A Loss of Pride by Mabel Marsters

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Chapter 30: The Truth Will Out

As dawn was breaking Buffy and Angel returned to the Old Hyperion exhausted and thoroughly disheartened. Despite all of their efforts they’d found no clue as to what had happened to Spike. Too tired to talk they plodded into the foyer.

Moira must have been looking out for them as they had barely stepped inside before she approached them.

“Any news?” she asked.

Angel wearily shook his head and Buffy finally lost control and burst into tears. Moira guided her to the seats in the centre of the foyer and sat with her arm around the younger woman. Buffy clung to her.

“Where are the others?” asked Angel.

“They’re sleeping. We decided to keep watch one at a time so the others could get some rest. No one has called or been here.”

Moira gestured for Angel to take her place with Buffy.

“I’ll go and make her a hot drink,” she said.

Angel sat next to Buffy and swore that he’d find Spike and kill whoever had taken him, as he felt Buffy’s body wracked with sobs. With his thoughts elsewhere he realised too late that Moira had gone to the refrigerator in his office and not in the apartment.

“Oh Christ,” he muttered, easing himself away from Buffy.

He got up and rushed to the office, freezing as he saw Moira standing in front of the refrigerator. The door was open and she held a mug of blood in her hand. She turned to look at Angel, screamed and dropped the mug. It broke and the blood splattered over her shoes. She stepped back in horror. Angel hadn’t taken any blood the previous night and the rare steak had done little to appease his need. Now tired and hungry as he was he’d been unable to keep the demon from showing its face when he’d smelled the blood. Moira’s terror appealed to the demon within and he struggled to change back. He held his hands up to try to placate her. Buffy raced into the room.

“What’s happening?” Her eyes darted everywhere seeking the reason for Moira’s scream. Moira’s eyes were locked on to Angel. Buffy glanced at him. “Oh, crap!”

She noticed the spilled blood and could guess what had happened. She walked quickly to the refrigerator, took out a couple of bags of blood and tossed them to Angel who was still in his game face.

“I think you’d better go and get some rest.”

Buffy turned her attention to Moira who was still transfixed.

“Come on Moira, let’s go and sit down,” said Buffy gently.

“But his…the refrigerator…what…?” stuttered Moira as her very logical mind tried to make sense of what she’d seen.

“We’ll go to the apartment. It’ll be a bit comfier there,” said Buffy, putting a hand on Moira and encouraging her to move.

Meekly she allowed Buffy to lead her to the apartment and she sat down with a thud on the couch. Buffy made a couple of cups of coffee and put four teaspoonfuls of sugar in one of them. She was aware that Moira was watching her intently. Buffy sat down next to her and passed her the sweetened cup.

“I don’t take sugar,” said Moira, her voice shaky.

“Trust me, if you want to know the truth about us then you’re going to need the sugar to help with the shock,” replied Buffy with a smile.

“I’m not sure that I want to know the truth but I think that I need to know it,” said Moira, sipping at her coffee and grimacing at its unaccustomed sweetness.

“Okay, how do I do this? Do I break it gently? Or do I …” “Angel’s a vampire,” said Buffy, deciding that breaking it gently wasn’t really an option.

Moira choked on her coffee. It wasn’t so much a reaction to what Buffy had said, rather the calm manner in which she said it.

“But…he…how…?” Moira gave up. Her brain just couldn’t put her thoughts into coherent sentences.

“I know that it’s a shock and it wasn’t the best way for you to find out,” said Buffy.

“Like there is a good way to find out that someone is a vampire?” thought Moira incredulously.

Seeing that the poor woman next to her was struggling to cope, Buffy said, “I’ll give you a brief version of the details and you can just ask questions as we go along, okay?”

Moira nodded.

“Some of the things that people think are legend or myth are actually real. We share this world with a variety of creatures that you don’t think exist; vampires are just one of them. Angel was turned into a vampire in 1753 and for many years he acted exactly as you would expect a storybook vampire to behave. He killed and terrorised, mostly for the fun of it. Then one day he was cursed by gypsies after killing one of their clan and they gave him back his soul.”

“His soul?” queried Moira, “Why would that be a curse?”

“When a person is turned into a vampire a demon is released into them, bringing immortality and the need for blood with it. But the soul is driven out because a vampire must have no conscience about the kills he makes, he must feel no guilt or remorse, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to hunt. When the gypsies cursed Angel with the return of his soul he could feel the guilt for every single person he had ever killed. It almost drove him insane but eventually he learned to deal. He joined forces with me for a while before coming to LA to help people in need to try to atone for his past sins.”

“But the blood…”

“A vampire has to have blood, there is just no way he can avoid that, but he drinks either animal blood or donated human blood that is no longer fit for use.”

“Oh,” said Moira weakly, “So Angel is unique then, in being a vampire with a soul?”

“Yes,” replied Buffy honestly, not wanting to get into any conversations about Spike’s life.

“You said that he joined forces with you. What did that mean? Are you a vampire too?”

“No, I’m a vampire slayer,” said Buffy.

“Now you’re fooling with me,” snapped Moira.

“No, I’m not, Moira,” soothed Buffy before telling her about slayers.

“So where does Spike fit into this? He’s not normal either, is he? That would explain his recovery.”

“What do I say?” “He’s sort of a demon fighter like me,” said Buffy, “He does have enhanced healing powers but it’s something that happened to him recently as a reward for…er…averting an …um…well, an apocalypse.” “Nice explanation Buffy – way to go!” she thought sarcastically.

“Right,” said Moira slowly, “So you’re telling me that Spike saved the world?”

“Twice actually,” said Buffy with a grin, “Though he does claim at least half the credit for another.”

“You do know how crazy this all sounds?”

“I do, Moira, but I swear to you that it’s true.”

“If I hadn’t seen…I would never have believed you.”

“Angel will be feeling terrible that he scared you. He normally can control his demon but when a vampire is stressed or too hungry for blood the demon can fight its way out unbidden. He’s a good person, Moira; please don’t think badly of him. He can’t help what he is.”

“So what do you think has happened to Spike?” asked Moira, “Is that something supernatural too?”

Buffy sagged a little. “We’re sure it’s demonic but we got no clues tonight at all. We don’t know where he is or why he was taken.”

Moira looked at Buffy properly for the first time since her return and saw the exhaustion in her face.

“I think that you need to get some rest. I’ll be okay. It’s Brad’s turn for watch. I’ll go and wake him and then I can sleep on everything that you have told me. Let it sink in some.”

“I am about ready to drop,” admitted Buffy, “Are you sure that you’re okay though?”

Moira nodded, “Just get some sleep. We can talk more later.”

Buffy walked up the stairs with Moira. Not able to bear sleeping in the apartment without Spike, she instead went to his old bedroom. Buffy showered quickly and snuggled into the sheets, savouring the faint smell of him on the t-shirt she pulled from a drawer to sleep in.

Moira walked further along the corridor to the door where Brad and Laura were sleeping. She raised her hand to knock and then stopped. Was there really any point in waking him? It was obvious that the whole ‘wait beside the telephone’ thing had been a ruse to keep them out of the way. She decided to let them sleep. She walked back along the corridor to the room that she knew was Angel’s. When they’d been looking for bedrooms they could use they’d opened the doors to both Spike and Angel’s. She tapped lightly on the door.

“Come in.”

She opened the door and stepped inside. Angel sat on the bed with his head in his hands. He’d expected it to be Buffy but as the door opened he could smell Moira. He didn’t turn around.

“C…can we talk?” asked Moira hesitantly.

Angel sighed, “I suppose we had better,” he replied quietly.

Why did he always end up attracted to humans? He couldn’t be with another vampire because of his soul. By now he should have learnt that human/vampire relationships were doomed before they started, even with ones who knew of the demon world.

When Angel didn’t move from sitting with his back to her Moira walked round until she was in front of him. He self-consciously pushed the two empty blood bags under the bed hoping that she hadn’t noticed. She had.

“Angel?”

He looked up at her. She was tall, very tall for a woman, at just about six feet. He felt a pang as he suddenly had an inkling of how Spike must have felt having to look up at everyone from his chair. No wonder he’d wanted to use the walker so badly. Something must have shown in Angel’s face because Moira reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He met her eyes, surprised that she’d care after he’d scared the life out of her downstairs. He felt ashamed at losing control like that. It had been the first time in years that he had and it just had to happen in front of the first woman he’d truly felt attracted to since Cordelia.

“I’ve been better,” he said honestly, “I’m sorry that I frightened you.” He looked off, not able to meet her eye again.

Moira pulled up a chair and sat opposite him, close enough that their knees were almost touching.

“Um…Buffy told me what you are.”

She noticed him flinch as she said ‘what’. Angel just remained silent.

“Angel, when I asked if we could talk I didn’t mean for me to be the only one doing any.”

Angel looked up, amazed at her amused tone of voice. She smiled at him.

“Okay, I’ve shown her my game face with no warning and she can still smile at me…?”

Angel risked a smile back. “Sorry, I just don’t know what to say. I’m not so good with words. Normally Spike has enough for the both of us.”

Moira’s smile broadened slightly, “Yes, Spike can be a bit vocal,” she said softly, “He’s not normal either, is he? Buffy didn’t tell me his story but will you?”

“I think that you and Brad and Laura really should go home and forget about us all,” replied Angel firmly, “You’ll be safer.”

“What? And just forget what I saw downstairs?” snapped Moira, “For God’s sake, Angel, how can you expect me to walk away knowing that vampires and Christ knows what else exists? How is that safer? Every time I have lunch with an attractive man I’ll be wondering if he’s really a vampire. The next time it’ll be one without a soul, as Buffy told me that you were unique, so presumably I’d end up as dessert. I had the feeling there was something not quite right with you and Spike but hell, I never expected this.”

Angel looked at her incredulously. “How can you bear to be near me, knowing what I am?”

“I’m a thirty-seven year old forthright, professional woman, Angel. Have you any idea how difficult it is to find someone who is looking for what I am?”

They stared at each other for a moment before laughing softly.

“You’re remarkable,” said Angel.

“Remarkable, eh? I was hoping for ‘hot’ but I can settle for that, I suppose,” said Moira with a wry smile.

Angel could sense her arousal, just as he had each time that they’d met. The difference was that this time, she knew exactly what he was. He tentatively reached out and took her hand.

“I should make you leave.”

“You’re forgetting the whole ‘forthright woman’ thing. That really translates to bossy surely you know that?”

“That’s true.” He smiled. “Why did you think that there was something odd about me and Spike?” asked Angel curiously, “I thought I did a pretty good job at being ‘normal’.”

“A few things really. Don’t forget, I am a psychiatrist so I pick up on subtle things.” She frowned, “I wasn’t good enough to prevent Spike’s suicide attempt though.” She sighed and then continued, “The fact that you always paid the not inconsiderable bill with cash made me sit up and take notice. I thought that you might be with the Mafia. Then there was the relationship between the both of you. To begin with I thought that you were a couple…” Moira chuckled at the horrified expression on Angel’s face. “But then I decided that it was more like father and son which struck me as odd as you were of a similar age - or appeared to be anyway. Then that day we had lunch and you were so adamant about sitting in the shade in the dining room and not near a window, that I thought that you must have some strange phobia of it. You are very pale after all. I guess I know why now. Is it true that vampires can’t go out in sunlight?”

“Yes it’s true. There’s a slight problem with spontaneous combustion. Most of the movies got the facts just about right. We need an invitation to get into a private home. A wooden stake in the heart or lopping off our heads will, in addition to sunlight, kill us. Crosses and holy water burn us. Garlic? Well, that just makes the victim taste freaking terrible,” said Angel, trying and failing to shock Moira.

“Can’t bear the stuff myself,” she replied.

“Christ, she’s incredible.”

“That’s a step up from remarkable I guess?” said Moira, startling Angel who hadn’t realised that he’d said it aloud.

He looked deep into her eyes, “It’s about three steps up from ‘hot’,” he said quietly. God, he wanted to kiss her but he knew that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t.

Moira got up and sat on the bed next to him. When he turned to look at her she leaned in close and kissed him gently on his lips. He pulled away.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Buffy says that you’re a good man, Angel. It’s hard to find a good man that’s taller than me,” she smiled.

“I’d better tell you about Spike,” said Angel, unwilling to go where she wanted to just yet. He needed her to be aware of everything before he took that step.

“Okay,” said Moira, sensing the conflict in Angel and guessing its cause. She couldn’t believe that she was sitting on a bed next to a centuries old vampire, let alone that she’d just kissed one.

“I met Spike for the first time in 1880…”

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