Chapter 6/9: Misery

The next afternoon, Angelus found himself roused from bed at an undemonly hour of daylight. Not that he had much of a choice; for seemingly ages, Buffy had been making enough noise to wake the undead. If she wasn't blasting music or gabbing on the phone, she was slamming cabinets shut or running back and forth on errands. She'd told him last night that she didn't have any classes today, and now he was wishing she had. All day.

Angelus slowly counted out 10 reasons he couldn't kill Buffy...yet, then made his way into the kitchen, where Buffy simply had to be because that was the main source of the racket. Sure enough, she was sitting at the table writing out a list while she listened to a blaring radio. She looked up as Angelus entered the room and turned off the music. "Hi, Angel. Sleep well?" It was just as well she didn't give him time to answer. "Giles just phoned. None of the prophecies we found last night panned out, but I'll ask around at Willy's tonight and maybe we'll find something to go on there. I'd love it if you'd come with me on patrol tonight. We haven't had much alone time so far."

'Oh, joy,' thought Angelus. He would probably have to kill several of his comrades while accompanying his mortal enemy. The price one paid for pretending to be good. Aloud, he restrained himself to saying, "Sounds like old times."

Buffy beamed. "That's exactly what I thought. I'm really looking forward to it!" She glanced at her list, then jumped up and opened the refrigerator door to rummage inside. "Now, that's strange. My hot sauce is gone, too, along with my taco shells. I could have sworn I still had some left." She sat back down and scribbled another item on the bottom of her list.

Angelus edged away and neatly dropped a paper towel on top of the open wastebasket, hoping Buffy wouldn't check the garbage and find the remnants of her food. The tacos had made a delicious midnight snack, but one that was a little lacking in flavor. Hence, the copious use of hot sauce. He'd have a hard time explaining the theft to Buffy, though. Angel had rarely eaten human food, but that was partly because of his self-imposed martyrdom. Angelus wasn't anywhere near that stupid and self-sacrificing. Buffy had taco shells, he wanted taco shells, he took taco shells and enjoyed every bite. He just wouldn't confess to the Slayer, because she would find his behavior more than a little questionable.

"Good thing I'm going shopping with Xander and Anya," Buffy rambled on. "You know, because they have a car and I, well, I don't. I really need to restock. I hate to leave you alone, Angel, but we arranged this trip last week. You actually got up just in time. They're going to pick me up any minute."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll find something to keep me amused while you're gone." Angelus actually had plans to watch "Passions," but he wasn't about to admit it to Buffy. She'd probably rave about how her mother was a fan of the show and urge him to watch it with Joyce when she came back. Being forced to spend any amount of time with Buffy's mother was torture of an unnatural manner.

The doorbell chimed. "That must be them now!" Buffy grabbed her list and headed to the front of the house, trailed by Angelus. He stayed far to the side as she opened the door to greet her friends. "Hey, Xander, Anya. Right on time."

"You ready to leave?" Xander asked.

Anya peeked through the doorway. "Hi, Angel."

Xander didn't utter a word of greeting, but that was par for the course. The boy had never had much use for Angel--he'd been too envious of the relationship the vampire had quickly established with Buffy. Though why he had ever thought he had a chance with her, Angelus could not fathom. Despite all her shortcomings, the fact remained that Buffy was the Chosen One. Xander was simply a high-school nerd. Even Angel, the pinnacle of vampiric ineptitude, had been far superior to Xander on his best day.

Therefore, Angelus failed to greet Xander but did wave at Anya, so far the only member of the group who didn't make his fangs itch, and watched as Buffy slipped outside. He was pretty pleased that she was taking off. "Passions" was about to start and he was anxious to see what happened.

Angelus settled down on the couch to watch the show and quickly became riveted by that episode's events. In fact, he was so absorbed in watching a climactic scene involving Timmy the doll and a pit of quicksand that he didn't hear footsteps approaching the house. But he definitely noticed when the front door swung open and a flood of sunlight shot toward him through the opening. Utilizing his superior speed and reflexes, Angelus leaped to cover just in time to avoid a severe case of sunburn, and turned to glare at the intruder.

Or rather, the two intruders. One was Willow, while the other was a blonde woman he didn't know. Willow immediately turned and slammed the door. "Angel, I'm so sorry! We came here to see Buffy and since the door was unlocked we figured it was okay to walk on in like we always do."

Which was a pretty crappy apology for nearly setting someone on fire, but it seemed like it was the best he was going to get. "Buffy isn't here." Angelus studied the two women, who had moved to stand close together. They were also holding hands and intertwining fingers. Interesting. Very interesting, indeed.

Noticing his curious look, Willow explained, "This is my friend Tara. Tara, Angel."

Under his steady regard, Tara slowly turned as red as a strawberry and muttered, "N-n-nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Angelus idly wondered what sort of vampire Tara might make. Sometimes the quiet ones really surprised him.

Willow glanced around the room. "Do you know where Buffy is or when she'll be back?"

"She just left for the grocery store with Xander and Anya. They could be a while." Angelus looked back toward the TV set, where Timmy was still struggling in the quicksand.

Willow followed his gaze. "Okay, well, we didn't need to see her about anything important. I'll give her a call later on. Bye, Angel."

Tara murmured something incomprehensible as the couple left, and Angelus resumed watching his show. He probably should have been more welcoming toward two of Buffy's friends, but he was in an even less charitable mood than usual. Luckily, by the time Buffy, Anya, and Xander returned, "Passions" was over and Angelus decided to help unpack the groceries. Some of the stuff Buffy had chosen looked pretty good. Just as he stuffed the last pizza in the freezer, he remembered, "Oh, by the way, Willow and her girlfriend stopped by a while ago."

Anya furrowed her brow. "Willow has a girlfriend?"

"Tara," Angelus elaborated.

"He doesn't mean 'girlfriend,'" Buffy clarified. "He means 'girl *friend*,' as in her 'friend who happens to be female.'"

"No," Angelus said patiently, "I mean girlfriend as in 'lover who happens to be female.' Or if they aren't lovers already, they will be soon. You can tell just by looking at them. The nervous sideways glances, the hand holding, that sort of thing."

Buffy gasped loudly. "Oh, my God, I think you're right!"

Xander's jaw dropped. "She is?"

Anya merely shrugged and looked bored.

Buffy shook herself and attempted to make a recovery. "Um, okay. I guess I'm going to go away and think about this for a little while."

Xander's mouth was still hanging open, and his eyes had glazed over. Anya not so gently whapped him on the arm. "And we are going to go away and I am going to not let Xander think about it, thank you very much." She shot Angelus a dirty look as she pulled Xander away and out of the house.

Alone, Angelus smirked. So, he'd outed Willow to her little friends. Okay, how was he supposed to have known they hadn't already heard the truth, but accident or not, it still counted as a check mark in his column. He honestly didn't see why it should matter who Willow dated, but apparently Buffy had a different outlook. And since the situation bothered her, maybe he could take advantage of her vulnerability. He had been awaiting this prime opportunity since his arrival in town. Angelus loped up the stairs to Buffy's bedroom, ready to make his move.

The door was wide open, and Buffy was perched on the end of her bed, staring into space. Angelus slowly entered and sat beside her, playing it cautiously. It turned out to be the right strategy, because after several seconds of heavy silence Buffy began to speak in a low, sad voice. "You know, I never would guessed Willow is gay. Or bisexual. Or whatever. She didn't say one word about it to me, her best friend. I must have said or done something to make her feel like she couldn't trust me with the truth. I'm such an idiot."

Angelus really couldn't argue with that assessment, so he ignored the comment and rolled out his rehearsed lines. "Buffy, you are the kindest, most generous person I know. I'm sure it isn't your fault that Willow didn't confide in you. Please don't blame yourself."

Buffy sniffed and blinked back tears. "Oh, Angel, that's so sweet of you." She enveloped him in a very strong, very wet hug.

Angelus briefly returned it before he pulled back a bit. Even then, she might have already ruined his favorite shirt, but he gamely pressed on. "I have a confession to make. I only hope you hear me out." Buffy gazed at him, hanging on his every word. Angelus continued, "You have no idea how lonely I was in Los Angeles. I discovered that I can't live without you any longer. Buffy, I love you. I never stopped. You know and I know that we belong together, now and forever. Tell me you still feel the same way. "

Buffy stared up at him with her typical blank expression, the one that meant she either had no idea what he'd just said or he'd stunned her into silence. Either reaction worked for Angelus. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Buffy's, holding back, holding back, holding back... Then just as he had hoped, Buffy took the initiative, deepening the kiss, and Angelus brought his tongue into play as he eased his hand up under her blouse. His plan was working perfectly!

Until Buffy tore her lips away and pushed at his shoulders. "No, Angel, we can't!"

He ignored her and leaned back in, but Buffy turned her head away. Frustrated, Angelus snapped, "What's wrong?"

"You know. You'll lose your soul if we do anything."

Angelus groaned and sat back. Once again, that pesky soul was ruining things for him, even when it wasn't in control. Angelus realized he probably wasn't getting any today, at least not from the Slayer. But he wasn't about to give up quite so easily. He plastered his best approximation of a shamed expression upon his face and nodded. "You're right, Buff. Buffy. I guess I just got carried away. I'm more sorry than words can express."

'Buff.' Angelus winced. How smooth. Like even Buffy wouldn't notice *that* clumsy slip. But it seemed to sail right over her empty head as she babbled on.

"You'd lose your soul, and there's Riley," Buffy added. "I can't do this to him. It wouldn't be fair. I love him."

"But what if I wouldn't lose my soul?" Angelus cleverly suggested. "Think about it--if I know what will happen if I'm ever perfectly happy, that will stop me from being able to feel that way because I'll always have that worry in the back of my mind."

Buffy frowned. While he waited for her to connect the dots, Angelus counted the number of squares on her quilt. He was up to 34 before Buffy spoke.

"Oh! You mean that once you know about the loophole in the curse, it can't hurt you."

"Right. Now you're catching on." 'Finally,' Angelus added to himself.

"But even if you're right, I still can't be with you. I love Riley," Buffy insisted. "I know it must hurt you to hear this, but *you're* the one who left me. You wanted me to move on with my life, and I have. With Riley."

Angelus patted her hand and smiled a thin, pathetic Angel-smile. "I understand, Buffy. I really do. Don't worry about me. I'm more than two centuries old and I can survive a crushing disappointment from the only person I've ever loved in all that time. Your happiness is all that matters to me. Always remember that." He lightly kissed her on the cheek and dragged himself out of the room, shoulders slumped.

The minute he was back in the safety of Joyce's room, Angelus straightened and listened to the sweet sound of Buffy's sobs, each tear a symbol of her mental anguish. He could barely restrain himself from pumping his fist in celebration. Reducing Buffy to misery was like taking blood from a baby: just as easy, and every bit as sweet.