Okay, here's the early update I promised. Enjoy!
X. The Cold-Hearted Boy I Used to Be
A week and two days after being cursed with his soul, Angel was feeling restless. He and Buffy had finished patrolling hours ago and Giles was asleep upstairs in his room. He'd been spending a lot more time awake during the day lately than he usually did, but he was still nocturnal by nature, so it was almost impossible to sleep at night. Instead of trying this time, he stole quietly out of Giles's apartment. He didn't really have a particular destination in mind, but he soon found himself standing in front of the mansion. He hesitated. Would they know about his soul? Aside from Dru's clairvoyant abilities, it was also entirely possible that they'd heard he was fighting on Buffy's side from some demon or vampire who had witnessed one of the patrols. If they did know, he doubted he'd get a warm welcome. Still, now that he was already here…he had to see them.
Inside the great room of the mansion, Angel found Spike and Dru passionately making out on the sofa while Penn was draining whatever blood he could still get out of the newly dead corpse of a woman. Darla was nowhere to be seen, but Angel knew she was somewhere nearby. "How many times have I told you to clean up after your meals?" he said coldly to Penn.
Penn's head jerked up from the woman's neck and Spike and Drusilla broke apart. "Angelus!" said Penn, his blood-smeared face splitting into a fanged grin. "Where've you been?"
"We were starting to think the Slayer got you," said Spike, sounding as though he wouldn't have minded too much if she had.
"Nonsense, my dear," said Drusilla. "The Slayer can't kill Daddy." She looked up at Angel and tilted her head to the side. "Nor does she want to."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" said Darla, stepping into the room from the hall. Her tone held the same bite of condescension it almost always had when she spoke to Dru, but her narrowed eyes were fixed on Angel. "Angelus killed the Slayer's boyfriend and the other Slayer in front of her eyes. Why on earth wouldn't she want him dead?"
Dru giggled. "Because she wants him, Grandmum."
"You're seducing the Slayer?" said Darla incredulously.
Angel raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong, Darla? Jealous?"
Penn chuckled. Darla shot him a brief withering look before fixing her icy gaze on Angel again. "What makes you think you'll succeed?"
"She thinks I'm good now," said Angel casually. "She's already invited me into her house. The rest of the plan is on hold until I'm in her bed."
"What, we can't even kill her friends?" said Spike crossly. "You said I could have the redhead."
"All good things to those who wait, Spikey."
†
For the next few days, Angel could think of little but the encounter at the mansion. It had been so easy to slip back into his place with all of them. Only Darla had seemed suspicious, though that might have just been annoyance at the revised plan. Could he really go back? Did he want to? Surely his past wouldn't be able to torment him like this if he embraced it. He wouldn't be reduced to drinking the blood of cattle and swine. He wouldn't be constantly struggling against his nature.
In these vague terms, it seemed like it would be so simple. But that illusion shattered when he forced himself to think of the details. Buffy. To secure his place with them, he would have to carry out all of his old plans for her, and now he would also have to seduce her first. He could not deny that her blood was the most tantalizing of any he had ever smelled, nor that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone, but the thought of deceiving her and hurting her repulsed him. Had her health and happiness really come to mean more to him in under two weeks than the family he'd been with for lifetimes?
Beyond his interest in Buffy, it was also difficult to stomach the idea of doing any of the things he used to do to his victims again, and the thought of forcing himself to do it enough that it would no longer affect him almost made him physically ill. If he remained on Buffy's side, he would never have to do any of that again, and perhaps he would eventually be able to accept the truth of what she and Giles had said: that he was not responsible for what he'd done without a soul and it was unfair to blame himself for any of it when he couldn't possibly have stopped it.
The prospect of living with himself until then, however, was unbearable. And so he'd find himself back at the beginning of that train of thought, and around and around it went.
The title for this chapter is probably my favorite. Looks like our Angel might be slipping a little... And hello, Penn! First time I've ever written him as well.