Chapter 3: The Perfect Date
"So then he's all like 'bloody' this and 'bugger' that and h-he kept calling me Betty! Betty! Can you imagine? What do I look like, some dumb blonde?" Buffy held her hand up. "Wait, don't answer that."
Angel chuckled as he tucked a stray lock of hair under Buffy's ear. " I think . . ." he murmured slowly, quietly, "That you look . . . absolutely beautiful."
She shivered at the cool contact of his fingers on her bare neck. She paused to gaze at him, and suddenly, as usual, they found themselves caught in each other's eyes, letting all the noise and blaring music of the Bronze fade away. Buffy licked her lips unconsciously and gazed down at his. She ducked down to meet his, but Angel pressed a finger to her soft lips to stop her. "M-maybe w-we shouldn't . . . you know . . . cause we're here . . . in a public place," he gasped uncertainly. Dejected, Buffy nodded as she straightened and nervously turned to twirling the straw of her drink.
"Right . . . cause I forgot, you're all non-emotion-y in places with . . . people." Buffy gazed down awkwardly at her hands.
"I just think that certain things . . . are for . . . certain places and certain times." Buffy continued to nod, her eyes hardening in quiet anger. "Like in a vampire-infested cemetery during patrolling." Angel sighed.
"That's not what I mean Buffy---"
"No, you know what?" Buffy held her hand up abruptly. "I got it. You don't really want people to know we're dating. Centuries old-vampire. Teenage slayer. Doesn't really scream conventional relationship, I know."
Angel shook his head in frustration. "That's not it. You think I care about my reputation? Kinda dead, so no reputation to be worried about there."
Buffy sighed. "I know. But then what is it? Because I keep getting this feeling that when we're together . . . you keep drawing back. Like you here . . . and then not."
Angel leaned forward and grasped her by the hand. "You know I'm always here with you Buffy," he said earnestly. She smiled slightly and brought a hand to his cool cheek.
"I know," she whispered. Her smile faded when he gently removed her hand from his face.
"It's just . . . I'm not really used to this whole 'dating' thing. I haven't really been acquainted with it for a couple decades now and . . . I just want things to go right. Slow. Easy." Angel searched her eyes for understanding. Buffy shrugged uncomfortably.
"Yeah. I understand. I should have known it would be weird for you to just hang here at the Bronze with me on a weeknight when your usual itinerary is composed of heating up a steaming cup of spiced liquidy-red goodness." She paused as Angel sighed and ducked his head. "Why don't we do something more . . . us. Patrolling sound good?" Buffy flashed a plastered smile weakly.
"Are you sure Buffy? Cause we can stay here if you really want to. It's not that weird, it's not like I haven't ever been here before, well, more like in-the-shadows-type-here, but still---"
"No," she interrupted perkily. "I want us to have a perfect date. If that includes carnage and demonic death, then count me in." Her face turned more serious. "Just as long as I'm with you." Angel smiled broadly as he surprised her with a small peck on her lips.
"Let's go," he agreed.
"So Giles' son really is like a . . . punk?" Angel shook his head in amazement.
"I know! Think of the weird. I mean, I always imagined Mini-Giles would come out of his mom's womb dressed in tweed and spectacles. He's all Billy Idol-ish, the Next Generation."
Angel chuckled amusedly. "Gotta admit. Stunner that Giles ever got laid back in the day."
Buffy grinned. "I know. That's what we all said. Thoroughly emasculating to Giles, but still."
They walked comfortably, stakes swinging at their sides, through the moon-lit graveyard. The tension faded between then, now that they were in this place of death, the cold marble tombstones providing more comfort than the brightly-lit Bronze could ever give. It was this link, death and slaying, that truly brought them together, provided sense to this anomaly that was their relationship.
"So how's Giles feel about his long-lost son suddenly showing up in ol' Sunnyhell?"
Buffy shrugged. "Kind of tense. I mean, he hasn't seen the guy in seventeen years. He's probably never seen him until now. He feels really guilty about him being MIA from his own son's childhood and Spike is visibly seething about it . . . which I guess I kind of get." Angel turned to look at Buffy, who suddenly turned wistful, thinking of her own much-absent father. "But still . . ." she pointed out. "Doesn't give him a warrant to go all Mr. Joe Rude-o on all of us. Well except Willow. A-and Oz. They all kind of hit it off."
"So basically it's only you who doesn't like him," Angel smiled at her girlish hypocrisy.
"And Xander!" she protested. But considering Angel's feelings about Xander, that didn't do much redeeming.
"So what, Xander's come up with a nickname for him too? Not 'Dead-Boy' that's his affectionate term for me, of course," Angel joked. Buffy grinned and punched him playfully, but Angel grabbed her wrist before she could and brought her close to him, so that their noses nearly touched.
"Time . . . place . . ." Buffy whispered breathlessly, already guessing his intentions.
"Yes . . . vampires . . . patrolling . . ." Angel murmured back before they joined in a soft kiss that soon escalated into something deeper. Buffy let her tongue slide ever-so-gently into Angel's mouth, which he responded to by settling his large hands around her waist and drawing her in to the wide expanse of his chest. Buffy gripped his arms and gasped as they parted a few times. Buffy finally drew back first.
"Wow," she murmured.
"Yeah." Angel rested his forehead against hers.
"No, I mean wow." She looked up and around the graveyard, parting from Angel. "We've been patrolling for hours and we haven't seen one vampire."
Angel wrinkled his brows as he became more conscious of their surroundings. "You're right."
Buffy put her hands to hips impatiently. "I mean, Fridays are usually a free-for-all for vampires, their time to play. So how come we haven't even staked one?"
Angel frowned thoughtfully. "Hmm." He paced the graveyard, looking around recent burial plots for signs of undead resurrection. He bent down and fingered the soil. He looked back up at Buffy. "These graves. There are holes here. These vampires have already risen."
"What?" Buffy neared Angel in haste. "What do you mean? Then where are they?"
Angel grasped some soil in his hands and ran it through his fingers. "It's dusty. It's got vampire dust mixed in." He looked to Buffy once more in amazement. "Someone's already been here, already staked these vamps."
Buffy stared at him incredulously now. "What---you mean slayed them? Like what I do . . . but in the non-Slayer capacity?"
Angel shrugged. "I guess." He turned and sniffed the air, as if he suddenly detected something else. Getting up, he neared some bushes and dove between them, searching for something while Buffy frowned in confusion. He stopped when he found what he was looking for. "Buffy . . ." his voice wavered slightly. "Come here." Cautiously, Buffy stepped up to where he was and peered down in between the bushes. There lay a dead demon, green blood flowing from his horned head, trickling down his pustuled body with a stake protruding from his chest.
"Ewww." Buffy scrunched up her nose in disgust.
"Don't you see Buffy? This proves that someone was here before us, did all the slaying. But who?" He lost himself in thought, face turning broody-like. "Did Giles say he was going to patrol?"
"No. He said he was going out with Ms. Calendar tonight."
"Oz? Xander?"
Buffy scoffed gently. "Oz is all hairy and canine-inclined tonight, and um Xander? Not without direct supervision."
"Well then who? We can't just overlook this Buffy, this is too weird."
"Yeah," Buffy agreed, becoming increasingly suspicious. "How come suddenly someone's doing my dirty work? I like it dirty as is."
"We should go to Giles to tell him about it."
Buffy nodded. "But let's not bother him about it tonight. Not when he's on non-Watcher time." Angel agreed and they walked hand in hand away from the cemetery.