It had been a long time since Angel had visited Buffy. When
he heard the ridiculous rumor that Spike had a soul, that
reminded him of how long it had been. Sick of dealing with his
whiny son and his feelings for Cordelia, Angel hopped in his
car and sped off to Sunnydale.

He parked in front of Buffy's house, but no one answered the
door when he knocked. Angel "accidentally" broke the lock and
entered to wait. It was a good opportunity to snoop while no
one was home.

He saw signs of Spike in the living room. A stray black shirt
and a mug with blood in the bottom of it. He went into the
kitchen to continue his search. God, he was hungry. Angel peeked
in the fridge and sure enough, right on the top shelf lay
plenty of spare blood. Angel decided to help himself to it,
knowing he deserved it more than Spike anyway.

He grabbed a bag and began to gulp it down ravenously. As it slid
down his throat, he experienced a strange burning sensation. That
wasn't right. But he couldn't stop himself from drinking. The bag
was nearly gone and Angel kept feeling worse and worse. He sank
to the floor, clutching his stomach. Then he exploded in a big pile
of dust.

Ten minutes later, Buffy and Spike entered the kitchen to find an
open refrigerator door, an empty bag of blood, and a scattering of
dust on the floor.

Spike pointed. "I think that explains why Angel's car is outside
and he's nowhere to be found. He must have drunk the charmed blood
laced with holy water that we were going to set out to trap vampires
tonight."

Buffy shrugged. "Oh, well. That's what he gets for being greedy."
She locked arms with Spike and they exited the kitchen.