"Thank you, Tara." She answers a simple 'you're welcome' as she stares at the floor, and then excuses herself.
Silence permeates the hallway.
"Bite size came to see me."
"She did?"
"She said she doesn't believe the things the Slayer told her and the gang."
"She did?"
"I think it was my visit to the funeral that changed her mind."
"Prob'ly." I smile gently.
"Wanna go home?"
"Definitely." We both smile. He offers me his arm and I accept. Nowhere but Sunnydale would you see an ensouled vampire and a rogue seraph walking down the street arm in arm.
William effectively avoids the subject of his tirade earlier and I let him. We walk toward home, just chit chatting; the kind of conversation that old ladies engage in.
Just over the last hill, we see, of all things, the Slayer in battle with yet another walking dead. I look up at William, who has unconsciously stopped in his tracks. Unbeknownst to him, he is staring, just short of drooling. "Isn't she just magnificent?"
"She's one in a million." The look on his face is priceless. Complete and utter fascination with undertones of devotion. Suddenly, my words register and he snaps out of his trance.
"Did I just say that aloud?"
Just a smile and a nod.
"Oh, bloody hell." Damn, I wish he could blush. That would make this job so much more fun.
The fight has come to an end and Buffy glances around in an attempt to survey the area for further threats. In the process, she sees us, but looks confused at what she spies. I stand on tiptoe to whisper in William's ear, and then he yells over to the blonde warrior, "Nice work, luv." I pull on his arm gently, guiding him away and toward home.
Once out of earshot, he turns to me. "What was the bloody point of that, Angel?"
"Isn't it obvious? You gotta play down the obsessive behavior, bud. What we're gonna do is play it cool, interfere minimally, flash some of that charming William that's way down inside," I punctuate those last words with finger pokes to his heart, "and one day, she'll get over the Valentine's Day Massacre.
He sighs.
Buffy flipped over the ugly beast, landing expertly behind it, stake in hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of figures emerge: a brown haired man with a darker haired woman. Her Slayer instinct burrowed away that information as she followed through with a thrust to the vamp's heart. A splash of dust was all that was left of the formerly disgusting thing. She surveyed her surroundings and found the only thing worth attention was the odd couple she noticed seconds earlier. 'Why do lovers think the cemetery is a grand place for a stroll? Death wish much?' Then something happened. The handsome man turned just so, and the moonlight reflected off his features. She recognized that face, but couldn't quite place him. Did she know him from Sunnydale High? The young man then yelled something to her. "Nice work, luv." As soon as she recognized the voice, he and his companion had disappeared.
'Spike? That was Spike?! His hair was so…brown…and normal…and he didn't say anything nasty…and…who was that brunette hanging on him? That certainly wasn't Drusilla.'
Buffy started off after them, convincing herself all the while that she needed to save the poor, stupid, unsuspecting girl from…well…him. This had nothing to do with jealousy. Of course not! This was about duty, and…duty, that's all. Did I mention duty?
"Just bloody wonderful. Now I'm makin' up for the wrongs of my past life."
"Oh, just drop the hysterics, would you? I told you. You're not Liam. Now shut up about him already!"
He calmed noticeably. "I just gotta ask. How is it that I'm all soul having, but I'm not…broody and Angel-like?"
"Will." I gently put my hand on his. The night air has chilled me to the bone, but his strong hand still feels cool. "You always had your soul. When the demon was introduced, your soul found a way to live along side. Plus, you have to remember that Liam was never the man you were. He lived a pampered life, really. He was all about living for himself. He had no insight, no inner strength. And I'm starting to sound like a ninny, so I'll shut up about now."
"No, please. I love to hear you talk about wanker-boy. You have such a flare."
"The POINT BEING, it's like being kidnapped in a murderer's car and being forced to drive while he shoots people out the window. Your soul learned to deal with it. And sometimes, it would be able to turn the car down a deserted street and prevent more killings, but it was resigned to the fact that there was only so much it could do. Now, the demon is at a disadvantage, because it hasn't fed in months.
He contemplates this for a while as he grows quiet. William the Bloody, silent. Are pigs flying?
The golden Slayer approached warily and stopped when she heard the phrase come out of the vampire's mouth. "…gotta ask. How is it that I'm all soul having, but I'm not…broody and Angel-like?"
Now, she could have done any number of things at that
moment: freeze, freak out, confront him. But she chose to wander
home in a daze.