CHAPTER 9
"She gives me love
Love, love, love
Crazy love"
-Aaron Neville, "Crazy Love"
"What do you mean you don't know? Aren't watchers supposed to know all sorts of stuff? Giles, you're a librarian. You've read all those books."
Giles could tell Buffy was very frustrated by his statement, but there had never been a case like this before. It was true, he didn't know what to do.
"Buffy, vampires falling ill isn't something I was trained for. In fact, it's quite impossible. Illness is caused by germs in one's environment and the body's reaction to them but a vampire's body is not alive so they aren't harmed... usually."
Letting out a large sigh, Buffy ran her hands through her hair in frustration. Giles was clueless, so where did that leave Angel?
"Okay. Then why does Angel have one?"
The watcher shook his head, perplexed. "I don't know."
***
Buffy spent the rest of the day in the apartment, watching over Angel's bedside. His condition hadn't changed and he remained in a deep sleep until around eleven o'clock that evening when he finally woke up.
He blinked a few times before his mind cleared enough to focus. When he realized he was safe at home, he noticed a very unusual thing. Buffy was there with him.
"Buffy?" he asked groggily.
He felt very odd, cold but at the same time extremely warm. It was something he hadn't experienced in hundreds of years, since he was human.
"Hey," she said quietly, forcing herself to smile for his benefit. Giles had spent some time at the library going over his books but come up with nothing. She had finally sent him home and told him to get some rest. He had a job to go to, after all. "How are you feeling?"
"Cold," he answered, shivering involuntarily.
His whole body seemed to be acting against him. The only thing he couldn't understand was why?
Buffy stood up and pulled the blanket up over his arms and up to his chin. "Better?"
"A little. What happened? Why are you here?"
He wasn't complaining but why wasn't she at home? It was, after all, a school night.
"Angel, you're sick," she told him, checking his forehead again. Still warm.
"What?" Pushing himself up with his arms, Angel sat up and leaned against his pillow. "Vampires don't get sick."
"Yeah, well you did," she told him, her maternal instincts kicking in. "And you still are. Do you want me to get you anything? You haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours. Do you want me to get you... anything?"
She looked at him, not sure of what to say, and he shook his head. "Could you get me a glass of water? Tap's fine and there are some glasses in the cabinet."
"Sure."
Getting up, Buffy walked over to Angel's small makeshift kitchen and got a small glass of water. Bringing it back to him, she watched quietly as he took small sips until the glass was emptied.
"Thanks," he said, handing it back to her. For the moment, Buffy put it on the floor beside her and went back to her patient. "You know," he told her. "You remind me a lot of my mother."
Buffy smiled and gently pushed the hair off his forehead. "Really?" she asked, intrigued.
Maybe she didn't know how much her touch affected him, or maybe she did, but it took Angel a while to answer. "She was a very headstrong woman who wouldn't let anyone push her around."
"And that's how you think of me?"
Angel smiled weakly at her and nodded. "'The definition of an iron fist in a velvet glove.' That's what my father called her," he said drowsily. "She would have liked you." His eyelids started to droop, and Buffy could tell he was getting tired.
"Why don't you lie down and try to get some sleep?" she suggested, helping him lie down. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Closing his eyes, Angel nodded against his pillow. He was feeling a bit tired.
"Yeah, she would have liked you," he murmured before falling back asleep...
"She gives me love
Love, love, love
Crazy love"
-Aaron Neville, "Crazy Love"
"What do you mean you don't know? Aren't watchers supposed to know all sorts of stuff? Giles, you're a librarian. You've read all those books."
Giles could tell Buffy was very frustrated by his statement, but there had never been a case like this before. It was true, he didn't know what to do.
"Buffy, vampires falling ill isn't something I was trained for. In fact, it's quite impossible. Illness is caused by germs in one's environment and the body's reaction to them but a vampire's body is not alive so they aren't harmed... usually."
Letting out a large sigh, Buffy ran her hands through her hair in frustration. Giles was clueless, so where did that leave Angel?
"Okay. Then why does Angel have one?"
The watcher shook his head, perplexed. "I don't know."
***
Buffy spent the rest of the day in the apartment, watching over Angel's bedside. His condition hadn't changed and he remained in a deep sleep until around eleven o'clock that evening when he finally woke up.
He blinked a few times before his mind cleared enough to focus. When he realized he was safe at home, he noticed a very unusual thing. Buffy was there with him.
"Buffy?" he asked groggily.
He felt very odd, cold but at the same time extremely warm. It was something he hadn't experienced in hundreds of years, since he was human.
"Hey," she said quietly, forcing herself to smile for his benefit. Giles had spent some time at the library going over his books but come up with nothing. She had finally sent him home and told him to get some rest. He had a job to go to, after all. "How are you feeling?"
"Cold," he answered, shivering involuntarily.
His whole body seemed to be acting against him. The only thing he couldn't understand was why?
Buffy stood up and pulled the blanket up over his arms and up to his chin. "Better?"
"A little. What happened? Why are you here?"
He wasn't complaining but why wasn't she at home? It was, after all, a school night.
"Angel, you're sick," she told him, checking his forehead again. Still warm.
"What?" Pushing himself up with his arms, Angel sat up and leaned against his pillow. "Vampires don't get sick."
"Yeah, well you did," she told him, her maternal instincts kicking in. "And you still are. Do you want me to get you anything? You haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours. Do you want me to get you... anything?"
She looked at him, not sure of what to say, and he shook his head. "Could you get me a glass of water? Tap's fine and there are some glasses in the cabinet."
"Sure."
Getting up, Buffy walked over to Angel's small makeshift kitchen and got a small glass of water. Bringing it back to him, she watched quietly as he took small sips until the glass was emptied.
"Thanks," he said, handing it back to her. For the moment, Buffy put it on the floor beside her and went back to her patient. "You know," he told her. "You remind me a lot of my mother."
Buffy smiled and gently pushed the hair off his forehead. "Really?" she asked, intrigued.
Maybe she didn't know how much her touch affected him, or maybe she did, but it took Angel a while to answer. "She was a very headstrong woman who wouldn't let anyone push her around."
"And that's how you think of me?"
Angel smiled weakly at her and nodded. "'The definition of an iron fist in a velvet glove.' That's what my father called her," he said drowsily. "She would have liked you." His eyelids started to droop, and Buffy could tell he was getting tired.
"Why don't you lie down and try to get some sleep?" she suggested, helping him lie down. "I'll be here when you wake up."
Closing his eyes, Angel nodded against his pillow. He was feeling a bit tired.
"Yeah, she would have liked you," he murmured before falling back asleep...
