[The video shows Angel sitting in front of a chess board playing both sides of the board alone.]

So I'm a bit shut in right now. Any of you play Chess? Or Checkers but I don't have a checker board.

[When night fell, Angel stopped lurking and decided to man up...so to speak. He'd spent days since the luau dancing around Faith, stifling awkwardness and pretty much stalking her. What could he say, stalking was sort of his MO. However, night meant monsters came out to play and while Faith was no damsel in distress, she'd confessed to having a few more problems here than she had at home. After Ruby and Faith parted ways, Angel followed Faith a bit longer before finally stepping out of the shadows]

We should probably get in somewhere.

[Or she should. He really wanted dinner. Dinner that wasn't Faith.]

Step away from the slayer, Soul Boy. We are not chowing down on that one. No matter how hungry we are. Where the hell is the blonde one when you need her?

[What did you dream last night?]

Takes place in the Angel: After The Fall comics timeline

The sun is shining. No…you don’t understand. The sun is shining on me. I can feel the warmth against my skin, seeping into my clothes and I’m not bursting into flame. I can see Wes and Fred lying on a blanket just a few feet away underneath the shade of a large oak. Connor and Gunn are playing football and they’ve been egging me to play with them for quite a while but I’m content to just sit here in a chair and watch the ones I love.

There’s a hand at the back of my neck, warm and soft. She dips her head to place a kiss against my neck and I close my eyes.

“This is nice, isn’t it? All of us here…together.”

Before I can answer, she dips her head again, whispering in my ear.

“If you hadn’t gotten us all killed.”

Angel jolted into wakefulness, breath he didn’t need catching in his throat, constricting it tight. He scrubbed his hands over his face, into his hair then pulled the blankets back. He might as well get out of bed because he wasn’t going to be sleeping anymore today. Early afternoon and the sun was high but there was such a dense covering of smoke and ash he could have walked down Rodeo Drive, or what was left of it, at noon.

Once he’s showered and had a lukewarm cup of blood, he’ll go out and patrol. It’s more like a battle lately. He doesn’t have to hunt for anything these days because the city is thick with vampires and demons.

Slice

Punch

Slash

Kick

Stake

The snick of a blade against bone.

It was all done by rote, his mind on the dream he had.

On a place he can’t go.

A place he’s never been.

And a place he never will be.

Because he got them all killed.

["Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary." John Keating Dead Poets Society ]

If he had breath, the pressure mounting in the house would feel like he had a car sitting on his chest. He glances over at the girl in the corner next to him. She’s gasping for breath and he’s got to end this soon. The demon is floundering, losing more blood than it can survive but it’s also killing the only human in the room. His eyes narrow and he moves to the center of the room and takes a deep breath. A smirk twitches the corner of his mouth and he moves faster than anything human, lunging and swinging his broadsword in an arc over an apparently empty space in the room.

The pressure dissipates with a pop, the girl is gulping air and the body of the demon is lying at his feet, the head a few feet away. He drops his sword and moves over to the girl crouching in front of her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods, still breathless as she reaches up, her hands gripping his biceps hard. “Thank you.”

“Everything should be alright now,” Angel tells her as he helps her to her feet, stepping back once she’s steady. She’s lived her entire life imprisoned by this house, by the demon that haunted it as did her mother before her.

As he backs away, she seems to realize this and confusion sweeps across her face. “What do I do now?”

“Anything you want,” Angel responds as he picks up his sword and swipes the blades across his pants, wiping it clean. “Make your life extraordinary.”

[A list of things I need to pick up]

-Blood from the butcher
-My broadsword. I had it sharpened.
-One of my leather jackets from the cleaners
-The boots I had resoled
-The Taser I ordered for Scarlett

Angel grabbed his black leather jacket and shrugged into it. He was wearing a pretty standard pair of black pants but he had on a crimson silk shirt that he rarely wore in LA. It'd seemed appropriate for Las Vegas. He ran a hand over his hair then one over jaw. He'd shaved before the concert but he'd been up long enough that he was beginning to get a bit of stubble on his face. He considered shaving again but Scarlett was ready to go and he figured she wouldn't mind a five o'clock shadow. He walked into the main room of the suite to find Scarlett indeed ready to go. She had on a short skirt and heels. Angel rarely stopped and took time to notice because--well mostly because he was Angel but he did tonight and she was beautiful. He gave her a crooked smile.

"You look nice," he told her quietly as he walked up to her.

[Temptation]

ooc: co-written with stillacrime and whattingawhat. This falls in with the many other apocalypse storylines

The smell was overwhelming. He was drowning in it and he couldn't get away from it. He could hear their heartbeats separated from him by a wall and Angelus taunted him with images of the things he'd do, the things he wanted to do. They crawled and scratched inside his mind, wearing at his willpower like physical friction. Every second it was abraded more. He didn't bother with the elevator or the stairs, merely jumped out the window and started running. When the whole world smelled like a feast just waiting for him to glut himself upon it, there was only one safe place. He couldn't get away from it because it trickled down the sidewalks and flowed through the gutters. It dripped down into tunnels and secrets places not populated by humans. By the time he reached Buffy's apartment he was covered in blood and he'd given up the struggle against his vamp face a long time ago. He was still fighting the demon but he had to pick his battles and that one he was willing to let go. His pounding on the door was frantic and probably too hard.

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[What are you doing?]
OOC: This piece was co-written with whattingawhat, still_brooding, stillacrime, i_willpout, sonata_adagio for the ongoing Apocalypse storyline with many many others.

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