Summary: Angel has been tried by the PTB's and found wanting. He sits in a cell, awaiting execution, and is brought his last meal.

Rating: PG

Comments: Just a bit of bank holiday fun for all the family. Hope it raises a chuckle. (The P in the PG is for occasional bad language).

Last Meal

"This is the last one. Cell 426."

The Oracle pulled back the heavy door and carried his burden into the cell. He set it on the floor in front of the vampire, who was lying on the ledge that served for a bed, basking in rays of sunlight that seemed to come from the ceiling.

"All right, fella. I think you're all taken care of now."

The vampire sat up. His skin was already a little pink. He shuffled over to an ornate full length mirror, and poked the skin around his eyes gingerly.

The Oracle regarded him for a moment. "I can see you'd never get bored of doing that..." He gave a tiny shrug, "...shame." Then he pulled a clip-board from a voluminous pocket in his coat. "So... where was I? Just the two last requests, the sunlight and the mirror. And then we have the obligatory final meal, and we're all ready for the execution."

The vampire turned and looked at the Oracle's offering. It was about five foot six inches tall, and covered from head to toe in a sack, tied loosely at the ankles and neck. He raised an eyebrow at the Oracle. "What is this?"

"Oh!" The Oracle hit his forehead with the palm of one hand, "Sorry! I'm supposed to unwrap it for you. Because you aren't allowed any sharp objects. Powers! I am such a mess today. Too many condemned, too much to do, only eternity to fit it all in, and eternity's not what it used to be... well, you'd know all about that."

He pulled a pen-knife from another pocket and opened out the blade, then sliced through the twine that bound the offering. The sack gave forth a little cloud of dust and fibres as he pulled it away.

As the dust cleared, the vampire saw a familiar figure emerge. A petite, blond girl, with elegant limbs and a delicious waist. A pair of grey eyes blinked at him, and her bottom lip trembled slightly as she took in her surroundings.

The vampire was struck dumb.

The Oracle looked from offering to vampire, and from vampire to offering. Nothing was happening. He groaned and stomped out of the cell, yelling, "Hey! You! Magician in charge of the last meals! Get your ass in here!"

The Oracle came back and, after regarding the pair in the cell for a few moments more, shook his head and made a check on his clipboard.

A small hunched figure, dressed in midnight blue robes and carrying a laptop, appeared in the doorway. "Is there something wrong?"

"You'd better tell me!" The Oracle said, rather snidely. "Here we have cell 426, a condemned vampire. Here's his final meal, one Buffy Summers circa 1997, potential slayer shortly before her call." He waved his clipboard at the Magician, indicating a small box at the bottom of the page. "This is your signature?"

"Yes..." The Magician tapped a few keys on his computer. "We accessed his innermost urges at 0900 this morning. The request was dealt with by 1300 hours (delay being due to a fault in the software) and here she is, one heart's desire." He looked curiously at the pair. "Why hasn't he devoured her yet, or whatever it is they do?"

The Oracle sighed dramatically. "That was going to be my next question. You're sure she's the right girl?"

The Magician peered at the screen of his laptop again, and then made a face at the Oracle. "It all seems in order. Unless..."

"What? Unless what?"

"Well, last week we did get two last meals mixed up. Delivered the virginal Canadian osprey and the chicken wings to the wrong cells... It was messy. We had to clean the walls with flamethrowers in the end and give both demons a pardon and a compensation package."

The Oracle raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Well, we can't have a cock-up like that here. The Powers were very clear on this, they want this particular boil lanced right away. I think he was borderline, and you know how that bothers them." He walked around the girl, who started to shiver slightly and wrapped her arms around herself.

The Oracle reached gingerly over and pinged the strap of her top garment. "Is she dressed right? They're funny people, vampires with souls. All that pent-up emotion and guilt. You put the meal in pink instead of blue and it can all go to hell."

"She's dressed just as he liked her. We only go by what's in his heart."

The girl looked down at her clothes. She was wearing a beige camisole and jeans, white with large reddy-brown splodges. She shivered again and tried to cover herself with her hands.

This seemed to galvanise the vampire into some action. He darted across the room towards the girl, who backed away to the wall and looked at him with round, wide eyes.

"Oh, thank the Powers!" said the Oracle.

The Magician nodded happily. "He was just building up a head of steam. We're going to be OK..."

The words died in his throat as the vampire took off his shirt and wrapped it round the girl's shoulders.

The Oracle turned to the Magician. "Is this some weird vampire thing? Befriend the meal?"

The girl looked down at the shirt, and then at the vampire, who was now naked to the waist. "Um, thanks but... won't you be cold?"

The vampire shook his head.

The girl frowned. "Do we know each other?"

The vampire shook his head again, and then added, "Not yet."

"C'mon, c'mon!" the Oracle interrupted. "You're holding us up here! Making us look bad! Just drink her blood and have done with it!"

They ignored him. The vampire backed away, until the back of his legs hit the ledge, and he sat down, never taking his eyes from the girl. She looked dubiously at the Oracle and the Magician, and then walked quickly past them and sat down by the vampire. He flinched as her arm touched his.

"Are they mad? They keep talking about vampires. Who are they?"

The vampire looked at the floor. "They're in charge of this prison. I'm a condemned man."

The girl's eyes grew wide again. "What did you do?"

The vampire laughed. "It's a long story."

"Why am I here?"

"I don't know. Some sort of torture I think."

The girl grabbed his leg. "I'm going to be tortured? Why? What'd I do?"

He put an arm around her shoulders, "No, no, I'm being tortured. You haven't done anything. I'm... I'm sure they won't hurt you."

The girl tried to hide herself from the gaze of the two men by retreating under the vampire's arm. Meanwhile the Oracle and the Magician edged closer.

"You know," the Oracle smiled sympathetically at the vampire, "She's not real. You do know that?"

The vampire looked up, "She feels pretty real to me."

"It was all in leaflet 3z/B(01)!" The Oracle checked his clipboard. "That we gave you to read last week? In your pre-trial pack? Didn't you read it?" The Oracle shook his head in despair. "The last meals are conjured by our magicians in top-notch, contamination-free, state-of-the-art facilities we lease in Silicon Valley. They aren't real."

The Magician interrupted, "Well, they ARE real, obviously... as in, they're vital and sentient and conscious."

"Oh yeah," the Oracle corrected himself, "I mean, they're real in a thinking, feeling, breathing, flesh-and-blood kind of a way, but that's all!"

The vampire put a hand to his face and pulled the girl closer to his side with his free arm. "If she thinks and feels and breathes, then what do you mean by not real?"

"Well," the Oracle said, "she doesn't have a life."

The girl poked her head up and gave the Oracle a hard stare. "I do! I do so have a life! If you people hadn't stolen my address book I could show you how much life I'm having. I bet I'm not free more than one night a week, unless it's term-time, you know, because of the homework situation. Hey - you guys wouldn't be able to do something about that, would you? Just while I'm here?"

The Oracle and the Magician ignored her. "When you kill her, it has no effect on the real Buffy Summers. This is just... a clone. Based on your perception of her, and the desires you harbour to, you know..."

The vampire growled. "Don't! You'll frighten her!"

The Oracle frowned. "Look, it's *your* inner turmoil, friend. No sense in taking it out on us. We just work here." He turned to the magician. "I give up. You try."

"Would it help," the Magician began, "if we made her bleed a little?" He waved his hand towards the girl. "In the neck area, or..."

"You put that hand near her again and you're going to lose it."

The Magician backed off, joining the Oracle by the door. "Maybe, we should leave them alone for a while. Perhaps he needs his privacy while he ravages. You know, most of us find it difficult to perform with an audience and I don't see why vampires should be any different."

The Oracle nodded his agreement and they turned to leave. The door slammed shut behind them.

The girl came out from behind the vampire's body. "Weirdoes!"

He smiled at her. "Yeah. There are some crazy people around."

She grinned at him, and got up to wander around the cell. "I don't suppose..."

"What?" The vampire watched her as she walked to and fro, the conjured sunlight glinting in her hair.

"You have any food hidden away? I'm just starving."

The vampire shook his head. "No. They... they haven't fed me for several days."

She gaped at him. "Aren't you hungry?"

He smiled and nodded. "Ravenous."

The girl pushed her hands into her trouser pockets, and brought out a short white stick with a ball of fluff on the end. "Aha!" She marched over and offered it to him.

The vampire looked at it, dubiously. "What is it?"

"Oh! Sorry!" She started to pick bits of fluff away and eventually, he could see a glassy red centre. After a few seconds, most of the fluff was gone. She put the end in her mouth and sucked it, then gave it a rub on the thigh of her jeans. It made a sticky red mark. She presented it to him again, and he could see it was some sort of candy.

She smiled at him, "It's OK, I don't have any communicable diseases."

He took it from her and whispered, "Thanks."

She sat cross-legged in front of him and waited for him to eat it. He licked the end, found it tasted mainly of her, and offered it back. She shook her head. "Nah. I had a big lunch. Your need is greater than mine."

The vampire lay back on the ledge, and nibbled at the edge of the lollipop. "Tell me what you had for lunch."

So the girl did, and this lead onto a story about the school canteen, which prompted a description of the gymnasium. When the Oracle returned, she was in the middle of a funny tale about the school play. And the vampire was lying on his side, looking adoringly at her and twirling a short white stick between the thumb and finger of one hand.

"Oh, for pete's sake..." The Oracle came forward and hauled the girl up by one arm.

"Hey! Let me go! I know my rights and this is an infringement of all of 'em. And I haven't got to the funny part yet!"

The Oracle put a hand on one hip and looked sternly at the vampire. "Last chance, buddy... we've got a schedule to keep. Are you going to eat her or not?"

The vampire looked at the girl and shook his head. A sad, shadow of a smile played across his face, and he said, quietly but firmly, "Not."

The ledge that held the vampire suddenly slid into the wall, and he rolled onto the floor at the Oracle's feet. The ledgeless wall disintegrated in a flash of light, and three ghostly, robed figures stood before them.

The Oracle took out his clipboard and his brow wrinkled. "Wait up, wait up. You aren't due a visit from the Powers. What the heck... how is anyone supposed to keep to a system round here..."

The figure at the centre of the trio pointed at the vampire. "We've changed our minds. He's clearly worthy of some clemency. Release him, do the shanshu thing, you know, whatever. Just take care of it."

The Oracle bowed low. "Of course, your eminence, whatever you say."

The figures faded away, and the wall returned. The Oracle turned to the vampire. "Well, there's my lunch hour gone. You lucky bastard."

With a flash, the trio reappeared. "And Oracle?"

"Yes, your eminence?"

"We'd like to see all the paperwork."

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