Chapter Six

It was all quiet now. Xander and Spike had long since left, but still Angel had not said so much as a word. He had sat hunched up on her couch, staring down into his hands. Any attempts to engage him in conversation had been met with grunts or just outright silence, so Buffy had given up and sat down on the couch beside him.

Unable to bear the tension anymore, Buffy abruptly stood and began to walk towards the stairs. "I need to know what's going on," he said suddenly.

Buffy turned slowly and coolly regarded the brooding vampire before her. "Well, for the last half an hour you've been pretty much avoiding all forms of communication. How's that for starters?" she retorted.

Seeing the flash of hurt on Angel's face, she instantly regretted her sarcasm. "Look, Angel, I didn't mean that…" she began awkwardly, as he looked at her doubtfully. "Okay, I did mean that, but I didn't mean… you know," she uttered lamely. She then sat down beside him, twisting a strand of hair nervously between her fingers. "I don't know what's going on. Not with you, or with us. It's just one whole big mess."

Angel stared straight ahead, unsure of what to do. Every instinct in his body was urging him to gather this tiny, lost-looking girl into his arms, but somehow he could not bring himself to do it. Who was he to offer comfort when all he did was to cause her pain and confusion?

"Maybe I should go," he said quietly, not moving from the couch.

Buffy turned to him, and placed her hand over his. "No," she whispered. "I don't want you to go."

A torrent of uncontrolled anger went through him, as his frustration and unfulfilled yearning gnawed inside him. "Then what do you want, Buffy?" he demanded, grasping her shoulders tightly.

"I don't know," she told him honestly. "You, me. For things to be like they were before you left, before you lost your soul. "

"That can never happen," he replied, his voice laced with regret. He let her go.

"Don't you think I know that!" she remonstrated, her eyes sparking with pain. "I've lived with the pain of losing you for 4 years now and it never gets any easier. I love you more than I will ever love anything else in this life and it's still not enough, is it?"

Angel gaped at her in bewilderment. "4 years? I've been gone 4 years?"

"Yes," she said finally, not wanting to push him any further than she had. "After I graduated High School, you left for LA. You've been running Angel Investigations ever since."

"I don't understand any of this, it doesn't make sense," he raved. "I don't remember this life, these memories. I would never leave you!"

Buffy looked on, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. What could she say? She felt as lost as he did.

"It must be wrong, please tell me it's wrong, please, please…." he pleaded, burying his face in her hair.

She held him fast, and began to rock him gently. "It's okay, Angel," she reassured him desperately. "We'll work it out, we will." And behind her back, she crossed her fingers.

**********************

Angel was tired. He had been driving for an hour now while Lorne, Cordelia, Gunn and Fred had dozed. In the rear view mirror he could see Gunn smiling dreamily in his sleep, the safe, self-assured grin of a man firmly in love, as Fred snored gently, slumped against his shoulder. He almost envied Gunn the simplicity of his bond with Fred, the innocence in the gesture of falling asleep side by side with a woman you loved. In all the years of his existence, it was the most human, most comforting thing Angel had ever experienced. It was what he had most longed for when he had first come to LA, to feel the soothing weight of Buffy as she slept against his shoulder.

He knew that it was returning to Sunnydale that was making him have these thoughts. The loneliness was always most acute when he was near to her, being constantly tortured by what he felt he could never have. He sighed to himself, resolving to stop thinking about the past. He was here to do a job, to find out what Buffy was up to and how it linked to the spell Wolfram and Hart had performed on him. The fact there was another Angel running around in Sunnydale did not so much unnerve him as the thought of seeing Buffy again. The last time he had seen her had been shortly after her resurrection.

As soon as he had heard the news she was alive, he had rang her up, desperate to hear her voice again, and know that his Buffy was alive again. Their conversation had been a jumbled rush of words, driven by the urgent need to see each other. They had both left then and there to meet, not caring what commitments they were leaving behind. On seeing one another, they had both just stared, spellbound at the sight of the other, unable to believe this was really happening. As Angel held her though, his heart turned cold. Although Buffy's body still responded as it always had to him, he felt within her an indescribable sense of sadness and loss. Her eyes had no sparkle, no life, as if the real Buffy was not really there. He knew then that Buffy's body may have been brought back from the dead, but her heart and her soul had not yet joined her.

As they sat together on the clifftop, overlooking the ocean, Buffy had clung to Angel with a desperation he had never before seen. She had begged him to stay with her, to keep her safe. He had looked deeply into her eyes, then kissed her, his passion tinged with guilt and regret. Then he had told her that he loved her, but he could never meet that need - it would cost him his soul. The price was too great, so he let her go, telling her nothing had changed. And he went back to his shiny, new life.

Shuffling in the front seat, Cordy yawned and pulled herself up. "Sorry, Angel, I must have dozed off," she apologised sleepily. "Where are we?"

"Not far from Sunnydale now, we're about an hour away," he informed her, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Home sweet home," she opined sarcastically. "Can't wait to be back."

He half-heartedly nodded his agreement, not really listening to her chatter. His mind was now on other things, his stomach churning at the thought of seeing Buffy again. Damn Wolfram and Hart! Why did they have to complicate things when an apocalypse would have been so much more pleasant?

**********************

Lilah felt sick with fear. Not only was her career but her very life was in danger, and time was running out. She had to find a way to stall Wolfram and Hart. Casting this spell on Angel had been a huge risk, but she had felt it was a calculated one. She had spent months personally researching all the components of the Hejeban spell, checking all recorded instances of side effects and errors. She knew by heart every single possible outcome ever posited, including death of the victim, transdimensional rupture and even the strengthening of the victim in some way. The problem with this spell was that it was quite generic and was tricky to specifically target on weakening one aspect of a person's character. But Lilah had been assured that in a case as unique as Angel's, where he had a long history of brooding and a pesky soul to boot, it would be inevitable that his brooding would overtake his character.

Now all Lilah knew was that that had not happened. Wesley had enjoyed telling her she had messed up, but was not kind enough to let her know anymore of the details. She guessed he still had some morals - not much use to a lawyer with Wolfram and Hart. Still she had other methods of getting at the truth if mixing business with pleasure did not work, and she was all for being pro-active.

She gazed at herself critically in the mirror, smoothing her hair before applying a final coat of scarlet lipstick. If there was one thing Lilah had learnt in her life it was that when going to war, you put on your battle paint.

**********************

"I thought you'd still be here." Buffy picked up a cigarette butt and flicked it at Spike.

He slowly came out from behind the tree, his face resolvedly unapologetic. "How well you know me, slayer," he quipped tiredly. "Where's Peaches?"

"He's sleeping," Buffy replied. "I need your help."

"What again?" Spike exclaimed. "So what exactly do you want this time?"

Buffy glared at him, simmering him down to an obedient trot.

"I want you to do some recon, check out with some of your sources if they know what's going on with Angel," she said.

"What, trouble in paradise?" he taunted, quickly backing down as Buffy stepped threateningly towards him. "Okay, okay, I'll do it. Just tell me why."

"Because Angel has amnesia. He can't remember anything past Acathla and his return from hell. Because this is Angel and I need to know what's wrong," she answered, her voice wavering with emotion. "Just do it."

Spike nodded, then began to leave. "Buffy," he called.

She looked at him in askance.

"You always loved him, didn't you? You could never have loved me." Spike's voice was neutral, heartbreakingly factual.

She did not answer him; she did not need to. The look on her face said it all.

**********************

Buffy loved to watch Angel sleep. It was a pleasure she had been denied for too long. There was something utterly breathtaking watching all of the worries drift out of his face and be replaced by the peace of sleep. It was the only time she ever saw the truly relaxed side of Angel, where his defences were let down. Even if it was through sheer exhaustion, Buffy felt a sort of honour that she who had seen Angel in some of his most vulnerable moments, could witness this sight.

Letting out a huge yawn, she realised how tired she was herself. It had been a long day, and it was now well into the early hours. Not bothering to shed her clothes, she climbed into her bed beside Angel, and cuddled up against him.

"Goodnight sweetheart," she murmured, before drifting off into her own deep sleep.

**********************

Dawn let herself into the house. She had stayed over at Janice's the night before and neither had had much sleep. They were too busy trying to work out which guys in their class were the most eligible dating material, and who had the hots for who. Janice was convinced that Dawn was secretly obsessed with some dorky guy in their homeroom called Jack but Dawn had countered that it was Janice who had the crush. Janice had blushed and gone very quiet, abruptly changing the subject. Dawn knew she had scored a direct hit.

The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday. Even this early in the morning Buffy was as a rule up, making breakfast and roping Dawn into a workout session. Figuring Buffy must have had a heavy patrol, Dawn grabbed herself a juice and slumped in front of the TV.

From outside, Dawn heard a car pull up. Not paying any mind, she continued to flick channels, surfing through the endless realm of kids' cartoons. Suddenly she heard a frantic knocking on the door. She froze, perplexed, not knowing what to do. Gingerly she approached the door, and peeped through the glass. What she saw there surprised.

Huddled on her doorstep was Cordelia, a man covered in a blanket and 3 others she didn't know. Impatiently Cordy shouted, "Let us in, Buffy, unless you want your ex to fry-"

Dawn opened the door and looked quizzically at Cordy. "Dawnie," Cordy retracted quickly, pushing the blanketed Angel through the front door. "It's good to see you. How are you and Buffy?"

Dawn folded her arms. "What's going on?" she demanded, as Cordy and the others followed suit.

"I'll let you know just as soon as I do," Cordy retorted.

As Fred rushed into the living room, shutting all the curtains, Angel shucked off his blanket. "I need to speak to Buffy, Dawn," Angel told her.

"I don't think she's here," Dawn answered, still confused by Angel et al's presence in her house. "Wait in here while I check."

Her heart racing, Dawn sprinted up the stairs. Not bothering to knock, she burst into Buffy's room.

"Oh," Dawn mumbled as she saw Buffy curled up with a male figure. She began to back away, keeping her eyes shut.

"Dawnie?" Buffy called, her voice rising in panic. She quickly got out of bed and rushed towards her sister, awakening Angel in the process. Unnoticed by them both, he crept towards the door.

"It's not what you think," Buffy offered

Dawn looked at her sister in disgust. "Then tell me what I should think. I thought you were getting back with Spike."

"What?" Angel's voice was full of shock.

Dawn went pale. "How can you be with Angel? He's downstairs."

"What?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"No, he's not," said a voice behind her.

Dawn turned and flinched at the look of anger etched on his face. She had never seen Angel look so enraged.

"We need a little chat, Buffy. Starting with what you've been doing with Spike and why you've got a double of me in your bed," he growled, glowering at Buffy.

Hiding her absolute shock at the discovery of two Angels, she openly glared back at her ex, declaring, "That'd be my business." Totally ignoring him, she turned to the other Angel and led him back to the bed. "Don't worry about what Dawn said. I'll explain it all later. You need to rest," she soothed, prodding him to return to bed.

She gently closed the door behind her, then shoved her way past Angel. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to look at him.

"What are you playing at Buffy?" he demanded.

"I could ask you the same," she countered, alluding to his pass at Cordy. "But since we both want answers, how about you tell me why I'm getting two for the price of one?"

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