"Hey, Luisa. Bread is...?" It was almost one, so Buffy was more than ready for lunch.
Luisa finished chopping the mass of garlic cloves, and then swept it into the bubbling pot. "There's arroz con pollo, if you'd like."
"Smells great, but I'm just going to make a sandwich to go. Don't want to deal with the noise of the dining room today."
Luisa nodded and pointed to one of the counters. Buffy placed two slices of bread on her plate and opened up one of the cabinets. Grabbing the jar of peanut butter, her face fell. It contained half a spoonful at best. "This jar's empty. Do you know if there's another jar someplace?"
"It would be in that cabinet. Xander's doing a grocery run tomorrow, so I guess for now, we're out."
Buffy stared at the empty jar a moment more, and finally tossed it into the recycling bin. Sighing, she made sure to add 6 jars of peanut butter to the pinned up shopping list. Opening the large, industrial fridge, Buffy pawed through it for a minute, trying to find an alternative. She wound up making a turkey sandwich instead. It wasn't what she wanted, but she'd deal with the peanut butter culprit momentarily.
Crossing back through the kitchen and out the front, she continued to the right, turned down the hall and pushed open the door of the library. "Dawn!"
Her sister slowly lifted her head, blinked owlishly and then bent her head back down. "I'm concentrating. Come back later."
Buffy walked into the room, her shoes clomping loudly until she was directly behind Dawn. Glancing down at the book Dawn was reading, it looked so boring that Buffy suspected even the former council wouldn't have willingly studied it. "Dawn," she again said, no quieter than before. "The peanut butter is all gone. I was all set to have a nice PB&J for dinner and then, boom, my dreams destroyed."
"So?" Dawn didn't even look up. Buffy reached down and pushed the book aside, while closing it with a thud. "Hey! You just lost my place."
"So? So you're the one who ate it all!" Buffy ignored Dawn's outburst, solely focused on the peanut butter crime.
"You can't prove that."
"I saw you eating a PB&J yesterday. And it is a well known fact that on multiple occasions you have put back empty containers. There was the orange juice nightmare three years ago, the ice cream scandal last year, and the Oreo situation just a month ago."
Dawn sighed. It appeared that study time was officially over. "Fine, string me up. Why were you just eating a sandwich for dinner anyway? It's not like we're currently in demon rampage mode."
"I just didn't feel like eating in the dining hall, that's all."
Dawn slanted her eyes toward her sister. "Have you spoken to Angel yet?"
"What?"
"Tall guy. Moody. Dresses in black."
"I know who he is, Dawn. I said hello to him yesterday."
"So the answer to my question would be a no."
"I don't see how I'm supposed to talk to him." Buffy began ticking off her various responsibilities on her fingers. "I have training classes, patrol, admin stuff, meetings, boyfriend outings and anyway..." Suddenly Buffy's voice sped up. "Angel and Gabrielle take all their meals together."
"Green is not a good look for you. It clashes with your skin tone."
"I am not jealous. I'm already in a relationship."
"And now your nose is growing. Add a few warts and you could be the lead in Wicked. Aside from the lack of a singing voice."
"Why do you think I'm jealous? You might recall that until yesterday, I was spending all my time trying to prevent a group of demons from performing a ritual involving child sacrifices?
"And now that that's over with, you conveniently decided to avoid the dining room."
Buffy could feel her cheeks burn. "Like you've talked to him."
"Actually I have. Or tried to. He's a master of the evasive maneuver."
"See, so that's that. He doesn't want to talk."
Dawn stood up, closing the book she had been reading with a heavy thud. "God, you're an idiot." She walked out of the library, book balanced under her arm, leaning against her hip. "Your issues have issues." And with that, she left.
Buffy plopped into the seat Dawn had just vacated. She was starting to get pissed off about this Angel business. She had nothing to say to him. He hadn't bothered trying to talk to her in nine years and then had the nerve to show up on her doorstep two weeks ago as if nothing had happened. She would love to know what Dawn thought she should say to the man. She took a bite of her sandwich, frowning as she tore into it.
—-
Three nights later, Buffy bolted upright in her bed. 2:30 in the morning. She hadn't even been asleep for more than an hour and a half. Still, just in case, she stilled. Nothing to hear, just the normal sighs and whispers of the floors and walls. She was about to lay back down, when something pinged in the back of her mind. She stood up, looked out the window and softly cursed.
Angel was outside, returning from – well, who knew where? - but the bigger problem was that he was turning left, which probably meant -
She quickly threw on socks, track pants and a sweatshirt over the tank top and panties she had been sleeping in. As soon as she laced up her sneakers and grabbed a couple of stakes, she ran down the steps and out the front door.
As she suspected, he was no longer visible. She trotted past the actual property line and scanned the field that bordered it. Not there either. Past that lay several acres of undeveloped woods. She couldn't have said how she knew, but she was willing to bet that the woods was where he had gone.
Buffy sprinted into a thick stand of trees, and five minutes later, was completely disoriented. She wandered around, softly calling his name, but had to finally admit that she had no idea where he was, had no idea where she was, and was unable to say whether she'd been out here for twenty minutes or three hours.
She stopped, centered herself and let her mind go blank. When she had first been called, Merrick had made her practice sensing vampires. She had never sensed anything other than boredom. When Giles had become her watcher, he was taken aback by her lack of proper slayer abilities. The only vampire she had ever been able to hone in on was Angel, a tingling that started in her belly and spread outward, a feeling that wasn't quite an electric shock, but still made her shiver. She had no idea if it was something about being a vampire with a soul that did it to her, although she had never had that feeling with Spike. Then again, she and Spike were always arguing, fighting or … engaged in other activities, and a slight buzzing would have been easily overlooked.
Now it was her only hope. She let thoughts of Angel wash over her. She had deliberately avoided thinking about their past, but now she let herself relive it, and with each memory, the faint tickling sensation became stronger. She spun around, knowing what direction to head in..
Ten minutes later she found him in a small clearing, surrounded by tall oaks.
"Angel, what the hell are you doing out here? It's dangerous."
He turned to her slowly, eyes wild, chest rising and falling rapidly. She had a sudden vision of him passing out from hyperventilating, and her being forced to somehow drag 6 feet of dead weight back to the house. "What are you doing?" she repeated, her tone sharper.
"I'm sorry." His voice sounded raw. "They died over and over. I should have done something."
Buffy shifted her weight as a feeling of uneasiness crept up her spine. She could see now that he was bleeding. Both palms sported cuts, plus he had a shallow gash on one arm. "What happened? Did you fall?" Easy enough to have stumbled on an exposed tree root. Even as she asked the question, she was trying to think how best to get him out of here. Plenty of demons could smell blood from quite a distance.
"So many people died. I just..." Each word came out slower and slower as if he was a toy with a dying battery.
"Angel, now is not the time to rehash your unsouled greatest hits."
"I thought they'd be alright. I had to make a choice."
"I have no clue what you're talking about, and I'm pretty sure this is not the right place for a discussion." She turned her head, trying to make sure all the shadows were just that, and not something a lot more sinister. "Angel, why don't we get out of here, and then you can tell me what's bothering you. I could make you some hot cocoa." She did her best to keep her voice soothing. She had no idea why Angel was so upset, but the bigger problem was getting out of the forest in one piece.
"I used to be able to hear the grass moving. The birds flying. I could hear insects crawling."
"You're upset because you can't hear the pitter patter of little centipede feet?" she said incredulously.
"It will be harder, but I'm going to make it better."
"I'm sure you will," Buffy said, hoping that placating him would help. Instead, Angel seemed even more agitated. "You have to snap out of this," she finally said, reaching out and shaking his shoulder. It seemed to center him a bit, his breathing slowed somewhat, and his eyes seemed more focused.
"We really have to get out of here." Buffy slowly surveyed the area, not bothering to hide her increasing dismay. There was a reason that she had rules about no less than a group of three, and always carry a cell when venturing into the woods. And she had ignored it all. "You wouldn't have any idea on how to get back, would you?" She wasn't particularly surprised by Angel's non-responsiveness.
"Angel." She was speaking slowly now, over enunciating a bit, as if Angel was a child. "There are a lot of demons in the woods. I think all the slayer mojo in the air attracts them. So, if you know the right way to go, please speak up."
"I can't taste the power anymore."
"Great." Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, great!" She gave Angel a hard shove, forcing him out of the way and let loose with a flying kick to the demon that suddenly appeared in front of them. It was as tall as Angel, and a lot more solid. Her whole body was vibrating from the initial kick. She punched it hard in the face, herding it away from Angel. The demon charged her, and before she could turn away, it had clawed her arm, ripping her sleeve and cutting her flesh.
Suddenly Buffy heard a shout. Angel tossed her a branch. Wielding it first like a club, she managed to get some solid blows in before she was able to force it right through the creature's eye. It let out a terrible high pitched scream, and then the forest was silent again.
Instantly Angel was by her side, his eyes clear, his expression concerned. "You're hurt. We need to get back."
"Gee, why didn't I think of that?" she mumbled under her breath.
In less than five minutes, Angel had led them to the edge of the field. By the time they were in front of the house, her cuts had already scabbed over, and Angel had withdrawn into himself again.
As they stepped into the hallway, she realized that she had no idea where Angel's room was located. She followed behind him as he climbed the stairs down to the basement. "Are you sure your room is down here?" The basement contained the training room, a separate weight room, a carpentry and metal working shop, and three small bedrooms. It tended to be noisy here during the day, and she couldn't recall ever using the guest rooms here. Turning right down the main hall, Angel headed down almost to the very end, on the opposite side of the building from where the back door was.
The room was so tiny that it made his old Sunnydale apartment seem palatial. It contained a twin bed (she wondered how he possibly fit on it), a stand next to the bed which contained a metal lamp with a plain white shade, and a battered six-drawer dresser. That was it. It didn't even have windows.
Buffy was stunned. True, they didn't have a tremendous amount of spare rooms, but there had to be something nicer than this. The room was small, dark and thoroughly depressing. She was embarrassed that it hadn't occurred to her to ask how he was getting on. She had been so upset with him that it had blinded her to even basic politeness.
"What are you doing for clothes?" She hadn't paid any attention to whether he had any luggage or not when he had shown up out of the blue. She felt horrified by her self imposed pity party.
"Xander took me shopping the day after I got here. I think Willow made him"
She nodded. That sounded about right. "Would you like a different room? Something bigger, with a window?"
"No!" His vehemence startled her. "I don't want a window." He was picking at his blanket, yanking at a thread. His eyes were glazed over again.
She stood, waiting for a minute, but he didn't say anything else. She didn't know what else to do, so finally she left to go to her own room after awkwardly saying goodnight.
She stripped back down to her tank top and underwear, physically worn out, but mentally wide awake. If she hadn't woken up, there was a good chance that Angel would now be dead. That thought wasn't something she could process, not now, not ever. It was obvious there was something wrong, and it was just as obvious that she had no clue what it was or what to do. He had been here sixteen days, and she had thought she could just avoid dealing with him. Buffy sighed, twisting on the bed, comprehending that this wasn't a problem she was going to solve tonight. Eventually she fell into a restless sleep, exhaustion finally pulling her under.
She hadn't been asleep for more than an hour when loud banging against her door woke her for the second time. Opening her door, she was surprised to find Willow there.
"Buffy, something's happened."