Title: LA’s Angels
Rating: R for language, violence and sexual situations
Content: C/A, B/X, F/O, F/X, C/R, C/B/F friendship, K/W – I’m gonna play around with pairings.
Summary: LA’s newest breed of knockout – an elite supernatural-crime fighting syndicate consisting of three smart, strong and beautiful women.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Just Fic. GT. Anyone else, just ask.
Thanks/Dedication:To the Fantastic Four – PushyDame (whose name should be on this story along with mine!), psychofilly, Daisy and DamnSkippy – for all their help as betas and their wonderful ideas. Sometimes I really wonder what I’d do without them…
She was in the seventh circle of hell.
Cordelia Chase gritted her teeth as the man seated at the other end of the table raised his finger at the waiter for the umpteenth time, signalling him over. That meant he was planning on opening his mouth and allowing actual words to come out, and unfortunately for Cordelia, the stick that was stuck up her blind date’s ass seemed to be affecting his speech as well as everything else.
“I asked for bottled water.” He said in that horrible nasal drawl he called a voice. Cordy winced.
Grin and bear it Chase, you’ve faced far greater evils than this.
“Honestly,” he turned to Cordelia, rolling his eyes, “you can’t get the service these days.”
I am going to KILL Buffy.
She smiled, a little too wide. “Hmm…”
“So…” He grinned at her, teeth sharp like a shark. “What was I saying? Oh yes – I’d love for you to join me golfing this weekend.” His eyes twinkled. “I own a cabin quite close to the course.”
Her stomach turned. Honestly? She’d rather pick up her fork and jam it into her eye. “Uh…”
The sharp bleeping of her beeper interrupted her and Cordelia had to suppress a sigh of relief. She glanced at it for good measure, then removed the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table, getting out of her seat.
“I have to go.” She said, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“But – ”
“It’s an emergency.” Cordelia came around the table, quickly kissing his cheek. She couldn’t quite hide the shudder. “It was nice to meet you, Cliff.”
Cliff blinked, mouth gaping open like a fish. “Uh…”
“Thanks for lunch!” Cordy said over her shoulder, hurrying away from the table. Quickly, she made her way through the restaurant and out of the main doors. She pulled out her sunglasses and slid them over her eyes, a small smile sliding onto her face as she stepped off the curb and into the street.
“Thank you, Wesley.”
Buffy Summers curled her legs up underneath her, sliding down into the sofa and wrapping the fluffy comforter around her. The warm afternoon sun shone through the large glass windows and she yawned, slowly sipping her glass of wine.
It was wonderful to have some time to herself, just some time alone with her thoughts, to relax if need be, drink some wine, catch up on her reading…
Buffy sighed. Who was she kidding? She desperately longed for someone special to share her time with, for those feelings of giddiness and overwhelming passion that she’d never really experienced with anyone before. But it seemed as though every time she met a man, the relationship was either short – lived, or he was better suited for someone else.
She frowned. If only Mr Right would just miraculously and conveniently show up…
She reached out for the book that Xander had loaned her, grabbing it from atop the table beside her and wiggling until she was entirely comfortable. She leaned her head back and slowly opened the book, balancing it between her forefinger and her thumb.
She didn’t even make it past the first line.
Buffy jumped, dropping the book, her hand flying to her chest.
She scrambled out from under the comforter and got off the couch, searching madly for her beeper. Rather than getting louder, the noise was getting further away. She was clearly going in the wrong direction.
She turned swiftly, walking over to the other side of the room and shuffling through the maze of magazines thrown haphazardly across her dining table. Finally, she found it, hidden underneath the pile.
Buffy looked at the beeper, then down at her sweats, then back at the beeper. A look of pure irritation crossed her face.
“GOD.” Faith choked out as the man beneath her bucked, his tongue leaving a liquid trail of fire down her throat. “Oh, Dan…”
“It’s Jason.” He corrected, not really sounding like he cared.
“Jason then.” Faith said, rocking her hips back and forth against his. “Oh, Jason…”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, throwing her head back as he slid his hands between her shoulder blades, down her back and settled them on her waist. His lips pressed against her breast, drawing a sigh from her.
Faith slid her hands through his hair, pulling his face away from her chest. She kissed him hard, all but devouring him as her hands slid to the base of his shirt, lifting it up and away from his body. Jason raised his arms willingly, allowing her to slide the garment off.
She raked her nails down his chest and he bucked again, sending a dizzying wave of pleasure through her. “Oh, baby…”
“Faith,” he said lowly, grabbing her hips like a lifeline. “I…want…to…fuck…you…”
Faith moaned, rolling her hips over his. She gasped as he pinched her nipple through the thin material of her shirt. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Jason peeled the shirt away from her body, tossing it to the side. He bit down lightly on her left breast, sliding his tongue over the edge of the lace. Faith slipped her hands over his shoulders, fingers trailing lightly over the strong muscles of his arms, lower, lower, lower until –
Jason hissed as she cupped him. “Fuck.”
A sense of urgency filled her and her movements became faster. Faith squeezed him through the boxers, enjoying the way his eyes widened and his lips parted, releasing a groan. His hands dug into the soft skin of her bottom, pulling her closer into the v of his thighs.
A shrill noise interrupted them, nearly making her lose her balance and fall off the bed. Faith glanced in the direction of the noise, hurling a pillow at her bag but the noise wouldn’t stop. Blinking furiously, she tried to clear the haze caused by passionate frenzy and think straight.
And it hit her.
“Shit!” Quick as a cat she rolled of Jason, picking up her discarded shirt and trousers and sliding them on. Ignoring his protests she flipped open her bag, searching for her beeper. When she found it she sighed, slinging the bag over her shoulder and throwing it back inside.
“Sorry babe.” Faith said casually, trying hard to ignore the ache between her legs. “Gotta run.”
“Wh…what?” Jason’s jaw dropped in shock and he seemed to be struggling to form a sentence. Given his aroused state, Faith wasn’t surprised. “Now? Where?”
She only raised a finger to her lips in a sign of secrecy, smiling winningly as she walked out. “Duty calls.”
The door slammed shut behind her.
It was a whole twenty-five minutes after Cordelia’s arrival (twenty minutes after Buffy’s) that Faith decided to show up. Both girls glared at her as she walked through the door, a sheepish grin on her face.
“Oh good.” Cordy drawled sarcastically. “You came.”
“No, I didn’t actually.” Faith said matter-of-factly, looking a little annoyed. She held up her beeper. “I was kindof interrupted.”
It took her a second but Cordelia caught on. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “A little too much information, Faith…”
Faith only grinned, collapsing on the sofa next to Buffy. “So? Who we killin’?”
“Mohiko demon.” Wesley Windham – Price, their watcher, mentor and, in theory, boss, appeared in the inner doorway of the room, carrying a large book. He barely looked up at them as he walked forward, sliding his glasses further up his nose. “Someone discovered it this morning, eating the remains of what I’m presuming was its first kill, and reported it to the police and Kate – uh, detective Lockley, who in turn, called me.”
Faith frowned. “No word from the PTB?”
Wesley shook his head.
“So this Mojito demon – ” Buffy started.
“Mohiko.” Wesley corrected.
“Whatever. If this is its first kill, does that mean…is it a baby?”
Wesley paused, then shrugged. “Perhaps. It may have jumped dimensions. In which case this is its first kill in Los Angeles anyway.”
Cordy stood, crossing the room. “Let’s make it its last.” She stopped adjacent to the largest wall of the room, fingers travelling rapidly over the books on the shelf. She reached for one, pulling it towards her.
Immediately the wall split open, coming slightly forward and then parting in the centre like the red sea. The two walls shifted as far apart to each side of the room as possible, then ceased movement.
The wall hidden behind them was revealed. Upon it hung a large, rectangular screen, beneath which were several weapons of various kinds – stakes, crossbows, swords, guns, knives, axes…
Cordelia grabbed a sword, sliding it neatly inside her coat. She flipped her chestnut, shoulder – length hair out of her eyes and raised an eyebrow at Wesley.
“How do we kill it?”
“I told you, you can kill anything by chopping its head off.” Faith blew the hair out of her eyes and stopped the car, turning in her seat to face Buffy. “Pay up.”
Buffy grimaced, pulling a ten-dollar note from her wallet and handing it over. She peered out from behind the windshield. “This it?”
Buffy got out of the back seat, immediately heading for the trunk. She opened it, drawing out their weapons. She flipped Cordelia her sword and passed Faith her knives. She helped herself to an axe, slamming the trunk shut.
The trio walked towards the abandoned building site, weapons in hand. The sun was beginning to set over Los Angeles and a slight chill crept into the air. They walked in comfortable silence, until –
“I cannot believe you set me up with that slime-bag.” Cordelia shot a glare at Buffy, increasing her pace.
“You didn’t like him?” Buffy sounded genuinely disappointed. “But he seemed so nice.”
“Yeah, nice and BORING.” Cordelia retorted.
Buffy frowned. “Damn. I figured I’d at least have better luck with someone else’s love life if not my own.”
Faith sniggered. “So clearly B’s not one to trust with the matchmaking.”
Cordelia shook her head in agreement, even as Buffy yelped indignantly.
Within moments, they stood before the building site, a tall and half –finished four – storey structure with what Buffy imagined, would have been a killer view.
The device in Cordelia’s hand began to buzz and beep hysterically. “Yep. We have a jumper.”
Faith raised an eyebrow.
“Dimension jumper.” Cordy clarified.
Buffy raised her axe. “Good. Now I don’t feel so bad about slaughtering the lamb.”
Faith shrugged. “Doesn’t make much difference to me.” She squared her shoulders. “Ready?”
“Here we go.” Cordy said, leading them into the building.
They discovered the demon within seconds. It was hard to miss bright green skin in a background of grey cement. The demon stood about seven feet tall, spikes following its spine all the way down to the base of the short tail at its rear. Red eyes glowed bright in a green head with vicious teeth and large ears.
It leapt out at Faith as she took a step onto the second floor of the site, knocking her to the ground. Instantly, Cordelia sliced her sword across its back, catching a spike and a thin layer of skin. The demon growled and pulled back, lashing out with its claws and causing her to nearly stumble as she tried to catch her balance.
Buffy kicked it in the stomach, making it lose its balance and Faith was able to scramble out from underneath it, her knife imbedding itself deep in the demon’s stomach. It howled, glaring at her.
“Payback’s a bitch.” She said with a shrug, leaping out of the way when it lashed out again, nearly catching her in the face.
Cordelia impressively slashed an x into the air, stepping forward on one foot and stabbing the sword into the demon’s shoulder and pulling it out. It made a slick, popping noise and she winced, cutting it through the air again when the demon recovered and reached for her. This time, she cut off a hand.
The demon screeched in agony, thrashing crazily with its good arm. It knocked into Buffy, sending her sprawling across the floor. Faith kicked the demon in the leg, punching it when it swivelled towards her. She whipped her knife through the air, slicing a clean cut across its cheek. It howled once again, making a grab for her and only succeeding in ripping out a few strands of her hair.
Nonetheless, Faith growled. “You son of a bitch!” She threw her knife, watched in satisfaction as it spun and hurtled through the air, imbedding itself between the demon’s shoulder blades. “Do you have any idea how important a girl’s hair is to her sex life?”
Cordelia nearly snorted with laughter. “Cut it some slack, Faith.” She attacked the demon again with her sword, sliding it neatly in and out of its chest.
“Why?” Faith grumped.
“Because,” Cordy grinned at Buffy, who had gotten up and raced back over, “would you fuck a face like that?”
“No way, no how, nuh – uh.” Buffy said, kicking the demon and sending it stumbling backwards a few feet. She seemed to consider it for a second. “Although, considering how deficient my love life’s been recently – ”
“Do NOT finish that sentence.” Cordy yelped, her eyes widening.
Faith tilted her head curiously. “Am I getting paid for it?”
This time Cordelia did laugh.
The demon roared, interrupting her as it staggered a few feet away, severely injured and *very* angry. It dashed raggedly at them, arms wide open as it prepared to launch. Faith and Cordelia ducked as Buffy reared her axe back, carving it expertly through the air. She took a step to the side just as the demon approached, the weapon neatly slicing its head from its shoulders.
The head rolled between them while the body continued to run for a few seconds, eventually collapsing to the ground, still. Buffy dropped the axe, releasing a tired breath as Cordy and Faith straightened.
“Well,” she said, brushing her hands off, “so much for the Mojito demon.”
Cordelia grinned at Buffy’s mispronunciation, raising her arm in an imaginary toast. “Cheers.”
The wind blew through his hair as he watched over the city of angels, *his* city, still and silent with a heavy heart. Memories flooded him, memories of a wild, untamed creature of the night, a creature with no bounds, no fears or uncertainties.
He lowered his head, his heart filled with a sadness that had settled the very day he’d signed away his soul. A sadness that refused to leave.
Memories were all they were. And all they ever would be.
He was a prisoner now, a captive in his own city.
He knew praying was beyond him – God and he had abandoned each other centuries ago. But deep in his soundless heart, deep where the taint of blood and death and deals with the devil had no meaning to a feral beast born to the darkness – there was still hope.
He had always reserved the right to hope.
Beneath him, Los Angeles slept, peaceful and unaware of a single soul’s turmoil. A soul once innocent, a soul once on a mission to redemption – a soul that now discontentedly belonged to the devil.
He swallowed, looking heavenward to the sky.
Just before the crack of dawn, an Angel hoped for an angel to save him.