Last time: Angelus captured Riley and prepared to kill him.
******
Angelus' fingers clenched around Riley's throat. Just a little more exertion, and it would all be over... too soon. Far too soon. He eased his grip and allowed the limp body to fall to the ground, alive but unconscious. He wasn't done with Finn yet. Not by a long shot.
He turned his attention to the blue demon Riley had been harassing. Unluckily for that creature, it was awake and aware of its surroundings. With a casual flick of his wrist, Angelus reached over and snapped the thing's neck. No witnesses; that was his mantra.
Except, of course, for his partner-in-crime, Spike, who came trotting up beside him. "Nice work. Where do we take him?"
"To an abandoned lair far away from human hearing. This is going to get loud."
"I know exactly the place." Spike pointed across the graveyard. "About a half mile up that way there's this deserted house. Used to be occupied by a pair of slime demons, but it suits your purposes."
"Sounds good." Angelus heaved up Riley's body and toted it to the building at a quick clip. This was one victim he would dearly love to spend days upon days torturing, but time was a luxury he could not afford. He would have to make the few hours he did have count, in spades.
Upon reaching the old house, Angelus decided that Spike had chosen well. He couldn't sense any humans or other demons within hailing distance. Even the previous occupants of the house had left only a faint trace of their presence.
Amazingly, the electricity was still turned on. Taking advantage of that convenience, Angelus skulked through the ground floor of the house before he settled on the living room as the best station. He threw Riley's carcass on the floor and turned to Spike. "Equipment?" He accepted the duffle bag, unzipped it, and pulled out his supplies: chains, pliers, a hammer, three whips, a dagger, a handful of darts, a pipe, and various other odds and ends.
First things first: It would be most efficient to get Riley hooked up to the wall, the better to torture him. With an ease born of long practice, Angelus secured the chains and then imprisoned his enemy. He had a stationary target. Those were rarely much of a challenge, but they made up for that failing in sheer fun.
Spike approached with the hammer in hand. "Where do you want me to start?"
Angelus snatched away the weapon. "Stay out of it this time. This one is my kill. It's personal."
Spike shrugged. "Fine, I'll just settle back and enjoy the show. Let me know if you change your mind."
He retreated just as Riley began to stir. His eyes flickered open and slowly focused on what must have been the sight of his nightmares: the pissed-off vampire in game face who was waiting to tear him apart. "Angel? Where are we? What are you doing here?" Riley then noticed his chained position. "Oh, shit. I guess I know what you're doing. Well, this is kind of a surprise. I thought you were successfully neutered and out of our hair. Or maybe you still are. Your buddy over there is doing all the dirty work, right?" He nodded toward Spike.
"I'll give you a clue." Angelus sidled over, grabbed Riley's left wrist, and twisted. Not hard enough to break it, but enough to make Riley gasp and bite his lip. "That tell you anything?" He let go and moved back a pace.
"You got the chip out," Riley realized. "How'd that happen?"
"You do remember the disappearance of your dear friend Professor Walsh, don't you?"
"She would never have given you any information, no matter what you did to her."
"Are you so sure of that? One night she disappears, a couple nights later I'm magically unchipped. Makes you think, doesn't it, Finn?"
An expression of doubt flickered over Riley's face. "Whatever she might have told you, I'm sure she didn't give it up easily."
"Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, I'm here, you're here, and things do not look good for one of us. Any guesses who?"
Riley heaved an exasperated breath. "Will you stop implying that I'm dumb? I know you're planning to torture and kill me. I've known for a while that you hate me and you're a vicious, remorseless murderer."
"What, did you forget the soul spiel Buffy must have fed you a hundred times?"
"No, I've never forgotten it. I just never believed it. I knew you were evil all along but Buffy refused to listen to me."
"What can I say? It's obvious who she trusts more." Angelus paused to rub in that fact. "I'd let you live and suffer with that knowledge, except for one small detail. I hate your guts. But that's all right, because soon they'll be all over this floor."
"Buffy will figure things out," Riley shot back. "Once she realizes I'm missing, she won't stop until she traces my death back to you."
"Buffy is blinded by her love for me. She won't realize a thing I don't want her to."
"You're underestimating her. I have faith in her ability to get to the truth. And could you make it any more obvious that you're jealous of what she and I had? That's the real reason you've kidnapped me, isn't it? Because of my relationship with Buffy? My special connection with her?"
As Angelus began to reach for Riley's throat again, Spike's voice sounded from the back of the room. "Can we kill him yet? 'Cause he's really starting to bore me."
"What's with the henchman?" Riley sneered. "Aren't you a big enough demon to take me out all by yourself, Angel? Oh, wait, I forgot. You had to chain me up first. Real brave and confident, huh? I bet you couldn't beat me one-on-one."
Angelus snarled. He knew Riley was taunting him in an attempt to buy a way to escape, but the insulting words did sting his pride. On the spur of the moment, he decided to alter his plans. "Fine. I'll set you loose and we can fight this out. I can spare the 30 seconds that should take."
"What about him?" Riley glanced at Spike. "You have backup even if you lose."
Without taking his eyes from his opponent, Angelus instructed, "Spike, if by some miracle he manages to beat me, let him go. He'll deserve to be free." He cautiously unlocked the chains, watching for any signs of early attack from Riley. However, Finn played it safe, warily eyeing Spike and making no move to pounce before he was fully released.
Angelus backed up and took up a fighting stance. "Ready?"
"Ready." Riley jumped in, delivering the first blow. Angelus was ready for it and parried before striking back himself.
They traded a flurry of punches and kicks, neither one giving out or taking serious damage in the opening series. Angelus had to admit, for someone who had recently suffered a concussion and been choked into unconsciousness, Finn was putting up a pretty good fight. It would require a little more than 30 seconds to take him out. Sixty should be enough.
Tiring of the exercise, he blocked a punch, grabbing Riley's hand in the process. A healthy squeeze resulted in the satisfying sound of crushing bones. Riley dropped back in a defensive posture, his pulverized right hand hanging at his side. Beads of sweat broke out over his forehead.
Angelus shook his head. If he was capable of feeling pity, he might have in that moment. "Why don't you just give up while you're behind, Finn? You know you can't win."
His answer was a wobbly uppercut that Angelus easily dodged. He allowed Riley to expend his waning energy on a few more feeble blows before he struck back with several well-placed hits and ended with the mangling of Riley's left hand. Finished, Riley staggered and dropped to his knees.
"What a shame." Angelus crouched down beside him. "That didn't last long at all. Hey! Spike!" he called. "Get over here. I'm going to give you a crash course in how to make lasting impressions with a riding crop, if you'll get it for me. You didn't do so well with Maggie, as I remember."
Spike handed over the item and raptly watched as Angelus tore off Riley's shirt and tossed it aside. "Hmm. This won't do at all. We need you lying down, Riley." Meeting little resistance, Angelus shoved Riley onto his back. "Now, watch carefully," he instructed Spike. Raising the whip, Angelus brought it whistling down across Riley's chest. "See the angle and amount of force I used? That'll scar. Or, it would if he lived long enough." Angelus demonstrated once more, forcing a pained cry from Riley, before handing the crop to Spike. "You try." He nodded with approval as Spike imitated his actions. "Very good. When you want to do this in the future, you'll have the technique down.
"What next? Oh, yes, the small knife and making gouges." Angelus accepted the weapon and artistically carved a hole in Riley's right shoulder. "Not too deep but not too shallow. Remember, we're aiming for pain and permanent damage here." Ignoring Riley's feeble struggles, he finished carving up the shoulder and then passed the knife to Spike. "You do the other one."
"Like this?" Spike showed off his initial effort.
"Not bad, but a little deeper. Dig it in."
Spike tried again, with noticeable improvement, and slowly but surely finished up his section. "I'm kind of starting to see why you enjoy this torture business so much," he admitted as he surrendered the knife. "Seeing the results of careful work is rewarding."
"Only too true. Well, this has been very enjoyable, but all bad things must come to an end. Get the dagger, will you?" While Spike hunted for that weapon, Angelus hauled Riley to a sitting position on the ragged old couch. "That's better. Are you listening, Riley? I'd love to see you die slowly and painfully. But since that's not feasible, I'll have to do the next best thing--make it quick and painful." He accepted the dagger from Spike and waved it in front of Riley's face before reaching down and slashing open his opponent's stomach with two quick strokes.
With a beautiful gurgling noise, Riley slumped low. Blood was pouring out of him at a fascinating rate, Angelus noted. Which meant his fun was almost over. He might as well get all that he could out of it and make a meal of what was left. He poised his fangs and plunged them into Riley's neck, but after one gulp he pulled back in disgust.
Spike appeared on Riley's other side. "What's wrong?"
"Even his blood is bad. I think he's taking drugs. Taste it and see if I'm right."
Spike took a tentative mouthful, gagged, and spat out the liquid. "Awful. He was on something, all right."
Angelus shrugged. "Doesn't matter now. Riley Finn will be of no importance to anyone ever again." He glanced at his fallen opponent. Riley's lips were moving even as his heartbeat swiftly faded. What could he be saying?
Listening closely, Angelus made out the syllables before Riley's heart gave out. "'Buffy.' Finn's dying word. Isn't that touching." He stood and packed up his supplies, only a few of which had actually been used. He'd allowed Riley to goad him into losing his temper and cutting short the session. Still, he'd achieved his ultimate goal. Finn was dead and out of the way for good. Justice had been served.
*****
With a loud sigh, Buffy slammed shut her extremely boring history book and shoved the thing aside. She simply was not in the mood to study.
A chiding "Shhhh!" from the woman behind the desk reminded her that annoying noises were not welcome in the college library. It had seemed like a good idea to study in a neutral place, since Buffy was still uncomfortable being in the dorm room with Willow. And traveling back and forth to the mansion sucked up valuable study time. But given the fact that she wasn't getting much studying done anyway, she might have been better off going there. At least she'd be in a better mood.
She was just too distracted to pay attention to the dry history facts. So much was going on in her life, most of it bad. The estrangement from her mother and friends, the stress of schoolwork and patrolling, the abduction of Professor Walsh and the attack on Riley, the chip in Angel's head--all of it added up to a hugely problematic life.
As Buffy sat musing, an idea occurred to her. She hadn't received any cooperation from the Initiative in finding a way to remove Angel's chip. But now that Professor Walsh was missing, she might have some bargaining power. It was possible that if she offered her help to them, they would in turn give her a hand. It was worth a try, anyway. Buffy grabbed her books and hurried out the door, determined to at least make the offer.
Buffy struck out for Initiative headquarters, making sure to move openly and keep her empty hands in plain sight. At any minute, she could run into a sentry who was likely to shoot first and ask questions later.
Sure enough, as she drew near the base, a uniformed guard stepped out of hiding and leveled his weapon at her. Buffy immediately stopped, not wanting to be viewed as a threat.
"Hands up!" the guard called. "Where I can see them." As Buffy obeyed, he continued, "Who are you and what's your business here?"
Before she could reply, a familiar voice interjected. "It's all right, Tom. I know her."
The sentry lowered his gun slightly. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah, she's a friend of Finn's and Professor Walsh knows her. I'll vouch for her." The man stepped forward, and Buffy was relieved to see that it was Riley's friend Graham.
"Okay." The guard stepped back as Graham went over to greet Buffy.
He spoke in a low voice. "Hey, Buffy, what are you doing here? Looking for Riley? He isn't here. I told him to rest after getting that concussion, but I think he went out on patrol somewhere anyway."
Buffy nodded. She'd suspected as much. "Maybe you can help me, Graham. I heard about Professor Walsh being kidnapped and I thought I might be able to help find her. I need to talk to whoever's in charge. I think we might be able to make a deal."
"And I'm guessing you won't leave till you talk to someone, right?" Graham glanced around. "I suppose I'd better help you. I can get you into the complex, but I can't guarantee that General Gorman will meet with you, and you have to do what I say and keep quiet when I say. Things are pretty tense around here." After obtaining her agreement, he led Buffy inside, and they boarded the elevator that took them to the main level of the complex.
"I was a little surprised that guard stopped me so quickly outside," Buffy offered as they stepped out of the elevator. "I know I got pretty close, but I almost expected to be able to come right up to the entrance before anyone did anything."
"With Professor Walsh missing, outer security has been tightened," Graham replied. "That's why you won't find so many men inside. Most of them are out on patrol or guarding the perimeter. We're really stepping up the work of bagging and tagging demons, too."
More bad news for Angel. Buffy studied the interior of the complex while trying not to look too obvious. Still, a small group of soldiers down the nearest hallway turned to stare at her.
"Graham," one of them called. "What's going on?" He shot Buffy a decidedly hostile look.
"Business," Graham replied briefly, ushering Buffy away.
As they walked, Buffy continued to both sense and see unfriendly stares directed at her. "What's going on? Why are they looking at me like that?"
"Buffy, you really can't blame them. We all know about your friendship or whatever it is with one of our chipped vampires. It's like you're consorting with the enemy, you know?"
"But Angel isn't the enemy. He has a soul and he would never hurt anyone."
Graham sighed. "I'm sure you believe that, but it's hard to ask any of us to buy that story. We've all seen what vampires do, and it isn't pretty. Add that to the fact that we're worried about what's happened to Professor Walsh, and things are even worse. If something can happen to her, it can happen to any of us."
"You don't have any leads?" Buffy probed. "Any evidence at all? A ransom note?"
"Not a clue. All we have is Riley, since he was with the professor at the time of the attack. Only problem is, he was unconscious during the whole thing. We're working on trying to find out who left him on that stranger's doorstep and why, but so far we haven't come up with anything useful." Graham paused, then led Buffy down a deserted hallway to a small, dark room. "I think it's best if you stay away from the others, so you should wait here. I don't think anyone will come this way at this time of night. I'll go see if I can talk to General Gorman, but I have to warn you, I don't think there's a very good chance he'll meet with you. Anyway, I'll try not to take too long."
After Graham exited, Buffy sat down in the lone chair in the cramped room. Then she waited. And waited. And waited. Still no sign of Graham. Then it struck her--she had the perfect opportunity to explore the place on her own. She'd been suspicious of the Initiative's activities for a while, and she might never get a better chance to uncover some of their secrets.
Listening intently for signs of Graham's return, Buffy crept out of the room and down the hall. The first two rooms she came to contained nothing of interest. The door of the third room, though, was labeled "Records." Buffy hesitated. She might find important material inside. On the other hand, if she got caught snooping, the odds of her obtaining the Initiative's help would plummet. Of course, those odds weren't too good to begin with. She decided to take a chance; if the door was unlocked, she'd take a look around inside. If it was locked, she'd forget about it.
Cautiously, Buffy tested the doorknob. Unlocked. She eased the door open and sidled into the room, feeling for the light switch as she went. Illuminated, the room proved to contain numerous filing cabinets and stacks of folders. Which brought up the question of where to begin looking. Finally, Buffy just grabbed a folder from the nearest pile and flipped through it. The papers inside meant nothing to her, being full of abbreviations and jargon Buffy didn't come close to understanding. She gave up on that file and moved on to the next one. More gibberish, a diagram, nonsense. Next folder. More of the same. The next finally contained some text written in plain English, but it merely concerned office supplies.
About to give up and retreat, Buffy snatched up one last folder and skimmed the contents. As she read, her eyes widened in horror. "...program...destroy chipped demons...total annihilation...torture...new equipment..." The paper was dated three days ago. She had to find out what exactly the Initiative was planning. Buffy reached over to flip the page, when her ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. Graham must be coming back! Automatically bringing the folder with her, Buffy darted out of the records office and sped back down the hall toward the room where Graham had left her. Just as she was about to turn the corner, she remembered the file in her hand and paused to tuck it under her jacket. Then she made her way forward again and had her hand of the doorknob of the room when Graham appeared.
"Buffy, why aren't you waiting inside?"
Feeling the folder slip against her side, Buffy pinned it into place with her elbow while attempting to look casual. "You were gone for a while, so I decided to look for you to see if everything was all right."
"You could have gotten lost. I'm glad you didn't get too far. Anyway, I talked to General Gorman."
"And?"
"I'm sorry, Buffy." Graham looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. "He's really busy and he doesn't have time to talk to you."
"In other words, he told you to get rid of me."
"I wouldn't use that exact phrasing, but you got the gist of it."
It was pretty much the reaction Buffy had expected, so she let Graham off the hook. "It's all right. Thanks for trying, anyway."
"Yeah." Looking uncomfortable, Graham finally blurted, "Look, you didn't hear this from me, but I think you should know. Professor Walsh never had any intention of helping you or your vampire friend. As far as she's concerned, the only good demon is a dead demon, and the only useful one is one she's experimented on. General Gorman has the same attitude."
Buffy nodded. "That's pretty much what I expected, but I had to try. Thanks for telling me."
"You're welcome. Now, let me get you out of here."
Buffy didn't know Graham well enough to be able to tell if he was regarding her suspiciously, so she played dumb and obediently trailed him back over to the elevators and out of the complex. She was taking a major risk, hoping the Initiative wouldn't realize too soon that the folder was missing or that she had taken it, but she needed to examine the information more closely. Lost in thought, she nearly walked into Graham's back when he stopped outside.
"This is as far as I can go. I'm still on duty."
"I'll be fine," Buffy assured him.
"Good. Well, I hope things work out for you, Buffy."
"Thanks, and good luck with finding Professor Walsh." More than ready to make an escape, Buffy edged away.
"Bye," Graham called.
Buffy waved with her free arm and left, acutely aware of Graham's eyes on her back. She didn't dare reach over to secure the folder until she was sure she was out of range. Praying it wouldn't fall out at an inopportune moment, Buffy continued to move at a steady pace. She had to look over that information and share it with Angel.
The following morning, Angelus was still riding a natural high in the aftermath of Riley's extremely satisfying death scene. He hadn't enjoyed a kill so much in at least two centuries, and quite possibly ever. As a bonus, Riley had died in a vain attempt to protect Buffy, which made him even more pathetically noble. Too bad Buffy hadn't been able to witness the carnage, but she would learn of it sooner or later. Sooner, if Angelus had his way. He'd finally fulfilled two of his primary goals: the dechipping and slaughtering Riley like a pig. That left offing the Initiative, and thinning out Buffy's herd of friends. They might be estranged friends, but they were still friends. Of course, by the time Angelus was finished, she wouldn't have any left.
Naturally, thoughts of eliminating the Scoobies led to the consideration of who should be first on his list. Xander immediately sprang to mind. He was definitely the most irritating of the lot. Then again, he wasn't much of a threat, either mentally or physically. Leaving him till near the end wouldn't pose any sort of risk. Best to take out a more formidable opponent first, and also one whose death would devastate Buffy. Therefore, Angelus ruled out Anya and Tara, who weren't particularly good friends of Buffy's. That left Willow and Giles. Either would provide an excellent starting point. Willow was Buffy's best friend, she was dabbling in magic, she had restored Angel's soul, and she was clearly deserving of the top honor. Then again, so was Giles. He was like a surrogate father to Buffy, he was highly intelligent, he was skilled in many different areas, and he had deep resources he could draw upon in a battle situation.
Willow or Giles? Giles or Willow? Either way he went, Buffy would end up blaming herself for the death. Angelus mused over his beautiful dilemma and eventually decided: Giles first. He posed a more substantial threat than Willow and should be the primary target. After he was gone, Angelus could pick off the rest of the group at his leisure. Buffy would never suspect him until it was too late.
With that important matter decided, Angelus lay back on the couch and relaxed. He really ought to get some sleep while he could, especially since he could take advantage of Spike's brief absence. The peroxide nuisance had left for Los Angeles for a couple of days, partly for a change of pace and partly because the less time he spent in Sunnydale, the less chance he had of being seen and identified. In the relative peace, Angelus closed his eyes and attempted to lull himself to sleep by replaying the wonderful images of Riley's last moments.
It probably would have worked, too, if a pounding on his front door hadn't jarred Angelus and nearly made him fall off the couch. He swore as he recognized Buffy's knocking, which was accompanied by her voice calling Angel's name. The fact that she had come over in the morning of a day on which she had a big test was disturbing. It could easily mean something had gone wrong with his plan. Quickly, Angelus got up and unlocked the front door, standing back from the stream of sunlight that entered the mansion with his visitor.
Putting on his most concerned "Angel" voice, he asked, "Buffy, what are you doing here now? Aren't you supposed to be taking a test today?"
She answered in a distracted manner as she clutched a handful of papers. "The test isn't till this afternoon, and this is more important than cramming. Angel, I've found out something really disturbing that I never would have predicted. We need to talk right away."
Those words were the ones he had feared. Had Buffy somehow figured out his secret? Or did she know about Professor Walsh, Spike, Riley? Any or all of the above? "I'm sure whatever it is can't be too serious. Calm down and I'll answer any questions you have. We can sort things out together." Refusing to panic, Angelus led Buffy over to the sofa and made her settle down before she started to speak again.
Relaxing her grip on the crumpled papers, Buffy smoothed them and began her story. "I was in the library last night trying to study, and I just couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was you and the chip and Professor Walsh and the Initiative situation. Remember, I told you before that from the beginning, I had some doubts about the Initiative--their purpose and their techniques. After they captured you and the whole chip thing happened, that proved I couldn't trust them. Killing demons upfront is one thing, but torturing and experimenting on them is in a way different league. Plus, if they were really on my side, they would have helped you and instead, they wouldn't even listen to me. Still, last night I decided to give them one last chance. I went over there to talk to the person who's in charge now about maybe making some sort of deal where I'd try to find information about Professor Walsh in exchange for you getting dechipped. Riley's friend Graham helped me get inside the complex but then General Gorman wouldn't see me. But things kind of worked out, because while I was alone, I found some information about the Initiative's plans to torture and then destroy all chipped demons. A whole folder of stuff." She indicated the papers, which Angelus took and scanned.
Buffy had brought over quite an impressive array of information about the Initiative, including diagrams, floor plans, and a timetable detailing their intentions. Even at first glance, it looked like a sure treasure trove. "Very helpful," Angelus praised. "Do they know you have this file?"
"I hope not. I managed to get out of the complex without anyone stopping me and no one has come after me yet. Plus, this stuff is all photocopies, so maybe they're working off of another set of copies and won't even realize this one is missing for a while yet. Until afterwards."
"After what?"
"After...." Buffy stopped. "You know what I mean. Don't you? You must see what we have to do. If we don't, they'll use their new tracking equipment to hunt you down and you'll be killed along with the other demons."
Angelus knew what *he* wanted to do, but he was pretty sure Buffy was thinking on a far less grand scale. "Why don't you tell me what you have in mind, to make sure we're on the same page?"
She didn't hesitate. "We have to stop them. We have to take the Initiative down before it's too late."
Despite himself, Angelus was impressed. Buffy was thinking like a demon, and he could appreciate that. It looked like he had an unexpected ally in his quest to destroy his enemies. Ruining the Initiative was the next step in his plan. After that little problem was out of the way, he'd move on to Buffy's band of friends.
"I don't get it," Buffy repeated as she paced the length of the living room. "Why would someone kidnap Riley and Professor Walsh, let Riley go, and then kidnap him again?"
It took a real effort, but Angelus restrained himself from snarling. He was getting pretty pissed off at Buffy's obsession with finding out where Riley was. Ever since she had figured out he was missing, she had spoken of little else: where could Riley be, who had taken him, was he all right, was she doing enough to find him, and still more babble.
"Worried about Riley, are you?" Angelus snapped, his anger getting the better of him.
As if she had just remembered he was in the room, Buffy turned around to face him. "Are you jealous? You shouldn't be. You know how it was with us. Riley was a nice guy, most of the time, but he wasn't *you*. I'd be concerned about any missing person, no matter who it was. It's just more disturbing because it's someone I know so well. And I can't help wondering what exactly it means. I do have a theory that might explain things, though. Whoever is behind all of this only wanted Professor Walsh in the first place but she was with Riley at the time, so they both got taken. Then the kidnappers let Riley go. But they must have thought he could identify them or he had some information they needed so they went back for him. It makes sense."
'And truth is definitely stranger than fiction,' thought Angelus. 'Ah, if Buffy only knew.' Luckily, she hadn't yet made the all-important connection between his plotting and the abductions. Not that she hadn't been investigating the latter, but despite her probing, it seemed no one had any useful information to dole out. Not surprising, considering that so far it had been a two-vampire operation and neither Spike nor Angelus had shared with outsiders. Angelus knew he could count on himself to continue to remain silent, but he wasn't so sure about Spike. Bragging had been the downfall of many a powerful vamp in the past, and that mistake could prove to be Spike's undoing, too. Not that Angelus cared so much about his partner's inevitable downfall, but he didn't want to be dragged down along with him. He just had to hope that his frequent lectures had sunk in and Spike would keep his trap shut for a while longer. Seeing that the other vampire had remained out of contact for the past few days and was presumably still out of town, lying low, Angelus felt reasonably confident for the time being.
Having talked out her theory, Buffy returned to looking distracted. "Maybe I ought to go question Willy again and talk to his customers too. *Someone's* got to know something about a witness, a rumor, a blood trail, anything strange or suspicious. Even a hint of it."
"You've already talked to Willy and he didn't know a thing," Angelus reminded Buffy, determined to keep her from paying a return visit to the bar. He didn't truly consider that puny human to be a significant threat, but one never knew; Willy had a way of ferreting out tidbits and clues he sometimes shared for the right price. Or the right threat, as the case might be. Just to be safe, Angelus had to keep Buffy close by if possible.
Not being privy to his thoughts, however, Buffy had begun to look at the door as if she pictured herself departing through it at any second. "Willy could have been lying, or he might have heard something since I was there."
"Calm down, Buffy." Angelus knew a sure way to keep her from leaving: Lay on a guilt trip. "We have a lot to do and you can't be in two places at once. Here it is, Friday afternoon already, and we still don't have a firm plan to take on the Initiative."
"You're right." Buffy looked properly ashamed of herself, gazing at the floor and slowly turning red. "Your life is in danger and saving you ought to be my top priority." To Angelus' great relief, Buffy shut up about returning to Willy's and immediately settled down on the couch next to him, where she set herself to work deciphering the Initiative information.
As she flicked through page after page, Angelus stared at her exposed neck. The expanse of tender flesh reminded him of how hungry he was. He hadn't been hunting in more than 36 hours, he would have a hard time doing so with Buffy around, and he was starving. The lack of fresh human blood in the refrigerator didn't help matters. Biting Buffy was beginning to seem like almost a logical move. It was her fault that he was malnourished, she was the nearest target, and she looked so convenient.
Torn, Angelus hesitated as two sides of his brain fought a battle. 'Bite her! Bite her!' instinct and decades of conditioning screamed at him. Even as Angelus' fangs began to elongate, though, the more rational side of his brain was ordering him to stop. After all, if he offed Buffy now, the payoff wouldn't be nearly enough. He would miss out on her anguish over the upcoming deaths of her pathetic, worthless friends.
No, he couldn't do it. He'd be tipping his hand way too early. Angelus began to pull his fangs back, then reconsidered. Surely a small nip wouldn't hurt things too badly? He deserved a little reward for his hard work and scheming, didn't he? It was too much to expect him not to look gift blood in the mouth. After all those years of that blasted *soul* cramping his style, he had to make up a lot of ground. Try as he might, he could never forget the refrain of that wet-blanket conscience: 'Can't kill this, can't kill that, must help this, must help that.' Spurred on by those horrid memories, the "bite" side was winning out.
Until Buffy pushed a stack of papers in his direction. "Angel? Look through these and tell me what you think?"
Returning to his senses, Angelus reverted to his human mask before Buffy could look at him. He'd almost committed a huge mistake because his willpower had ebbed low. He shouldn't even be considering the possibility of drinking from Buffy again until it came time to drain her once and for all. Taking "snacks" twice recently had evidently been a mistake; it just made him want to steal more of her blood, which was an incredibly dangerous proposition. He needed to stay focused.
Grabbing up the papers, Angelus forced himself to get to work. Based on the information in the stolen Initiative folder, he and Buffy had already agreed that the time to make their move was over the weekend, before the Initiative could begin to launch its next big anti-demon strike as outlined in their plans. Of course, Angelus knew that being newly chipless he was safe from the Initiative's actions, but Buffy had no clue. Therefore, she was sure to be curious, even suspicious, if all around town other demons dropped like flies while he remained impervious. It simply wouldn't do for Buffy to outwit him and unroot his scheme before he wanted her to. Besides, he was holding a major grudge against those Initiative bastards and he wanted them to pay. Pretending to read, Angelus fantasized about slaughtering the soldiers and doctors and painting the walls with their blood.
Those thoughts cheered him so much that he was able to fully concentrate on Buffy when she had finished skimming her share of the papers. Assuming he was also done, Buffy bit her lip and then began, "I have an idea, Angel. You might not like it, but hear me out." She pointed to a small stack of papers topped off by a blue diagram. "That stuff is all about the Initiative's computer system. I don't have the first clue how to get in and disable it, but I bet *Willow* would. Now, I think it's time to go to the gang. This is a huge operation and it'll be tough for us to take it down without help. We need my friends. Together, we'll stand a much better chance."
Working together, however, meant Giles' involvement, and all of Angelus' senses were screaming *danger*. While he didn't precisely *fear* the Watcher, he did respect him and was far from eager to work closely with the man. Which meant he had to blast a hole in Buffy's idea. "We can't be at all sure your friends will even speak to us," Angelus slyly pointed out, forcibly reminding Buffy of their estrangement. "They haven't exactly been pleasant lately, so why would that change now? Especially if they'd have to work with me. Xander's never liked me, Giles is still holding a grudge, Anya and Tara don't seem to particularly care one way or the other, and Willow is making her disapproval clear by treating you like a stranger in your own dorm room. Of course, it's all because of me and it's not like I blame any of them. I deserve that treatment. But you don't. I just think you should face the facts. Even if they could help us, they won't want to. In fact, I'm sure Giles, in particular, would try to stop us."
Brow furrowed, Buffy took a few minutes to consider those words. "You're probably right about Giles. Talking him around to our point of view would be tough. But we can't pull off this entire operation on our own. It's way too big. We need help to disable the Initiative computer system. We need someone like Willow."
Damn. When Buffy was right, she was right. The Initiative plan hinged on a complicated-looking computer program that Angelus had no clue how to bring down. Well, he might as well take advantage of her friends and use them while he still could. "How likely is it that Willow will be willing to pitch in?"
"She isn't unsympathetic to us right now. It's more that the others are and she's following the path of least resistance, plus she believes it's all for my own good. But she definitely wouldn't want you to die or be hurt if she could prevent it. You know Willow--she's got a soft heart." Buffy indicated the scattered papers. "If I can get her alone and show her all this stuff, I'm pretty sure she'll help out."
"Fine," Angelus decided. "I trust your judgement, Buffy. Talk to Willow and get her on our side." And if Willow happened to figure out his secret along the way, he'd just conveniently skip ahead in the order and eat her next. The very thought brought a smile to his lips that Buffy naturally assumed was meant for her.
Angel had volunteered to patrol for Buffy while she reviewed the Initiative papers and called Willow to ask for her help. After all, someone had to make at least an occasional quick sweep to keep the undead population under control, and Buffy had certainly been slacking off lately. It was a wonder the demons hadn't already taken advantage of her negligence and stormed the town. Thinking about it, maybe the reason they hadn't was because the Initiative had been taking them out in her absence. Buffy had to admit, if she was correct, the organization wasn't all bad. But she hadn't changed her overall opinion. Their actions toward the chipped demons crossed a line that appalled her.
Shuffling the papers back into a reasonable semblance of order, Buffy wondered when Angel would get back. She checked her watch and guessed that he should return at any minute. She hoped he beat Willow so they could face her as a team. Together, they would probably be more convincing than they were apart. Once Willow heard the full story, she wouldn't be able to look Angel in the face and refuse to save him. She'd already agreed to come over and meet with them, which was a very positive sign.
As she replaced the folder on the coffee table, Buffy heard the sound of the door opening and turned around. Like she had expected (Willow would have knocked), Angel was back. "How'd things go?" Buffy greeted him as she approached. "Was it busy, or --" She stopped and looked more closely at Angel. "You have blood on your collar. Are you hurt?"
He stepped away from her. "Must have come from a skirmish I had with another vampire. He put up a bit of a fight before I could stake him."
Buffy anxiously studied him as he removed his coat and settled down on the couch. He was moving smoothly and seemed to be all right, as he'd claimed. "Just one vampire? I thought there might be a lot since I haven't been out much lately."
"Three," Angel elaborated. "Two were fledglings. Easy kills. The third was the only one to put up much of a fight. But I handled it pretty quickly."
"All right." Buffy joined him on the couch. "Well, good news. I called Willow and she's on her way over. She promised she won't tell anyone, either. I told her I wanted to talk about something personal I didn't want the others to know about. Which is true, more or less. Anyway, the point is that no one else will be tagging along to complicate things. The only person we'll have to deal with is Willow."
"Good." Angel edged a bit closer to her. "We have a while before she gets here, don't we?"
"A little, I guess. I'm not sure how much exactly. I called a few minutes after you went out, so it depends on if Willow left right away or not. I'm glad you got here first. We should try to think of a good way to get through to her."
"Hmm." Angel moved even closer, so he was pressed against Buffy. "You know, Willow probably won't turn up for at least another half hour. Do you want to waste all that time talking?"
"We won't be wasting it. Willow might take some convincing and I don't want to fail just because we didn't say the right thing."
"You won't fail. I have every confidence in your ability to get through to her." At the end of this very short speech, Angel turned and pinned Buffy against the couch, nuzzling her neck.
"Angel." She turned her head, expecting him to get the hint, but he didn't back off. "Stop it, Angel." Buffy nudged him back, beginning to get a little annoyed. Why was he being so persistent? When she felt the tip of a fang graze her neck, she stopped being nice about it and shoved hard at his shoulders. "Angel, what do you think you're doing?" The force of her push was enough to move him back and allow her to squirm away to her feet, where she put a little distance between them.
Angel had switched back to his human appearance, which he usually wore around her. The fact that he had gone into demon face in the first place was strange and a little disturbing. Which meant something was wrong. She just had to figure out what.
Lying back on the couch, making no attempt to pursue her, Angel merely looked up innocently. "What's wrong?"
Yes, he was definitely acting very strangely. And then it struck Buffy--the reason behind his odd behavior. She was amazed she hadn't realized it before. "Angel, I know what's going on."
"You do?"
"Yes. It took some time, but I finally figured it out. You're scared, aren't you?"
"Scared?" he repeated in a startled tone.
Gaining confidence in her theory, Buffy went on, "Yes, and it's perfectly understandable. You're being threatened by people who are judging you by *what* you are, not *who* you are, and they won't listen to reason. It isn't right, so of course you're frustrated and scared. I am, too. But we're working out the solution and it'll be all right." A rapping on the front door sounded before Angel could reply to her speech. "That'll be Willow. Told you she'd be right over." Hoping the presence of her friend would help, Buffy hurried to answer the door.
As promised, Willow had come alone. She listened as Buffy explained the situation, reacting strongly to the idea of the Initiative striking out against the chipped demons and shooting Angel a sympathetic look.
Finished with the narrative, Buffy handed over the folder and made special note of certain pages as she explained their significance to Willow. "So you see why we need your help," she concluded. "We do have it, right?"
Willow looked at her and Angel, hesitated, then nodded. "I can't let something like this happen without trying to stop it. And you have a lot of detailed information here. Based on this, I'm pretty sure I can infiltrate the Initiative's computer system."
"That's great!"
"But," Willow pointed out, "I'll need a computer to do it and you don't have one here."
"Oh. That's bad." She should have thought of that problem before, Buffy realized. Naturally, Angel didn't have a computer around the place. He didn't even have a regular telephone--just that cell phone he barely knew how to use. "So what does that mean?"
"I'll have to do the work somewhere else. Are you *sure* you don't want Giles to know about any of this?"
Buffy glanced at Angel. "Perfectly sure. I don't want to risk the possibility of him disapproving and trying to stop us."
"I see your point. All right, I won't mention it to him and we'll see how things go. I'll call you with a status report as soon as I can."
"Here." Buffy wrote down Angel's cell-phone number and handed the paper to Willow. "Use this number to get in touch with Angel. If I'm not at the dorm, I'll probably be here with him."
"Right." Willow tucked the number away and headed for the door with her share of the papers. "I guess I'll call you, then."
"Thanks, Willow." Buffy waited until her friend was gone, then turned to speak to Angel.
He was gone.
As Buffy and Willow droned on about their distressingly non-hands-on Initiative strike, Angelus tuned them out and thought of his own scheme. It would be ideal if he could simply station himself outside the complex and slaughter the soldiers as they came out. But the logistics would require too much work, in all likelihood.
Reluctantly shelving the idea, Angelus started as he heard a scraping noise that came from the back of the house. He glanced at Buffy and Willow, but they were still talking and apparently hadn't heard a thing. He strained his ears, listening intently, and caught the sound again. It could be an animal or something equally harmless. Or it might be an intruder.
Not wanting to get Buffy involved, Angelus stole out of the room and made his way to near the back door, where he halted. He didn't hear anything more and decided to take a calculated risk by stepping outside. A quick look at the ground confirmed his theory; a telltale cigarette butt lay there. The intruder was just Spike. Relaxing, Angelus glanced around and spotted a flicker of light to his left as Spike approached with a lit cigarette in his hand.
"About time you came out," Spike complained in a low voice. "You weren't in the house when I got here and it took you long enough to hear me. Where were you before?"
Certain that Buffy was nowhere close, Angelus decided to take a few minutes to exchange information with Spike. "I wanted to go out and get someone to eat but I could hardly tell Buffy that, now could I? Instead I offered to patrol for her, thereby earning brownie points while giving myself a cover story. So while I was out snacking on a McDonald's night manager, Buffy thought I was doing her job for her. She'll never know the difference. What's one human more or less?"
"Two," Spike corrected him, licking his lips. As Angelus glared at him, he defended himself. "What? You're not living off of bagged blood anymore, so why should I?"
"To help keep a low profile? I'm not using the bagged stuff because it's beneath my dignity now that I have my fangs back. You, on the other hand, have no dignity, and besides that, you can't afford to be spotted."
Ignoring the jibe, Spike nodded toward the mansion. "What exactly's going on in there? Heard the Slayer and her little friend gabbing, but what's the point of it all?"
"Buffy is earning her keep. She stole some information from the Initiative and she's trying to rope Willow into taking down their computer system."
Spike exhaled a long stream of smoke before replying. "*That's* your grand scheme?"
"From your tone, I take it you aren't very enthusiastic."
"You're not gonna like to hear this."
"When has that ever stopped you?"
"But I'm going to say it anyway," Spike went on. "If you're just going to quietly go along with that plan, there's no doubt about it, you *have* gone soft. This isn't what I signed on for. You promised me action--death and destruction. You haven't delivered much so far and at this rate, the future doesn't look promising."
Pulling back from his original impulse to order Spike to simply shut up and follow any orders he cared to give, Angelus weighed his answer before replying. "I understand that it might seem that way to you, Spike. However, you lack the vision of, say, *me*. I can both comprehend and acknowledge that this method, while lacking artistry, is a significant means of revenge. I'm perfectly willing to leave it to Buffy and Willow. Sometimes, even the worst of us needs a little help. I don't know how to infiltrate the computers myself, and besides, think of the emotional damage Buffy and Willow will suffer when they realize they were helping me instead of Angel. Also, I'm thinking we can use their attack on the Initiative to our advantage, if the timetable works out."
Spike flicked away his cigarette butt and reached into his pocket for the pack. Before he could grab a fresh cigarette, Angelus cuffed his hand away. "I've told you before--don't smoke around here if you aren't going to pick up after yourself. The last thing I need is for Buffy to find those cigarette butts and start wondering why they're here."
Spike scowled but dropped his hand to his side. "I wouldn't need to hide them if you took up smoking yourself. Then Buffy would just think they were yours."
"Oh, like *that* wouldn't make her suspicious. Anyway, I have a better idea: *You* can quit."
Grumbling, Spike ignored him and snatched the telltale butts from the ground. "There. Satisfied?"
Angelus nodded. "Now, I have an idea. Go steal a cell phone and call me to leave your number. We need to keep in touch, and it's too dangerous for you to lurk around here while Buffy's staying. Sooner or later, our luck is bound to run out and she'll spot you." He'd have to be careful to monitor the phone, of course. It wouldn't do to have Buffy answer it if Spike tried to reach him. On that note, Angelus realized that Spike hadn't yet filled him in on recent activities. "By the way, where exactly were you these past few days?"
"Here and there. Nowhere important. Except for one place. I went to Los Angeles to see how things were going, give you a status report." Spike smiled. "Sad. Very sad. Well, actually, I guess that depends on your point of view. Those humans you left behind have pretty much succeeded in running your business into the ground."
"It was never *my* business. It was a do-gooder's enterprise, which clearly marked it as Angel's brainstorm. He didn't even have the nerve to charge his clients. More proof of how pathetic and weak that miserable excuse for a vampire was." Angelus shook his head; he never failed to marvel at Angel's inadequacies. "So, did you see either of them? Cordelia or Wesley?"
"No sign of Wesley, but Cordelia was moping around and she looked like she was in a pretty bad mood."
"Business as usual, then," Angelus noted. "She used to look like that most of the time. Probably because her so-called acting career landed in the toilet almost before it began. She was terrible. Anyone who hired her would have to be rock-bottom desperate, let me tell you. Cordelia is the world's worst actress. And I should know, being the best actor."
Spike shrugged. "Yeah, well, I was thinking of doing you a favor and killing her."
A bolt of alarm shot through Angelus. "You didn't do it, did you?"
"Why? Would you have minded? You hate the bint, right?"
"Of course I do. I hate everyone, but naturally, Cordelia holds a very special place on my list. But she must be allowed to live for at least a while longer, because if she dies and Buffy gets wind of it, she might begin to investigate and catch on to the fact that every recent catastrophe or misunderstanding has me at its root. From there, she might even piece together the truth. It's too soon to take out Cordelia. Besides, when the time does come, you won't get to do the honors. I will."
"Let me get this straight: You're planning to take out the Slayer, and her Watcher, and her friends, and Cordelia, plus you already got Finn. What I'm wondering is, what do *I* get, aside from the stray Initiative soldier or random idiot who goes out alone at night?"
Angelus paused. He really hadn't given Spike's situation much consideration lately. "I might let you have Buffy's mother," he finally conceded with more than a bit of reluctance--he'd kind of wanted to save Joyce for himself, too. Then again, Spike did deserve an occasional crumb. "That is, unless her hot chocolate with little marshmallows won you over to her side?"
"Will you lay off about the hot chocolate?" Spike snapped. "I mean, you drink it once and no one'll ever let you forget about it."
Spike had a point, so Angelus backed off. "Sorry, my mistake. Do I take it, then, that you have no objections to offing Joyce?"
"None at all," Spike replied, his eyes beginning to glow in anticipation. "In fact, I'll be glad to do it. I think she likes me, and the last thing I need is someone giving me a good name."
"Only too true," Angelus agreed. "Speaking from experience, that is absolutely no fun." He shivered at the horrible memories and then checked his watch. "Well, I can't stay outside any longer or Buffy might come looking for me. On your way, Spike. Steal that phone and give me a call as soon as you can." He waited until Spike was safely gone before he retreated inside the house to resume his act.
After Willow left the mansion, Buffy looked around for Angel. He was nowhere to be seen, having vanished sometime during the conversation. Maybe he'd been bored by the technical talk, but still.... The incident was another to add to his string of odd actions tonight. Why hadn't he said where he was going, or even indicated that he was leaving in the first place? Buffy was really beginning to get annoyed.
Rather than dwell on the situation, though, she settled down with her psychology textbook and started to read the assigned chapter. Another instructor was filling in during Professor Walsh's absence, which meant classes were going on more or less as normal and Buffy had to keep up. She was highlighting an especially important passage when Angel came back into the room and broke her concentration.
She wasn't going to acknowledge him. She wouldn't ask where he'd been or what he'd been doing. Instead, she'd wait to see if he volunteered the information.
Angel strolled closer. Buffy automatically turned a page. To her surprise, Angel didn't come right over to her, but crossed to the table, slid open the drawer, and pulled out his cell phone.
Momentarily forgetting her annoyance, Buffy shoved aside her book and jumped up. "Oh, you remembered to get the phone out. It's a good thing you did, because it completely slipped my mind and Willow could be calling pretty much anytime to give me a progress report." She extended her hand toward Angel. "I'd like to keep the phone nearby."
"I'll hold onto it," Angel offered.
"You're joking, right? You don't even really know how to use it. You'd probably end up sticking it inside another drawer or turning it off so Willow would never get through. It's safer with me." Buffy held out her hand again, and this time Angel slowly surrendered the phone. "We'll bring it upstairs when we go to bed so we'll be sure not to miss Willow's call. Speaking of which...." She hesitated. She hadn't wanted to be the one to bring up the subject, but Angel wasn't exactly being forthcoming. "Where did you go while I was talking to Willow before? I turned around and you had disappeared."
Angel paced to the far wall and turned around before answering. "I went outside to check the grounds just in case someone from the Initiative was around. You never know--they might realize you took the papers and come looking for them."
The excuse sounded plausible enough, but something about the situation still bothered Buffy. She just couldn't put a finger on what. Then again, considering all the recent trouble, it was probably just her paranoia coming into play. She shrugged off the feeling of concern and asked Angel, "You didn't see anyone?"
"Had no trouble at all. Everything's fine. We'll dismantle the Initiative and show your friends the error of their ways. No need to worry now."
Angel sounded so certain, almost like he knew something she didn't, that Buffy found herself gaining confidence from his words. "I'll just be relieved when all this is over with and we can get on with our normal lives. Well, as normal as they ever get, for us. It seems like we're always getting involved in some new disaster just as one ends."
"I've been able to handle everything that's been thrown at me for more than 200 years," Angel pointed out.
It was true, Buffy acknowledged. Angel didn't like to talk about it much, but he had survived a lot. She managed a slight smile and a nod.
Angel glanced at her battered textbook. "Do you really want to stay up studying, or can that wait until tomorrow? It's getting late, you know."
Buffy looked at the boring book and stifled a yawn; either she really was tired or just the thought of going back to studying bored her that much. "It can wait. It's mainly some reading and then I have to write a short essay. I can do it in the morning."
"Good. You go ahead. I'll be up soon."
Making sure to bring the cell phone with her, Buffy ascended the stairs alone and got ready for bed. She decided to curl up and wait for Angel to join her. She'd just close her eyes to rest them for a few minutes....
As if it came from a great distance, Buffy heard a persistent ringing. It reminded her of an alarm clock, but that wasn't quite right.... She came awake with a start. It was Angel's cell phone. It rang twice more as both Buffy and Angel, evidently also awakened by the noise, searched for it. Finally Buffy hunted it up beneath a fold of blanket and answered breathlessly, "Hello." No reply.
"Let me have it," Angel urged as he flicked on the bedside lamp.
Buffy covered the mouthpiece and told him, "Just a minute." She spoke into the receiver again. "Willow? Is that you?" A click answered her, as the person who had called hung up. Not Willow, then, obviously. "Wrong number," she informed Angel, placing the phone on the table on her side of the bed. "Whoever it was hung up."
"You should have given me the phone."
"Why?" Buffy wondered. "If the person had a wrong number, it wouldn't make any difference which of us was speaking."
"Yeah, right," Angel said shortly. He threw aside the blankets and got up. "I'm going downstairs to get some breakfast."
"All right." Buffy watched curiously as he left the room. Angel's reaction to the phone call had been very odd. She turned off the light and tried to put the incident out of her mind so she could go back to sleep, but it was no use. She was simply unable to drift off. So instead, she sat up again and worried about what was going on with Angel. It wasn't just that one thing was wrong; it was the combination of little incidents that added up to one disturbing whole.
After mulling over the situation, Buffy finally came up with an idea. She grabbed the cell phone and dialed a number before she could talk herself out of doing it. After a good eight rings, the person on the other end answered in a groggy voice.
Buffy sighed with relief and began her speech. "Hey, it's Buffy. I'm sorry to call so early but I need you to come see me as soon as you can. It's about Angel. He's acting very strange and I have to ask you something."
Angelus stormed downstairs into the kitchen. He just knew that mystery phone call had come from Spike, and because of Buffy he had missed it. Now he had to hope he could pry the phone away from her without arousing too much suspicion, and that Spike would call back during the new window of opportunity.
Still fuming, he microwaved a cup of blood to boiling level and downed it in one long swallow, but he remained unsatisfied after drinking. Of course, that was because this swill wasn't the breakfast he wanted. Angelus glared at the remaining blood in the dingy plastic bag. It was part of the cover he kept around to fool Buffy, and it was, without question, beneath his dignity. He wanted the good blood. He deserved the good blood. And all he had to do to get it was to go upstairs and make up with Buffy. It shouldn't be too hard, he told himself. Buffy had proven to be pretty much of a pushover where he was concerned. With the chip out, he didn't even need to worry anymore about possibly hurting himself when he bit her.
It didn't take much for Angelus to talk himself into giving it a go. He tossed the animal blood back into the refrigerator and calmed himself a bit before he walked back upstairs. He couldn't let Buffy think he was still upset. She would have questions, and a Buffy with questions was not a Buffy who would give him her blood.
He paused in the bedroom doorway, staring at her. She had her eyes closed; was breathing slowly and evenly. He could drain her now. The thought was tempting. He'd waited for so long already, and Slayers didn't just fall into his lap very often. But no. His plan was still unfolding, and it wasn't Buffy's time yet. He'd already settled on a pecking order. Her turn would come about eventually, and it would be all the more exciting and fulfilling for the wait.
Quietly padding over to the bed, Angelus sat down on the edge and traced a hand along Buffy's face, down to her neck. She stirred, probably half-asleep, and tried to shift his hand away without actually opening her eyes. Angelus leaned down to caress her lips with his. He'd convince her to wake up, if only for long enough for him to indulge in his meal.
Only Buffy was not cooperating. She made an indistinct murmur and squirmed away a bit. Not about to give up so easily, Angelus pressed the issue. Her blood-engorged veins were so close. He edged downward, nearer and nearer to his goal. Ignoring Buffy's murmur of "Not now," he brushed one blunt tooth over her neck and promptly morphed, fangs ready. With a triumphant growl, he snapped open his jaws and lunged. Then, just as his fangs pierced Buffy's pale flesh, he heard a distinct, "Angel, stop it!" In the next minute, his shoulders were pushed back, his teeth lost their contact, and with a thunk!, Angelus fell off the bed.
*****
Buffy leaned over the side of the bed to see Angel lying on the floor rubbing his head where it had apparently connected with the bedside table, judging by the crack after he fell. He didn't look particularly happy, which made two of them. He had a bump on his head; she might have a scar on her throat.
"No fangs! I thought I didn't have to tell you that!" she scolded. He had retracted them by now, but she couldn't suppress the memories of how it had felt to have them drag along her skin, then begin to puncture it. Reflexively, Buffy brought a hand to her throat to feel around for any blood. She was slightly mollified when she withdrew it dry, but then again, the only reason Angel hadn't bitten her deeply was because she had pushed him away in time.
"It's a vampire thing," he explained, sitting up. "Keeping the demon in check requires a lot of control. I can't just turn it on and off like a faucet."
"So you're saying your actions were instinctual and you couldn't help yourself." Buffy couldn't help remembering when he'd morphed following their first kiss years ago. That action certainly hadn't been deliberate, and she saw some truth in Angel's words this time. How hard must it be for a longtime vampire to live around the scent of fresh, hot, flowing human blood--that of a Slayer, no less--and remain unmoved? She had to represent a constant temptation to Angel. Would he ever be able to get past that fact and live at peace with her? The thought of dealing with biting problems every day sent a shudder through Buffy. Much as she loved Angel, she didn't love his pointed teeth. Simply the hint of being attacked was enough to make her skin crawl. "And what about the chip?" she added. "Shouldn't that have nipped your little attempt in the bud?"
"If I don't intend to harm you, it doesn't go off," Angel reminded her. "We discussed that a while ago."
"Yes, but this time I had no clue you wanted to chew on my neck. You just unilaterally decided to do it." Buffy stared at Angel. He *looked* pretty sorry. Of course, that might be mainly because he'd hit his head and it hurt, but it could also be because he regretted his actions. What the hell was going on? She couldn't shake away her doubts, and she hated not being able to trust Angel 100%. What was she supposed to do? Then Buffy thought about the phone call she had made not so long ago. She only hoped it worked. She needed a second opinion soon, and she needed a reliable one from someone with a different viewpoint. Soon, all of her questions might be answered.
Keeping firm hold of that encouraging thought, Buffy swung her legs out of bed and stood up. "Look, I'm gonna go sleep in another room, okay. I think we need a little distance right now." Angel didn't try to stop her as she left.
The call from Spike came an hour later. In her confusion, Buffy had accidentally left the cell phone behind, giving Angelus the opportunity to intercept the brief call. He copied down Spike's cell-phone number, hid it in his pocket, and resumed acting innocent. Not that he had anyone to practice the act on at the moment, since Buffy was sleeping in a bedroom down the hall.
When the phone rang a few hours after Spike's call, Angelus answered with a conservative "Hello?" and the thought that it might not be Spike on the other end this time.
He was correct; it was Willow. "Angel? Can I talk to Buffy?"
"Sure." As he went down the hall to wake her, he cautiously dug for a little information from Willow. "Have a breakthrough yet on the Initiative stuff?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm pretty happy."
"That's good." Angelus reached Buffy's room and opened the door. She was still asleep. "Hey. Wake up." He nudged her and waited until she opened her eyes before he handed over the phone. Then he returned to the hall, out of sight but not out of hearing range, the better to idly eavesdrop on Buffy and Willow's conversation. It turned out to be almost all about the results of Willow's computer work. Nothing to be alarmed about. If Buffy was suspicious of him, she didn't mention her concerns to her friend.
Once she had hung up, Angelus retreated so that she wouldn't know he'd been listening. He went downstairs into the living room to wait, and sure enough, several minutes later Buffy appeared, dressed and looking ready to go out.
"Angel." She hesitated, staring at him, then continued. "Willow just told me she made a really big breakthrough with the computer work she's been doing for us. I'm going to meet her and talk about what to do next."
"All right. Sounds good." Angelus nodded, figuring this course of events could be for the best. If Buffy was concerned with other matters, she would have less chance to mull over the unfortunate incident from earlier that day. At the least, her departure would create a little much-needed space between them so he could regroup.
"Bye, then." Buffy quickly exited.
"Hmmm." Angelus thought as he paced the room, feeling like a caged tiger. Buffy was unsure of him; that much was painfully obvious. Would this bit of time and space really do much to help fix matters? Probably not. It seemed he might have to make a bold move to win her back. What, though? Seek out and kill a vicious demon so he could present her with its head on a platter? Save a busload of children from sure death? Make friends with Xander?
No, scratch that last option, the most ridiculous of the bunch. If he started being nice to Xander, it would only arouse *everyone's* suspicions. Even Angel, who had notoriously awful taste in friends, had barely been able to tolerate Xander. Angelus and Xander, then, made a decidedly unmixable combination.
Well, Angelus considered, he could do something that would compel Buffy to turn to him. That path seemed like the one to pursue. And Angelus thought he knew exactly the move to make. He had been thinking about it for some time as a move he would pull off down the road. Perhaps "down the road" had arrived. The maneuver was risky, it was outrageous, it was dangerous, and if it worked, the payoff could be tremendous. Yes, tonight Angelus was going to kill Rupert Giles.
*****
To rest up for the big night ahead, Angelus took a nap on the couch with the cell phone beside him. Of course, it rang just as he was drifting off, and he answered with some annoyance coloring his voice. "Hello?"
Silence.
"Hello? Who is this?"
His answer was a dial tone as the caller hung up.
Must have been a wrong number, Angelus decided as he lay back. This time, though, he found it hard to fall asleep so he lay and basked in his plans for that night. Giles' death was a means to an end. It would eliminate an enemy, and more importantly, it would devastate Buffy. She wouldn't--couldn't--suspect him, the poor, put-upon, defanged vampire boyfriend--of the crime. Therefore, she would turn to him, her Watcher's secret killer, for solace. Angelus could think of no greater irony. Eventually, he would be all Buffy had left. And then....
The ringing of the doorbell roused him from his beautiful fantasy. Growling, he got to his feet. It was starting to seem like all the annoying bastards in the world had picked that day to target him. Well, he'd answer quickly, get rid of whoever was pestering him, and return to his delightful daydreams of death and destruction.
Yet when Angelus yanked open the door, his day underwent a drastic change. For standing outside was one of the last people he expected: Cordelia Chase.
She arched an eyebrow, tapped one elegantly shod foot, and finally snapped, "Well, aren't you going to ask me in?"
"Of course." Feeling incredibly pissed off at the intrusive bitch who was sure to cramp his style, Angelus nonetheless collected himself as he stepped back and gestured Cordelia inside. She waited until he had closed the door, then stood in front of him with an expectant expression on her face. She couldn't want... yes, she *must* want it: a hug. Valiantly trying to hide his distaste, Angelus reached out and enveloped Cordelia in his arms. "It's good to see you, Cordy. Really."
She squirmed out of his embrace after about three seconds. "Okay, enough of that. Get away from me."
Angelus watched as Cordelia backed away from him until a good 20 feet separated them. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"
She glared at him. "Don't ever touch me again--Angelus."
TBC