Title: Buffy, Clem and Angel: Three-way Cuddle
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona
E-mail: grant@hagden169.fsnet.co.uk
Summary: Angel broods. Buffy breakfasts. Clem remains cheerful.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Buffy/Angel/Clem
Spoilers: Buffy 6, Angel 3
Warnings: Angst
Author Notes: Yes, it's a threesome. So?
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss etc. God. Worship due. Amen.

Buffy:

After patrol last night, we came straight back to the house. Now Dawn's staying with friends again, we get the occasional night when we can do just what we like- and I liked what we did. I knew Angel was good in bed, based on one night, but I didn't realize he had that much experience with threes. He knows just how to make it good for all of us, even if I get the impression he doesn't enjoy it as much as I and Clem do.

I'm going to have to work on that, maybe get Clem to help me do something special for him. I tend to forget that Angel can feel quite as insecure as any teenager.

I sleep a bit later than usual, and when I wake up, the first thing I see is Clem, cuddled next to me. Funny- no one's behind me. When I roll over, mystery solved. Angel is sitting in the corner, watching and brooding.

Oh no, here we go again. I'm hungry, but I have to cheer him up first. I slide out of bed, noting that while he must have seen the move, he doesn't react at all.

I step up to him, putting my hand out to touch his shoulder. Reminding myself to keep it quiet- no sense in waking Clem- I ask, "Angel? Are you alright?" I guess it's not the greatest question ever, but it's the best I can do at short notice.

"I'm fine," he says, not moving. "You should go find something to eat."

"Find it for me," I say, hoping to stir him into some sort of action. It works, kind of.

"Okay," he sighs. "Come on."

We head down to the kitchen, and he starts to make coffee and such. I think Cordy must have been giving him lessons in how to do human things, because he sure couldn't make coffee when he met me.

When I'm seated at the counter with a plate of omelet in front of me, I try again. "Angel, tell me what's the matter."

He shakes his head. "Nothing's the matter. Those okay?"

"They're fine, but you're not. I wake up to find you brooding, and you won't tell me why. Not helping with openness and honest score here."

No smile. He doesn't even look at me, just stares off into the middle distance, looking at some invisible thing or other.

"Angel, talk to me. Is it about me? Clem? Dawn? Alice? Darla? What? Angel, tell me."

Angel:

Why does she have to be so persistent? I can't tell her. I can't say that I'm not sure if this works, that I don't feel comfortable with this, that I'm all screwed up inside and I'm not over Connor and I dreamt about Wesley and something's wrong here. I can't.

I shake my head, again, and sigh.

"I…I can't. I'm just- it takes time to adjust."

"Angel, it's been a week. What is there for you to adjust to? I love you, I love Clem. Clem loves me, Clem loves you. You love me, you love Clem. We're together. We're happy. Simple."

But it's not. I love her, I always will, and Clem is powerfully attractive, I'll admit that. the thing is, Spike's attractive too. So's Wesley, and did I really just think that? "I..I'm not sure I can deal with this right now," I tell her, and walk out. Unfortunately, the sun's up and I can't go far, so I stride into the living room, flopping down where she can't see me. I need to work out why I feel this way.

Buffy:

When he's in brood-mode, there's not much anyone can say that will reach through the black cloud he wraps around himself. I finish my breakfast, and then go back upstairs to get dressed. My slayer senses tell me Angel's in the living room, so I steer clear of there. When I'm not so annoyed with him for shutting himself off, I'll go and talk to him.

Getting dressed takes a little longer than I intend, because Clem wanted to, well, you can guess what. We had a long talk, mostly about Angel. If we're to include him in our relationship, both Clem and I have to work together on sorting out the problems. We'll work with Angel, when we've solved his problems.

Clem:

Buffy is such a wonderful person: she is always giving, both to me and, now, to Angel. We head downstairs when we're both dressed.

"You go first," she says. "I'll be in the kitchen, just call me if I don't come."

I look round the arch into the room. There's Angel, sitting in one of the armchairs where he can't be seen from outside the room, eyes fixed on some faraway point and face drooping sadly.

"Angel?" I call, walking up to him slowing. No sense in surprising him.

There's no reaction. I've never seen the guy in full-on brood mode before, but from what Buffy's said, this is it. He's practically catatonic.

"Angel? Talk to me, Angel."

His eyes refocus themselves, but he doesn't make any other response. I sit on the floor in front of him, and keep talking.

"What is it, Angel? Just let me know you're really in there. I'm falling in love with you, Angel. I love Buffy, and so do you, I see that, and I love you for it. Can you tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

He looks at me now, not moving his head, just those handsome brown eyes. "I can't," he says, his voice flat.

"What can't you do, Angel?" Keep it gentle, try to keep the hope, the forced cheerfulness, out of my voice. False optimism is not the way to go with Angel.

"This," he tells me, gesturing round the room at nothing in particular. "With you, with her. I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"The dreams," he replies, then stops as if he has said more than he meant to.

"What dreams? Angel, it's okay, you can tell me." He doesn't hear or doesn't believe me, though, because he is standing up, walking out.

Ah, well. He'll probably come round soon.

Angel:

I won't tell him. I can't. How can one tell an obnoxiously cheerful demon, with whom one had sex last night, that you don't love him or his girlfriend (who happens to be your former and apparently current girlfriend) because you have fallen for your British- technically boss- who kidnapped your child and, as far as you can figure, killed him? I know Connor isn't really dead, he's just changed his name to Steven, but to me he's gone. He'll never be my son now, he doesn't love me, I hardly know him.

I've worked some of this out. I'm in love with Wesley. I have all this anger, this almost hate for him, but I love him. He tried to protect me from myself, he isn't brave enough to trust me, but he is a true friend, and I love him. I doubt he feels the same way about me, so I guess I'm doomed to remain alone forever, curse or no.

Buffy:

Angel's an adult. If he wants to mope around and be all sad and stuff, that's his call. I want to sleep with Clem, and he can join us or not as he chooses. I'd sort of hoped that I could bring the two of them together- then, when I'm gone, as I surely will be one day, they will both have someone, a fellow demon, to help and support them. They both need that.

I'll keep trying, but there can be no guarantees- of course. There never are.