Escape
Chapter Four: Surprise

Buffy cast Angel a sidelong glance, ever since that morning, he had been avoiding her, intoning one-word answers and shooting her dark looks every so often. It was starting to grate on her nerves and her nerves had had enough grating over the past couple of months to last her a lifetime.

"Hey, B," Faith said, nudging Buffy's elbow. "Wanna fill me in?"

"On what?" Buffy asked, turning to look at Faith, who yawned. "Hey, shouldn't you be in bed? Robin told me you haven't been sleeping much at the hospital."

"Well, I couldn't, could I? Not with him and the girls needing protection," but Faith's eyes left hers and unless Buffy was very much mistaken, Faith almost blushed.

"Uh-huh," Buffy nodded slowly. "Sure it wasn't because you wanted to keep an eye on your honey?"

"I don't have a honey," Faith replied with a shrug.

"And that's why you held a certain hot young Principal's hand all the way from Sunnydale to LA," Buffy said, shooting Faith a wry glance before studying her nails.

"Oh, don't start that game with me, Buffy," Faith warned. "Otherwise, I'll have to break out the big guns," Buffy frowned at that, not knowing what Faith meant. Faith's mouth quirked in a victorious smile. "What's wrong with you and Angel? Giles said you were getting along great when he picked us up from the hospital this morning, now you're acting like the mortal enemies you oughta be."

"Faith, you really don't know what you're talking about," Buffy responded softly.

"So now I know I've hit a sore spot. You'd only say I don't know what I'm talking about when I do," Faith said. "But I'm guessing you don't want any advice from me."

"For once, you're right," Buffy snapped.

Faith shrugged and stood up, moving to leave the office they had been occupying when Buffy grabbed her arm.

"Look," Buffy said, trying to glare, but not quite accomplishing it. "I don't care what you think or what you think I should do about what you think is going on, but I'm… curious, ok?" she lowered her eyes and fought her blush furiously.

"B, you're the one that's always saying people should talk, it's not always about the fighting. Personally, I think you should hit him 'til he tells you what's wrong. But, I guess you should talk to him. Ask him what's going on. Trust me, he'll crack under the pressure. Especially from you."

And with that, Faith pulled her arm from Buffy's hand and left the room. Buffy drew in a deep breath and marched out of the office, across the lobby and up the stairs to Angel's room.

Faith opened the door and it creaked. She hissed a curse and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Faith."

She heard the voice and knew by its gruffness that he had been asleep. She watched a vague shadow on the bed struggle into an upright position and she hurried toward him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Thought the doc told you to rest?" she asked.

"Who closed the curtains?" he asked, ignoring her question and continuing to ease himself upright.

"I did," she answered. "Want me to open 'em?"

He nodded and she turned away from him, tugging the dusty curtains open, allowing sunlight to flood the room. When she turned back to him, she swallowed hard. He was topless and his chest was exposed above the sheets. She remembered the feel of that chest beneath her lips and fingertips and she remembered the feel of those arms around her. She forced down the wish that she could feel it again and adopted a cocky stance with her hands on her hips.

"You feeling better?" she asked. "'Cause, y'know, you promised me you'd surprise me."

"Yeah, y'know, I'm actually starting to regret that," he laughed gently, wincing as he did so.

"You are?" she wondered why that made her stomach lurch, it wasn't like she had everything staked on this one guy. She never did that with any guy.

What made this guy so special?

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "You got any idea how hard it is to come up with an idea that would surprise you? You've probably seen everything."

She allowed her arms to drop from her hips and shrugged with a smile.

"Not as much as you might think," she replied. "I've never seen Vegas, for one thing..."

The door swung open and Angel spared a second to pity the hinges that were already creaking in their old age. He looked up from the book he was reading to see Buffy glaring at him from the doorway, hands on her hips. Uh-oh. That was never a good sign. He closed the book slowly and was about to stand, to go toward her and reach out to her, ask her what was wrong.

"Before he died, I told Spike I loved him. And I meant it."

As he remembered her words, he stayed resolutely in his seat. He wasn't going to comfort her because she lost Spike. Of all people. Of all vampires!

"Ok, so are you going to tell me what's wrong?" she asked.

"There's nothing wrong," he asked.

"Don't give me that, Angel, I know you. What changed between this morning and this afternoon?"

"I've been busy. I've got Wesley on my back about this Wolfram and Hart thing. Sorry if I didn't have a chance to let you in on all that."

"You know that's not what I mean," Buffy sighed and she came in further into the room and closed the door behind her. "Why are you acting weird with me?"

"I'm not," he replied stubbornly.

He had obviously been away from her too long. He had forgotten how much him not talking to her wound her up. If there was one thing she had always disliked about their relationship, it was his tendency to keep things to himself rather than confide in her that annoyed her the most. So, lying to her when they both knew she knew there was something wrong was a bad move.

"Yes, you are," she spaced out the words deliberately. "I don't want to fight with you, but I want you to talk to me. So what's wrong, Angel?"

There was a note of pleading in her voice and he stood up to face her.

"It's not you," he told her. "It's nothing you've done. It's me."

"Well, you're up to date," she scoffed. "I guess you've had plenty of time to catch up on stupid lines like that."

"Just like you had time to fall in love with a murderer!" he retorted sharply.

She blinked, then he saw understanding fill her eyes, followed quickly by horror.

"Angel -" she said softly, reaching for his arm.

"No, Buffy," he snapped, pulling back from her. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm not big into discussing my feelings. And I'm really not into talking about that. So just leave it alone."

"I won't," she answered. "I won't leave it like this," but he was walking away from her and she went after him. "Will you just let me explain?"

"I don't want you to!" he said in frustration. "I heard it all before, remember? I remember every word. You're cookie dough, you're not baked yet, Spike's in your heart. I remember all of that. But I just thought you cared. I never even imagined that you could love him. And what does that mean? Does that mean if he hadn't died, you'd have been cookies or whatever the hell you wanna call it, with him? Huh? Was he your oven? Did I even figure into -"

But he stopped as she grabbed his upper arms and gave him a hard shake to shut him up. Her fingers dug into his arms and he opened his mouth to tell her she was kind of hurting him when her grip relaxed. The hard stare she had fixed him with softened and one hand ran up his arm to his neck. And then she tiptoed and pulled him down into a kiss. He sank into her arms, pulling her closer.

And as he kissed her, he realised how much he had missed her all these years. When they kissed in Sunnydale, his mind was still half on what he had just done so his son could have a life, Cordelia's condition and the impending doom about to befall Sunnydale. But now, with nothing to worry him apart from the low ache of loss he felt ever since he gave his son up, he could allow himself to realise that he never felt more alive than he did when she kissed him.

And it wasn't right.

He didn't know why she kissing him. But he did know that - however odd the cookie analogy - she was right. She wasn't done baking yet. And he wasn't willing to allow whatever would happen next happen until she was complete on her own, only wanting him because she loved him.

He pulled away and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed and a slight smile curved her lips that were full and dark red from kissing. She opened her eyes when she realised he was staring at her and felt her heart sink. Oh, no…

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I can't… We can't… Not now."

And he brushed passed her, grabbing his jacket that hung over the back of a chair and practically ran from the room.

Leaving Buffy standing in the middle of the room, her hands shaking.

She had tracked him to a neat little street that reminded her of Revello Drive. She really should have just let him go, let him clear his head. But then there would be the awkwardness that she had wanted to clear up when she had gone to him earlier. And that had ended so well.

She still didn't know why she kissed him. Maybe it was because she didn't want to wait until she was complete. Maybe because she just wanted him because she remembered how when she was a teenager everything had seemed right when he was with her.

She cast her gaze restlessly around her surroundings. Why the hell would he come here? Did he buy himself a house so that he could escape from the others for a while? Somehow a house in the suburbs didn't seem quite Angel's style. She glanced to one side and paused.

There was a tree in the front yard of one house. And unless she was very much mistaken, the big black lump in the tree, was not a bird's nest.

She frowned, wondering at Angel's sudden urge to bond with nature as she crossed the street and crept across the yard. She peered up at him and shrugged. Well, she figured that he couldn't yell at her if they were up a tree in the middle of someone's front yard. So she grabbed hold of the trunk and placed her foot onto a low branch, hauling herself up. She climbed the tree quickly and nimbly, drawing level with Angel in a matter of seconds. He hadn't heard her and didn't notice her until it was too late and she had climbed up beside him.

He stared at her in horror and glanced to the side. She followed his gaze through the thick foliage that obscured them both from view, into a lit window and watched as a teenage boy paced his room, talking on the phone and laughing.

She frowned at Angel.

"Want to tell me what the hell's going on?" she asked in a low voice.