ANGELUS
Angelus was sure that re-ensouling him would be one of the first actions that the group would take. He was sure that redhead could still accomplish the spell, and he hoped that they thought it would be as easy as it had been the first time around—not to say that that had been easy for them. And all of the work was attributed to Jenny, but now that Willow knew the curse, he was sure that it could be attempted again. He wanted them to try, because he wanted them to fail. Angelus wanted the group to lose the hope that there was any way to get him back. There wasn't as far as he was concerned. Not unless someone found a way to break through that little jar of his. And Angelus wasn't about to check the fragility of the Muo-Ping. It was made of glass, and he was sure it wouldn't take much to break it. The last thing he needed was it shattering. If his soul was returned to the ether then the curse would work and he couldn't afford that. Twice. Angelus had his soul forced on him twice now and he wasn't about to go for a third time. This time, he was back for good.
Angel was finished. He had his pathetic little run and the soulless vampire was going to do everything he could to ensure that the soul stayed safe (and out of him). If there was a way to destroy it, he would have taken that route. But, as far as he knew, it wasn't possible and he wasn't going to try and risk something else happening. And once he finished picking off everyone that had a mind to help him, he wouldn't have to be so concerned with whether or not they were working on methods to attain his soul. With all of the magic out there, and all the capabilities they could have at their fingertips, he wasn't foolish enough to think that there was absolutely no way to do it. The problem with his team and Buffy's Scooby gang was that they always found a way. It was what they were known for. As far as he was concerned, that was ending now.
The best way to deal with his problem was probably to kill them all off quick, before they had a chance to figure out where his soul was. Unfortunately, he would get practically nothing out of that. Thoughtlessly trying to slaughter everyone that had ever been semi-close to Angel lacked any artistry. It was messy, quick and completely blew off any talent that Angelus had. They were too special to just off without any thought to it. He wanted to slowly tear them apart, to watch them crumble and break. They deserved it. And if there was anybody that made the perfect target, it was Fred. She embodied much of what he might have picked out from a victim who was little more than a stranger. Only, she was so much better, because he knew her. Angel saved her. To be in danger by the one person that you trusted absolutely resonated more. There was nothing that would have stopped Angel from wanting to save her.
While he did a poor job at staying in Los Angeles, the soulless vampire didn't forget how he felt about Fred. It wasn't enough to take her out of Pylea. No, he needed to help her through all of the baggage she carried with her. He needed to set her up in a room and attempt to bring her back around to sanity again. He wanted to protect her, and to give her a chance to have a life again. If that wasn't a reason to go after her, then Angelus didn't know what was. Angelus wanted to use that sweetness to his advantage, to push her farther than her jumbled mind already was. He wondered if the group even considered how much he wanted to get his hands on Fred. Even if they did, he was sure that they thought her safe while she was inside the house. Technically, they weren't wrong. But, Angelus thought there were ways to get past that door. As long as she was willing to believe everything he said, then he'd have his way.
The plan wouldn't work on anyone, Angelus knew that. If Giles, Wesley or Gunn were around, he was sure that they wouldn't fall for his little act. It might be convincing, but they were too safe to give him the benefit of the doubt. None of Buffy's friends would be easy either; but after they dealt with him the first time around, he knew what to expect. He could play on the hope he thought Fred would still have, though. And why would she give up on him? He was her hero! Angel wouldn't give up on her and it would be incredibly disappointing if she decided to give up on him. Now, he wouldn't want her to succeed at bringing him back. That would destroy every one of his plans. But, he did want her to be invested enough to look at him and try to see the vampire that wouldn't have hurt her. It was easy for him to play the part. Even before he had a soul, Angelus knew how to play on people's trust. It wasn't a new found skill.
Angel's history with his friends was just a helpful part of it. He didn't gain his reputation for being unable to lure people to him. He was believable. And it was better when they didn't just believe him, but they believed in him. Angelus could use that to his advantage forever. He was unstoppable with that kind of trust backing him up. And as long as no one came back before he accomplished what he set out to do that night, then he wouldn't be troubled with someone trying to kill him on the spot. They would know the games he liked to play.
Angelus restrained himself from smiling when he heard her on the other side of the door. If he dropped the act for even one moment, he ran the risk of her discovering that he wasn't genuine. When it opened, Angelus wasn't surprised to see that the chain lock was still in place. Although, the whole idea of keeping it there seemed a little silly. For one, he couldn't get past the threshold if he tried, and if he was allowed in, it wouldn't take him a lot of effort to break the door open. Whatever made her feel "safe" though. He couldn't argue with that. When she opened the door, he looked away from her, glancing around as if making sure no one else was around. While the distrust in him from everyone else would have been a method of protecting themselves and Fred, Angelus was going to use it to explain why he would be there only for Fred in the first place. Knowing how quick they would be to kill him, he could use it to fuel Angel's urgency and worry that someone else was going to show up and finish him off before he had a chance to talk.
His dark eyes went to Fred, disguised behind a cover of worry and a tinge of desperation. When he saw her, he looked almost relieved, but not quite. "Fred. Fred, I need your help. Let me in," he requested, putting his hand up to where the threshold stopped him. He kept the franticness in his voice, making it out to be a necessity that she let him in. He suspected that it wouldn't be a simple process, where he asked and she just opened the door right up for him. But, he had full confidence that he would be invited eventually. No one else would even dare to do it. And just because he thought Fred would, didn't say anything about her intelligence. No, it was all a game of trust, and using that kindness that he knew she had to his advantage. The girl was genius, but if she trusted her hero the way he thought she did, then it was going to be Angelus' lucky night and one of her worst.
FRED
Fred had known that the transition to Sunnydale wouldn't be easy; she might have had five years less worldly-smarts than other people her age, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe that life would just slot straight back into place. The holes had become misshapen, the pieces that were supposed to fit in them jagged and too large, and Fred didn't really think that they were ever quite going to fit again. There could be an approximation, but it wouldn't be the same. She didn't want it to be the same; she wasn't the same girl who'd been studying physics at UCLA five years ago. Whatever way she looked at the world was never going to change. To try and convince herself otherwise would have been stupid, and there were a lot more things that she could be focusing her efforts on. But she'd not quite imagined it being this hard.
She'd accounted for meeting new people, and learning to trust them. She'd known that she might not have her own space straight away, although Giles had been very good about giving her a bedroom that she could call her own, and not being too cross when he discovered her writing on the walls, and Fred really appreciated that. She'd worked out the probability of encountering a demon when walking down the street, given that Sunnydale was on a Hellmouth and therefore a centre for demonic activity, although of course, she was no longer walking down streets. She wasn't going outside again, not until Angel was himself once more. But all her plans, all her calculations and statistics and models, had not even thought of the possibility that Angelus might return, and spells to return his soul wouldn't work, and that she would be so scared, all of the time. This wasn't supposed to happen; Fred was well aware that things rarely went to plan, but all the same...this shouldn't have happened. Not ever. Angel was good, and the Champion and he needed to stay that way. What good was cursing him with a soul so he would suffer, if that soul could be taken away just like that and he wouldn't care anymore? Angelus had no conscience. The idea of that scared Fred a lot.
"Fred. Fred, I need your help. Let me in,"
Her help? Why, of everyone, would he need her help? Fred wasn't good at any of the things that made a person useful in this world of vampires, demons and magic. She couldn't fight, she couldn't do spells, she couldn't—well, she couldn't do anything, really. She'd just started to feel like she might be able to find something in this world that she could do, creating weapons and using the knowledge that just seemed to appear in her mind though no fault of her own to get one-up on the particularly tricky demons, but then they'd moved to Sunnydale and she'd had to readjust again, and it had set her more than a couple of steps back. Things might have been better by now, if Angelus hadn't made himself known, so now Fred was back to feeling as though she were useless. If she'd been better, she would have known how to get Angel back without allowing his evil alter ego to kill people. If she'd been better, she wouldn't have let him down, and caused him to go away without letting anyone know in the first place, and she wouldn't have disappointed him so he felt like he couldn't keep a hold of his soul. Maybe it wasn't all her fault, but Fred certainly felt like it was her fault he was still lost.
She was supposed to be the clever one – everyone said so, even if she didn't see it. Academic smarts, knowing things about physics that her friends couldn't even wrap their heads round, and being able to solve sums in her head and work out how things went together without thinking...that wasn't being clever. It had no place in this world, and she wasn't even sure that she could use it to bring Angel back. And he needed to be back—she needed him to be back. Except that now he was here, though Fred hadn't gotten further than attempting to (theoretically) condense matter so that it could be sifted through for remnants of his soul, and he appeared to be him. She wanted to open the door wide, and wrap her arms around him, and tell him that she was so sorry she hadn't tried harder and that next time – not that there would be a next time – she wouldn't sleep at all until she figured out how to get his soul back...but she remembered the hypothetical Wesley shouting at her for being stupid, and Giles with that disapproving look he often had, and Angel himself, so disappointed that she had let her hope get the better of her. Angel was here, but Fred had to be careful. That was okay; she was good at being careful.
She wanted to believe, though. Fred needed to believe that this was Angel outside the door, that she didn't have to hide behind the block of wood because he had no desire to help her. If she couldn't hope that he'd got better, that his soul had come back, then Fred didn't think she could go on pretending that she wasn't slowly going crazy without the stability and strength that he just projected comforting her. She knew that she couldn't rely on a single person forever, but Fred also knew that she couldn't quite trust herself to take all the weight just that; Angel held her up when she felt like she was falling down – sometimes literally – and she'd been so lost not knowing where he was. It had been one thing when he'd run off almost the second they'd got back from Pylea, and she'd shut her door and barely come out of her room for three months, but this time had been different. This time, she wasn't crazy. Well, not that crazy. Just a bit confused in her mind still, and it had been worse without him around. Angel always saved her, and Fred didn't quite think she was ready to save herself yet.
"How do I know?" she asked, her voice quiet, but despite her vocal caution, she edged out from behind the door, closer to the gap left by the chain, her glasses sliding down her nose unchecked as she battled with the relief and fear she felt to keep her face somewhat neutral. She didn't think she managed it, though; relief was definitely the winner, because he sounded like Angel, and it felt like he was Angel, and though everyone else would be distrustful of him, Fred couldn't help herself. She needed him too much. "How do I know you're not tricking me?" she clarified, her voice louder now as she looked up at him, categorizing his expression and trying to find some fault in it, some crack that would prove he was Angelus playing with her head. She couldn't find anything. Fred thought he was Angel. Maybe she only thought it because she wanted it so badly, but she thought it nonetheless.
"I'll, uh, I'll go call Wesley," she said, suddenly flustered, stepping away from the door, but still looking at him through the gap. "He'll know. He always knows. And he can help. I can't—I don't think I can help you, Angel."
ANGELUS
"How do I know you're not tricking me?"
There would never be proof of whether or not he was telling the truth. Nothing physically changed when he lost or regained his soul—not that he could see anyway. There were demons that could pick up on it. Sometimes other vampires realized it immediately, yet others didn't seem to notice either way. Lorne, he was sure, could read him and figure it out, and Buffy, she had a way of knowing something was off. Of course, any option that would tell her whether or not he was tricking her was out of the question given that that was exactly what he was doing. While he loathed the thought of receiving his soul again, the thought that his friends wouldn't be able to trust Angel if he came back was mildly comforting. He would have nothing left. Nothing worth fighting for, and nothing to connect him to humanity. Then, it would only be a matter of time before he gave up completely.
Angelus didn't want to have to cross that bridge, but the time he was finished with everyone he cared about, the vampire with a soul wouldn't want to exist. There were some things that couldn't be forgiven. Forgiveness was an absurd hope for a vampire anyway. Angel didn't deserve it, especially not now. He could pretend that he was a Champion, and that he was a hero, but it didn't change what he had done and how he much he enjoyed it at the time. And even with a soul, Angelus was still there. He never disappeared, and it couldn't be that easy to face him, not after everything he would do to them. He just hoped he never had to find out how they'd react. Decisively, removing that thought from his head, Angelus needed more of a plan to get her to trust him. So, instead of trying to prove himself, his expression dropped, as if he had been struck with the hopelessness of his situation. "You can't," he said, filling his voice with pure guilt.
Since he couldn't necessarily prove himself to her, he thought he could eventually bring her around to understand how impossible it was. Trying to explain how evil he wasn't wouldn't be convincing enough and hardly the sacrificial Angel that he knew and loathed. The bastard would only be reminded of how much he hurt his friends by a comment like that. And he would try to accept that he couldn't make up for it. The more he pretended, the more he remembered how much he hated his ensouled counterpart. It was pathetic. But, his pathetic act was the one ticket he had through that door.
Angelus tried to choose the perfect moment to come out of the shadows to see Fred; one where he would have plenty of time to get inside and to get Fred out of it before anyone showed up to ruin his plans. These things took time, and he was tired of people interrupting him. The town was full of heroes, far more than it had been last time he was loose in Sunnydale. He wasn't going to be reduced to the level of an annoyance that never quite succeeded. They feared him now and he would make sure that they kept on fearing him. Laying low helped at first, since it kept him from being a direct target. If they could attack him when he wasn't looking, then it'd be over for him. It was better to be able to slip in and take what he wanted. Angelus had tact. Something that a lot of vampires lacked severely. They were too impatient and didn't take time to enjoy the plan.
And now, as much as he hated the persona he took on to trick Fred, he had the patience to carry it out. The door was the first blockade. After that, everything would run smoothly for him. But, if he never got in through the door, then his plans would be halted before they started. He doubted he would ever be able to trick any of the others into letting him inside. Oh, and wouldn't they be angry if they knew what was happening now? They would be more than angry when he was finished.
"I'll, uh, I'll go call Wesley,"
He should have expected that. It was a smart move—call the former watcher to figure out whether or not he was soulless to protect her. And surely he would. No doubt the once prissy Englishman would have no trouble in informing her not to let him in and dutifully try to run him off. If it came down to a fight, the vampire was confident that he could win. That wasn't troubling to him. Sure, Wes had weapons, and the group could try to gang up on him, but Wesley alone... Oh, he wasn't afraid of that. But, he wasn't looking to fight either. He was looking to avoid one, unless it was Fred that wanted to try the fighting. In which case, he wouldn't be complaining at all. But, he imagined her fighting wouldn't be punching and kicking as much as struggling. "No!" Angelus exclaimed, pressing his hands to the threshold again to try to stop her.
"He has no reason to believe me. They're not ready yet, they can't know." His voice went calm, but holding to that slight desperation that he needed her and only her. "I've done too much, Fred. I've..." He trailed off, as if the memory was too strong to say out loud. Looking down for a moment, his dark eyes took a few extra seconds to dart back to look at Fred. "Please. Invite me in." If there had been any real danger, Fred would have probably been one of the last people that Angel went to to help him. After all, she couldn't be expected to face down the demons that Gunn or Wesley could. But, he never used that as a reason for needing her help either. "You can," he encouraged. "You're the only one that'll trust me." Angelus explained. She was the only one he thought had hope enough to believe in his games. The only other time it was likely to work was with people that didn't know his soul was gone. "You trust me, don't you Fred?"