Short chapter, kinda choppy, needed it in though and couldn't figure out how to
make it work so, bear with me until the next chapter is posted. It'll be
exciting because, *gasp* people will actually be LEAVING the hospital. Duh
Thanks for all the reviews and support. I love you guys.
To show my love, I did a little wallpaper to go with the story so you could see what
I visualize for all of the girls. Feel free to make any fanart requests you may
want, either for this fic, something else I've written or hell, your own. I like
doing fanart. :) Sorry its a bit big- let me know if people need me to scale it
down. Also, answering reviews later this weekend so, check back for
answered questions from last chapter and this one.
******************** Trick or Treat: Chapter Forty ************************
Faith watched, amused, as Buffy made a studious effort to ignore the black, leather
clad Vampire in their midst. SG1 wasn’t even trying to hide their fascination, and
Faith felt a momentary pang over Spike, if only because he would have loved to go
game face on the noobs. Oh man… she was spending way too much time with Andrew
and the X-Man, they were starting to infect her.
Not that the girls were much better. Xander’s lot were watching Angel with wide
eyes. Most of them knew the history of Sunnydale, and a lot of what had gone down
in LA over the years, but they were also Xander’s kids. That meant the healthy
awe and respect was tempered by an even healthier dose of instant dislike.
If it hadn’t been so damn funny, she’d feel sorry for him.
Faith glanced over at the two non-SG1 military men sitting next to her.
She grinned wickedly. “Nah, that’s you two’s new best friend. Play nice and
he’ll probably make sure you don’t get killed on some alien world.”
Graham and Riley glowered. “I’d rather die,” B’s old squeeze muttered.
Faith clapped him on the back. “All you have to do is ask.”
George Hammond hung up his phone carefully. He regarded it gravely for a few
moments, opened his mouth, and closed it again, just as carefully. He glanced at
his clock, reading at just a few minutes before noon, and gingerly rose and went
to one of his back cabinets.
He pulled out a nearly empty bottle of whiskey and a single shot glass and set them
on his desk. George wasn’t a drinking man, he’d seen too many good men lost to
the bottle to ever go down that road, but his life wasn’t exactly stress free.
This was his emergency bottle, for times when teams didn’t come home, or, well,
really anytime he sent SG-1 out on a mission.
Or for the times when his 2IC called and gave a status report since Alexander
Lavelle Harris had come to the base.
George poured the shot, threw it back, and just as methodically put the bottle
and shot glass back in the cabinet. He returned to his office chair and leaned
back, letting the aftertaste burn for a moment, before taking a deep breath
and reaching for the red phone on his desk.
A Vampire, a pair of special ops, and a witch were coming to his mountain. Jack
swore it was to help, but George was still calming people down after the last time
the white haired Willow Rosenberg had decided to pay a visit.
His fingers reached out and dialed the well known number. “Yes, Mr. President,
this is General Hammond. I have some news I was told you’d find of interest. No,
not just about the Stargate. I’ve been told to pass a message on to you from
the Council. Yes, Mr. President. Buffy Summers’ Council. No Mr. President, it
looks like it may be a good thing for the world.”
Buffy cursed being short as she hypnotically watched her legs swing back and
forth, back and forth from her perch on the empty hospital bed that Willow had
been occupying during her magic drain induced nap. The shower in the private
bathroom was causing the pipes the clang against the walls, and she could faintly
hear Xander singing cheerily off-key through the thin plaster.
The tension between her and Angel who was sitting next to her on the bed was
a palatable thing, more so than their love had ever been. Not that there
wasn’t sexual tension mixed up with all the other kinds. Buffy didn’t like to
admit it, but if she was a weaker woman she be on him like gravy on turkey in a
minute out of sheer physical attraction. Stupid hormones.
Stupid Angel, with the surprising and the noble knight shtick.
“Did you forget how to use a phone?”
His hand hovered a few inches from her should, face anguished. “Buffy…”
She hopped off the bed and stamped her feet, not caring that she as acting like
a petulant teenager. Hell, Faith was STILL going through her parental
rebellion phase, though admittedly, sans parents. “Oh come on Angel!”
He rose too, and then he was towering over her, and that annoyed her anymore.
“Buffy, we’re adults…”
“No, WE’RE not,” she replied mulishly, “I’M an adult, YOU’RE a CORPSE!”
Angel regarded her warily and she stamped one foot again, for good measure.
His eyebrow raised in response to the action, clearly decrying her declaration
“What bothers you more, the fact that I didn’t call to let you know that I was
coming to Cleveland when you may not be here, or the fact that Xander didn’t tell
you that he’d called me in?”
She huffed and blew her bangs out of her eyes. Man, she was SO going to be glad
when long bangs weren’t in fashion anymore. They were a pain in the ass, but
wait, not NEARLY as big a pain in the ass as a certain tragic ex-lover. “I
expect that kind of behavior from XANDER.” Although, granted, she NEVER would
have expected him to call in Angel. That would require, well, calling Angel.
Talking to him even.
“Cookie dough, remember?” Angel responded mildly.
“Yeah, well, at this rate, my cookies are going to be burned long before they
take shape. Plus, Spike, dead and all, kind of leaves me with a lack of
“You never would have ended up with Spike.”
“Look who’s talking, Dead Boy.” Xander moved from the bathroom, steam following
him. Buffy fought the urge to laugh at him. There was a towel tied
haphazardly around his waist, and a turban style one on his head, with enough
dark hair escaping in the front that her Xander shaped friend looked
particularly silly. But, no, not laughing, must finish serious conversation.
“Xan, Angel and I were trying to have a private talk.”
He went over to the dresser. Some of the girls had went out to Walmart and bought
a pair of jeans, underwear, and a shirt for Xan to change into after a shower.
“No, you weren’t. You were having a yelling match and you of all people should
know how NOT private those end up being in this crowd.”
Stupid heightened senses. Great, the rest of the circus was probably listening
Buffy turned back to Angel and studiously ignored Xander doing some tricky
non-naked showing changing under his towel behind her. “I guess I shouldn’t ask
you to call.”
Angel sighed and pulled her to him, tucking her body into a full hug so that his
chin rested on the top of her head as Buffy blinked back unexpected tears. She took
a deep breath, reveling in his familiar smell, even as the part of her that had
loved Spike cackled over the knowledge of how many hair products he must have used
to give that particular smell. They stayed like that for a long moment, before
he kissed her forehead with careful gravity and stepped away. “I’ll write.”
She smiled tremulously. “I hope you get a sunburn.”
Angel’s own smile was soft and bright, something she hadn’t seen in years, since
she was young and he’d loved her like a man finding his soul mate. His
fingers lingered on her cheek before he stepped away.
Xander placed a gentle hand on one shoulder, not afraid at all the bridge the
distance between them. Buffy scrubbed her cheeks with the back of one hand,
dashing the tears away. She looked over and started laughing.
Xander glowered and straightened his Hawaiian shirt ruefully. “The girls found one
of the old photo albums that made it through Sunny Hell and have been giving me a
hard time about my lack of fashion sense.”
She surprised him by turning and giving him a fierce hug. “We’re so lucky to
“Aww, come on Buff, you’re going to make me all teary eyed. Then my mascara will
run and I’ll NEVER hear the end of it.”
She punched him in the arm and he yelped, a reassuringly Xander reaction. It
“I’m okay, Xan.”
He poked her arm with considerable less force. “Okay okay, or okay fine?”
Buffy stuck her tongue out at him. “Okay, in the I’m okay with Angel traipsing off
to worlds unknown for the good of Earth, okay. Especially if Riley and Graham
are there to keep him from getting dusted. And Willow if she feels
“Are we okay?”
The tongue turned into crossed eyes. “Yes worry wart. I think the fact that you
and Dawn were trying desperately to keep Willow and I out of this little
adventure excuses you from not giving me a call about you brining Angel in.
Just surprised me and I deal with Angel surprises about as well as I deal with
Dawn getting a tattoo.”
“It surprised me that Funny Hair actually showed up.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll play nice once he’s
gone, promise.” She snorted. There was a pause, and then, “So, did you really
say ‘I’m an adult, you’re a corpse’ to your great love?”
“Xander!” she screeched even as he grabbed her for another hug.
“Stupid head,” she muttered into his floral patterned shoulder.
“That’s the general consensus.” She snorted, even as a smile threatened to
peak through. “Don’t ever change Buff.”
“Only if you promise to always be here.”
He chuckled. “Good plan.”
And for once, it was.