Angelus had a plan for getting through the following day. Namely: stay up late. Sleep in. Get up and "help" Buffy with her homework. Pretend to be gently dismayed when she fesses up to having a date with Riley that evening. Retreat to room, ostensibly to brood but not really, because brooding is exclusively an Angel pastime and they have nothing in common except their appearance and a certain craving for blood.
Angelus followed his routine to the letter, but by early evening he found himself feeling unsettled and restless. He wanted--no, he *needed*--to destroy something. Anything.
He padded downstairs and spied the monstrous bouquet of roses Riley had bought for Buffy. Ah, an item with a connection to Finn: It was just begging for his attention. He impulsively grabbed the flowers up and peeled one petal from a dusky rose. "She loves him." Then another. "She loves him not." Another. "She loves him." Another. "She loves--"
"Angel! What do you think you're doing?" Like an avenging fury, Buffy swept down upon him and snatched away the flowers.
Angelus stood holding the stripped rose and feeling very small but determined to put up a front. "I was removing the dead petals from your bouquet. Riley bought you damaged flowers."
Buffy looked from the fresh, vibrant bouquet in her arms to the deep red flower in Angelus' hand to the perfectly formed petals littering the floor. "I know you're jealous of him, but aren't you taking matters to an extreme?"
"Jealous? Of *Riley*?" Angelus ridiculed. Oh, if Buffy only knew.
She ignored his protest, hearing only what she wanted to hear. "I know you're upset about our date and I'm sorry. It's just...well, you know how it is. You wanted me to move on. Anyway, you don't have to be alone tonight. I'm sure Xander and Willow would be happy to spend time with you. I could call them and--"
Shit! "No, don't!" Angelus snapped, then added in a more subdued tone, "It's okay, I'll be fine on my own. There are a few things I want to do, like call Cordelia and give her an update."
"If you're sure..." Buffy looked uncertain.
"Oh, I'm sure." Being shadowed by the concerned witch and the morose boy would cap off his day perfectly.
"All right, then. I'd better go change. Riley will be here soon." Buffy retreated upstairs with the rescued flowers.
Angelus glared at the lone rose in his hand and plucked off the remaining petals, ending with, "She loves him not." He felt only marginally better.
In actuality, he had no plans for that evening, and absolutely no intention of contacting Cordelia. He couldn't stand the airhead and knew she would only annoy him with boring topics of interest only to her. He'd "accidentally" left his cell phone in Los Angeles just so she'd have a harder time getting in touch with him if she tried. Of course, if she really wanted to find him he knew she would just call Buffy, but so far luck had been on his side.
He paced nervously, watching as Buffy came downstairs all dressed up, as Riley arrived, as the two departed. The only plus was that Buffy looked torn. He was sure she'd have a horrible time.
Finally, Angelus thought of something to do that might settle him down a bit. He'd slept through that afternoon's installment of "Passions," but it didn't matter. Buffy was still taping the show for her mother. He sprawled on the couch, flicked the TV on, and hit rewind on the VCR control to move back to the beginning of the episode. He had to try to pick up more sappy dialogue to use on Buffy. She'd practically eaten it up with a spoon the other day before her conscience had gotten to her.
Angelus tried to focus, but despite his best attempts the show simply couldn't hold his attention. He was going stir crazy, much like he had often felt while trapped inside Angel's body. Maybe the problem was that he was hungry. Unfortunately, he had nothing to drink except the inferior pig's blood Buffy had bought for him. Nevertheless, Angelus decided to suck it up and try some of the stuff.
He snapped off the TV and went into the kitchen. Just as Buffy had reported, three bags of blood held a prominent position inside the refrigerator. Stifling a grimace, Angelus yanked out the foremost one and dumped a portion into a white mug (hoping it would stain), shoved the cup into the microwave, and heated it. Cold, the slop would be unbearable. Boiling, it might be tolerable.
When he judged it was near body temperature, Angelus pulled out the mug, braced himself, and took a huge gulp, which turned out to be a mistake since the pig's blood tasted even shittier than he had remembered. Always before, the taste had been filtered through Angel, and he wasn't prepared for the sheer foulness of it. Angelus gagged and spat the blood out, all over the Slayer's mother's kitchen floor.
The Scourge of Europe spent the next 10 minutes on his hands and knees, cleaning up the disgusting mess. It was what Angel would have done, and Angelus grimly tallied up yet another white mark against his better half.
When he judged he'd done a fairly thorough job, he dumped his sodden rag into the wastebasket and made new plans. Enough was enough. He was going to break his self-imposed rule of not hunting in Sunnydale. He absolutely could not stomach animal blood and he was sick of acting Angel-like, especially when no one was around to give him credit. Even a mighty demon like him had his limits. It was way past time to go out and get someone to eat.
Angelus paused on his way out the door. Was he forgetting anything? Well, he estimated he'd be back before Buffy, so he didn't need to leave a note. Besides, what would he say? "Went out to commit murder, back by 10"? No, he was all set. He had himself.
He slipped outside and slithered downtown to scour the streets of Sunnydale. He wanted to find a young, innocent-looking victim whose blood would taste luxurious to his long-denied senses. Rebecca Lowell hadn't qualified. She hadn't been innocent, and he hadn't made the kill himself. He could do so much better than her.
Angelus made his way to the Bronze and positioned himself across the street from the building. As he lurked, groups of chattering people filtered in and out, but no one particularly caught his eye. Anyway, he had to be wary. He couldn't attack a group because some members would likely escape and possibly be able to identify him. Yet he couldn't attack an individual because so far he hadn't seen any.
Finally, Angelus drifted away in search of less populated areas. After several minutes of careful searching, he located a suitable target: a boy of about 12 who hurried alone along the streets, presumably anxious to get home. Angelus circled in behind him and was pleased when the boy soon turned and darted down an alley, apparently using it as a shortcut.
Angelus trailed him inside, quickening his trot and allowing his demon face to loom forth. Just a few more steps until they would be far enough from the main street for him to safely attack...A loud rattling sounded to his left, and Angelus swore as the startled boy broke into a run and dashed out the far end of the alley. Snarling, Angelus whirled to confront the intruder who had scared away his take-out.
Another vampire, also in game face, growled at him before starting in recognition. "Hey, you're Angel, right? What are you doing back in these parts? Have you returned to the dark side, feeding off of humans?"
It was a remarkably accurate guess, but Angelus couldn't afford to let that news make the rounds. "Of course I'm not evil," he lied. "I have a soul, remember? I was merely making sure that boy got home safely. And it's a good thing I escorted him, or I'm afraid you would most unwisely have tried to make a meal of him. Now, I suggest you haul ass before I stop being generous and end your miserable unlife."
The other vampire scrambled away with gratifying haste, giving Angelus a welcome ego boost until he reminded himself that it hadn't been much of a vampire.
Frustrated and annoyed, he gave up on trying to find a suitable meal in town and drifted toward the cemeteries. With some luck, a human fool or two would have wandered that way and he could feast in privacy.
Angelus had scarcely set foot in Farside Park when he spotted a young adult male sitting at a picnic table, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. It was like an answer to his curses. He stalked forward, approaching striking range, when suddenly a searing pain struck him in the back. He fell to the ground, quivering beneath the onslaught. He felt like he was being electrocuted. Within seconds, the world around him went black.
***
When Angelus again became aware of his surroundings, he was lying flat on his back with a brilliant white light shining into his eyes. He couldn't move, and his head hurt. Not just "bumped-on-a-coffin-lid" hurt, or even "hit-by-an-andiron" hurt, but "a-knife-was-slicing-into-his-brain" hurt.
Voices drifted in and out around him in a whirlwind of noise. The most coherent one said, "He has the stamina of an ox. Put him under again."
Angelus felt another sharp pain and then nothing.
The next he knew, he was still lying on his back, staring up at a light. It wasn't as bright as the last one, though, and he was alone, in a different room. Also, his head merely ached instead of burning with agony.
Angelus tried to move and was relieved to find that he could once more. He gingerly rolled onto his side, testing his limbs for any noticeable damage. He was in decent shape, he decided. Good enough, at least, to dismantle whatever had attacked him.
He wondered what exactly had been done to his head, and performed a brief mental test to make sure he was still himself. He remembered each of the seven deadly sins, he despised Xander and Cordelia, and he was pissed that Angel had killed Darla. Therefore, they couldn't have screwed him up too badly yet, but that probably meant they would return and try to finish the job. But this time, he would be prepared. He only had to figure out where he was, how to escape, who had brought him there, and how to most painfully kill them. Evisceration had quickly become his new favorite word.
***
Three hours later, it still was. Throughout that time, Angelus had paced and studied the walls, the floor, even the ceiling, of his windowless, cell-like, 10x10 prison. He had found no way out. The heavy metal door didn't even have a knob, just a fingerprint scanner mounted to the side. Naturally, his fingerprints didn't pass muster.
Angelus assumed that the Initiative had captured him. Mere days earlier, he had shrugged off Buffy's brief mention of the group, believing if Finn was involved it had to be a minor-league operation. He couldn't believe he had been tricked so easily, especially by a program that employed Riley. It was downright humiliating.
He was still berating himself for his carelessness when the door to his prison began to hiss open. Angelus readied himself to attack, then hesitated when he identified his visitor. It was Riley. Now, Angelus hated Riley more than he hated all the Slayerettes put together, and that was a lot. But he also knew he could probably worm information out of Finn. And surely he could snap the boy's neck like a twig whenever he so chose.
Riley held a finger to his lips. "Be quiet and don't ask any questions. Just come with me. I'll explain things once we're out of here."
He turned and slunk away. Instead of blindly obeying, Angelus weighed his options. He remembered only too well what had happened to him the last time he had failed to think ahead. If he went with Riley, then he stood a chance of escape. True, Finn might be trying to trick him, but since Angelus was already caught there seemed little point to such a ruse. If he stayed where he was, the Initiative people would eventually come back for him. It seemed best to escape and then form a plan to take them down. After all, he was only one vampire--an incredible vampire, it was true, but still only one. Even he couldn't take down the entire project alone, especially without preparation.
So he trailed Riley out of his prison and along a long corridor lined with closed doors. At the end, Finn turned left and squeezed through a narrow opening in the wall. Angelus sucked in his stomach and followed, to find that they were in a sewer. So, the facility was underground, which was actually an excellent choice.
Wordlessly, Riley led the way along a long, convoluted path through the sewers, tracking and backtracking through numerous tunnels. Eventually he climbed up a ladder, pushed open a manhole, and emerged onto a shadowy, deserted street. Angelus followed and judged it was around 11pm. Or, time to get some answers.