Humanity

Angel used to like apples. There had been an apple tree in his old backyard, and when he had been a boy, he had practically lived in it. He'd climb up in the branches as far as he could, and he'd spend the day eating all the apples within reach. The next day he'd climb to a different branch, a higher branch, and eat some more.

That tree held a lot of memories. He had kissed his first girl under that tree, with the heady scent of apples hanging thickly in the air. He had spent many days in the shadow of that tree, sleeping the daylight away or just hiding from his father.

As Angelus, he had ruined most of the things that had been a part of his life as a human. But when Angelus left the small village that had been Liam's home, that tree was still standing, unharmed. The memories of apples were left untarnished.

He didn't eat apples anymore. That would be a mockery of his human life. But sometimes, when he smelled that scent that was so familiar, he wanted a taste. It was kind of nice, this hunger. It was good to crave something besides blood.

"Angel, you're freaking me out."

Angel blinked, and his dark eyes refocused. Willow was staring at him from her seat on Giles' desk, a half-eaten Golden Delicious still in her hand. She saw him glance at it once, hungrily, and her forehead wrinkled. She pulled out another apple from her backpack and held it out.

"You want an apple?"

Angel licked his lips. It was a severe act of will to say, "No."

Shrugging, Willow set the uneaten apple down beside her and lifted the other apple to her mouth. His eyes followed her movement.

"You look hungry." She almost made it a question. He had looked hungry, but not, um, bad hungry. And he wasn't looking at the pulse beating in her throat or anything. He was just staring, greedily, as she took another bite out of the

"Angel," Willow said, rolling her eyes.

"Mmm?" Again, he glanced at the apple.

"If you want the apple, just take it."

"I don't—are you throwing that out?" Angel said, sounding outraged.

Willow, her back towards him, allowed herself a tiny grin. She calmed her features and turned with a very convincing quizzical expression on her pointed face. "Yeah, so what?"

"It's a perfectly good apple!"

"So? It's not like you want it." Again, she reached over to throw the apple into the trash can beneath Giles' desk.

"Willow!" he snapped. He sounded practically scandalized, she thought, fighting to keep the grin off her face.

"Angel!" she answered, imitating his tone.

"You can't just throw it out!"

"Why not?"

"Because...because..."

"Come on, Angel," she told him, finally growing impatient of her charade. "Seriously, it's just an apple."

"It's just—I just—" he sighed, and then went on, in a much quieter voice. "I just miss them, that's all." He stared at his hands, a little ashamed of his show of weakness.

Moved by his sad demeanor, she held out the apple core in her hand, "Here."

He stared at it.

Blushing, she pulled out the other, uneaten apple and offered it.

He gave it a long look, then glanced up at her face. Seeing nothing more than simple curiosity in her eyes, he slowly picked up the apple.

And carefully, carefully, he took a small bite.

It tasted good. It tasted familiar. It tasted like it had when he had been human.

For a moment, with solid food in his hand, and the taste of apples in his mouth, he didn't feel like a monster.

And that was why, weeks later, when Angel lost his soul and went out to forget all of his humanity, the first person he went after was Willow.

Apples.