RATING: PG
CONTENT: *Very* mild language
SPOILER: Becoming II
SUMMARY: Angel meets an entirely different type of angel.
DISCLAIMER: Angel, alas, does not belong to me, but to Joss Whedon. Merly belongs to Shaun Cassidy and the people from American Gothic. The quote at the end doesn't belong to me either, but comes from "Deadpool" Issue #13, which is owned by the lovely people at Marvel Comics.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is really a sort of "what-if" story that originally was going to be part of something much longer, but this scene just took on a life all its own. For any Gothniks out there, this is definitely a post-"Requiem" story; basically my take on what Merly is doing now after disappearing at the end of that episode.

Angel found himself wandering through the darkened city streets, headed for nowhere in particular. Much to his surprise, he discovered an overnight bag slung over his shoulder. Which was odd, because he certainly didn't *remember* packing it. For that matter, he couldn't remember how he had gotten out on this street in the first place. He tried to figure out where exactly he was. The area seemed familiar, but for some reason, he couldn't place where he was in town. Hell, he didn't even know what city he actually was in.

Stopping in mid-track, he tried to recall what his last memory was. Okay, he had been walking on this street for a while now and obviously he had some sort of destination in mind, but he just couldn't seem to figure out exactly what that destination was. Before that, there was...what? He vaguely recalled something about a mansion, a statue, and...a sword? And Buffy, there had definitely been something about Buffy. What was it?

> i love you. <

> close your eyes. <

He shook his head, trying to clear it. Something wasn't right. Things were muddy, a mass of jumbled thoughts and hazy memories. He should know what was happening, no matter what might have occurred in the last few months.  But everything was a mess since the night he and Buffy had...

Had what? What had they done?

He was still trying to figure it out, when a small taxi pulled up next to him. The driver's window rolled down.

"Hey there. Need a lift?" a soft, southern voice drawled.

He bent over to see who was offering. A young, dark-haired woman, not much more than a girl, smiled back at him. She was dressed in plain dark clothes, the hood of a sweatshirt pulled up over her head, shadowing her brown eyes. Though she looked harmless enough, Angel was immediately on guard.

"Er, no thanks," he declined. "I'm fine walking."

"Are you sure? What with the rain and all."

"Rain? What ra-" he was interrupted by a sudden crash of thunder and the beginnings of a torrential downpour. As he quickly became soaked, he could only gape at the girl in front of him. She grinned back.

"Come on. Hop in before you catch a cold out there."

Slightly bewildered, he climbed into the back of the cab and out of the rain, not bothering to point out that it was pretty much impossible for him to catch a cold. She pulled away from the stop, flicked on her wipers, and they were on their way.

"So where you headed to, Mister?" she asked, her eyes regarding him in the rearview mirror. He knew there was no reflection there for her to look at, yet he could swear that she saw him anyway. Fighting against an unbidden chill, he answered.

"Um, I'm not sure. North, I think."

"North?" There was a hint of amusement in her voice. "Ain't that a bit vague?"

"Look," he suddenly snapped. "Just take me as far you can and I'll pay you whatever it's worth, but north is where I want to go, okay?"

"Okay. Whatever you say. Jeez."

Silence settled over the car, the only sound the swishing of the wipers against the windshield. Angel brooded in the corner of the seat, sullenly staring straight out the window. There was nothing to see out there - the storm hid it all - and he didn't even have the comfort of having his own reflection stare back at him from the dark. The thought just worsened his mood. What was wrong with him anyway? There hadn't been any need to get angry with the driver in front of him when all she had tried to do was be friendly. Why did he even want to go north? It didn't seem worth sulking over it, but he truly couldn't understand why he had said it. It was just the first place that popped into his mind.

"What's your name, honey?" the girl suddenly spoke up, making Angel jump at the sudden noise.

"P-pardon?"

"Your name? If we're going to be traveling together for a while, I'd like to know who I'm traveling with."

"Oh, it's Angel."

"Really? I like that name. Sort of romantic."

"Huh," Angel grunted noncommittally, refraining from making a snide remark about how she should get to know him better.

"I'm Merly, by the way," she said after he didn't continue.

"Oh."

"So what're you running from, Angel?"

"Excuse me?" His head suddenly snapped up, his attention fully returned to the conversation. "Who said I was running away from anything?"

"Honey, believe me when I say I know the look," she answered, some grandmotherliness entering her tone. "Want to talk?"

Angel snorted in skepticism. "I'm sorry to say, but I don't think you have enough experience to deal with my problems."

"You'd be surprised," she answered flatly, displeasure clearly coming through. Her mood changed quickly though. "Besides, sometimes it just helps to have somebody to listen." Angel was about to answer, but a sudden screech of the wheels prevented him from saying anything. Merly cursed under her breath as the car fishtailed beneath her, while Angel only had a moment to realize that he forgot his seatbelt before he was thrown into the seat in front of him. Eventually, the girl got the car back under control, giving him a moment to pull himself off the floor. Rubbing a sore spot on his shoulders, he grumbled something derogatory about cab drivers and raised himself off the ground. Glancing up, he froze.

From his position he could now see the girl's head and shoulders in the rearview mirror. Only instead of being in dark, heavy clothing, she was dressed in a simple, white sundress, her brown hair falling in soft waves to her shoulders. Most importantly however, she appeared to be glowing with some inner light, as though she were standing in the midday sun rather than a dark cab in the middle of a thunderstorm. Angel sat back heavily in his seat, attempting to figure out what exactly was going on without losing his mind in the process.

"Who are you?" he spoke in quiet awe.

She laughed. "I told you. My name's Merly."

"Then, *what* are you?"

She sighed. "Well, I guess that's a fair question. I suppose I'm just someone to make sure you get back on the right track."

"I don't get it," he stated. "Are you like Whistler?"

"Whistler?" She laughed again, a beautiful tinkling sound, like falling glass. "In a way, I guess. It's not such a bad comparison."

"So, what are you going to do?" he asked, bitterness seeping into his words. "Prepare me for some big, important destiny that I have no control over? Have the woman I love give everything to me, just so I can destroy it? Watch me kill the only one who could have helped me?"

He could almost hear the raised eyebrows. "You remember?"

"I-" he stopped, finally realizing what he just said. "No, no I don't, I mean, well, not really," he finished weakly.

She shook her head. "Fine. I can't make you talk about it, so we'll just leave it for right now. If I learned nothing else from my last assignment, it's that you can't go forcing other people to do what you want."

A moment or two of uncomfortable silence passed, then he asked timidly, "Um, where are we? I thought I recognized the city, but..."

"Well, that's a tough question to answer, 'cause in the strictest sense of the word we actually aren't anywhere."

"I don't follow."

"Okay, let's for the sake of argument say we're on a road," she said patiently. "It's not important where the road is, but the fact that it *is* a road. And at the moment, we're traveling on it, in between two destinations. We're neither here nor there, but somewhere in the middle."

He frowned. "That's not much of an answer."

"It's not much of a question," she countered.

"Alright, alright, we're on a road, I get the picture. But where does the road lead?"

"Depends on the traveler. Each road will eventually fork and it's up to you to decide where you want to go from there. Meanwhile, I'm here to offer advice and hopefully get you going in the right direction. But ultimately, the decision to continue is gonna rest on your shoulders."

Once more, serenity overtook the car as Angel withdrew into his thoughts, mulling over what she had just said. Things remained this way for a time, neither occupant feeling the need to speak. Finally, Angel talked as he noticed a change in the weather.

"Rain's letting up."

"Uh-huh," was the response.

"I think I'll get out here, if you don't mind."

She glanced quickly back at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah. Pull over."

Obliging him, she guided the car to the side of the road. When she stopped, he immediately got out and stretched his legs, taking in his surroundings. The cab was alone on a long length of highway flanked on either side by cornfields. Or at least that's what he could make out in the dim lighting, even with his vampiric-enhanced senses. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he walked up to the front of the taxi and leaned into the driver's side window.

"What do I owe you?" he asked, the barest hint of a smile on his face.

She returned it with a wry grin of her own. "Tell you what, I'll let you go free of charge this time. But don't go spreading that around, I could lose my taxi license."

His smile cracked a bit more. "Will do."

He started to walk away, when she called out to him. "Hey, Angel!"

"Yeah?"

"Can I give a bit of parting advice?" When he nodded, she continued. "A wise man once said that you gotta walk the road to redemption on your own two feet, not on the back of somebody else's dream. Because in the end, you're the only one who can get yourself there."

His smile faltered. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

She gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "You will."

With that, she turned the car around and drove off, leaving him alone in the street. Looking upwards, he saw the storm clouds parting, giving way to a sky full of stars and a gentle moon. The light illuminated the area, surrounding him in a soft, fanciful glow. Over his long life span, he had grown tired of the moon's light, finding it to be cold and often harsh, as he desperately wished for the warm light of the sun. Now, however, as he looked towards the long road before him, he found he didn't mind so much.

> you gotta walk the road to redemption on your own two feet. <

Well, here was a road in front of him. He just had to use it.

Whistling softly, he started walking.

End

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