Part 11
The watch on her wrist told Buffy it was nearly nine at night by the time she and Angel finally got back to her apartment. To her, it felt more like midnight. She was exhausted, mentally and physically. As if her day hadn't been freaking weird enough already, what with the whole unbelievable-but-shouldn't-have-happened-sex-with-Angel-on-the-kitchen-table thing, it was topped off with another attack from the lunatic who had a hard-on for her. Yeah, today had just not been her day.
After they'd discovered the damage done to her car, Angel had called in Faith and a tech team to gather evidence. As usual, nothing was found to give them any clues as to the freak's identity. That didn't stop the investigators from scouring every inch of ground for over an hour, and then questioning her and Angel about their activities leading up to finding her tires destroyed. And then after that was done, she couldn't even go home because her car was fucked.
Angel must have sensed her disintegrating patience and growing fatigue because he took charge of handling her car. Any other time, Buffy would not have ceded control, but at that point, she just hadn't cared. The decision had been a good one since Angel had called in a favor and gotten her car towed and fixed right away. That had taken up another hour and a half.
Now she was home, and all she wanted to do was draw her curtains, shut off every light, and crawl into bed. Angel, though, appeared to have other ideas about what she should do. She scowled at him. Whatever was about to pop out of his mouth, she really, really did not want to hear it. And she would tell him just that.
"Buffy," Angel began.
Uh oh, here it comes. Just as she thought. "I'm going to bed, Angel," she shot out quickly. "I'm going to put on my yummy sushi pj's and wait for a visit from Mr. Sandman."
"But we-"
"I'm. Going. To. Bed." Period. The end. No ifs, ands, or buts. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.
"I-"
"Goodnight!" she cut him off again, then stomped down the hallway and into her room, slamming her door behind her.
Once inside her bedroom, Buffy winced and realized that perhaps she'd been a little harsh. She couldn't help it. Every neuron in her brain seemed to be shutting down. Not that that was surprising with everything that had happened to her recently. At the moment, all of it seemed to be catching up with her all at once; the break-in, the messed up poster, the harassment, her car, Angel, sex with Angel, talking with Angel, and everything in between.
Groaning, Buffy flopped onto her bed. Her head was pounding fiercely and her eyes were aching. A small voice in her head told her she should go out and apologize to Angel for snapping at him, but she couldn't muster the energy to move even a toe. She didn't exactly want to see Angel right now, anyway. It had been hard enough being around him all day after what they'd done in the kitchen. Just the memory sent shivers down her spine.
God! She'd had sex with Angel! On the kitchen table! Well, okay, she had to admit that the use of the table wasn't all that strange. Back in Sunnydale they'd gone at it in a number of places besides a bed. There'd been that one night where they'd gone for a walk in the park and...
No! Buffy squeezed her eyes shut. She was NOT going to think about sex with Angel. That was bad. Bad, bad, bad. But it was also oh, so good.
With a disgusted sigh, Buffy curled up into a ball, wishing the memories away. Thinking about Angel, their past, or any possible future was useless. A completely futile gesture. The best thing she could do would be to forget about what they'd done this morning and try to ignore Angel's presence. She'd managed to keep him from telling her this morning was a mistake. All she had to do was keep avoiding it. Angel would be gone soon, anyway. Or at least whenever they caught the sicko who was after her.
Yes, that's what she'd do: ignore it. Ignore it and it'll go away. But wait, she wondered vaguely as she drifted off to sleep, wasn't the saying something like 'ignoring something won't make it go away'? Yeah, that was probably it. Didn't that just figure?
As Buffy was off in her bedroom visiting dream-land, Angel remained standing in the living room exactly where'd he'd been when Buffy had stormed off ten minutes earlier. What the hell had that been about, he wondered. She hadn't let him get a word out. Come to think of it, she'd been like that all day.
Ever since they'd slept together just that morning.
Angel rolled his head around, trying to loosen his tense muscles. Could things possibly get any more screwed up? Probably. It was always possible for things to get worse. Right now, he just couldn't see how. He'd slept with Buffy. Now Buffy was barely talking to him. And on top of that, he still had no leads on catching the creep stalking her.
There wasn't anything he could do about the girl, or guy, after Buffy at the moment. It also didn't seem like there was anything he could do about things between him and Buffy. She'd run away from him like he had Ebola and was ready to sneeze on her. Angel contemplated going after her, but he didn't think that was such a good idea. Buffy looked about ready throw something at him before she'd taken off. Best wait till morning.
Angel told himself that, but as he retreated to his room and undressed for bed, he couldn't get what had happened with Buffy off his mind. Giving in to his lust for her had been a bad idea. He knew that, had known that, it just hadn't stopped him from taking her. He was no better than a horny sixteen year old.
God, it had been perfect, though. So perfect. After four years, he'd thought maybe his memories of her, of them together, had been exaggerated. Now he knew they were understated. She was so beautiful. Nothing was as wonderful as making love to her. He'd known that back in Sunnydale. This morning had been different. Better. He'd been with the real Buffy this morning.
Angel had thought his feelings for Buffy – or Lizzie – had died long ago.
Apparently, he was wrong.
The sun was barely over the horizon when Angel found himself standing in Buffy's living room staring out the windows at the just awakening city. He hadn't been able to sleep worth a damn. An hour or so here and there at best. So finally, he'd given up and decided to go make some coffee and find something to do to occupy his mind. The coffee part he'd accomplished. Finding something to do? Not yet.
Watching some television would have been a nice diversion, but when Angel went to turn it on, he came to realize the TV was one thing Buffy had yet to replace from the destruction of the break-in. So that idea was out. All he'd done so far was stare out the window. He wondered if Buffy knew that the guy who lived in one of the apartments across the street tended to walk around naked.
Angel shook his head. What was he doing? Peeping into other people's apartments out of boredom was a bit extreme. The cell phone clipped to his belt vibrated.
"Saved by the bell," Angel muttered.
He unclipped the phone and flipped it open. "Hello...Faith?" Angel glanced at his watch. "What the hell are you doing up so early?...You might as well come by now...See ya in few."
Well, that will give him something to do, Angel thought as he shut off the phone and hooked it back into its holder on his belt. Faith was on her way over with some preliminary lab data from the attack on Buffy's car last night. That would definitely help take his mind off his personal relationship – if that's what he had – with Buffy.
It was barely seven a.m. And Faith was already up and about. That was beyond strange. Faith was not a morning person. According to her, though, she'd had to get up a few hours ago for an early morning meeting with an informant about another case. He imagined that hadn't made her too happy.
At the reminder of other cases, Angel felt an odd pang of longing. For the past week, he'd been solely focused on Buffy's situation. He wasn't quite used to working on one case, and only one case. He missed being out and chasing down leads, catching perps. And he missed being at the station and around his colleagues. Protecting Buffy wasn't exactly a bad assignment, though. It was just stretching his nerves a bit thin.
A loud banging on the front door alerted Angel to the fact that Faith had arrived. Why the hell was she pounding? He wasn't freakin' deaf! She was still pounding when he yanked open the door and glared at her.
"Can't you knock like a normal person?" he bitched at her. "I'm sure the whole block heard you!"
"Good morning to you, too," Faith greeted cheerfully. She looked Angel up and down. "So we're dressed this morning, huh? I guess that means I won't find Buffy's underwear lying on the living room floor this time."
Heat raced up Angel's neck. He'd left Buffy's underwear in the kitchen yesterday before he'd made his escape. And Faith had found them. By the evil grin on her face, he'd say she was loving this whole thing.
"The file?" Angel redirected her attention to the information she'd said she was bringing.
"It's right here," she held it up and waved it in front of him, all the while enjoying the whole situation. She just loved to yank Angel's chain.
"Faith? What are you doing here?" came Buffy's voice from the hallway.
Faith checked her friend out as Buffy walked further into the living room. She bit her lower lip to keep from laughing. "No silk robe this morning, B? Gotta say, those sushi jammies are really sexy, though," she teased. Like Angel, Buffy blushed a deep red at the reminder of the Kitchen Tryst.
"And you're here why?" Buffy shot back, crossing her arms over her chest while trying to keep from dying of embarrassment.
"Prelims on your car," Faith answered, again waving the file.
"Thanks." Angel snatched it out of her hand and stalked off to the couch. He dropped down and set the file on the coffee table. "Anything important in it?"
"Not really," she responded disappointedly. "Only thing the lab nerds know so far is that the cuts were made with an extremely sharp, smooth surface knife. Probably a switchblade."
"Right," he nodded as he skimmed through the initial lab findings.
As she stood leaning against the wall, Faith studied both Buffy and Angel. Yeah, there was definitely something going on there. Buffy was standing as far away from Angel as possible, but Faith noticed her eyes kept flicking to the man on the couch. And Angel seemed to be taking great pains at not looking at Buffy. Could they be any more obvious? Wait 'til she played her trump card.
Sauntering over to the chair next to the couch, Faith flopped down and propped her booted feet up on the coffee table. She cocked her head and studied her unpainted fingers nails. "So Angel," she said casually, "Heard an interesting tid bit at the station just before I came here."
"Hmm," Angel mumbled distractedly. What was she going on about?
"Yeah. Ran into the boss-man. He happened to mention that you took vacation time to play Buffy's bodyguard," she revealed, her eyes sparkling mischievously. And oh, what fun that was!
Angel's hands tensed immediately on the papers he'd been reading. Shit! He'd purposely kept that to himself, knowing how it would probably come off. Now Faith had opened her big, fat mouth and blurted it out. Great. Just great.
"What?" Buffy whipped her head around and stared at Faith, then Angel. "You did what?"
"Thanks, Faith," he muttered, eyeing her with disdain.
"Angel? Faith?" Buffy said pointedly, waiting for one of them to explain. Angel kept his eyes trained on the papers in his hand.
"Well," Faith began, seeing that Angel wasn't going to do the honors. "According to the Cap, he agreed that your life was in danger. Problem was that the city couldn't afford to slap one of its officers on you twenty-four/seven. So our buddy Angie here offered to take some unpaid vacation time in order to stick himself to you like glue."
"You did that?" Buffy said softly, shocked at the knowledge that Angel had done something like that for her.
"I didn't want to see anything happen to you," he replied, shrugging off the gesture he'd made so many days ago.
Angel still wasn't sure what had made him do it. His boss had agreed that Buffy needed protection; it just hadn't been in the budget. At first he'd hoped someone else would pull bodyguard duty, and he'd be able to keep some space between him and Buffy. The money issue had vetoed that. Unless someone volunteered to do it on their own time, Buffy would remain susceptible to attack. He couldn't stand the idea of her being unprotected, not with someone out to destroy her. So he'd spoken without thinking and said he'd take some of his stock-piled vacation time and do it without pay. The minute the words were out of his mouth, he'd regretted it. But by then, his boss had been all over the idea and put Angel on leave.
"Thank you for doing it," Buffy said graciously, because despite whatever their personal problems, and whatever had made him offer to do it, she felt safer having Angel around. She hadn't really thought much about that, but it was true.
"So tonight's the big opening, huh?" Faith butted in, deciding she'd stirred up enough trouble for one day. Her work was done for now.
"Yeah." A smile graced Buffy's face at the thought of her exhibition tonight. She was really looking forward to it.
A thought suddenly occurred to Angel. "Is your family coming?" He hadn't ever met any of them. What were they like?
"Umm, yeah. Giles, Jenny, and Dawn are driving up for it. They got a neighbor to watch the baby," she answered, still smiling. It had been a while since she'd gotten to see all of them together.
"I'm surprised that they haven't been camping out here with everything that's been goin' on," Faith pondered aloud. She knew how protective Buffy's family was of her.
Buffy squirmed over Faith's statement. Neither Angel or Faith missed the movement, and both stared at her with narrowed eyes. She was obviously hiding something.
"You didn't tell them, did you?" Faith accused.
No, she hadn't told them. Buffy knew how her family would react if they knew that someone was after her. They'd be all over her like an ant on left-over food. Dawn would want to come back to LA to be here to help her. Giles and Jenny would insist she come back to Sunnydale where they could look after her. Buffy knew they would mean well, but she didn't want them all over her. And she didn't want them to worry.
"I didn't want to freak them out," she admitted with a sigh.
"You should have told them," Angel said in a voice that sounded suspiciously fatherly. "They're probably going to find out tonight. How are you going to explain me being there? Or the extra security I called in?"
"We could just tell them you're a friend, and they probably won't notice the security or just think it's something the gallery is doing," Buffy posed, grasping at straws.
"I won't lie to them, Buffy," he stated firmly. If anyone knew what lies could do, Buffy should.
"I know, I know," she grumbled sulkily. Angel was right; she knew that. But she'd be lying if she said she was looking forward to her family finding out about her stalker, especially during the opening. "If they ask, we'll tell them."
"Okay, kiddies. I'll leave you guys to sort this out. I gotta jet." Standing, Faith flicked her long hair over her shoulder and took a few steps towards the door. Before going the rest of the way, she paused. "Spike and I will catch up with you at the gallery tonight. Not sure what time we'll get there. You know how much of a pain in the ass he can be about getting somewhere on time."
Chuckling, Buffy shook her head. "Tell him if he's too late, I'll hide the cocktail weenies."
"That might do it," Faith laughed as she reached the door. "Later."
Buffy and Angel were quiet for a minute after Faith left. They kept their eyes on anything but each other. Finally, Angel shifted in the chair and sneaked a peak at Buffy. "So...what time do we need to go to the gallery?"
"I should be there by four," she answered, studying her toenails and debating whether she should paint them for the opening. "The show doesn't start until seven-thirty, but I have two interviews to do beforehand. Plus there's some final detail stuff that needs to be done."
"Interviews?"
"Yeah. One is with a writer for the Arts section of the LA Times, and another works for a small publication that focuses solely on artists of all kinds," she explained.
"Wow, that's pretty cool," an amazed Angel said. "I guess I hadn't realized you were that popular as an artist."
Shrugging off the off-hand praise, Buffy responded, "I got lucky. My Mom had a lot of connections in the art world when she was alive. People still remember her. The owner of the gallery my exhibition is in was a classmate of my Mom's in college. When she saw some of my work after I moved here, she insisted on hosting my first show, and she pulled out all the stops when she did it. Things just kind of took off after that."
"That's great! I'm really happy that it's gone so well!" he applauded her success.
"Thanks." Buffy blushed slightly.
Now that they seemed to have run through all their conversation topics, neither knew what to say. Angel thought of talking to Buffy about what happened between them, but thought better of it. Buffy had enough stress to deal with today without him piling more on. It could wait until tomorrow. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her, anyway. The delay would give him some time to consider the whole situation.
"I, umm, have stuff to do," she waved a hand toward her room. "I need to call Giles to make sure everything is set for tonight, and call a few other people. And there's all that girly stuff like painting my nails," she babbled, desperately trying to find anything to get her on her own where Angel wouldn't be crowding her so much.
"Oh, right. I'll just watch-" He was about to say TV, but he reminded himself again that Buffy hadn't replaced hers yet. "I'll find something to do."
"Sorry. I haven't gotten around to getting a new TV yet," she apologized, realizing she wasn't leaving Angel with much to entertain himself.
"It's okay. I've got a book in my bag I can read." He hoped he'd put the book in there. Otherwise, it was going to be a long, boring morning.
"Good. Great. Well, umm, be ready to leave around three-thirty, then," she chattered as she rose and took a few backwards steps towards the hallway.
"No problem," he agreed. And with that, Buffy zipped down the hallway and into her room. Angel guessed she would have gone to any room he wasn't in. Things couldn't get any more tense between them.
By eight that night, the gallery was beginning to fill up with art connoisseurs, and those who wanted to look cool by just attending such a popular event. Angel was amazed at how many people were packed into the rooms below. The gallery would be lucky if they didn't violate any fire codes. Buffy had assured him, though, it wouldn't get too full. The event was invitation only.
Knowing that didn't stop Angel from worrying. With all those people wandering around, he'd have to keep a close eye on Buffy. They had no idea who was after her. It could be any one of those people he was studying from his bird's eye view. He'd just have to keep his eyes open. At least they had decent security. There was a guard at both the front and rear doors, as well as two provided by the gallery patrolling the inside. He'd spoken with all four of them to make sure they knew what they were dealing with regarding Buffy's situation.
"It's just past eight," Angel called into the office behind him. Though the gallery had opened it's doors around seven, and the event officially started at seven-thirty, Buffy had explained to him that she wasn't making her appearance until eight. Something about making a statement or whatever. He didn't quite get it, but it was her deal, not his.
"Right," she muttered from behind him.
The slight waver in her voice drew his attention. "Nervous?"
"A little," she acknowledged. "It'll pass once I get down there. It's just one of those things, ya know? These people hold my reputation in their hands. If they don't like the product, I bomb."
"I guess I can see that," Angel replied pensively. He hadn't considered that aspect. "I'm sure you'll be great, though."
Just then, Angel fully turned around and nearly stumbled backwards when he got a complete look at Buffy. "Wow," he gasped. She looked absolutely stunning. Her dress was royal blue, made of silk, he guessed. The top was fitted tightly in a bodice style with two sparkly straps going over her shoulders, and the skirt was a floaty knee length that swirled around her. Angel had never seen her look more beautiful than she did at that moment, and it made his heart pound. "You look wonderful."
"Thanks," she accepted with a small smile. "You look great, too." And boy, did he ever! He had on a pair of pressed black slacks that hugged his butt just so. She'd taken a minute to ogle him earlier. His shirt was long-sleeved, charcoal gray with buttons down the front, and looked to be made of a superior soft silk. The overall look, combined with his dark hair and eyes was just...yummy.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yup. Might as well get this show on the road." She took a deep breath and gave her curled hair one last fluff.
Angel offered his arm to Buffy, which she took after only a second's hesitation. Together, they moved to the top of the stairs. As soon as they were in sight, the idle chatter below hushed. All heads turned to the pair on the stairs. Angel noticed more than one appreciative eye on Buffy. Well, too bad. She was his for the night.
Descending the stairs, a gracious round of applause sounded from the gathered guests. Well, that's a good sign, Buffy thought to herself. Things were starting off well. She held tightly onto Angel's arm the rest of the way. His presence beside her gave her an odd little boost, but she wasn't going to think about that.
At the bottom of the stairs, she smiled widely. People were already crowding around her, passing their greetings. It would be a while, she knew, before she'd have a chance to breathe again.
Nearly an hour and a half passed before Buffy had a chance to relax for a moment. It seemed like everyone in the room had wanted a personal word with her. The price of success, she supposed. At least she could talk to her family now. She saw them approaching out of the corner of her eye and gave a tug on Angel's arm. He hadn't left her side the entire time.
"That's my family," she gave a nod in their direction.
Angel turned, a smile on his face. He was looking forward to meeting the people that had been so good to Buffy. They appeared to be a good group, he thought, as they drew closer. The man looked to be around fifty with graying hair and a proud grin on his face. His wife – Jenny, was it? - Angel was surprised to see was a bit younger, probably mid-thirties. She was quite beautiful, though, and obviously just as proud of Buffy as her husband. The young woman with long brown hair, Angel knew, had to be Dawn, Buffy's sister. The two siblings looked very different, but he could pick out some facial similarities.
"Buffy!" Giles greeted her with a big hug. "You look beautiful!"
"Thanks, Giles," Buffy returned the hug and then shared greetings with the woman who'd taken her in years ago and then later married her uncle, and her sister. It was Jenny who first gave Angel a curious look.
"Who is your friend, Buffy?" she asked, a bit of a teasing smile on her face.
"Oh, well, umm...this is...," Buffy stuttered, wondering what she could get away with saying. Things were going so well, she didn't want to ruin the night. Angel, though, gave her a pointed look. He wasn't going to let her wiggle her way out of this. She sighed. "Angel is sort of my...my bodyguard."
"Your what?" Giles' head whipped toward Angel. "Bodyguard? Why in the devil would you need a bodyguard?"
Angel couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Buffy over the next twenty minutes as they explained the situation to her family. They were, expectedly, rather displeased that she had kept what was going on from them. But to their credit, they didn't freak out, as Buffy thought they might. Her uncle asked numerous questions, wanting to know what was being done by the police. Angel did all he could to assure them that they were working hard to catch the stalker, and that in the meantime, he was keeping a close eye on Buffy and would do everything possible to keep her safe.
Once they'd extracted themselves from her family and directed them to the buffet table, Buffy turned to Angel with a grimace on her face. "Well, that was fun."
"They had to know sooner or later."
"I know." She pushed a damp piece of hair off her neck. It was so hot in here! "I need to go outside for a few minutes and get some fresh air." She didn't bother to wait for Angel's response and started off toward the front door.
Shaking his head, Angel followed after her. Buffy certainly knew how to keep him on his toes. She always had. Fresh air did sound nice, though. With all these people packed around them, it was more than a little stifling. He gave a nod to the guard at the front door as he traveled through, and had the passing thought that he was glad there'd been no trouble
Just past the door, Buffy bumped shoulder to shoulder with someone trying to get into the gallery. Her eyes widened when she took in the man who'd paused beside her. "Oh my God! Oz! Is that you?"
"Buffy? Wow! Long time no see," the man, Oz, responded, leaning forward to accept Buffy's hug.
"What are you doing here? In LA, I mean," she added, grinning at the sight of her old friend.
"My band is based in LA now. That's how I heard about your show. We're playing at a club down the street and I walked by the gallery last week and saw the sign for tonight," he explained.
"I'm so glad you came! It's great to see you!" Buffy gushed. She'd always liked Oz. They'd hadn't exactly been close, but they'd always gotten along. She was surprised that he was in LA, though. "So you're in LA now? I didn't think you'd leave Sunnydale. What about-"
"We broke up," Oz cut in abruptly.
"Oh, well, um..." she trailed off, sensing an undercurrent there. "We were just getting some fresh air, but I'll be back inside soon."
"Cool," Oz stated, then gave her a sheepish look. "Umm, don't suppose you could convince the door guy," he nodded to the gallery person standing at the door checking invitations, "to let me in?"
"Oh! Right!" Buffy took a few seconds to speak with the doorman and then turned back to Oz. "You're all set."
"Thanks! I'll catch up with ya later." He pushed through the door and walked inside.
"Huh," Buffy grunted, taking a few steps out onto the sidewalk and leaning against a light post as she faced the gallery.
"Old friend?" Angel questioned, coming to stand a foot or so in front of her. He denied to himself that there'd been anything sharp in the tone of his voice. Buffy probably had lots of old friends. Old guy friends. He wasn't jealous.
"Yeah. We went to high school together. Oz was one of those people who didn't belong to any group, but got along with everyone. His band was really popular and played at a lot of parties," she relayed, reaching behind her to lift her hair up off her neck so that the crisp night air could cool her skin.
The move made Angel's chest tighten. It hadn't been a purposeful, erotic action, but it had a similar effect on him. The slender curve of her neck enticed him, called to him to lean forward and press his lips just there. He hadn't meant to lean forward, but he was doing it anyway.
To his left, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of light reflecting off something. Angel felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle. He halted his movement, all thoughts of kissing Buffy fleeing his mind as he searched the darkness with narrowed eyes. There had been something there. He knew he'd seen it.
A car drove down the street, it's headlights catching on the shiny gleam of metal on the sidewalk. Angel froze. He had only a split second to react as he saw a shadowed figure shift, arm outstretched.
"BUFFY!" he shouted, diving forward as a loud crack echoed through the streets.
TBC!
