Chapter Four

Once again, the daily routine began and went. Giles was at his apartment, looking up more about Buffy's Slayer crisis. In the early hours of the morning, Angel decided to take Buffy to his mansion, since she was becoming a little mental being cooped in the house. Everyone agreed it would be best, and Willow had began using channeled magic to protect his mansion when they'd left the house. Giles had placed an invisibility spell on them before they left the house. Tara went with them, just to be sure the protection around the mansion was up.

"Is this it?" Tara had asked. Angel ushered her inside, and she made contact with Willow, affirming the spells were up. Then she went home.

So now, Buffy was setting in the large living room, curled up next to Angel on th couch. The fire was roaring, heating the old house. She shivered, remembering what used to hang above the fireplace. As if sensing her thoughts, he rubbed her shoulders.

"It's over now. You brought me back from that," he said, kissing her head. She leaning into him, tired.

"When did things get so complicated?" He didn't respond immediately, then chuckled.

"I would say about the time your first Watcher approached you." She smiled and shook her head.

"No. I think it was when we moved here. At least in LA I could pretend everything was fine." Buffy turned her head and looked at Angel. "But I don't regret everything."

"Do you regret kicking me into a wall?"

"You were following me, so no I don't," she said with a smile.

"I had to follow you. It wasn't safe." She raised an eyebrow, and unconsciously touched the cross around her neck. She'd slipped it on before leaving the house. He looked at the chain below her fingers, then touched it, feeling the warm metal cool on his fingers. "Besides, it wouldn't have been a good idea for you to know my name then."

"Did I ever thank you for this?" she asked, playing with the cross. Truth be told, it was one of the few things he couldn't recall. He was usually to worried about her safety to know if she ever thanked him.

"You didn't have to."

"But I want to." The smooth metal slipped from her fingers and landed, warm, on his hand that was holding her other. There was no sizzling. She put the cross away and looked at him for an explanation. Angel hesitated; he was in trouble and he knew it. She might not be top condition, but she could still hurt him; she was the Slayer after all. "Well?"

He sighed. "It's part of the curse, when Cordy and Wes removed my soul-" he cringed as anger swarmed her face. "-and restored it, and I gained protection from crosses. We have yet to figure it out."

"Removed you SOUL?!" she screeched, pulling away. He cringed. "What the hell do you mean Cordelia removed your soul?!" His brain registered her words. Oh. Jealous a little?

"They used a spell. Trust me, I didn't like it one bit."' Buffy snorted, sighed, then sulked, muttering about soon to be dead ex-cheerleaders and Watchers. His lips twitched. "Calm down Buffy. It had to be done." She snorted again, softer. She flicked her gaze at him, saw the truth written all over his usually expressionless face, and sighed in defeat, smiling slightly.

"Fine." she mumbled, going back into his embrace. There was something about Angel she always trusted, even when he was evil. It made her feel safe and loved. It still did. She loved him, and knew it. It wasn't confused my other emotions like with Spike. She felt no lust as she looked at him, but considering recent events, that was expected.

"Wow. That was easy. Where's Buffy Summers and what have you done with her?" he asked teasingly. She smiled and ducked her head, trying to hide the tears forming. The comment hit a cord, one she hadn't known about. "Buffy," he said softly. He looked at him through her lashes.

"Yeah?"

"It's not your fault."

"It is," she mumbled. He shifted, getting comfortable again.

"It's not. Why don't you tell me what happened since you came back." After hesitating, she did. It took three hours, but she told him. By the end, his anger was filling the old mansion.

"I didn't want to come back," she said in a small voice, with a sob. He held her close, comforting the broken woman.

"I know Buffy, I know." And he did. Sort of. He was in hell though. But when his mind was returned to normal, he knew the emotions she had felt. Anger, fear, pain, betrayal. The list went on; she cried, for everything.

"I don't think I can do it anymore Angel." she chocked out after a few minutes.

"Shh. You can and will. I'll help you. I'll do everything I can," he said, kissing her eyes and sweeping the tears away with his lips. She hiccuped and looked at him, eyes wide. He smiled and kissed her nose. Hesitantly, she smiled back. He didn't say the words, but she knew that he wanted to. She'd told him everything Spike had said, and he wasn't about to spit the words out. Right now, they wouldn't be a reassurance.

"Thank you," she whispered before closing her eyes and going to sleep. The story took a lot out of her. He cradled her and stood. The curtains were drawn, so he walked around the house and carried her to the master bedroom. Gently, he placed her on the bed and laid beside her. He had his own story to tell, and was going to confuse her as much as it did him. His explanation about the cross was going to take the longest. It was far more complex than he told her. Luckily, he knew enough of it to simplify the story.

***

They awoke at two. It took Buffy a minute to figure out where she was and who was holding her. Angel had been awake a few minutes before her, but feigned sleep as he heard her heart speed during her awakening.

"Afternoon," he said after kissing the top of her head.

"You too," she said, yawning slightly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better. My back's on fire though."

"I'm not surprised. It should be fine with some ice," he said while gently moving away to look at her back. After lifting the shirt, he saw the bandages. There was no excess blood, but they did need to be changed. He said as much. Buffy sighed and told him to get the new bandages. He did. "This might hurt a little."

"Doubt I'll feel it," she said as he pulled off the tape. She felt it, it just didn't hurt as much as it should have. He looked at the area and grimaced. It was damp and white like most bandaged places are, but it was also covered in a thin layer of blood and antibodies. "What?" she asked when he didn't speak.

"Nothing," he said, reaching for the peroxide; alcohol would hurt too much. He moistened a cloth and began working on the area. Once it was clean, he put on a fresh dressing and pulled the shirt back down.

"Did I pass inspection?" she asked with a smile.

"Always," he said with his own smile. She laughed and rolled onto her back. Something was stopping the pain. She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not hurting," she said, confused. She looked at her wrists and saw the last wisps of blue magic seeping into her skin. "Willow," she said with a sigh. True enough, at Sunnydale University, Willow and Tara released hands as the numbing spell began taking effect.

"She's only trying to help," Angel said while rubbing her arms.

"Great record at helping she has." Buffy mumbled.

"She does. I seem to recall Willow helping us all out a few years ago."

"That was my fault," she said, ducking her head. He grasped her chin, tilting her head to look at him.

"It wasn't. Come on, we have things to talk about." Gently, he helped her walk to the couch in the other room. She sat down, then leaned against his chest. He placed an arm around her. "When they removed my soul, Wes found something about the curse. The original curse was that a moment of true happiness and I would be souled for eternity." She looked at him, shock written on her face.

"B-but what a-about-" she broke off, confused and embarrassed.

"That was the Judges' doing. Or someone around there. They cast some sort or ritual to take my soul that night. And I don't think it was a coincidence either."

"But Jenny said..."

"The curse had been uttered by the caster, yes. But she was old and her words were slurred." Slowly, Buffy began understanding everything.

"So it wasn't me."

"No. It wasn't either of us." Buffy smiled, beyond tears she was so happy. "And the curse they used to restore my soul was the same one." He placed a hand on her cheek and she brushed her lips over it. Her brain registered the words and she beamed. She hadn't misinterpreted what he'd said, which he was grateful for.

"That's great Angel," she said by kissing his cheek. She blushed slightly (Buffy BLUSHES?! he thought) and looked at a spot on the couch next to his head. He smiled and returned the gesture.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a little child," he said in a teasing tone. She gasped and stared before narrowing her eyes.

"Angel! I am not a little child!" she forcibly said. He smothered a grin as her eyes flashed in defiance. *This* was the Buffy he remembered. "You know that very well."

"I do," he said, eyes hooding slightly as he grinned. It was the same grin he'd worn the first time he'd met her. "In fact, I know that you're not a child." She sputtered, turning beet red. "Because a child-" she slapped a hand over his mouth. But it did nothing to block the laughter and other emotions in his eyes.

"I get the point," she said, removing her hand.

"Are you sure?'

"Yes," she said hastily as he pretended to be about to start again. She thought for a minutes then tilted her head and looked at him. His stomach dropped at the look. He knew what she was going to ask. "Why did you tell me? Why now?" Shit.

"Just good news Buffy, that's all," he said. She nodded. He let out a silent sigh of relief.

"It is good news. I'm glad for you." His heart twisted as she plastered on a false smile and darted her eyes away at the words. He gently grabbed her chin and tilted her head so she had no choice to look at him.

"I'm only telling you Buffy. I want nothing you are not willing to give me." She nodded, a tear of shame falling from her eye. Just one. But it was enough. "Hey, don't cry. Buffy, your thoughts are natural. You're entitled to them." She smiled. They sat there for a long while. She was staring off into space.

"Does anyone know where he's at?" Angel truly didn't know what to say.

"No. We haven't looked."

"I don't want him near Dawn."

"You should tell her." Buffy shook her head.

"No. NO Angel. I have reasons for not telling her. He's unstable for one. Who knows what he might do if she told him she knew, asking if it was true. No, I don't want her knowing."

"It's safer."

"No it's not. Dawn's a little reckless."

"Like you," he suggested.

"Not like me. I had to be reckless. No, she steals and sneaks out. I'm afraid she'd go after him."

"Buffy, she needs to know."

"No," she said firmly. He sighed, letting it drop, for now. "I'm sorry," she said.

"No, it's ok." They lapsed into silence. There was a knock on the door. She tensed. "Stay here," he said, setting her on the couch. Once she nodded, he went to the large door. "Who is it?"

"Anya." Buffy sneered and motioned for him to send her away.

"Not now Anya," Angel said. Anya huffed and teleported away. They rolled their eyes as he sat back down. He held her as she relaxed, watching the shadows from the curtain.

"You know, I was never afraid of the shadows until I became a Slayer. Then they put me in the institution....I always thought I'd learnt to deal with those fears," she said. He stroked her back and kept silent. "What were your afraid of?"

"When?" he asked, putting his chin on her head.

"When you...hell I don't know. What were you afraid of before you were turned?" He thought about the question for a while.

"I think nothing. Reality maybe, since I was almost always drunk," he said with a shrug. Buffy smiled and shook her head.

"Reality?"

"It was different back then Buffy." They lapsed into silence again.

"Angel?" she said after a while.

"Hm?"

"What did you want to be as a child?" He laughed.

"That is something I don't remember." He sighed and tried to recall his childhood. "I think I wanted to be king." Buffy snorted.

"Of course."

"And you wanted to be an ice-skater," he said matter-of-factly. She smiled and traced the scar on his eyebrow from one of the assassins.

"I did," she said.

"And now?"

"Now. I don't know. I want to make it to be an old women." He hugger her tightly.

"With me here, you will make it to whatever age you want." he whispered. She sighed contently, knowing she was safe. Everything seemed right.

A.N.: hey, no cliffie. Well, not really. Anyone wanna comment on the last few sentences? Please review.