Angel strode purposely through the third graveyard of his patrol, keeping a sharp lookout for other vampires while he searched for spike. He was armed with a stake he'd made from a broken tree branch, and his thoughts were of Buffy. For some reason, he didn't feel like she was being totally honest about why she wanted to know where Spike was. One impossible thought kept pushing at his mind, but he dismissed it each time. *Buffy and Spike were not together like that.* he thought angrily. *Buffy would have mentioned it, and Spike would have taken the opportunity to gloat as fast as possible.* The gravestones and crypts were all beginning to look the same and Angel was beginning to look for a place to sleep during the day when he heard the sounds of fighting. Thinking that it might be Buffy on patrol, he ran toward the sounds. A feral growl escaped from one of the fighting vampires as Angel ran out into an opening of the crypts. Spike was surrounded by several of their kind, and was obviously wounded. He grabbed his side as one of the vampires struck him in the chin. Angel called his name and ran into the nearest vampire, striking him with his head bowed and his shoulders hunched. With a quick thrust of his stake, the vampire was dust. Grabbing another vampire around the neck, Angel swung him around until his back was against a monumental stone, and cracked his head on the rock. Tossing the dazed demon over his shoulder, he turned and staked another through the back, just as Buffy had taught him. Suddenly, Angel felt his legs being swept out from under him. He hit the ground hard, and rolled over to the left to avoid being kicked in the head. Slamming his foot around, he caught the vampire on the chin and snapped its neck.
"You ninny!" He dimly heard Spike call. "Why didn't you just dust it?!" Then there was a swirling of dust and Spike was standing above him, clutching his side. Angel looked around and noticed that Spike had taken out the remaining vamps, and he stumbled to his feet. "I had it under control," He growled. Spike just grinned. "Sure you did." He said in an arrogant sneer. Angel glared at him. "I wasn't the one who needed to be rescued, peroxide boy, you were!" He almost shouted the words, but managed to keep them at a low murmur instead. Spike shook his head. "Whatever, mate. What are you doing in town anyway? And before we get to the tearful reunion, I need to patch up the bloody hole in my side." He turned and strode away without waiting for a response. Angel stared after him for a minute, then remembered that he was supposed to be keeping tabs on Spike, and with a curse, Angel followed him. Spike noticed his stalker and turned to face Angel with a predatory grin. "Are we going to have to duke it out again? It seems like every bloody time you come waltzing into this town you have a hankering to get your ass beat. Although I would very much like to shove your duster down your throat, I do have a pressing engagement." Gesturing down at his side, Spike started walking again. Angle took a deep, unnecessary breath to calm himself down and followed Spike again. "Buffy sent me to find you!" He called out with as much hatred as he could muster. Spike stopped and slowly turned around to face him. There was a gleam in his eye now, and Angel wondered what had put it there. "You're such a nancy-boy, you know that?" He got up in Angel's face. "Why would she want to know where I am anyway? She doesn't need my help anymore than she needs yours. The slayer can take care of herself." Angel reached out and gripped Spike's red shirt collar and bent his head close, allowing his vampire features to show. "You'd love to see her dead, wouldn't you! I can't let that happen. If you think for one second that you are going to abandon her.." He trailed off, growling and panting with anger and restraint. Spike looked him strait in the eye. "Abandoning her is what you're good at," he said with a sneer. "Why don't you just get the hell out of her life for good?" All control left Angel then. His conscious seemed to take a vacation. His eyes were covered with a white mist that was tinged with red. He felt his fists fly out to collide with Spike's cold body again and again. Each time, his mind screamed at him, * you had to leave! You did it for Buffy! * It pounded in his head in perfect time to the collision with Spike's bloody side and face.