A/N – I haven't watched Angel in the longest time, and don't plan on it till next year. Excuse his storylines, for they may only pop in and out.
~*~*~*~
Cordy went and knocked on the door. "Time to get cleaned up you." Cordelia called in. "Open the door Angel."
He did and she followed him back to the bed, beginning to access his injuries. "Buffy called." She said patching up his eyebrow. His face scrunched. "Ew stop, you are making more blood ooze."
"Is she okay?" He asked.
"I wouldn't know, was kind of talking to her when I was in the middle of something." She pulled down her fashionable, but cheap turtle neck, revealing a large, demon-y arm shaped bruise, multi-colored on her neck. Angel made another face as to symbolize 'ouch'.
"Angel! More ooze, stop or I am so using the stingy medicine on you," She finished his face and wrapped up his stomach. "When I am done...you should call her back."
"I will."
~Angel's pov~
I play with the phone in my hands. I wonder what you look like now. Are you still that scared little girl, who was limp under the ever-so-stylish tank and jeans? The one who had just been ripped out of heaven (yeah... I just happen to believe there is no way in the world you were in a place *I* was damned to) your eyes were dark and cold, and I had changed myself into such a different person, a dorky happy guy after you died to mask the unbearable pain to my friends. So much that I couldn't bear to look into those eyes that were so cold and scared.
I know about you and Spike. Every time I think about it, a rage runs through my veins as my eyes turn gold. You may have made a mistake but Spike worked on that. He has a soul now. And you care for him…so I won't kill him.
Finally I dial the number I know so well.
"Hello?" A young girl with an accent asks. I can't put my finger on what.
"Um...hello? May I speak with Buffy please" I ask, playing with the phone cord.
"Oh I'm sorry. She's out with some principle guy. Can I take a message?"
"Just tell her that Angel called?" I asked.
I wish I knew what was going on with you...
~*~*~*~
Cordy went and knocked on the door. "Time to get cleaned up you." Cordelia called in. "Open the door Angel."
He did and she followed him back to the bed, beginning to access his injuries. "Buffy called." She said patching up his eyebrow. His face scrunched. "Ew stop, you are making more blood ooze."
"Is she okay?" He asked.
"I wouldn't know, was kind of talking to her when I was in the middle of something." She pulled down her fashionable, but cheap turtle neck, revealing a large, demon-y arm shaped bruise, multi-colored on her neck. Angel made another face as to symbolize 'ouch'.
"Angel! More ooze, stop or I am so using the stingy medicine on you," She finished his face and wrapped up his stomach. "When I am done...you should call her back."
"I will."
~Angel's pov~
I play with the phone in my hands. I wonder what you look like now. Are you still that scared little girl, who was limp under the ever-so-stylish tank and jeans? The one who had just been ripped out of heaven (yeah... I just happen to believe there is no way in the world you were in a place *I* was damned to) your eyes were dark and cold, and I had changed myself into such a different person, a dorky happy guy after you died to mask the unbearable pain to my friends. So much that I couldn't bear to look into those eyes that were so cold and scared.
I know about you and Spike. Every time I think about it, a rage runs through my veins as my eyes turn gold. You may have made a mistake but Spike worked on that. He has a soul now. And you care for him…so I won't kill him.
Finally I dial the number I know so well.
"Hello?" A young girl with an accent asks. I can't put my finger on what.
"Um...hello? May I speak with Buffy please" I ask, playing with the phone cord.
"Oh I'm sorry. She's out with some principle guy. Can I take a message?"
"Just tell her that Angel called?" I asked.
I wish I knew what was going on with you...
