What's My Line: Part I
I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Hellsing. They are owned by Joss Whedon and Kouta Hirano, respectively.
Opinions of Angel expressed by Elizabeth and/or Alexander are uncharitable to say the least...
November 15th 1997
Spike, formerly William Ragsdale, sat sulking in his warehouse lair, desperately trying to figure out how to deal with the slayer long enough to bring Drusilla up to full strength again. The former member of the Scourge of Europe had been incredibly frustrated by the seeming empowerment of the whelp and the chilling new attitude the slayer seemed to have towards the undead these days. This particular slayer had always seemed a touch less focused then her predecessors. Not now. These days she was a juggernaut, hell bent on destroying the undead completely…
Spike had thought that maybe Billy Fordham might catch her off guard, but the little twit had been stupid enough to ask the whelp to turn him. When the whelp had figured out that Ford had initially intended to give ‘Elizabeth’ to Spike as payment for being turned, the bloody madman had thrown the dying boy through a plate glass window. Billy Fordham had, ironically enough, spent his last days on life support for a set of injuries completely unrelated to his fatal illness. When Ford had, on his deathbed, asked why the whelp wouldn’t turn him, the kid had claimed Ford was a coward, unworthy of being Nosferatu. If Spike was truly honest with himself, he agreed completely. The sniveling Ford had been no loss, though his usefulness had gone with him, which was unfortunate.
It was in the height of his sulk that Drusilla began turning over her cards, hinting at things that would be coming for the slayer. Noting the shapes seen, Spike came to an epiphany. “The Order of Taraka. If anyone can keep the slayer and her uber-whelp distracted, it’s them.” Spike shouted for Dalton before realising that the moron had gotten himself killed by the whelp. He then called for Henry to help him get the contract set up. The more distracted the slayer and her bodyguard were, the better things would be. “Let’s see how clever you really are, Slayer. It’s time to bring the game up to the next level…”
**1630 Revello Drive
November 17th 1997
Elizabeth Summers walked calmly into her room, considering the change in her relationship with her mother over the past few weeks. Knowing as she did that concealing her changes from her mother would be impossible, Elizabeth had decided to lay everything on the table before her mother. Joyce had been avidly denying it up until Elizabeth had calmly pulled a pistol and put a half dozen bullets into Alexander, who burst out laughing, saying that they tickled.
Joyce had not known how to take the fact that her daughter had been the slayer. She had even less frame of reference to finding her daughter had some sort of soul bond with a youth who was arguably the most powerful vampire in existence, or that her daughter now felt an incredible sense of responsibility towards taking back the night.
Finding out that the sweet boy she had dreamed of having as her son-in-law was now the No-Life-King was almost worse. Joyce had held out a certain hope that Elizabeth would see Alexander in a romantic way since she had met the lad. That possibility had seemed utterly extinguished when Alexander had broken down sniggering and her daughter had finally lost patience with him, firing another spray of bullets and telling him to get out.
Elizabeth sighed. She allowed Alexander to get under her skin too easily these days. The damned vampired was even worse then Alucard had been with his twisted sense of humour. Alexander seemed to delight in having his blood in more and more twisted ways. He’d slurped it like tomato soup, poured it into a wine glass… He was incorrigible.
Elizabeth spun around, pointing her Walther PPK at the intruder. “What are you doing here, Trash?”
Angel looked vaguely hurt. Tough. “I just wanted to make sure you got home alright. Ever since you lost your slayer abilities… well, I’ve been worried about you.”
Elizabeth was not impressed. “Let me inform you of something, Trash. How I am doing is none of your concern. I do not consort with demon-breed vampires as a matter of course any longer. I also find myself questioning your motives.”
Angel’s hurt expression was anything but vague now. “What are you talking about? I’ve done the best I could for you!”
“Like your wonderful warnings about Drusilla’s return?”
“I’m sorry. I felt guilty about turning her, okay?”
“No it is not, Angel. You allowed one of your childer to operate on the Hellmouth without my knowledge, endangering countless lives in the process. And that is just one occasion. I could name countless others since you came to Sunnydale…”
Angel looked very sad for a moment. “What ever happened to Buffy? The one who used to trust me? Remember her?”
Elizabeth’s face could have been cast from iron. “Buffy was an idealistic child who fell prey to more manipulators then you could shake a stick at. You being the foremost among them.”
“I never manipulated Buffy.”
“Lies. What about the Master’s cave?”
“I brought Xander to the cave and Xander saved her… your life. What was manipulative about that?”
“Even now you attempt it. Fine, I’ll ask the question that Buffy was too naïve to ask at the time. Why bring Alexander?”
“You had drowned! I’m a vampire. No breathing remember.”
Elizabeth smirked. “You must think I’m as foolish as she was, Angelus. Two lies in three sentences. We’ll deal with the second first, shall we? How can Spike smoke a cigarette the way he does if he can’t breath. Oh, I know he doesn’t need to, but he’s capable of it. That means that you, the sire of his sire, should be equally capable.”
Angel flinched. “That’s one lie. I’ll admit that I panicked and didn’t think of that at the time. I was embarrassed and so I didn’t bring it up.”
Elizabeth shrugged. She had known he would dodge that point. It didn’t concern her in the slightest. She had been saving the big stuff for last. “And how did you know I had drowned?”
“You claimed to have brought Alexander because I had drowned and someone needed to be there to give CPR.”
Angel must have eaten recently, because he blushed brightly. He knew full well that she had caught him in a falsehood and had likely gotten the whole story from Xander. What was worse was that she’d take Xander’s word over his these days. “So you’re dropping me for Xander? What is this, some kind of trade up to a better grade of monster?”
Elizabeth snorted. “Me? Date Alexander? You must be maddened, Trash. Alexander is a vampire. Granted, he is a particularly unique and powerful one, but that just makes him a more useful tool. His bindings to my service combine to make him a trustworthy tool. The same cannot be said of the so-called vampire with a soul, now can it?”
Angel flinched at that verbal salvo, delivered in such an icy voice that he felt it chill his very bones. “So we’re done then?”
Elizabeth stared at Angel fiercely, her resolve unshaken. A small portion of the idealist within her cried out to give her one-time soul mate another chance, but Elizabeth ruthlessly crushed the impulse. “Done what, Angelus. To finish something between us would imply that there was something in the first place. All there ever was were lies and manipulations from you, mixed up with foolish idealism from me and a disturbing fixation on tragic romance by Miss Willow that caused her to push me towards you.”
Angel nodded absently and slipped out of the window, certain now that it truly was over. Buffy no longer existed and Elizabeth would barely tolerate him as an ally. He would never understand later just how lucky he’d been.
Elizabeth extended her senses and nodded at what they told her. “You can come out now, Alexander.”
Alexander slipped through the wall as if it weren’t there. “What is your opinion of that trash, my Master?”
Elizabeth’s lip curled slightly. “He may yet prove a useful ally. Still, it is best to take no chances, Alexander. You will be watching over me while I sleep, until such time as we can get Rupert or Miss Calendar to initiate a deinvitation spell. I dislike entering my bedroom to find a master vampire is making himself at home, regardless of his supposed soul. I may not be able to prevent you from visiting when you will, but I’ll be damned if I allow any of that vermin such access when I can prevent it.”
“Would you like me to watch over you in the shower, too?” The grin on Alexander’s face was positively lecherous, not to mention incorrigible.
“Do you truly enjoy being shot that much?” Alexander simply shrugged, though Elizabeth could tell he’d never actually do so, even without their bond. Well… not without her permission anyway, and he would never have that one…
‘Never say never, Master. You never know when you’ll need me in your shower.’
‘Alexander, the day I need you in my shower will be the day I die…’
Be careful what you wish for...