Chapter Twelve

Buffy couldn't help but stare at Angel as they walked side by side back to her house. It was a gorgeous night. The stars shone throughout the sky, and there was a slight breeze. The town was quiet and peaceful. Maybe that was why the people in Sunnydale were oblivious to the things that go bump in the night. When you take away the Hellmouth and all the evil things along with it, Sunnydale wasn't so bad.

Buffy hadn't spoken to Angel since the night at the Sunset Club, and she was thankful for that. She wasn't ready to be confronted by lies... or the not-so-much lies Spike had spilled last week. Buffy was grateful, of course, for his help. Not just at the Sunset Club but tonight also. If it weren't for Angel, she would've been Eyghon's dinner. Luckily Willow was able to devise a plan that if Eyghon were to leave Jenny's body and enter Angel's, their demons would fight, and hopefully, Angel's would be the victor. It all worked out perfectly until Angel offered to walk Buffy home. She had debated what to do; on the one hand, it would be nice to have someone see her home safely since she was still a bit disoriented from the events that had occurred in the last hour. On the other, it meant having to fess up to her lies. Neither appealed to her. The ethical dilemma of whether to lie to Angel as he'd done to her would make her a hypocrite.

Buffy glanced at him again. There were no emotions displayed on his face for her to understand what he was thinking. It was impossible to read him. She wondered if it was a vampire thing or just uniquely him. She was starting to become uncomfortable with the amount of time that had passed in silence. If it went on any longer, she was sure she'd go crazy.

"Does the tattoo hurt?" Angel asked.

Buffy turned to him. A slight breeze ruffled the hairs on her neck, and she suddenly realized that she'd been so occupied with her thoughts that she'd completely forgotten about the tattoo! How the hell was she going to hide that from her mother?

"A little." Buffy sighed. There was an awkward pause. "There's no worse pain than dying, though." She'd meant it to be a joke, but Angel was only serious.

"There is"

"And that would be…?"

"Physical pain is only temporary," he explained. "Emotional pain can last much longer."

"But physical pain hurts more," she argued. She'd been doing that with him a lot more lately.

"If somebody close to you were to die, what would hurt worse," he asked. "The emotional pain that would stay with you for years or being sore after a fight?"

Angel was right, and she couldn't help but be annoyed. Not because he was wrong, but because of the way he was so arrogant about it.

"Fine," she conceded. "You're right." Per usual.

"I didn't mean for this to turn into an argument," he admitted.

Buffy sighed, suddenly feeling like a complete bitch. There were days that she didn't know what to make of Angel. Most of the time, he was quiet, brooding, sensitive, and probably only one step away from vamping out and biting her. That was what she told herself, anyway. He didn't act human. Not like she was expecting him to, but she couldn't help but compare him with Spike. Even the evil, soulless Spike that she knew now still had some emotions.

Buffy didn't know how to decipher that piece of information. Spike cared about Drusilla. And not in a twisted, sick, evil way. He'd been genuinely worried for her when Buffy had her stake pressed to the vapid bitch's undead heart. How could a vampire without a soul show more emotions than Angel, who had one? It didn't make any sense.

Sometime's Buffy wondered what having a soul even meant. She'd always believed that no soul equaled bad and having a soul equaled good. What if everything she'd been taught was wrong? Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason Buffy could almost forget for a minute or two that he was the thing she was supposed to be killing and not think of him as… well, the evil annoying guy who was trying to rip her throat out. The one who looked surprisingly good even when he was in vampire mode. She could only imagine that he kissed like …

"Are you going to get it removed?"

Angel's question brought Buffy out of her sick, twisted thinking. She couldn't believe she'd allowed her mind to drift so far into her Spike La La Land that she'd completely forgotten about the vampire walking her home.

"Uh, Giles offered to help pay for it. On account that I wouldn't have been in this situation if it weren't for him," she explained.

"You're not upset with him?"

"Nah," Buffy shook her head. "We all make mistakes."

Angel cleared his throat and gave a soft nod. "Right."

They continued walking in awkward silence. Whenever Buffy wanted time to go quickly, it would do the opposite and drag by slowly. It was annoying how the Universe worked that way. She looked down at the sidewalk as she pondered Angel. Something was disconcerting about knowing that a vampire helped alongside a Slayer to fight evil. She often wondered why he did it. He'd admitted to her that he'd loved her, but Buffy didn't feel loved. Not in the way she did by Spike, ahem, the other Spike. Angel made her feel like a child. Spike had never made her feel that way. She was also the Slayer, for crying out loud! She had to grow up faster than regular teenagers her age.

Even as a mortal enemy, she'd always regarded Spike like they were equal on every level. When Spike first arrived in Sunnydale two months ago, Buffy didn't know what to expect. A small part of her had hoped that what she saw when she had died was the future, and meeting Spike outside the Bronze was the beginning of their story. Even when they were fighting to the death on the night of Saint Vigeous, she still thought of ways about how they could be together. How would Giles react or Angel? God forbid her mother. Buffy couldn't even imagine the look she'd have on her face if her daughter brought home a punk, bleached blonde vampire (unbeknownst to her) home. Of course, these were just fantasies Buffy would think in her head while she was doodling on her notebook in class. She knew they'd never come to fruition, especially after finding out that Drusilla was in the picture. That was when Buffy accepted the truth. They were never going to be best pals or in love. They would always be mortal enemies.

There were moments Buffy didn't feel equipped to be the Slayer. If any other Slayer were in her position, Spike would already be dust in the wind. And not only did she allow herself to feel something for one vampire, but two of them. If Giles only knew the truth of her feelings, he'd be so disappointed in her. And sometimes, that made Buffy feel sad. She often wondered if he wished that he'd been placed with a different Slayer. A Slayer that leaned more on the side of caution and who wasn't impulsive and immature. A girl who read the Slayer handbook and showed up to her training sessions on time. It's not like she wanted to disappoint him. She tried to make everyone happy, even if that meant risking her own happiness along with it.

"I wanted to talk about what happened last week."

Buffy nearly tripped over her own feet. Angel grabbed her elbow to keep her upright. She cursed herself for letting him catch her off guard. She thought she'd been prepared for him to pop the question, and yet she had forgotten how to walk when he finally did.

"Thanks," she said as she found her footing and continued walking. "What about it?" She tried to play it off cool, but she was sure her racing heart and staggered breathing was giving away her facade.

"I wanted to talk about what Spike said."

Buffy took a sharp intake of breath as she looked at him. Pretending not to remember would be her best option. "What did he say, exactly? A lot was going on that night."

Luckily, Angel went along with her game.

"Something that happened between you two on Halloween night?" he asked, trying to jog her memory.

Buffy told him what she had practiced in her head all week. "I don't remember much from that night. You know, being turned into my Halloween costume and all."

"It's just… he said something that's been bothering me. About you two being 'all hot and bothered.'" He gave her a long, steady look. "You don't remember anything?"

"Nope." Buffy shook her head firmly. "I'm sure he was just trying to get under your skin, which worked, by the way," she scolded. "You can't let that happen again, or he'll kill you."

Angel gave a soft chuckle. "Spike could never kill me."

Buffy raised her eyebrow. "That's a bit cocky, don't you think?"

Angel shrugged. "Not cocky, just… confident."

"I don't know." Buffy taunted. "It didn't look that way to me."

"Trust me. If I wanted to kill Spike, I would have killed him."

Buffy quickly turned towards him. "So you could have killed him that night or Drusilla the week before, and you choose not to both times."

Angel looked away. "It's not easy for a vampire to kill their Childe. I won't lie to you, it isn't something that I will go out of my way to do, but if I'm stuck between you or them, I'll choose you every time."

Buffy couldn't help the butterflies that formed in her stomach. She knew that she needed to stop being so hard on him for not behaving how a human would. He was genuinely trying.

"If what Spike said was true, and you don't remember what happened that night, do you think he might have…" Angel trailed off, looking disgusted by his thoughts.

It took Buffy a minute to realize what Angel was implying. Her eyes widened as she opened and closed her mouth several times, no doubt looking like a fish. Her reaction undoubtedly did not ease Angel's racing thoughts.

His eyes suddenly turned yellow, and he gave a low growl. "If he touched you, I'll kill him."

Spike had touched her that night, but not in a perverted way and more in a kill-your-mortal enemy way. But how could she explain that to Angel without him realizing she was telling half-truths?

"I do remember some things," she said and then quickly backtracked. "It's all jumbled in my head. It comes and goes, but Spike didn't touch me that night."

Angel didn't look so certain. "Are you sure–"

"Spike did not touch me," she replied firmly, leaving no room for argument. He chose not to press the issue further, and Buffy could only hope that she managed to change his mind.

When they finally arrived at her house, Angel had leaned in for a kiss, and it was nice. But that's all it was. There was no spark between them like she had once felt, and it was becoming more apparent the more time they spent together.

Angel pulled away and slowly walked into the shadows of the night. Once she was sure he was gone, she climbed up to her window and crawled into her room. Her muscles ached, and her neck was sore from the tattoo needle penetrating her skin. Hopefully, she will get a good rest tonight. A cranky Buffy was not a person people would want to be around. And maybe the Universe could even let the rest of her week not be so stressful for just once in her life. A girl could only hope.