Part 6

"Oh my God, that's gotta hurt," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Three storeys? I thought you said it was at your house, though."

"Well, it was," Angel said. He stopped at his driveway and punched in the security code for the gate, "See? Three storeys. You wanna come inside?" The gate clicked open and held it open for her.

"I would," she beamed, stepping through.

Heading up the path, Buffy studied the property—large, lots of plants, high security and a very large (and very impressive) house. The mansion's exterior was made of sandstone, good with the upkeep seeing as there wasn't a single stain from the recent Californian summer rainstorms. Rose bushes lined either side of the driveway, alternating colours all the way up—red, white, red, white... Two round topiaries stood either side of the front door, each pruned so prudently precise that not a single leaf nor twig was out of place.

"Nice house," Buffy commented as Angel fished around in his pockets for his house keys. Barking came from behind the door, Bertha was anxious to be let out into the yard to do his 'thang' (and sniff around for bugs and snails while he was at it).

Angel eventually found his keys in his bag and pulled them out excitedly. "Not quite as nice as yours, I'm afraid."

"And what's so appealing about a large house with much too much space? Getting lost or feeling alone?" Buffy commented dryly. "Except for when Thor is there, of course. There's nothing like a dog for company..."

"Well, unless you're talking about ugly-" Angel paused for moment. "Actually, never mind."

"Don't worry. You might find that I'm not easily offended," Buffy said with a smile, slipping off her coat and giving it to Angel to hang in the closet. "I kinda get used to it after awhile, what with all the people I'm constantly surrounded with. You know, stage crew, dancers, make-up, etc, etc..."

"Okay, well I guess you know what I was going to say then..." Angel said with a slight shake of his head. "I guess you're not the only one embarrassed today."

Buffy giggled, "Guess not. But when has that ever been a bad thing?"

Angel shrugged. "Would you like something to drink? Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"

"No. I'm still full from the cake and my wonderfully sugary and caffeinated mocha," Buffy smiled. She gazed up the stairs and inspected the entire interior of the front foyer—very striking artworks and homely atmosphere...the kind that strikes as the kind that mothers create for their children. Like a nest with florals and hardwood floors. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"I don't know. Spike's probably upstairs with his girlfriend...again. My dad's at work, and I think my mum has her facial appointment today," Angel said, leading her up the stairs. The jittery, nervous feeling had left long ago, but now had returned. His room. The posters. **Shit...oh, fuck. Damn, shit, crap...argh!!** He stopped at his door and reached for the doorknob. **Stop it, you fuckhead! Embarrass yourself some more why don't you?** He pulled his hand back again.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, puzzled as to what it could be that was behind that door.

"Nothing...just wondering if Spike is home... He's a fan of you, too," he said, opening the next door down the hallway. "Spike!"

"Oi! Will you stop barging in on people like that?" Spike asked, panicking about this very unfavourable situation. He was making out with Faith, on his bed, and they had somehow gotten into a VERY strategic position. He saw a flash of blonde hair flickering from behind his door. "Don't tell me you brought Darla here. You know how your mum hates 'er."

"No, not Darla," Angel said with a mischievous grin. He pushed the door wider and Buffy gawked.

"Oh my God," Spike said breathlessly.

"Oh my God," Buffy's eyes widened at the abundance of posters of *her*. How weird was that? Seeing yourself all over someone else's walls...or anybody's walls.

"Spike, Faith, Buffy," Angel introduced them casually.

"Nice to meet you," Faith said, smiling pleasantly at Buffy. "Spike's totally obsessed about you. So is Angel."

"Are you and Spike brothers?" Buffy asked Angel, "Cos you don't look very alike."

"Just stepbrothers," Angel replied, waving his hand in front of William's eyes.

"What the fuck?" Spike said under his breath. "If I'm dreaming, wake me up."

Faith punched his arm.

"Ouch," Spike said, rubbing his arm protectively. "Oh wait, I felt that." He cocked his head to the side, "But then again, maybe you CAN feel things in your dreams...ow..."

Angel sighed, "Stop making a big fool of yourself, William. But of course, how could I forget? You're always making a fool of yourself..."

"Oh shit," Spike swore. **My posters! Okay, NOW I'm embarrassed. Damn you, Peaches. Why'd you have to go and invite her over without warning! I heard the rumours, but... Well there goes my chance with her...**

"Wow...impressive poster collection..." Buffy commented, worriedly gazing at the posters pinned up all over the walls of the room.

Spike snorted, "You should see HIS room.

"Spike!" Angel scowled, punching him in the other arm.

"Hey! What was that for? Now they both hurt..."

"Wuss."

"Talk about a dysfunctional family..."

"Okay, who wants something to drink? Water? Coffee? Orange juice? A margarita?" Angel asked, sheepishly avoiding having to show her his own room. Spike was right; he had a LOT more of that kind of stuff than his stepbrother. "We'll be going now," Angel said before his stepbrother could embarrass him even more. He held the door open and pleaded with Buffy for her to help him out.

"I guess I'll see you around then," Buffy said quickly, before swiftly stepping through the door and closing it behind her.

Angel shook his head. "Don't ask."

"Come on...please? I want to see," Buffy pleaded with him. "I promise I won't laugh or say 'oh my God' or do anything mean."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Oh come on. It can't be THAT bad..."

"Yes it is."

"Please?"

"No, no, no...NO WAY. Uh-uh," Angel shook his head adamantly. "Never."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Buffy teased light-heartedly. She had learnt early on in her life that there were certain people you could and couldn't trust—she felt that she was pretty damned close to finding people she could, and it was only her first day. Not that this had anything to do with the whole 'trust' issue...

Angel gaped at her...then he burst out laughing. "This is ridiculous."

"Please? You're making me beg and that is NEVER good."

"Oi! What the fuck is going on out here?" Spike interrupted, poking his head (which was attached to a half-annoyed, half-amused face) through the door.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean it's 'nothing'? She's showing you 'ers; go ahead," Spike scolded him, even though he didn't have a single clue what the heck they had been arguing about. **Who do they think they are? A married couple? Hah, and they've only known each other for a day...like Dharma and Greg. Ahem...not that I watch that show...and also not that I don't want Buffy for myself.**

"I don't know which part of the conversation you heard, but I think you're getting a very wrong impression," Angel said, noticing the smirk on his stepbrother's face.

Spike surrendered, "Okay, okay. I get the point now...I'm going..." He ducked back in his room, not before giving Buffy a quick wink, out of Angel's line of sight.

Buffy shook her head. **Strange guy...but at least he has a good sense of humour.** Turning back to Angel, she again said, "Please?"

"Maybe...but not today," Angel answered. "I've got to clean it up, take down my collection of posters...stuff like that."

"Posters of me?"

Angel's expression turned into one of awkwardness, "Umm...sort of."

"Worse than Spike?"

"Uh...you could say that. You know...if it's a bad thing..."

"It isn't a bad thing," Buffy said cheerfully. "As long as you aren't one of those freaky stalker-types, it's pretty much a good thing. And you have to let me see one day, so...ha! Promise me, and I'll promise you." She held out her pinkie finger.

Angel looked at her hesitantly. **What the fuck? I'm dreaming...I've got to be dreaming. What do I do? Embarrass myself and let her find out that I'm obsessed with her and lose her friendship or...let her find out that I'm obsessed with her and get to see hers? This is REALLY stupid. Ooh, but I DO get to go inside Buffy Summers' BEDROOM...what the Hell do I do?** Angel latched his own pinkie finger with hers, "Promise. Even though this is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard of..."

"Good."

"How many?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"Oh...about 50..." Angel shrugged.

"You said something about a margarita?"

*****

That night, Buffy went to bed thanking anyone who was listening for giving her the chance to have a normal life, and for being able to meet people who weren't totally freaked out by her celebrity status and who she could already imagine being good friends with. Willow, Xander, Oz and Angel... **And oh my GOD. Angel is hot...very much so. He has a girlfriend though. An evil one, sure, but still...a girlfriend is a girlfriend. And isn't it ironic that Cordelia is named after the only one of King Lear's three daughters who *wasn't* evil? Oh well, at least this town has a lot of character... Yeah, keep thinking thoughts like that Buffy, you know you're only trying to keep your mind off Angel and his leather pants... Stop that! Bad Buffy! FRIENDS, just FRIENDS... Emotional attachment equals extreme badness. Especially emotional attachment in the romantic sense. FRIENDS, Buffy... It won't be too hard. Just for the next...year or so. I think too much.**