Chapter 8: Four Little Indians...
Buffy twirled the stake expertly in her hand as she stared Angel down. Cordy sat curled up on the couch, eyeing Willow, who was looking at Buffy provoking Angel.
The four sat, looking at each other, silently daring the other to make the first move. Each of them forgot the next day was Monday and the goal had been to stay alive until then. Now, as the sun began to set, the goal became who could get the other to crack first. It was survival of the fittest with a dash of bring it on.
Finally Willow had had enough. "I'm going to bed."
When Cordy rose to go with her, Willow stopped her. "Alone," she stressed.
"What, now you don't trust me?"
"Last time, you 'helped' someone upstairs, they ended up dead!"
"I didn't kill Anya! God! Why do you all keep accusing me?" she cried.
Willow's face softened. "Sorry, Cordy. I don't trust anyone now. Too much has happened for me to do that."
"Fine!" Cordy asserted. "Then I don't trust any of you." She walked to the front door and opened it.
"Where are you going?" asked Buffy, worriedly.
"Out for a walk… try and stop me!" she said, slamming the door behind her.
Buffy made to go after her, when Willow stopped her. "Leave her be."
"But the killer…?"
"What makes you think she isn't the killer?" asked Willow, frankly. She looked at Buffy, then Angel. "From now on, it's every man, woman… and demon for himself."
Buffy's jaw worked, but she said nothing as Willow went upstairs.
An hour later, Buffy was flipping through the last book Spike had, thinking of him and the love she found too late, when she remembered Cordy wasn't back yet.
Angel had paced back and forth between the rooms, looking out the windows at the storm clouds looming and showing obvious concern.
"What?" she asked him. "Don't tell me you care where Cordy is?"
"Of course, I care…" answered Angel. "She's my friend, Buffy, she's my…"
"What?" asked Buffy, straightening. "Your what, Angel?"
Angel sighed and walked out of the room. Buffy followed him and grabbed his shirt, spinning him around.
"What, Angel?! Your lover?! You slept with her, didn't you? You're Angelus!"
Angel laughed. "If I was Angelus, would I be pacing a hole in the ground?!" he asked. "You don't think I would have eviscerated you by now?!"
Buffy flinched slightly, as if she hadn't thought of that.
"And not that it's any of your business, but yes, I love her… There, are you happy?!" he yelled.
"You… you love Cordelia?" Buffy asked, confused.
"She's changed, Buffy. More than any of you will know. She's my best friend and I love her…"
Buffy went back into the sitting room and sat down, stunned her suspicion was true. Angel came in behind her and said, "Oh, why do you even care? You've been sleeping with Spike behind our backs!"
"Spike was different."
"So is Cordelia!" he argued. "Everyone else in LA was happy for me, why can't you?"
"Because you can tell her that and I can't tell Spike!" she yelled. "Not any more," she whispered.
Angel looked at Buffy who looked at him with sad eyes. "Go," she said and Angel didn't hesitate but ran out into the night to find Cordelia.
Buffy walked over to the burnt spot in the corner and touched the wall. Then she collapsed in tears.
He heard the thunder roll as he ran across the back way. Angel searched for fifteen minutes. No sign of Cordelia. No, let it not be too late… he thought. I love her!
Like you loved me?
Angel turned to the voice. No one was there. He was dreaming, right?
You'll be hurting everyone you love, Liam. Buffy, Cordy… even me…
"Who are you?" he asked out loud.
Come on, Liam. Don't you know the voice of your betrothed?
"No, you don't exist! I'm repenting for my sins! Why can't you let me be?!" he said, noting the unconscious slip of an Irish brogue in his voice again.
Because you can't repent for this, Liam. The Powers let you repent for your demon's sins, but this one's your own. And I won't let you hurt her.
"No! I love her! Please!"
It's too late, Liam.
"No! No! NOOOO!" Angel cried as the storm broke out, pouring rain over him.