Chapter 10
Her heavy eyelids had fluttered open and she'd frowned for an instant of total bewilderment at the morning sunlight streaking across an unfamiliar white ceiling. Her mouth had tasted dry and cottony, her head had felt oddly achy, and so had her stomach. She tried to move but it was painful to do so.
"Are you still feeling dizzy?" a female voice asked her, Buffy turned her head and saw a nurse looking down at her. "It will wear off. Your appendix was removed laparoscopically, these little operations are nothing this days, it doesn't hurt at all."
Buffy wanted to ask her if she had her appendix removed recently, but she managed a little smile.
"That's better dear. I won't allow you any self-pity. The analgesics are still effective. It was very late when you had your little operation. But don't worry I'm sure in a couple of hours you'll be ready to go home."
Buffy watched dryly as the nurse walked off disgustingly healthy. "If you say so!" She gave a little chuckle and even that hurt.
Buffy's face twisted in pain. The doctors had told her that she'd got to the hospital just in time, another day and it would be a lot more serious surgery. She looked around she was in a small private room, they probably transferred here while she was unconscious.
By mid-day Angel had yet to come and see how she was feeling. She wondered what he was doing now. It was a working day so probably in the office. Her mind went there, imagining him with Cordelia. Why does she have to be a masochist?
A stab of pain that was mixed with anger hit her more severely than her surgery. She was so jealous! It was a hopeless feeling and she knew it. It always would be like this, some woman would always be with him, he had made that clear.
Jenny had been staying with her the whole time, she came as soon as Angel had called her.
"I can't understand how you've got like this. I thought you were looking healthy and happy under Mr. O'Connor's care." Jenny said regretful.
"Jenny... it wasn't his fault. He had to force me to see a doctor."
"You're such a fool! Promise me, you'll never do something like this again."
"I Promise." It was so good to have Jenny with her, even if she only scolded at her.
"That's my little girl." Jenny smiled at Buffy lovingly. "Mr. O'Connor said you'll be staying with us until you recover. I can't wait to have you back, and maybe this time you'll stay for good."
"Jenny, I'm not going to Sunnydale." Buffy liked her independence.
"I don't think you have much choice, Buffy. He sounded very determined."
"Jenny, I have to manage on my own. That was the deal in the first place!"
Buffy was drifting into sleep when Angel finally came in. It wasn't visiting hours, but she couldn't think of anyone trying to stop him. He glanced round the room in irritation and walked over to her, looking down at her intently.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right. According to the nurse it doesn't hurt at all."
His lips quirked in amusement and he sat down on the bed close to her. "The doctor told me you'll be fine in a week."
"You asked...I presume." Buffy looked up at him half bitterly and saw him nodded and gave her a cynical look.
"Now who's to take care of you if I don't? You didn't even want to see a doctor."
"Thank you...I..."
"I don't want your gratitude," Angel broke in sharply.
"Perhaps not. But I'm grateful, whether you like it or not." She paused, but before she could get out any other word he change the subject.
"Jenn told me, you refuse to go to Sunnydale." He said trying to control his annoyance.
"Contrary to your beliefs, I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."
"I know you can take care of yourself. It's just that you never do." he stated coldly.
"Do you remember our bargain?" At his nod, she continued. "The deal was for me to prove I'm capable to manage on my own."
"Not when you're ill!"
"I'm not ill! I spoke to the doctor; he said I'll be able to walk in a day or two."
"Jenn will stay with you for a couple days. Agreed?"
"Ok."
The nurse came in as he was leaving; her healthy efficient face was flushing with wariness.
"Ah, miss." Angel smiled at her in that way he had, making the color in her face deepen. "I want Miss Summers moved to a better room. Things were in a rush last night. However, I dealt with the paperwork as I came in today."
"I'll stay here!" Buffy said as loudly as she could, the huge breath she had to take hurting her badly. She had to cling on to some sort of support before Angel swept her under completely.
"Please move her as soon as possible."
"I'll deal with it at once Mr. O'Connor."
They were talking about her as if she weren't even there, he wouldn't order Cordelia around and dismiss her wishes so arrogantly.
Buffy moved anxiously, forgetting her surgery in her sudden annoyance. Tears sprang into her eyes and she bit down hard on her lip, not quite stifling the whimper of pain.
Dark chocolate eyes flashed to her, narrowed and then turned on the nurse with keen authority.
"Can't you see she's in pain? Give her something!"
"Yes Sir. I'll get her some painkillers straight away."
"You're very kind." It had the sound of a passive threat, and he left without even looking back at Buffy. She looked at the nurse's now stern face; evidently she heard the threat too, and Buffy was sure that revenge would follow. Most likely in the form of a needle instead of a pill.
"Is Mr. O'Connor your fiancé?" the nurse asked somewhat harshly.
"In a peculiar sort of way," Buffy agreed with a sigh. In a peculiar sort of way he was, she supposed. He intended to marry her.
Buffy heard the sound of footsteps striding up the staircase towards her room and froze, Jenny had stayed with her for two days, but now she was completely alone, in the middle of the night the amplified noise traveled with nerve-shattering precision straight to her wildly beating heart.
This was LA after all.
She had laughed all Jenny's anxious concerns about the need to be careful in the Big Bad City, but now every word came flooding back to her with nightmarish clarity.
Burglars. Perverts. Rapists.
She cleared her throat and wondered whether she should gather up some courage and confront whoever had sneaked into her home.
However her courage, wasn't coming, she stood still and prayed that the blood-thirsty, drug-driven lunatic would see that there was nothing worth to steal and leave.
The footsteps, which seemed to know exactly where they wanted to go, materialized behind her bedroom door; she heard a click when hall light had been switched on.
She stood behind the door grasping firmly in her hands a heavy grass lamp, ready to hit the trespasser.
The door slowly opened and she jumped at the aggressor hurting her wound in the process.
"What have you done?" Angel was by her side, his hand taking the lamp from her hand. "You should be resting." He took her hand and led her back to her bed.
"Angel? What are you doing here?"
"Faith gave me a spare key. I just wanted to make sure you're alright."
"You didn't have to do that."
He should be less intimidating in casual clothes than he did in a suit, but somehow they just made him look tougher.
"You should know by now that I never do anything because I have to," he told her. "How's it feeling?"
She grimaced. "Not too bad." He tucked her in her bed and accidentally brushed his hand on her wound, she tried to stifle the whimper, but he noticed.
"We know there are not guarantees in life, but one thing I can promise is that I'll never deliberately hurt you..."
She believed in the sincerity of his words but the promise ran hollow in her heart.
Angel might never hurt her deliberately, but he would hurt her all the same. Buffy knew if they married she'll be the one to suffer the most from his infidelities.
Becoming Angel's wife might briefly satisfy the desire of her body but it would only increase the desire of her soul.
"Good, you'll turn around and leave, then," she said coldly. "Because I can take care of myself."
She was devastated when he didn't even try to argue. He merely gave her a hard look, a harsh nod and strode out of the house.
Next day she was reading a novel on a beach lounger out in the backyard, when she heard a strange noise inside the house. She slowly walked around the front just in time to see a man in white overalls disappearing to the open front door. She followed him inside.
"Hey, what's going on here?"
"Hooking you another line and installing you a fax machine, Miss."
"You must have the wrong place. I didn't order anything!"
"I did."
For the second time Buffy nearly suffered a heart attack at the sudden appearance of Angel, he was walking in carrying a large suitcase and a laptop. She followed him as he climbed the stairs and went straight towards Faith's room, he set his things down next to the bed.
"If I'm to keep in touch with the office, I'll need the additional phone line for the fax. Fortunately, these days I don't need to be there in person to run things. From here I can access the company's network.
"What are you talking about? You can't just move in like this."
"I already have," said Angel. He stretched on Faith's bed and grimaced at the hard mattress. "Is yours any better than this?"
She refused to answer and he went and investigated for himself, lying out full length on her bed and bouncing his hips a few times. "Ah, that's better. Not much but better." He folded his arms behind his head at looked at Buffy, who was glaring at him from the end of the bed. "I don't suppose you'd like to exchange?"
"No!"
He looked at her from under dark lashes. "Or share?"
She cast her eyes away from the hypnotic gaze.
"What's the matter Buffy? Does it disturb you to have me in your bed?" He turned his head and rubbed his cheek against the pillow, sniffing her sent.
"You can't stay here!" she say raggedly. "I won't let you..."
"What are you going to do, call the police and have me thrown out?" his eyes were bright with interest. "Because that's the only way you're going to get rid of me." Angel's mouth thinned. "If we're going to live together, then I think we'd better establish some ground rules!"
"Such as?"
"Such as that arguing with each other isn't going to get us anywhere."
"You started it!" Buffy said sharply.
"That is an extremely childish remark."
"And you just proved my point."
"Look," he said in a note of long-suffering. "...let's call a truce or something, shall we?"
She considered him, wondering if he really meant it. It would of course much better if they could go along together, but she didn't trust herself around him.
His eyebrows had stared to rise at her continued silence, when she finally said, "No...I won't call a truce, but I'm willing to try a temporary cease-fire," she added cautiously.
That made him grin, disarming her. "Well I suppose that's a start, however reluctant."
He groaned as the phone rang and got up to answer it. It was Wesley and he was immediately all business, he switched on his laptop and started to work.
Irritated with herself for finding his smile so unsettling, Buffy left. "I'll be in the kitchen."
She was busily boiling spaghetti when she became aware that he was in the kitchen with her.
"Are you sure you're fit to make dinner?"
"Yes, I feel fine."
"What are you cooking?"
"Just a simple pasta dish."
"The simple things in life are always the best," he quoted.
He was conducting an inventory of her possessions, investigating the contents of the set of pottery canisters on the counter and shamelessly perusing the pile of mail she had collected earlier today.
"Have your finished your work already?" she asked, turning round to face him.
"No, I just wanted to be in your company."
"What about the work?" she asked, watching in dismay as he settled comfortably in a chair.
"Work can wait a while." He gave her a charming smile. "You enjoy cooking?"
"Yes I do. I used to spend a lot of time in the kitchen with Jenny when I was child. It was fun."
"Do you need any help?"
"You can dice the onion and the rasher of bacon while I do the peppers and the tomatoes," she ordered, handing him a chopping board and a knife.
"With pleasure," he said.
The pleasure turned out to be hers as she watched him from the corner of her eye, and noted the slightly awkward way he handled the knife. So there was something at which he wasn't good at, she thought smugly.
"I take it you don't do a lot of cooking yourself," she murmured, when he swore roundly at the bits of bacon which were balling into a sticky mass on the knife's blade.
"I can cook a terrific steak," he defended himself. "And I've told that my salad is to die for!"
She could just imagine Cordelia batting her eyelashes at him and feeding his over growing ego with adulation. "I wouldn't place any credibility on Cordelia's opinion. She looks as if a stick of celery is her idea of culinary excellence."
It was his turn to be smug. "Do I take it you don't approve of my consorting with Cordelia?"
"You can date anyone you like," she said, chopping angrily.
"No; I can't...that's the problem," he murmured. He shifted his stance as he reached for the onion and his bare arm brushed against her shoulder. He cast her a sideway glance as she edged away. "Hell and damnation, that stings!"
The onion had taken its acid toll and Angel scrubbed his streaming eyes with the bottom edge of his shirt.
"You're just grinding it in deeper; you should let the tears do their proper job." Buffy advised.
"I'll have you know you're the only woman who can do this to me," he said, letting the shirt drop and blinking furiously to clear his vision.
"Make you chop onions?" she mocked.
His bloodshot eyes captured hers. "Make me cry."
Tbc...