Chapter Eight
Spike pulled up the collar on his duster and made with the moody. Entering Willy's Bar was no mean feat with all the bad feeling towards him from the demon quarter, so Spike knew a tough appearance was an advantage. So was the knowledge he could wipe the floor with any of the losers in here. He knew they knew it and he relished the power. Having to stop himself from becoming too cocky, Spike grimaced. Think of Buffy doing that poof, he told himself sternly. That soon wiped the smile off his face.
Still he wondered why he did all this for Buffy, when he got nothing in return. His behaviour hardly made sense to him: he was not exactly a selfless creature. He was what he was: a soulless demon, straight up. And she was the slayer. That is what it had been originally - an obsession, a slayer fixation. Now he felt a strange sense of love for the girl, a fiery, burning passion that drove his every action. There was a fine line between love and hate; perhaps that was the key to it all. Whatever, he realised it was not what Buffy wanted or needed. What they had had was not love. Not that it made the rejection any easier.
So he sort of accepted they would never be lovers, but he could never really be her friend either. However, he would always do his best by her - whatever that meant.
"Those the two," Spike spat at Clem.
Clem nodded, slightly nervously, and began to back away. Spike gave him a small smile, giving Clem his permission to leave - which Clem gladly did.
Spike grinned over at two vampires hunkered conspiratorially around a small table in the corner. "Well boys, what do we have here?"
The two vampires stared meanly up at him, barely flinching. "Get out of here, loser," growled the stockier of the two.
Spike paused, as if weighing up the remark, unhurriedly lighting his cigarette. "That's no way to greet a stranger," he retorted. "Seems you need to be taught how we do things round here."
The stockier vampire began to move towards Spike menacingly, as his smaller counterpart looked on at them both with faint amusement. It was then Spike realised who was boss.
Changing tact, Spike pushed the stocky vamp out of the way. "Ok, how about we lose the monkey and start talking to the organ grinder?"
The smaller vamp arched an eyebrow. "And I would do that why?"
Opening his coat to reveal a stake, Spike glared at the vamp. "Maybe you don't get dead."
The smaller vamp defiantly folded his arms and sneered, "I got nothing to say."
In a flash, Spike had the vampire by the throat, the stake poised over his chest. "Well, maybe this will inspire you," he countered.
The vamp gazed up at his Spike, real fear showing in his eyes. The stockier vamp had long since scarpered, leaving the small vamp on his own.
"Okay," Spike began, pressing the stake against the vamp's sternum. "I see you're ready to talk. So let's start with what you know about Angel."
"Nothing," the vamp spluttered a little too quickly.
Spike slammed his elbow into the vamp's nose, bringing a bright rush of blood. "Remembering yet?"
"Okay," the vamp wheedled, smarting involuntarily at the blow. "I'm here to watch some dude called Angel, see where he goes, what he does. That's all I know."
Spike shook his head, laughing callously. "You think I buy that crap?" Spike punched him hard. "Who sent you?"
"Some demon. He said he cast a spell… Please, that's all I know."
Dragging him to his feet, Spike almost heaved at the vampire's pathetic snivelling. He was a disgrace to the undead everywhere.
"It's your lucky day. You're going to take me to this demon. And if you're really lucky, you'll do it in one piece," Spike taunted almost jauntily. This was almost beginning to be fun.
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Somehow Buffy had managed to persuade LA Angel to leave her bedroom and return downstairs. She had begun with a simple request, but at his dogged resistance, had turned to repeated pleas. She had reasoned with him that she needed time to talk with Willow and the other Angel, but LA Angel had answered he wanted to talk himself, his voice very near to shouting. It was then that Buffy had gently pointed out that right now, it was the other Angel who needed her most; he was the one who had been thrown into a world 3 years into the future from his own time and he who needed answers most. With a firm push from Buffy and one glance from Willow, Angel had finally given in and left.
Relieved, Buffy sat back on the bed, and grasped the hand of the other Angel. "Hey, how you doing?"
"I'll be alright," he replied stoically, squeezing her hand tightly.
"You know Willow's here to help, don't you?" Buffy asked him gently.
Angel glanced up at Willow, and took in her pale appearance and worried expression. "I get it."
Willow gave him a tiny smile, and stood up. "I'm glad, you know, cos not exactly the warmest welcome to be thrown up the wall. Usually I go with hi."
Buffy tightened her grip on Angel's body as she felt the tension in his body. She wished she knew what he was thinking right now, so she could reassure him. But she knew that was fruitless - there was nothing she could say.
"So what happens now?" he asked without preamble. Buffy almost smiled at his directness. It was never like this Angel to bite the bullet unless he was forced to. She thought fondly back to the night of her 17th birthday when he had given her the claddagh ring and he had fumblingly avoided saying the "L" word. But still she had known and that was all that had mattered to her right then.
Willow glanced nervously at Buffy, breaking her reverie. In her mind, she heard Willow's voice, asking her what she was going to say. Mentally Buffy shrugged, not sure how to field his question, leaving the hard work to her friend.
Willow brushed her red hair back behind her ears and swallowed. "Well, uhm, that kind of depends on why there are two of you… And how we can, y'know, resolve that, I guess."
Angel sighed and let go of Buffy's hand, staring out towards the shuttered window. "That's what I thought."
Buffy reached towards Angel, but he moved away. "Angel-"
"No, Buffy," he answered pained. "I can't hear this right now. Just… I need to be on my own."
Buffy looked helplessly at Willow, her eyes tearing up. Willow touched her arm. "Come on," she murmured, leaving the room. Buffy gazed at Angel for a moment, then seeing his resolve, quietly shut the door as she went.
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Dawn gave Angel a sympathetic look as she saw him sat on his own at the table. The LA gang were busy researching or otherwise catching a few minutes sleep in the case of Cordelia. Otherwise she realised that no one had noticed his temporary absence.
"Hey," she greeted him, as she took a seat opposite him.
Angel looked up at the younger Summers sister and gave her a wry look. "So, great day, huh?"
Dawn shrugged her shoulders. "Had worse."
Angel was hit then by a sudden memory of Buffy having exactly the same nonchalance. He looked at Dawn then with new eyes, noting how in some ways, she was very similar to her older sister. She had the same stubborn streak, courage and sincerity that Buffy had always exhibited but unlike her sister, was completely and utterly devoid of tact.
Dawn was now looking at him strangely and Angel realised he had been staring. "Sorry," he offered weakly. "Got a lot on my mind."
"So I can see," Dawn said, all too pointedly. "So what's going on with you and Buffy?"
Angel was gobsmacked. This he had not been expecting at all. "What?"
"Well, you were up there for ages. We heard shouting, lots of banging. Figured you and Buffy were into something," Dawn replied nonplussed.
Angel glared up at her. "There is nothing, and I repeat, nothing, going on between Buffy and me. The only person she's got eyes for is my evil twin."
"Ooh, touched a nerve there," Dawn teased. "And by the way, he's not evil."
"So," Angel countered sulkily. "Suddenly he's Mr Perfect round here."
Dawn looked at this centuries old vampire in amazement. He had a nerve coming back here and playing the victim. "For your information, he's perfect compared to you," Dawn began heatedly. "You walked out on my sister, when she would have given up anything to be with you. And worse than that, you forgot her! So don't come here and act like she should give you any of her time when you've never been there for her."
As Dawn stalked out of the dining room in a storm of self-righteous anger on her sister's behalf, Angel gazed down at his hands in a show of shame. He had not realised that he had stirred up so much resentment in Sunnydale - not just by leaving, but by trying to separate his entire existence from Buffy's. Of course, he had reasoned it was with the best of intentions, but now all he could see was a huge tangle of emotional turmoil. Why did he always have to do the wrong thing?
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Willow and Buffy sat in the basement meditating. Willow held her best friend's hand gently, and tried to imbue a calming influence upon her. However, Buffy's concentration was shattered, and Willow could feel the deep unease within her. It was then that Willow decided it was time to make Buffy talk.
"Buff, what's going on?" Willow asked her friend.
With that, Buffy put her head in her hand and began to cry. "I don't know, Will. I'm so confused! I finally got back the love of my life and now I'm going to lose him. Again!" Buffy snuffled.
Willow put her arms around Buffy and hugged hard. "Oh, Buffy. I'm sorry."
"I can't do it to him, Will, I can't send him back," Buffy cried. "I don't care what anyone wants, I'm not going to lose him!"
Willow regarded her friend sadly. "Buffy, I don't want to be the one who says this, but it's not just about you and er - 'Angel'. What about 'LA Angel'? I think he's freaked by there being two of him."
Buffy shook her head defiantly. "Well, once he's found out what's going on with the spell, he'll go. Then it won't matter whether there's two of him or not."
Willow almost laughed at the absurdity of Buffy's logic. "You can't just keep him, Buffy. He doesn't belong here - unfortunately."
Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Will, I'm always doing the right thing, always sacrificing. But what do I ever do for me?" Buffy lamented softly. "I've died twice and next time I probably won't come back. What if I never get this chance again?"
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Xander let himself into the Summers home quietly. He had spent all day at work thinking about his argument with Buffy and what Spike had said afterwards about letting it go. As much as he hated to admit it, Spike was right. All Buffy ever did was fight and look after Dawn - what sort of life was that for a 22 year old? Everyone deserved a little happiness, especially Buffy; and he knew, better than anyone, that for her, Angel was it. So, so be it.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a young thin woman, with long, dark brown hair, pour herself a juice from the fridge.
"Who the hell are you?" Xander demanded.
The woman screamed, and with that a green demon and an incredibly angry looking man ran in to her rescue.
"And who the hell are you?" the man countered, clutching the woman defensively to him.
"It's okay, Charles," she told him, looking at Xander with suspicion.
"What's going on in here?" Angel asked, coming into the kitchen after the sudden noise. Spotting Xander, he motioned for the others to step down. "Hey Xander."
"Angel," Xander greeted unenthusiastically. "Bring your crew?"
"Yeah," Angel replied, relaxing a little. "This is Lorne, Fred and Gunn."
Xander nodded at them briefly, before asking, "Buffy around?"
"She's down in the basement with Willow," Angel replied.
Xander's face turned white. "What?"
Ignoring the others' protests, he stormed towards the basement. Descending halfway, he stopped as he saw Willow hugging Buffy tightly.
"You're back," he stated flatly.
Willow looked up at Xander, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "Xander."
As she stood and moved towards the stairs, Xander suddenly turned and left, pushing past Angel as he went.
"Xander, wait!" Angel called.
"Not now," Xander answered, his voice breaking.
Angel walked to the top of the basement stairs, and watched on helplessly as Willow was wracked with tears that Buffy could do nothing to soothe.
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