India

"Angel, would you tell me a story?" Buffy asked, her head resting in Angel's lap.

He thought for a second. "About what?"

"You used to travel, right? Tell me about... India."

Angel frowned. "I went to India. Mid-1800s. I'm not sure what to tell you - you don't want to hear what I did there."

She sighed. That was true - she didn't want to know who he had killed, or how. "I..."

He smiled suddenly, bringing Buffy's head up to kiss it. "Tell you what - I'll take you there sometime. We can live a story."

Buffy smiled, too.

Muse

Angel had always been moody. When he was human, he had had a temper, drinking and yelling. Once he was turned, he could go off for days, abandoning Darla (and later Drusilla and Spike) to pout and kill.

When he was cursed with a soul, he became prone to fits of brooding. He would hide away, to sulk and think.

But when he met Buffy, his brooding had toned down. It wasn't wallowing, it was more like musing. Less reflecting on the past, more pondering the future.

He was still Angel - but he had become Angel and Buffy, too.

Wrong

"You're wrong." Buffy laughed as she and Angel tried to ram the enormous Christmas tree through the door. "We can do it."

Angel grinned. "I told you it wouldn't fit."

She stopped for a moment, staring at her boyfriend. "Angel, we are a Slayer and a vampire. We're strong enough to do this."

"Strength has nothing to do with it. If it did, we would've been done an hour ago. The door is physically too small."

"No!" Buffy insisted. "We can do this!"

Finally, she gave up. They could trim it down.

And inside, Angel was waiting with hot chocolate.

Key

When Buffy saw the blood drip from Angel's hand (Angelus's hand. Angel was gone), she knew there was no happy ending, if there ever had been.

His blood was the key to waking Acathla. She faced him, and realized that she would kill him right there.

And even as she saw the gleam Willow's spell had caused as his soul returned, she sensed the slowly opening lock. Angel had to die.

She drove the sword through his stomach so hard that it came out his back, because if she had done any less, she wouldn't have done it at all.

Trap

Xander stepped out of the dungeon, the rest of the Scoobies hoton his heels.

"That was horrible."

Buffy huffed, "Angel told you it was a trap. We were just trying to keep you alive."

"Oh, well, if Deadboy says it-"

Willow cut him off. "He did, Xander. You kind of charged in, guns blazing - metaphorically speaking. You weren't actually armed."

They walked back to the library in silence, until:

"You know, just because you don't like hi, doesn't mean his opinions aren't valid," Buffy snapped.

"Of course not," Xander muttered.

"I happen to value his opinion a lot."

I have enough prompts for six weeks, so I don't need anything else for now. I'm also doing this for a variety of ships, so check around. Updates Thursdays, starting 2/13.
Good? Bad? Heart-wrenching? Tear-jerking? Tell me in a review.