten minutes old.” He grabbed her glass and sniffed it. Nothing there.
“How’d you do it? And don’t tell me the wounds have healed already. You may not be quite human but even vampires don’t heal that fast.” He remembered something. Grabbing a pale perfect wrist he felt it. “You slit your wrists?!” The glamour around the bandage disappeared.
“Slit is such a strong word, Uncle.”
“I should take you over my knee and spank you.”
“Incest is a crime.”
“Ugh!”
She giggled. Really, she had the worst sense of humor of any-, anything he knew. “ ‘Twill heal in moments, I promise ya or I wouldn’a done it. I haven’t seen ya in decades and ya think I’d shirk on hospitality? Puh-lease. Yer talkin’ to the wrong non-girl.
“Do ya want me ta get you another, less red, glass?” she asked, all pretense of silliness gone in the face of his anger. “But it’ll have to wait. Someone’s at the door.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
Tri-oh
She flushed. “So I have ta get the bell fixed. Sheesh,” she muttered, “never met such a picky demon in all m’life,” going for the door. “Ah, come in Winifred,” Angel heard her around the corner. “Uncle, I think you know Winifred.”
He couldn’t be hearing her right. But then his eyes wouldn’t be telling him the same thing too, would they? Was it some conspiracy of the senses and his niece? “Fred?”
“A-Angel. Hi.” She brushed a wild lock of hair out of her glasses.
“Would ya like a drink of wine?” Fred jumped as his niece glided behind her. “It might calm yer nerves.”
“Sure. I haven’t had wine in …oh ages.”
She reached for the bottle on the table. “Not that one. That’s just fer Angel. I’ll explain later. I’ll be right back yer glass, okay?”
“‘Kay.” Pouring Fred a glass from the bottle she had opened secretly-- “Ya really shouldn’t leave her out there by herself. Don’t worry I’m not going ta do somethin’ wiggy ta her drink.” Turning she handed the surprised vampire the glass. “Here, you take it out t’her,” and gently pushed him forward.
Fred took the glass from him graciously. “Ooh, I forgot how this burns. But it’s good, you know.” She looked at him expectantly. Everything hinged on his agreement.
“Yes. Yes it does.”
“That girl, she’s nice. I didn’t know you had family.”
Angel couldn’t help but glance back at the closed kitchen door. “She’s the only one.”
“Must be nice to have family,” Fred replied softly ducking her head.
“We’re your family now, me and Gunn and Cordelia and Wesley. And whenever your ready to go back to work they’re your family too. They miss you Fred. They never gave up hope.”
“I know you said that before, but-- Oh I don’t know! I’m just silly I guess.” Fred twisted her hands in her lap then ran nervous fingers through her hair. “But you know what’s really nice, havin’ my glasses back.”
Angel couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, not at all. It was me really. Everything's just been so serious the past few hours, the past month…Thank you Fred.”
“Oh but I didn’t do anything.”
“You did,” he assured her taking her hand in his and brushing his lips across her knuckles.
Her mouth was opened in a surprised O. Jittery fingers picked up the wine glass and drained the contents. She put the glass down for a moment only to pick it up again. Empty. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, one glass and I’m probably drunk as that one demon that owned me once -- he got drunk a lot,” she told Angel confidentially.
“I’m sure my niece will take care of you but I think it’s time for you to go, Fred.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She looked about herself but she had no things to gather. “When are you coming home again Angel?”
He paused, pain and longing chasing each other quickly across his face. “I honestly don’t know. Give Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley my best, will you?”
She nodded emphatically.
“There’s a cab waiting fer ya outside, Winifred.”
Angel and Fred turned surprised. “It was nice meeting you,” she shook the dark redhead’s hand vigorously. “I hope we can meet again or maybe you could come visit but that’s the same thing as meeting isn’t it?”
“It was nice meeting ya too. I think ye’ll be very good fer him.”
“He’s been very good for me.”
“I think ye’ll be better,” she answered enveloping the taller woman in a hug.
Fred smiled and gave Angel an impulsive kiss on the cheek. “Don’t forget us, or, or stay away too long because you might remember us but decide you can’t come back.”
“I’ll come back,” Angel said, “I promise.”
“Okay.” And she was gone.
“Ca--”
“Don’t say it Old Man. Save yer praise for the next time ya remember my birthday.”
“I should yank that braid right out of your head.”
“I’d love ta see ya try. I also see ye’ve finished half the bottle I made for ya.” Angel hadn’t noticed but he must have poured himself another glass or two of wine. It was heady stuff. “And so it should be. Don’t ya think ya should be going too?” she asked leaving the doorway.
Angel grabbed her before she could make her escape. Grabbing her by the arm he held her so that she had to look up into his eyes, “Don’t ever do that again,” he threatened.
On tiptoe she gave him a quick passionate kiss --
-- before throwing him onto the floor. “And here I thought ya learned the first time. I’m thinkin’ ya much prefer me as yer niece.” She dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead as she passed, laughter sparkling in her eyes.
Some time later both wine bottles -- she’d opened another “house special” for the vampire -- were completely empty and the sun had long set. “What’ll you remember about her most?”
“Mum?” He nodded. She closed her eyes and said “I’ll remember the love that she gave me, I’ll remember the way that she changed me, I’ll remember her strength now that I’m on my on. I’ll remember happiness.” She turned to him, “And ye Angel, about Buffy?”
“Aye, the same lass.”
“Will ya stay the night Angel or nae?”
“I don’t think I’m in any condition to drive.”
She giggled drunkenly. “Aye, I mun agree. Where will ya stay, on the couch or do ya think ye can make it up th’stairs wi’out breakin’ open yer head?”
“I’ll try the stairs. These are some steep stairs, Little One.”
“Just like me, the Steep Place.”
“But your first name’s Sileas, Youthful One.”
“Aye but my full name’s Sileas Cadha, Youthful One from the Steep Place.”
“Do you miss Scotland sometimes?”
“Nae as much as I miss being in Ireland with Mum. And ye Angel?”
“Aye, the same lass.”
“Ye should go back, Liam. Give yerself somethin’ ta remember.”
“Only if you’ll show me the place where you buried your mother, Sileas Cadha.”
Fin[ite]
Series: Crush
Fandom: Angel: the Series
Character(s): Angel, OC, Fred
Length: 1,676 words
Rating: PG, perhaps PG-13 for bad use of vernacular
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Summary: see part one
Notes: still badfic, but it's the last one in the series. At the time when I posted this there were some questions as to why Angel and the OC are speaking with accents. I don’t know if it’s any clearer here, but we all know that Angel’s Irish from Ireland, and I think I mention that his “niece” is Scottish and spent quite a bit of time in Ireland at some point. I must also apologize for the blatant thievery of a Madonna song. It was a bad habit of mine at the time. I’ve only gotten slightly better at it now ;P
Crush Two
“Stay fer a drink, Uncle? I’ve got a fine bottle of Nabbiolo.”
“Only if you stop calling me Uncle.”
She laughed. “Right, ‘cause that’s going to happen after nearly three centuries of practice. Riiiight. Yer quite the funny man Angel.” She walked into the living room, bottle and two glasses in hand. “Come now, a small swallow? If ya can survive a whole day with me I’m sure ya can stand a drink of Nabbiolo.”
“What, no fresh blood?” he joked. “You usually have a bottle in the fridge waiting for me. Even when I show up unexpected.”
“Yer never unexpected,” she said pouring out a glass of wine. Angel looked at her warily. She laughed. “Suspicious much, Uncle?”
Eyebrow raised he answered, “Of you? Always.” She laughed again.
About to pour herself a drink she studied the glass critically. “Be right back.” She got up and went into the kitchen still studying it giving Angel a chance to give the room a critical once over. When they had been children she’d often been at his house but it was much rarer to find young Liam at hers.
Why had he come here anyway? That’s right, she’d invited him. What better reason was there? Maybe because as much as he protested he liked knowing there was some connection to his past that wasn’t fraught with guilt and shame. Maybe he liked fooling himself into thinking that he really did have a family, that there were people waiting for him that loved him, that there was a place that, when he went there, they had to take him in. It was a childish dream, one he shouldn’t hold in his secret heart or any other place. He’d been more than happy to accept her invitation. He needed to get away. He needed to forget, to talk, to hide, to free everything that had festered inside himself --
“There now, better.” Her glass was full with the same rich red stuff as his own. “To pleasant surprises?” she asked raising her glass in a toast.
Angel smiled. “Yes, pleasant surprises,” he answered but didn’t hear the, “I certainly hope so,” mumbled around the wineglass. He took a delicate sip
and nearly choked. “What the hell! What, what did you put in here!”
“A little blood?” Her look said, Don’t kill me, although they both knew (hoped) he wouldn’t.
“ ‘A little blood’ my a-- This is more than just blood! Whose is it?” She was looking everywhere but at him. “Little Girl, I asked you a question. Answer it.”
“Um, well, ya know. If ya really want ta know…” He did. “It’s mine.”
Quickly, but thoroughly, he looked her over. “There’s not a mark on you. And don’t tell me you’ve been saving it for a special occasion, this blood’s fresh. Not more than ten minutes old.” He grabbed her glass and sniffed it. Nothing there.
“How’d you do it? And don’t tell me the wounds have healed already. You may not be quite human but even vampires don’t heal that fast.” He remembered something. Grabbing a pale perfect wrist he felt it. “You slit your wrists?!” The glamour around the bandage disappeared.
“Slit is such a strong word, Uncle.”
“I should take you over my knee and spank you.”
“Incest is a crime.”
“Ugh!”
She giggled. Really, she had the worst sense of humor of any-, anything he knew. “ ‘Twill heal in moments, I promise ya or I wouldn’a done it. I haven’t seen ya in decades and ya think I’d shirk on hospitality? Puh-lease. Yer talkin’ to the wrong non-girl.
“Do ya want me ta get you another, less red, glass?” she asked, all pretense of silliness gone in the face of his anger. “But it’ll have to wait. Someone’s at the door.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
Tri-oh
She flushed. “So I have ta get the bell fixed. Sheesh,” she muttered, “never met such a picky demon in all m’life,” going for the door. “Ah, come in Winifred,” Angel heard her around the corner. “Uncle, I think you know Winifred.”
He couldn’t be hearing her right. But then his eyes wouldn’t be telling him the same thing too, would they? Was it some conspiracy of the senses and his niece? “Fred?”
“A-Angel. Hi.” She brushed a wild lock of hair out of her glasses.
“Would ya like a drink of wine?” Fred jumped as his niece glided behind her. “It might calm yer nerves.”
“Sure. I haven’t had wine in …oh ages.”
She reached for the bottle on the table. “Not that one. That’s just fer Angel. I’ll explain later. I’ll be right back yer glass, okay?”
“‘Kay.” Pouring Fred a glass from the bottle she had opened secretly-- “Ya really shouldn’t leave her out there by herself. Don’t worry I’m not going ta do somethin’ wiggy ta her drink.” Turning she handed the surprised vampire the glass. “Here, you take it out t’her,” and gently pushed him forward.
Fred took the glass from him graciously. “Ooh, I forgot how this burns. But it’s good, you know.” She looked at him expectantly. Everything hinged on his agreement.
“Yes. Yes it does.”
“That girl, she’s nice. I didn’t know you had family.”
Angel couldn’t help but glance back at the closed kitchen door. “She’s the only one.”
“Must be nice to have family,” Fred replied softly ducking her head.
“We’re your family now, me and Gunn and Cordelia and Wesley. And whenever your ready to go back to work they’re your family too. They miss you Fred. They never gave up hope.”
“I know you said that before, but-- Oh I don’t know! I’m just silly I guess.” Fred twisted her hands in her lap then ran nervous fingers through her hair. “But you know what’s really nice, havin’ my glasses back.”
Angel couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, not at all. It was me really. Everything's just been so serious the past few hours, the past month…Thank you Fred.”
“Oh but I didn’t do anything.”
“You did,” he assured her taking her hand in his and brushing his lips across her knuckles.
Her mouth was opened in a surprised O. Jittery fingers picked up the wine glass and drained the contents. She put the glass down for a moment only to pick it up again. Empty. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, one glass and I’m probably drunk as that one demon that owned me once -- he got drunk a lot,” she told Angel confidentially.
“I’m sure my niece will take care of you but I think it’s time for you to go, Fred.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She looked about herself but she had no things to gather. “When are you coming home again Angel?”
He paused, pain and longing chasing each other quickly across his face. “I honestly don’t know. Give Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley my best, will you?”
She nodded emphatically.
“There’s a cab waiting fer ya outside, Winifred.”
Angel and Fred turned surprised. “It was nice meeting you,” she shook the dark redhead’s hand vigorously. “I hope we can meet again or maybe you could come visit but that’s the same thing as meeting isn’t it?”
“It was nice meeting ya too. I think ye’ll be very good fer him.”
“He’s been very good for me.”
“I think ye’ll be better,” she answered enveloping the taller woman in a hug.
Fred smiled and gave Angel an impulsive kiss on the cheek. “Don’t forget us, or, or stay away too long because you might remember us but decide you can’t come back.”
“I’ll come back,” Angel said, “I promise.”
“Okay.” And she was gone.
“Ca--”
“Don’t say it Old Man. Save yer praise for the next time ya remember my birthday.”
“I should yank that braid right out of your head.”
“I’d love ta see ya try. I also see ye’ve finished half the bottle I made for ya.” Angel hadn’t noticed but he must have poured himself another glass or two of wine. It was heady stuff. “And so it should be. Don’t ya think ya should be going too?” she asked leaving the doorway.
Angel grabbed her before she could make her escape. Grabbing her by the arm he held her so that she had to look up into his eyes, “Don’t ever do that again,” he threatened.
On tiptoe she gave him a quick passionate kiss --
-- before throwing him onto the floor. “And here I thought ya learned the first time. I’m thinkin’ ya much prefer me as yer niece.” She dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead as she passed, laughter sparkling in her eyes.
Some time later both wine bottles -- she’d opened another “house special” for the vampire -- were completely empty and the sun had long set. “What’ll you remember about her most?”
“Mum?” He nodded. She closed her eyes and said “I’ll remember the love that she gave me, I’ll remember the way that she changed me, I’ll remember her strength now that I’m on my on. I’ll remember happiness.” She turned to him, “And ye Angel, about Buffy?”
“Aye, the same lass.”
“Will ya stay the night Angel or nae?”
“I don’t think I’m in any condition to drive.”
She giggled drunkenly. “Aye, I mun agree. Where will ya stay, on the couch or do ya think ye can make it up th’stairs wi’out breakin’ open yer head?”
“I’ll try the stairs. These are some steep stairs, Little One.”
“Just like me, the Steep Place.”
“But your first name’s Sileas, Youthful One.”
“Aye but my full name’s Sileas Cadha, Youthful One from the Steep Place.”
“Do you miss Scotland sometimes?”
“Nae as much as I miss being in Ireland with Mum. And ye Angel?”
“Aye, the same lass.”
“Ye should go back, Liam. Give yerself somethin’ ta remember.”
“Only if you’ll show me the place where you buried your mother, Sileas Cadha.”
Fin[ite]