A/N: This chapter turned out a LOT different than I expected. I had a plan…and then my fingers took control of the keyboard and threw it out the window. I am trying to establish a story in canon here, and so I had to take "current" events (and, unfortunately, Spike) into account. There will be an Angel/Buffy confrontation to come…just not in this chapter, sorry to disappoint.
Thank you to TheSecondEvil, Queen Boadicea, and AnGeL GiRl9 for reviewing. It is for you loyal fans that I write for.
Chapter Nine: What Lies BeneathAngel stood at the doorway of Buffy's room, watching her sleep. Willow had gone to bed about an hour earlier, after finishing her Latin homework with a little bit of Angel's help (in the more than two centuries he'd "lived", he'd found it useful to know most root languages, Latin among them) and Angel had left awkwardly when she subtlety hinted to him that she wanted to put on her pajamas, preferably alone.
From there, he'd wandered downstairs and looked around. Different pictures, different adornments. Small changes, but they innately seemed to mean more than their seeming insignificance. He'd walked into the kitchen, finding an empty container of fudge mint cookie dough ice cream and smiled at the memory that only he held in a protected corner of his heart.
It was this corner that brought him, the quiet vigilante, the compassionate friend, the wishful lover, here to her side. She had stopped twisting and turning a while ago, although her soft, beautiful features still hung in concern. He knew her face, even now. He wouldn't admit it, but the moment he saw her he was in love. And in his quiet way, from that moment on, he would watch her, just like this. She never knew how much he loved her—still loved her. She didn't know he was always watching, always waiting. He barely knew how deep their connection was and didn't dare scratch that surface for fear of losing himself in her again.
But he did. He always did. The moment she smiled, the moment their hands brushed, he fell in love again. He treasured her; she was his Slayer. It didn't matter about Riley or any other guy she got involved with. Deep down, he always felt like she was his as much as he was hers. And that's why this whole situation hurt so much. The fact that, however inadvertently, he'd caused her pain tore him up inside. Sure, technically it was Xander's fault, Angel was one of those guilty souls that walk the earth blaming everything on themselves. And Angelus was a source of limitless shame.
Angelus was like an evil twin that lived inside, fighting to be in control of everything. What sickened Angel is when Angelus won; those victories, however rare, held the strongest bind on Angel, constricting him with his blameworthy pain. The fact that Angelus had fueled this much turmoil after the fact made Angelus rile up with a glee that Angel hurriedly suppressed.
Angel watched as Buffy turned slightly, her features now masked opposite of his careful gaze. Although it felt natural to just watch her and relish in it, he decided that the last thing Buffy needed was to wake up with a notion that her ex-boyfriend was "going stalker-y" on her. He went downstairs, closing both sets of curtains, and took off his duster. Slowly he lowered himself onto the cushions of the living room couch, throwing his duster over himself like a blanket for protection, and fell into a welcome, but troubled sleep.
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Beep. Beep. Beep. "Crap."
Dawn woke up grouchily, turning off the annoying Beep from Hell. She hadn't finished all of her geometry the night before (how could she with Buffy yelling at Willow and Xander?) so she'd set her alarm an hour earlier than normal to finish. It was still dark when she woke up.
She sat up, rummaging lazily to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Spitting out the foul-tasting brand-name whitener/gingivitis fighter/stain repeller, she gargled down a half-cup of water before almost choking on it when she heard a noise from downstairs. Grabbing a stake (even though Buffy didn't admit it was because of Spike, she'd hidden a few stakes around the bathroom that Dawn tended to stumble upon when emptying the hamper or getting out a new roll of toilet paper from under the sink), Dawn cautiously moved down the stairs.
The door wasn't open, Dawn realized, relieved. But that didn't mean anything was in the house. She slowly went through the dining room, the kitchen, and then she heard another noise in the living room. She rushed in, seeing a man-sized figure under a duster. Spike, she thought in a frenzied rage. She ran up to him, lifting the stake and turning him to get a clean cut to his heart.
The man's eyes opened and he held Dawn's wrist tightly. "Dawn?"
Dawn let out a shocked yelp as her eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God. Angel. I am SO sorry." She moved away, dropping the stake. "I just thought—Spike…"
"Spike? I'll pretend to not be offended." Angel sat up.
"Hey, I didn't expect you to be here…on our couch." Dawn looked at him awkwardly. "Um…don't you have evil things to fight in L.A.?"
"Yeah, but I need Willow's help for something." He looked her up and down. He hadn't seen Dawn in years. Okay, technically, he'd NEVER seen Dawn, but the memories of her were pretty real. Despite the technicalities, she'd certainly grown up from the little girl who admired her sister to no end and had an inexplicable crush on Xander. "Well, um…you've, uh, grown."
Dawn blushed slightly. "Yeah. For a former mystical ball of energy, I think I turned out alright."
A sudden pounding of footsteps came from the stairs as Buffy appeared onto the first floor, her face concerned. "Dawn? Where are you?"
"Uh, hi?" Dawn waved slightly from her spot beside Angel.
Buffy turned to the voice and sighed in relief. "Are you okay? I heard you yelling."
"Oh, well, it's a long story. But it ends with Angel being on our couch. Did you know this?"
Buffy smiled. "Vaguely." She turned to Angel. "Did Willow help you?"
Angel stood up, walking to face Buffy. "Yeah, but she said she needed to get some ingredients. If it was wrong of me to stay the night—"
"It's no problem, really. But Dawn needs to get ready for school"—Buffy glared at Dawn, who sighed and rushed upstairs—"and Willow should be getting ready to head out too."
"What about you? I wanted to talk with you."
Buffy felt vaguely aware of what he wanted to talk to her about, but wanted to avoid the topic at all costs. "We can talk tonight. By day, I have a job. And while it's not working for the Daily Planet, it certainly suffices income and stress-wise. I work at Sunnydale High as a counselor."
Angel tried to mask the shock on his face. "Sunnydale High? Counselor?"
"Yeah. I help kids with their troubles. I am a listening ear in an ignorant world. And yes, while that is not my line but my handbook's, I thoroughly believe in my job. Although I kinda miss the free burgers at Doublemeat Palace." Buffy lopsidedly grinned, and then her eyes glazed over in thought. "Actually, I may have a job for you. I was going to ask Xander, but…" Buffy shook herself of the thought. "If you're up to it, we better hurry while it's still sort of dark."
"Whatever you want me to do, I'll do." Angel burned this truth into their gaze.
Buffy bit her lip. "You probably aren't going to like it."
"If you want me to, I'll do it. Anything."
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"From beneath you it devours….From beneath you it…" Spike laughed frantically, grasping at invisible clues. It was a circus of fools, laughing and shouting and scolding and yelling and tearing. Too many people talking and not talking to themselves… "Buffys come in pairs of twos, one who cares and one who's you."
"Spike," Buffy said, pulling him up and holding his gaze. "You need to get out of here. The Hellmouth is driving you insane. Now I'm having someone take you out of here, okay? Are you listening?"
Spike looked off, not into her eyes but right behind her into nothingness. "He doesn't listen. He kept ripping into her heart. William is bad. A bad, bad man. He hurt the girl." He faced Buffy. "Of course, princess. To you and all your little friends that never…stop…talking." Spike looked around. "Who's the lucky git?"
Angel walked out of the shadows, disgust marked on his face. "Oh, this is going to be fun," he murmured.
"Oh, and I must be getting madder by the minute. First my bitchy lover, now my bitchy sire. What kind of namby-pamby…get out of my head!" Spike grabbed his peroxide-bleached hair in frustration.
Buffy sighed and turned to Angel. "I warned you. Just get him to the house, okay? I don't want him staying here. I don't need him any crazier than he is normally."
As Buffy headed up the stairs, Angel asked her, "His lover?"
Buffy frowned guiltily and kept going up the stairs. Angel hid the pang in his heart and turned to Spike, grabbing him tightly and without remorse. "Oh, this is going to be fun," he repeated sourly, dragging the muttering vamp along in his stride.
Ugh. Spike. What terrors will occur now that he's back? Where the heck has Xander been for the past few chapters? Tune in next time to find out!