One eye slowly blinked open, the smell of bacon permeating the room. Damn that Angel. How can a girl stay asleep smelling that?
Buffy sat up in bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that proclaimed on the front, I'm the boss and on the back stated, And who might you be? It had been a gift from Xander. Heading into the kitchen, she looked at Angel who currently had his back to her. "You are so evil."
He half-turned, one corner of his mouth quirked up. "Evil, huh?" He turned back to the stove and opened the oven, sliding out a pan. "Freshly made biscuits," he announced. "And in the bowl on the table, I made honey butter to use on them."
"Really, really evil…" Buffy groaned.
Angel bit his bottom lip in an effort not to laugh. "I'm making scrambled eggs and bacon. How many strips do you want?"
"I am going to get so fat," she complained, as she used a pair of tongs to place the biscuits into a wicker basket that she carried to the dining room table.
"I'm pretty sure you get enough exercise at night that you don't have to worry."
"I guess killing demons does burn a lot of calories."
"Who said I was talking about killing demons?" His expression was completely innocent.
Buffy rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Evil, evil, evil," while Angel finally laughed.
—-
As they cleaned up the breakfast dishes, Buffy's thoughts turned to the day ahead. The weather outside was perfect and it was a rare Saturday to have no plans at all. Buffy was thinking a day at the beach sounded perfect when Angel interrupted her musings. "I'm going to start weeding that garden in the back."
"Weeding?" said Buffy, not bothering to hide her disappointment. "But…"
"Don't you have homework to do?" asked Angel.
"Yes," she sighed.
"Tell you what. Why don't you bring the lounge chair outside so you can do your homework and keep me company? In a couple of hours, we can do something else."
"Something like the beach?"
"Don't see why not."
Beach chair set up in the far corner of the garden, Buffy sat with her legs stretched out, book currently resting on her lap. Her eyes were half-closed as she watched Angel. He was on his knees, one hand braced on the ground. The tip of his tongue was visible between his lips, the other hand holding a weeding knife as he carefully worked the earth. His attention was solely on the task in front of him, but Buffy wasn't bothered by his complete lack of notice regarding her. She knew that if she had any kind of stress, he would somehow be aware. She was focused when she slayed, but other than that she was easily distracted. It amazed her that Angel could shut out the world so easily.
She slanted her eyes back to her book; if she wanted to get to the beach, she'd have to get some of her homework done. She sighed, finding The Golden Bowl horribly boring. She wondered if Angel had read it. And if so, maybe he could just summarize it for her so she didn't have to keep torturing herself.
Buffy read for ten minutes, decided that reading one more word would cause her to scream, and lifted her head up. Angel currently had his back to her. She watched as he unfurled his right hand, reaching to the back of his neck as he stood up. A second later, his white T-shirt had been unceremoniously tossed to the ground. Her mouth went dry as she watched the tattoo on his shoulder ripple, the sweat on his skin glisten, and the hair on the back of his neck curl up in the heat. She was already wondering if she could sneak up on him when a pounding at the front door derailed her thoughts.
"I'll get it," she grumped.
As she opened the door, her posture stiffened as her arms crossed over her chest. "Riley," she bit out. "What do you think you're doing here?"
Riley looked over her head, into the mansion. "Your psychotic boyfriend isn't here, is he?"
Quivering in fury, her eyes narrowed. "My 'psychotic boyfriend' risked his life to save me from you and your pals who kidnapped me, locked me in a cage, and sent a constant stream of demons for me to fight."
Riley dipped his head so that he was looking at the ground. "You're right. Can we start again? I'm sorry. I know that's hardly adequate…"
"You think?"
Riley shifted his feet, obviously uncomfortable. "I brought your phone back."
Buffy snatched it out of his hands, clearly expecting him to leave.
"I come from a military family," Riley explained. "My grandfather served. My dad and my uncles served. My brother's in the navy. I joined the army and when they asked if I wanted to join a special intelligence unit, I jumped at the chance." He was looking directly at her and although she didn't want to, she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "You're taught to see everything as black and white. Good guys and bad guys. Demons and humans. I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I'm not a demon," she said stiffly.
"I know that now. But even if you were…" Riley sighed. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I think something odd is going on down there though. Something secret. Something big. I wanted to warn you, that's all. If I find out more, I'll let you know."
She nodded. "Thanks," her tone making it clear the conversation was over.
She went back inside and found Angel sitting on the couch, shirt still off. "Who was at the door?"
She thought about lying because she knew he'd get upset, but rejected that thought as soon as it surfaced. "Riley," she said without emotion.
"Finn?" Angel began getting up, anger darkening his face.
"He's gone. He wanted to apologize." The low rumble that erupted sounded remarkably like a demon's growl. "And warn me. He thinks there's something going on in the Initiative. Some scary project."
"If there is, we'll deal," Angel said, simply, making it clear he wasn't particularly impressed or worried. Buffy nodded her agreement.
She crossed over to the couch and then stopped as she got closer. "You stink," she said, wrinkling her nose.
Twisting his head, while picking his arm up, he stuck his nose into his arm pit. "I guess I am a little ripe."
"A little? You need to get into the shower," Buffy said, as she shoved him off the couch. He grabbed her and pulled her up next to him.
"You'll have to come with me," Angel said with a grin. "You know I can't reach my back."
—-
Heading over to Restfield cemetery, Angel decided to bring up one of his favorite topics. "A Moroccan restaurant opened up about thirty minutes away. I was thinking we'd try it next week." He tried to sound casual, but he suspected that he didn't hide his eagerness. Now that he could taste food, he wanted to try everything. He figured if someone in the world liked it, he might also and he didn't want to miss out. Buffy did not share his enthusiasm. She could not fathom why anyone would want to try a grasshopper taco, alligator etouffee, or fish head stew. But he thought Moroccan cooking might not be too far afield so he was hopeful.
She turned to him as Angel tried to interpret her look as yay or nay, but then she spread her hand on his chest. He instantly stilled, his forward motion halted.. She went up on tiptoes and he bent down as her mouth brushed his ear. "I sense something over by the hiking path." Her breath tickled his cheek.
Angel took a step toward the path, but Buffy gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
"Newbie, remember?"
He reluctantly nodded yes and continued towards Restfield. Willow sent them a daily morgue report; if the death was suspicious, they headed over to the grave to wait for the vampire to rise. Angel turned his head to watch Buffy disappear into the gloom.
Although a partial moon was out tonight, as soon as Buffy stepped into the woods, the world plunged into darkness. During the day, this spot was popular with runners, bikers, and dog walkers. At night, no one ventured here. She walked carefully, turning her head from side to side, trying to determine if she had actually seen anything. A rustling to her left made her stop short and raise her stake in anticipation. She was already pivoting when a deer bounded onto the path twenty feet in front of her, disappearing into the trees on the other side.
Buffy brushed her face with her forearm, pushing tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead out of the way. Cocking her head, she tried to feel if anything odd was out there. She walked in a little further, still unable to see or sense anything, when something slammed into her back. Instinct took over and she rolled with the hit, using momentum to go into a forward somersault. She immediately bounced back on her feet. Buffy kicked out to the side, but her foot was grabbed and she was tossed off balance. Punching up with her left fist, she scored a solid hit and for the first time was able to make out her opponent. Vaguely humanoid in overall shape, she quickly grabbed a dagger from her thigh holster and plunged it into its side. Or tried to, anyway. The thick scales that covered its skin made it impossible for her to thrust her weapon with any effectiveness. She took a step back and snap-kicked up, noting with satisfaction that its head was pushed back.
She was all set to follow up with another blow to the head. When it came close, she felt an agonizing pain. Too late, she realized it sported a long spear-like attachment from its forearm; it had managed to bisect her arm. She was bleeding too much and too fast, and finding it hard to focus. With a tremendous effort, Buffy kicked it in the face again, away from her. An instant later, she managed to do a very sloppy backwards handspring that got her out of immediate range. And then she ran as fast as she could.
It felt like she was moving in slow motion. When she reached the clearing, she thought she had been running for an hour. In reality, it had only been a couple of minutes. "Angel," she managed to gasp and then crashed to her knees.
Angel had just come back from dusting both the newbie vamp that they had anticipated and another one, when he saw Buffy collapse. Rushing over to her side, he cradled her to his chest. He then saw the blood dripping from a deep gash in her arm. Shrugging off his shirt, he ripped it into strips. First he bandaged up her arm, using another strip to wipe away as much blood as he could.
"Stay with me." The makeshift bandage was quickly soaked with her blood. It wouldn't take long before the scent of her blood would be a beacon to every vampire in the area. "Buffy!" Angel tried to keep his rising panic out of his voice. She was already looking too pale and her eyes appeared to be unfocused.
Angel took a deep breath and slowly let it out; that always calmed him down. Another inhale/exhale, rational thought returning, as he pulled his phone out. "Giles? Buffy got hurt on patrol." He could practically see the worry likely sparking in the other man's eyes. "We're in a clearing, near where the hiking trail begins. I'm going to be heading out to the main road. Hurry. She's bleeding pretty badly."
Angel easily hoisted Buffy into his arms as he tried to move as fast as possible to the pickup point. Almost as soon as they arrived, Giles' car screeched to a stop next to them. Angel was already yanking the back door open, even as Giles was ordering him to get into the car.
Giles immediately sped off. Angel wound up buckling Buffy and himself in the back seat while the car was moving. His shirt was stiff with her blood. "Buffy?" Her head lolled against him as he reached for her. "Buffy, talk to me." Stoic still tended to be his default mode, but at the moment worry was practically dripping off of him.
"What happened?"
"I don't know." Admitting that cut Angel to the core. "We split up. I went into Restfield and took down a couple of vampires. Buffy heard something on the hiking trail and headed that direction. When I returned…" Angel found he couldn't continue. He should have insisted on going with her.
"Angel, you're an excellent fighter, but you're only human. There wouldn't have been anything you could have done." Surprised by Giles' lack of censure, Angel wondered if staying human was going to cost Buffy's life someday.
By unspoken agreement, Giles drove to his place as it was closer than the mansion. Once there, he went upstairs to get medical supplies. Angel carefully carried Buffy inside, relieved that the wound was no longer weeping blood. But Buffy was as pale as the vampires she normally dispatched, her body limp in his arms. Giles quickly cut off the sleeve of Buffy's ruined shirt and applied iodine to the wound. The sting of the liquid caused her to groan in protest.
"She's coming around."
"What happened?" Buffy's eyes were barely open. "Angel?" she said groggily.
"I'm right here." He kneeled on the floor in front of the couch. "Some demon got you."
"Oh, right. Mr. Lizard."
"Can you be a bit more specific?" Giles was trying his best to remain calm by going into watcher mode, but his worried expression gave him away.
"Scaly skin. Stood upright. Had BBQ skewers attached to its arms."
"Polgara," Angel and Giles said in unison.
"Pierogi?" Buffy mumbled. "Didn't think it was Polish." She closed her eyes and fell asleep.
"Is she going to be alright?"
"She's lost a lot of blood, but fortunately her healing is already kicking in. She should take it easy tomorrow."
"Thanks Giles. Is it okay if she rests here for a bit before I bring her home?"
"She is still my slayer. Not something you have to ask."
—-
Angel had been extra solicitous in the morning. He had brought up a tray with breakfast and left it on the dresser along with a note. When Buffy woke up, she found freshly squeezed orange juice, cereal, a bowl of fruit, and a pot of coffee. Her arm was a bit sore, but the wound was already healing up. She would have to get more information about Mr. Boney Arms later. Right now, she had to get ready for class.
—-
"Don't forget, class. Five hundred word essay due next Friday."
Buffy felt that the world was against her. Between the run in with the demon last night and now an essay on the world's most boring book, she was having a most unpleasant day. She stepped into the hallway and her mood immediately lightened when she saw Angel heading toward her. And then her face instantly fell.
"Don't you have work?"
"No meetings this afternoon and I got done what I needed to do this morning. I thought an impromptu picnic might be nice," he said, as he held out a basket. "Unless you don't want to."
When he became human almost three months ago, he'd hang around outside and they'd eat lunch together everyday. Little by little, he had joined the world, which also meant that she was no longer his sun. His head was tilted a little, one large hand wrapping around her waist; an open smile was rare for him. Maybe it was more that his world had expanded, rather than her being shifted from the center.
She leaned into him, the thrill of feeling his body next to hers sparking along her nerve endings. "I'd love to picnic with you."
—-
"I'm heading to the library for a Willow study session. See you later for patrol."
Angel immediately sprung up from the couch. "How 'bout I drive you?"
"No real need."
"Aren't you carrying books?"
"Well yes, but…"
"But this way, I can get you and we can head straight to patrol. Doesn't that make more sense?"
"I guess."
True to his word, Angel picked her up after her study session and they did their standard patrol route. Buffy was on the lookout for the Polgara, but it didn't show. Meanwhile, Angel shadowed her every step. At one point he was so close to her that she had no room to punch the vampire she was fighting and wound up accidentally elbowing Angel in the ribs. "Back up," she complained, while the vampire she was attacking grinned.
"Trouble in paradise?" he snarked.
"No!" Buffy said, annoyed.
"Seems like he doesn't trust you to get the job done."
Buffy responded with a stake to the heart.
As soon as the fight was over, she whirled around to face Angel. "You need to give me some breathing room here."
"Sorry," Angel said with his hands held out in surrender. "Didn't mean to get in your way."
—-
The next day was close to a repeat. Angel once again showed up to take her to lunch after her Astronomy class ended. Once was a nice surprise, twice was suspicious. As he was making dinner, he came into the living room a few times, ostensibly to retrieve something. However, Buffy could feel his gaze burning into her. And during patrol, he kept getting in her way again.
As she and Willow exited their psychology class together, Buffy complained to her friend.
"He's behaving very weirdly. During patrol last night he was so close I almost wound up punching him in the ribs."
"He's worried," said Willow with an expression of studied calm. The two girls made their way over to a bench and sat.
"About what?"
Willow shook her head at her friend's obliviousness. "Buffy… two and a half weeks ago you were kidnapped. Three days ago you were skewered. He's trying to protect you the only way he knows how."
Buffy's expression became one of surprised understanding. And then immediately turned into a frown. "Well unfortunately, I'm the slayer and he's not. It's cute, but very annoying. I'm gonna have to get him to back off."
Willow pursed her lips. "Good luck with that. Angel's pretty stubborn when it comes to worrying about you."
—-
There was an hour to go before they headed out to patrol. Buffy was curled up on the club chair, reading her sociology textbook. She glanced over at Angel, who had his back against the armrest of the couch, engrossed in an insanely long novel. Knowing him, there was a good chance it wasn't even in English. Angel's phone went off and Buffy started counting silently in her head. She wondered exactly how long it would take him to figure it out. She almost got to twenty when Angel shifted and dug into his pocket, managing to answer just in time.
"''Lo." There was the slightest wariness in his voice, which almost instantly disappeared. "Good, how are you?" Buffy watched as Angel listened. "Thanks, but probably not. I'll let you know if I change my mind. Yeah, sure." He hung up and went back to reading.
Buffy waited half a minute (which she felt was better than anyone should have expected) before her curiosity could no longer be denied. "Who was that?"
"Nobody important," he said, only half-paying attention.
"Someone I know?"
"Nope."
"Angel."
He must have seen in the set of her jaw that she wasn't going to let it go. "Eddie from work," he said simply. "One of the account managers. He wanted to know if I wanted to go to that sports bar over on Sussex tomorrow and watch the game on the big screen they have."
"So why don't you go?"
"Patrol," said Angel, more focused on his book than on Buffy.
She dropped her eyes back down to her textbook, but in reality her gaze was focused on Angel. It took a few minutes, but Angel's attention was once more engrossed in the novel he was reading. Buffy stood, crossed over to the couch, and squeezed in between the back of the couch and Angel's lean body. He mumbled a greeting, his arm automatically wrapping around Buffy's shoulders. As her hand snaked under his gray T-shirt and rested on his hard abs, his attention still seemed focused on his book.
She slowly moved her hand upwards, until her index finger was able to gently swipe against his nipple, causing it to harden. "You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah," he said, the word escaping him with a soft sigh. Buffy waited. It took longer this time, but eventually he started reading again.
She started her gentle attack again, but almost immediately switched to her fingernail scraping against the now distended flesh. Only a second passed before her other hand rubbed the cotton fabric of his sweatpants against his length. "I love you more than anything."
"Yes…" the word was more of a moan as the book fell to the floor with a thud. Angel's eyes had closed, his long lashes casting a shadow against his cheekbones.
She gripped him a little more firmly through his pants while she nibbled on his earlobe. "But you're driving me crazy."
"Yes. God. More," Angel babbled.
Buffy slipped her hand under the waistband and began stroking him in a steady rhythm. "You can't be on top of me all the time."
"Yes, please. Feels so good," he said as his hips began to lift off the coach, thrusting into her fist.
"You're going to go on Friday and have fun." Both her hands were on him now, one hand gliding ever faster over his length, the other rubbing against the sensitive head.
Just the back of Angel's head was against the couch, his breathing reduced to short pants. He moaned Buffy's name and the word yes, his face taut with lust, as his orgasm swept through him.
Buffy slipped off the couch to grab some tissues. After she had cleaned him up and his breathing had returned to normal, she cheerfully said, "So time to call Eddie back and tell him you'll go with him tomorrow."
"What?" Angel said, still a bit dazed. "What are you talking about?"
"Just now. I asked if you wanted to go out on Friday with your friend and you said yes."
"That doesn't count. My brains were scrambled at the time."
"Angel," she sighed. "I know you worry, but I can take care of myself."
"You shouldn't patrol alone. It's dangerous."
"What do you think I did when you were in LA? And even most of last year." She could see guilt begin to overtake his expression. "Hey. No reason to beat yourself up. I can handle myself."
"What if the Polgara demon shows up?"
"I promise you, I won't engage." She meant it. She was pretty sure quickly cutting off its head was not engaging it.
"All right," Angel said reluctantly. "If you're sure."
"Very sure."
—-
Angel stood outside the bar, still unhappy that she had talked him into this. He didn't like Buffy being out there by herself and social gatherings were no longer his forte. But Buffy had been pretty adamant about him going, so here he was. He stepped inside, the high ceilings making the place even noisier. Most of the crowd seemed to be mid-twenties to early thirties. The young professional crowd, such as it was in Sunnydale.
He scanned the space, finally spotting Eddie over by the bar. "Hope you weren't waiting long."
"No, just got here myself." Eddie was dressed in a pale blue polo shirt and khaki pants, pretty much the standard uniform of the majority of the men here. Angel, of course, was dressed as he normally was - long sleeved, dark crew neck sweater and black pants that did little to hide his muscular build. Buffy had managed to convince him to leave his duster at home, although he felt a bit naked without it. "Hey Rick!" Eddie yelled to a man behind the bar. "What's shakin'?"
Rick walked over; since the name of the place was Rick's Sports Bar and Grill, Angel assumed he was the owner. "Eddie," Rick said with a smile. "Here to watch the game?"
"Yup. This is Liam, a friend from work." Introductions over, Eddie asked "tap or something better?"
"Better," Rick replied.
""Rick makes his own craft beer," Eddie explained. "The man is a true genius."
"Thanks for the pressure. Just started serving my latest creation tonight. It's a full-bodied dark ale. Think you're up for it?" he asked, teasing.
"Bring it on," Eddie replied.
Angel was actually enjoying the banter; obviously these two had known each other for quite a while. "I'll see if it compares to a good Guinness."
The beer turned out to be excellent. As he and Eddie began to talk, Angel found himself relaxing. Maybe this wasn't a terrible idea. The game started and while he preferred hockey, the basketball game was fast-paced. He had just started on his second beer when Eddie whispered, "There's a hot chick checking you out."
Angel's reaction was to shrug and yell at the TV when a free throw was missed.
"I'm thinking you misunderstood. When I say hot chick, I mean supernova."
"Not interested. I have a girlfriend," Angel elaborated when it was apparent that Eddie could not fathom why he wasn't turning around. Unfortunately, it didn't have the desired effect.
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-six." Plus two hundred and fifty, Angel silently added.
"You are way too young to tie yourself down. There's a whole world of female delights out there," Eddie said with a smirk.
"Still don't care."
"At least give the girl a look. No harm in that, is there?"
Angel sighed. He really just wanted to watch the game, but it was obvious that wasn't going to happen unless Eddie moved on. "Fine," he said, letting his annoyance come through. He swiveled his bar stool and found himself breathless. Fifteen feet away from him was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his long existence. Her thick, dark hair fell in waves down her back, her eyes were the deep blue of the Pacific ocean, her lips were plump and sensuous. Her skin was flawless and bronzed from the sun, her breasts full, the darker tinge of her nipples barely discernible under her top. One of the women she was with said something and she laughed, a rich and throaty sound.
He blinked, forcing his mind to slow down as he looked her over more carefully. She was a goddess, but a fully human one. He could recognize a demon no matter how thorough the disguise and she wasn't.
She smiled at him then, an expression he was all too familiar with. It was the smile Eve had used on Adam after eating the forbidden fruit. It was the smile Darla had used on countless men as she lured them to their deaths. It was the smile Biddy Flannery, the scullery maid, had used on a fourteen-year-old Liam Murphy, as she taught him the pleasures of the flesh. Angel simply turned his back on her.
Eddie looked at Angel, incomprehension clouding his features. "She wants you, man."
"Yeah, I got that."
"You don't think she's gorgeous?"
Angel laughed a little. "She might be the most physically perfect woman I've even seen."
"It's not like anyone else is ever going to know about it." And by anyone else, Angel knew Eddie meant Buffy.
Angel did not open up to people. Certainly not about his emotions. But he was working on his third beer and although he was far from drunk, it had loosened his tongue. "My girlfriend, Buffy…" He trailed off for a moment. "I hurt her more than you could imagine." He closed his eyes for a second as all the nightmares she had endured briefly overtook him. "She still loved me, though I don't know why. I don't deserve it." He struggled trying to find the words to explain everything Buffy was. "She believes in me," he finally said.
"All right, I get it. Can't blame a guy hoping for a vicarious thrill."
Angel was trying to think of a clever comeback when the room began to swim. Somehow, his very sense of self was disintegrating. He managed to pry his phone out of his pocket and hit the number to auto-dial. "Buffy?" he gasped. "Something's-" He never finished as his phone fell from fingers that no longer worked.
—-
"Buffy? Something's-"
The call was cut off. Buffy immediately dialed back, but it simply went to voicemail. Seconds ticked by as panic overtook her. Then her slayer instincts took over and she shoved her fear deep inside. She stowed extra weapons on her person, locked the door, and ran as fast as possible to the sports bar.
As she approached, she immediately spotted Angel's boat of a car parked in front. At least that meant he had made it to his outing. She stepped inside, her eyes sweeping the room, but he was nowhere to be found. She stepped up to the bar, "Hi," she said to the bartender. "I'm looking for my boyfriend. Tall guy, broad shoulders, wearing a dark sweater."
"Oh yeah. The guy with Eddie. I'm pretty sure they went out to the patio," he said, pointing to a door at the far right.
Buffy nodded her thanks and quickly went through the door. The outdoor space had a flagstone floor, lit with lanterns and string lights. There were groups of tables and chairs as well as potted plants, but Buffy barely registered the decor.
"Angel," she called. She had spotted him at the opposite end on the patio, on his hands and knees. Jogging towards him, she yelled his name again. And then her world shattered.
He picked up his head, his eyes glittering yellow. His mouth was smeared with blood and she could see it dripping down his chin. Her vision blurred as she stopped her forward motion, her entire body trembling. The word no reverberated in her skull like a drumbeat.
Still shaking, she managed to retrieve a stake from her boot. She knew this was what Angel would want. After that, her mind shut down. She couldn't think about it. She took another step forward and then noticed the woman, also on her hands and knees next to him. She was otherworldly gorgeous. Obviously the vampire who had sired him. How did she get close enough? Buffy swiped at her eyes. It didn't matter. She'd stake her first and then…her thoughts floundered.
The woman leaned in to Angel, her face turning to his when Angel's back arched. He made a sound that sounded like a hiss to Buffy. The claws on his right hand came close to slashing her face, but the woman scurried away at the last instant. Buffy didn't understand what she had just witnessed as she stepped closer. "Angel?" she whispered, willing her voice to remain steady. And then the stake dropped from suddenly boneless fingers.
In between Angel's hands was a headless, dead bird. Her heart began to pound as the taste of bile coated her throat. Angel pushed his face into the bird's ripped open belly, pulled out some insides with his teeth, and swallowed it down. Buffy covered her mouth as she looked away, choking down bile. For the first time since she had walked onto the patio, she looked around. The hairs on her arm stood up as her slayer senses started to go into overdrive. One person was sitting on their knees, batting at the air. Several were curled into little balls, napping. One was carefully licking their hands. "What's going on?" she finally managed. Angel picked his head up and tilted it, looking at her quizzically. He crawled over to her and rubbed his head against her pants leg. She stared down at him, unsure of what to do and finally stroked his head. A contented rumble rose up from deep in Angel's chest. She looked down at Angel and then looked again at everyone else in the room. "This isn't a mass hallucination, is it?" she sighed.
"I'll be right back," she finally said. She ran back to the bar and practically snarled at the bartender. "Where's the owner of this joint?"
"You're looking at him," he said mildly.
"You're Rick?"
Rick nodded. "In the flesh."
Buffy half-leapt across the bar, grabbing Rick's shirt in her fist. "Undo the spell."
"Spell?" There was puzzlement and a bit of fear in his expression. "Miss, I don't know who you are, but you need to calm down."
"Don't tell me to - come with me," she said, her grip on his upper arm not giving him much choice. "Walk," she said, as she began dragging him down the length of the bar. She paused for a moment and stuffed a bunch of napkins in her pocket.
"Okay, I'll come with you," his demeanor made it clear he was humoring her, although he actually didn't have a lot of say in the matter. "Lacey!" he yelled to the other bartender. "Watch things for a minute."
"Out on the patio. What do you see?"
When Rick finally turned back to her, he was obviously taken aback. "Are they on drugs?"
"I wish," she mumbled. "Angel, the one I was looking for, what did he do while he was here?"
Rick shrugged. "Normal stuff. Watched the game. Checked out a really gorgeous girl," Buffy tried to tamp down her jealousy, "but he didn't seem very impressed." Buffy's jealousy instantly vanished. "Ate some peanuts. Had three mugs of beer."
Immediately suspicious, she asked, "What kind of beer?"
"Beer I brew myself," he said proudly. "Tonight I tried out my latest creation, Cat Scratch Fever."
Buffy's eyes widened. "How do you make beer?"
"High level? Steep your grains and ferment it. You add some flavorings. This time I added catmint, hence the name."
She was beginning to get a bad feeling about this. "Where did the catmint come from?"
"Turns out my usual supplier didn't have it, so I got it from that store called 'The Magic Box'. Do you know it?"
She sighed. Somehow the catmint had been hexed or something. "I hate to tell you this, but your beer? Turns people into cats."
"What?"
"Look at them," she said while pointing in the general direction of the patio. "I've seen the movie and I know The Curse of the Cat People when I see it."
Horror, disbelief and finally, resignation set in. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Number one; get rid of the beer. Keep everyone on the patio for now. I'll call as soon as I know more. Also help me get my boyfriend into the car." She walked to the back again and bent down until she was at eye level with Angel. "Come on, kitty. Time to go home." She used the napkins to clean his face up as best she could, all the while ignoring his mewling protests. It wasn't easy, but she and Rick finally got Angel to jump into the backseat of his car. She gave up on the seatbelt after Angel made it very clear he was not going to wear that thing. Sliding into the driver's seat, she stared at the dashboard. Angel was going to have a cow and a heifer once he found out she had driven his car.
Slowly maneuvering through the streets of Sunnydale, the speedometer stayed at the five miles per hour mark. When a car behind her honked in annoyance, Buffy slammed the brakes in a panic. Fortunately, the other car didn't ram into her, though Angel did let out a sudden yowl. "You wouldn't have had that problem if you'd worn your seatbelt," said Buffy through gritted teeth.
When they finally pulled in front of the mansion, Buffy rested her head against the steering wheel and indulged in a silent prayer of thanks for making it in one piece. As she opened the back door, Angel immediately bounded out and disappeared. "Great," she groaned. "Angel, where are you? Here, kitty, kitty." Although honestly she wasn't sure that someone over six feet tall and two hundred pounds could ever be called a kitty.
She finally found him in the back, perched on top of the stone wall that enclosed the garden. "Come on down," she said, waving her arms. Angel stared at her, unblinking. She started to climb up, Angel simply scampered away. This is not going to work she thought to herself. She pulled out her phone and dialed the big guns.
"Will? Hey, I know it's late but there's a stray cat in the back and I'm trying to entice it to come down. Any thoughts?"
She could hear Willow talking to someone else but couldn't make out what was being said. "My friend Tara used to own a cat. She said a can of tuna works like a charm." Buffy sagged in relief. She could manage that. At least she didn't have to run out and buy a box of Purina cat chow.
An hour later Buffy stared at her phone and reluctantly dialed her best friend yet again. "Will, I'm sorry, I just." She leaned her head against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "No, the tuna did the trick eventually. But could you come over?" She sighed in relief. She knew that Willow would be wondering why Angel wasn't there to fix her obvious distress but Willow would figure it out soon enough. She was wrung out. The tuna had worked but even so, it had taken twenty minutes to coax Angel into the house. And once inside, and able to finally take a good look at him in the light, it was apparent that his clothes were smeared with blood, dirt and who knew what and would have to be removed. Wrestling clothes off of a six foot one inch tall cat was not the most fun Buffy had ever had - it was sort of like a game of twister where as soon as one body part was pinned down, another one wiggled free. Finally she managed and once the completely naked Angel was sitting on his haunches, examining her, she promptly burst into tears. What if he stayed a cat forever? Her tears prompted him to rub his head against her belly and that only made her cry harder. After blowing her nose, she went upstairs followed by Angel. She decided just to put a pair of sweatpants on him, she figured that would be the simplest. Miraculously, he wasn't too squirmy. That's when she decided to call Willow back. Hopefully her friend could figure out some answers.
Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the front door. "Door's open," yelled Buffy, careful not to actually give an all access invitation. She was on the couch with Angel's head on her lap. He was purring contentedly as she scratched behind his ears.
"So what's the problem? And where's the kitten?"
"You're looking at him," said Buffy glumly.
"Angel?"
"Beer with magic catnip. Beer should be outlawed."
"That seems kind of a radical solution." Buffy glared at her. "But the one hundred percent correct one," Willow hurriedly added. She looked at Angel whose eyes were half closed. "He's kind of cute like this."
"Am I going to have to buy a litter box?" Buffy said with sudden rising panic. "Does Angel need to be dewormed? What is that anyway?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Will he be Angel again?"
"So the problem is only because he drank magic beer? No separate spells?"
"No. One of the ingredients came from The Magic Box."
"Lydia," said Willow, tapping her finger against her chin. "The owner of The Magic Box. She has an odd sense of humor. Once the beer leaves his system he should be fine. So figure at most a day."
"Thank you." Buffy relaxed upon hearing Willow's pronouncement but then sat back up. "I have to call the bar and let the owner know. He's got a whole room full of cat people and none of them are singing 'Memories'. She retrieved her phone from her pocket and quickly explained the situation. Buffy then turned back to Willow. "I hate to ask, but I really should patrol. Can you stay here tonight? There's a spare bedroom upstairs. I just need to put sheets on the bed."
"Show me where the linen closet is and I'll do it. Go patrol." Buffy stood up, causing Angel to make an annoyed noise at losing his human pillow. She crossed over to Willow and hugged her. "What would I do without you?'
"You're never going to find out," she said.
—-
Angel surveyed the two creatures from his position on the couch. He recognized both their smells which he found comforting. One of them left as he narrowed his eyes. That one he regarded as his. He meowed his displeasure which caused the other one to scratch under his chin. "This is the weirdest thing ever." He didn't understand the words but the tone wasn't angry or upset and that was all he cared about. "Be right back." The Fuzzy One headed up the stairs as Angel burrowed into the couch, waiting for her return.
When the Fuzzy One came back, it brought something with her as she sat on the edge of the couch. It took up most of her lap, which Angel didn't understand. Laps were meant for him. He tried to push it away with his nose, causing the Fuzzy One to make a weird unhappy sound. "Have homework to do, sorry bub." She reached out and patted his shoulder, but it was obvious she wasn't paying him any attention. Finally he jumped off the couch and curled up on the floor.
His eyes narrowed as he kept watch. The Fuzzy One stretched out on the couch and eventually her breathing slowed and deepened. He meowed loudly several times but the sleeping body didn't awaken. He decided that it would be a good time to do some exploring.
He found a large dust bunny under the table and started pushing it around, but gave up after a minute. Then he poked around in the various rooms, savoring the smells. When he made his way into the kitchen, he purred as the smell of food wafted over him. He gracefully jumped up on the counter, his nose twitching. He could feel a breeze and looked up. It took two tries, but he managed to dig his claws into the top of the open window. It was a tight fit as he carefully squeezed through.
The top of the frame scraped against his back. Angel shoved his body more strongly so that his waist was now stuck between the top of the window frame and the open window. His upper body was hanging upside down against the outside wall. He scrambled with his back legs, trying to get more purchase, when he felt a tug. That annoying second skin had become hooked on something. He pushed harder, hearing a satisfying rip as he leapt down. The cool air felt wonderful on his skin.
The garden was awash with scents. The humusy smell of the earth, the vegetative smell of the grass, the scat of various animals and …a cat? Angel stared into the darkness, his pupils constricted. That was not allowable as he softly growled. Lifting his butt into the air, he sprayed. Once the entire garden was marked, he relaxed. He was the alpha, no other cat would dare intrude on his territory. Content, he bounded into the night.
Quickly veering away from Sunnydale's suburban streets, Angel made his way past a copse of trees. Flattening his ears, he slowly crept forward on his belly, silently stalking until his hand shot out. His eyes glittered at the mouse he had caught. He casually tossed it from one hand to the other as the mouse squealed in terror. Continuing to bat at it, he finally stopped when the mouse was dead and then continued on his way. He tried to take down a rabbit he spotted in a field but it managed to escape into its den. Angel waited a while, hoping it would come back out, but he finally gave up. As he walked away, a faint scent tickled his nose. The one he thought of as his.
Like a homing pigeon, he locked onto the scent. As he got closer, he moved faster. Something was wrong. Angel's palms and knees were abraded as he raced but he didn't notice. He needed to find her. Stopping short, he skidded a bit on the ground. He could smell her blood, his hackles rising as he watched her battle a creature he had no name for. He yowled, launching himself onto the back of the thing that was hurting what was his. He dug deeper causing the monster to scream in pain. Angel tried to bite at the juncture between head and neck but although his teeth were sharp, the skin was leathery and he couldn't manage. Before Angel could think of a different strategy, the creature slammed his back against a tree, causing Angel to feel agonizing pain across his entire body. He hissed but held on, trying in vain to bite through the scaly flesh. The second time he was banged against the tree it was too much and with a moan he let go.
The creature turned to face him and Angel knew he was about to be hurt or worse. He tried to brace himself but the blow never came. She was there, metal gleaming brightly in her hand as she slashed in front of her. The monster screamed, the noise so high pitched that his ears hurt. It disappeared into the darkness and he could see her body tense in preparation to run after it. He watched as she turned to look back at him and instead sunk down next to him. "You could have been killed. What were you thinking?" She was upset. Her face was wet. Leaning over he licked the salt off her cheeks. Her arm had a deep gash in it and he began to methodically clean the blood next. "We need to get back. Neither of us are exactly in fighting shape at the moment." He watched as she removed one of the extra skins she was wearing on top. "You're a little too Call of the Wild at the moment though." She took the extra skin and tied it around him. Normally he would have protested, but he was tired and hurt. Plus the skin smelled like her so he didn't altogether mind it.
A ringing sound bleated. Angel knew it was the little box that two-leggers yelled at. She fished around and pulled it out of her second skin. ""Willow? Don't worry, he's with me. Turned out to be a good thing. That Polgara got the drop on me but Angel attacked it. No, got away. We're about to limp home after licking our wounds. One of us literally." He closed his eyes as her voice rumbled through his chest. "I guess that makes more sense. You know that field behind Sunnyrest? Yup, off Thompson. Thanks, Will." She made the box disappear and then she scratched the top of his head as he purred.
Angel could hear one of those large boxes that moved. The noise stopped and a two-legger walked toward them. He knew this one's smell also and he remembered he wasn't friendly toward it. He bristled, a low growl erupting. "Cut it out, Angel. It's just Xander." She stood up, much to Angel's displeasure as his head had been in her lap. "Thanks for driving us back. We're both a bit worse for wear."
"That gouge on your arm doesn't look great, Buff."
"It will be fine. I'll have Willow patch me up once we get back."
Angel knew he was being stared at. "Hey Angel, what's with the loincloth?" He thought about scratching this one but he sensed that she wouldn't like it.
"Not a loincloth. Or a diaper. Or whatever else your brain is thinking. It's my jacket."
"And it's tired around his manly bits because?"
"It's complicated." Xander raised his eyebrows. "Angel drank magic beer and now he's a cat." The words were said in a rush.
To his credit, Xander didn't laugh. Instead he thought about it for a minute and finally opined, "you'd think people in this town would know never to drink anything on tap." He moved forward, chucking Angel under his chin. "What a cute kitty." Angel hissed. "Not the friendliest cat. Which tracks."
"He likes his own space. That's all. Come on, Angel." She pushed him a little. "Time to get into Xander's car so we can get home."
"He's not going to get fur everywhere, is he? No fleas?"
"Funny. Very funny."
—-
"Buffy, are you okay? That arm looks bad."
"I'll be fine in a day. That Polgara stabbed me in the same spot as the other day. Obviously on purpose. I can't believe he got away from me again."
"Wasn't your fault." Willow was sitting next to Buffy, gently cleaning her arm with a soapy washcloth. Sitting back on her heels, Willow surveyed the damage. "It looks worse than it is. I'm going to bandage it up."
"Can you get me another washcloth so I can check Angel? I don't know about bandages, but I at least want to clean up any cuts. You should have seen him, Will. He jumped onto that demon's back and hung on even though it banged him against a tree a few times." Buffy had to hope nothing too serious was wrong. Angel's back was a mass of black and blue bruises, cuts, scrapes and a few deeper wounds. Once she was done, she and Willow headed upstairs to bed. Angel padded softly behind Buffy, jumping up onto their bed and curling into a ball at the end of it. "Goodnight, Angel," she said, planting a kiss on the top of his head. Angel replied with a sleepy purr.
—-
Buffy opened her eyes and then bolted upright. Angel was sitting up at the edge of the bed, his back toward her. He had managed to remove her coat from around his midriff at some point. "Angel," she asked hopefully.
"Buffy," he answered back.
"You're all right?"
"Aside from something apparently pummeling me last night?"
"You don't remember anything?"
"I was at the bar," Angel answered slowly. "I remember suddenly not feeling well and calling you, but after that, nothing."
"Maybe for the best," Buffy said. "The beer was jinxed. You thought you were a cat."
Angel smiled a little. "A cat? Did you pet me?"
"Of course. You were a very large, very adorable cat." Angel grinned at her a bit too intensely and Buffy's expression completely changed. "Eww. Not like that. You were a cat. Or cat like. Whatever." Angel couldn't help laughing a little at seeing her so flustered.
Buffy quickly threw on shorts and a top. "Willow slept over and I can hear her downstairs, so I'm going to head down."
"I'll be there in a bit," Angel told her.
As soon as Buffy left, Angel's smile faded. He hated lying to Buffy, but he hadn't seen a way around it. He remembered every second of what had happened. And while some of it had been very nice (Buffy scratching his head and petting him), a lot of it had brought up things he tried to keep buried.
They all saw him as a regular human now. Even Harris wasn't enough of a hypocrite to claim that Angel was in any way responsible for the past sins of the vampire when he himself was dating an ex-vengeance demon. But he had been a monster almost nine times longer than he'd been human and even though he didn't have a desire to drink blood or torture or murder, he remembered all of it. And it had warped him.
When he had bitten into that bird last night, the ecstasy of it came rushing back. Angel loved food. He loved the different textures, he loved the different tastes, salty, sweet, spicy, bitter. But that slide of hot blood down his throat, feeling the life ebb away - nothing would ever compare to that. His hand slowly moved down his belly. And then torturing that mouse. Hearing its frightened squeals. Raking his claws over it to cause it pain. As a cat, he had been driven by instinct. But right now? There was pleasure in the memories as he began to stroke himself. Angel stood up abruptly. "I'm going to take a shower. Be down in a few." He was grateful Willow was here so Buffy couldn't offer to join him. He stepped into the tub, his breathing already getting harsher, disgusted and aroused in equal measure. He would give into the darkness and then push it back deep inside.
—-
"So how many cemeteries did we hit?" Buffy slid her coat off and unceremoniously let it hit the floor.
Right behind her, Angel scooped her coat up and hung it in the coat closet, which caused his voice to be a bit muffled. "Five. Plus the clearing in back of Sunnydale Rest and also those caves near the beach." He carefully hung up his own coat.
"All that and the night was still a bust."
"Not a total waste. Five vampires and a Vinark."
"That weird bird thing. But no Polgara. It's out there somewhere doing who knows what."
Angel made a noise of agreement, but part of him was glad they hadn't come across it. He no longer had any type of special healing and after being tossed around last night, his back was killing him. He hadn't told Buffy, of course. He managed to keep up with her, but now he just wanted to crawl into bed and pass out.
Buffy had walked up the first couple of steps when she stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "I still have a lot of pent up energy," her eyes bright.
Angel's eyes slid away from her. He didn't want to be the 'not tonight dear, I have a headache' person, but he was so not in the mood.
Halfway up the staircase, Buffy turned and slowly unbuttoned her top and tossed it down the steps, where it lay in a crumpled heap. Then she deftly unhooked her bra and let it slide off her arms.
Angel's mouth went dry. Perfectly shaped, perfectly sized, rosebud pink areolas, nipples two shades darker… Angel yanked off his sweater and let it fall. He'd just take a Tylenol or ten later.
—-
"Dinner in five," yelled Angel from the kitchen the next day.
The table having already been set, Buffy decided to turn the TV on while she was waiting. Flipping through the stations, she stopped as the announcer continued, "...still reeling from the brutal murder of nine year old Lucus Meadows. According to the coroner, he was killed with a large skewer and his body was then mutilated." Buffy turned off the TV before she could hear any more. Somehow Angel was already next to her on the couch. She buried her face in his chest as he held her. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were wet but her mouth was set in a grim line. "The Polgara." Angel nodded in agreement. "We need to go talk to Giles."
"Let me put away the food and then we'll get going."
When they entered Giles' house, Xander, Anya and Willow were already there, everyone looking a little shell shocked. Obviously they had all seen the news.
"I'm going to be patrolling all the hot spots tonight until I find it." Buffy's tone was calm yet fierce. "That means the college campus, all the cemeteries, the woods, any other area where demons sometimes lurk."
"That's a lot of area to cover, Buff. Need some help?" Xander asked.
"Thanks for the offer, but no. This demon is dangerous and I don't want you to get hurt."
Xander released a noisy breath. "Thank goodness. Instead I will hole up in my subterranean shelter until the coast is clear."
Giles turned toward Angel. "Perhaps you should…"
"Buffy, maybe we should go home and eat dinner before we go out. It looks like it's going to be a long night," said Angel, deliberately interrupting Giles. He knew Giles was going to point out that maybe he should also stay home but there was no way he was going to let Buffy patrol by herself. She had already gotten hurt twice fighting this demon.
"That's a good idea," she agreed.
"I could stay here and help research, Maybe there's somewhere that demons like to hang out."
"Excellent notion, Willow. There are a few texts we can go through."
They said their goodbyes as Xander and Anya headed back to his place and Buffy and Angel to theirs. "You ok?" Angel asked.
"I'm not going to let it slip away again."
"I know. We'll both be ready for it."
—-
It was close to three am when they finally headed home. "We checked everywhere. I just don't understand where it could be." Buffy walked with quick determined steps, her stake gripped so tightly that her knuckles were white, frustration bleeding off of her.
Angel was half a step behind, his long legs allowing him to easily keep pace. His brow was slung low as he tuned Buffy out and tried instead to make sense of their busted mission. "Did you stumble on the Polgara the other two times?" he finally asked.
"The first time it got the drop on me. That's how my arm got bisected." Her voice was grim. "Second time, it wasn't exactly hiding. I think it was pissed that I was still alive."
"Then why," Angel started to say but Buffy was already ahead of him. "The Initiative," she said with finality. "They would have seen the same broadcast. For all I know, they get news alerts early. They killed it, which is why we can't find it."
"Agreed, but we need to be sure."
"I'll talk to Riley before class tomorrow."
Angel frowned. "Do you think he would tell you?" he said as he unlocked the front door.
"He owes me," Buffy said simply as she stepped into the house.
—-
"I'm thinking white lettering on a black background using a sans serif font. Simple, but eye- catching," Angel said, passing a mock up over to Eddie.
"I like it," Eddie replied. "Let me send it over to the client for their take."
Both men looked up at the same moment as they realized someone was standing next to them. "Melody? What's up?" Eddie asked their receptionist and office manager.
"Liam," she said, "your girlfriend is out front."
Eddie got a somewhat predatory look. "So that's the girl that has you twisted in knots? I'd love to meet her."
"Not happening," Angel said, already heading out the door. His brain was churning through scenarios as fast as his brain could devise them. She was supposed to be in psych class. If Finn had done anything….
He hurried over to her. She seemed troubled but not hurt and he relaxed slightly. "I'll be back in a minute," he told Melody as he hustled Buffy outside.
"Is something wrong? Is Finn bothering you?"
"Class was canceled. Something about Professor Walsh being indisposed." Buffy started walking away from the office front door, into the parking lot, little marching steps, her posture ramrod straight.
"Buffy?"
"Something's going on. I don't know what."
Angel relaxed a bit. Buffy hated having a bad feeling and not knowing the cause.
"Riley wasn't in class either. Which set off alarm bells. So I went to check his office and he wasn't there. And he wasn't in his dorm room."
He was about to ask her how she knew where his dorm was and then he remembered they almost dated. Nosing around that was looking for trouble. "It might not mean anything," he pointed out. "Maybe Riley knew Walsh was going to be out so he didn't bother showing up. She's probably just sick."
"Maybe." She didn't sound convinced.
"If Walsh isn't back by the time you have psych again, we'll investigate."
She nodded with a frustrated huff and started to walk off.
—-
Buffy slid into her seat a few minutes before class started, more focused on her conversation with Angel than the upcoming discussion on literature. His theory made perfect sense. Professor Walsh had a twenty-four bug and since Riley worked with her in several capacities, he was aware prior to class starting. But something about it didn't sit right with her.
Her English teacher, Professor Morgan, was saying something about how 'The Golden Bowl' could be looked at as a statement on the politics of marriage. She barely refrained from yawning. She was going to bribe Angel into writing her paper for her. She was pretty sure her college education would not suffer that much if she ignored this book.
Once class was over, she headed back home, done with college for the day. She couldn't get this morning's cancellation out of her mind. She knew Willow agreed with Angel as she hadn't seen anything sinister in their teacher being out. It did make more sense if the animal that looked sort of horse-like was actually a horse instead of a two-headed zebra. She decided she'd track Riley down tomorrow and ask him.
A pounding at the front door interrupted her leftover pasta salad lunch. Picking her head up and then looking back down, she sighed sadly. She packed up the rest of the meal and put it back into the fridge, while the volley against the door increased to the point that Buffy thought that someone had a vendetta against it.
Buffy unlocked the door, swung it open and then took a half step backwards. "Riley?"
If she had been asked to describe Riley Finn, she would have said a blonde Clark Kent without the cool flying. Riley was all-American, heartland country, yes ma'am, no ma'am, apple pie, amber waves of grain.
Riley's shirt was mis-buttoned and dirty, he was unshaven and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. His eyes kept moving as he tried and failed to focus, his face was red and there was a sheen of sweat evident. He looked like he was on day two of a three day bender.
"Riley?," she tried again.
"You killed her," he growled, lunging and failing to grab Buffy.
"What?"
"You hated her and you murdered her. Don't pretend otherwise." Riley stepped over the threshold, swaying a bit.
"Professor Walsh?" A stone settled in her gut. "I wasn't planning on a Christmas card, but I didn't kill her. I've never killed anybody." Best not to mention that she had tried, it just hadn't taken.
"Liar."
"Riley, I am not the plot twist." It was obvious he wasn't listening at all. "You need to leave." She pushed him out the door and locked it. He immediately began banging against it and screaming how the might of the US army would be coming for her. Riley's unhinged behavior was going to make it impossible to get any work done. Sorry. Didn't get my assignment done because I was accused of murder. That probably would not get her off the hook.
Finally, the screaming stopped. She managed to read her next astronomy chapter, changed, locked up (she had a vision of Riley and friends breaking in and trashing the place) and began walking. She had timed it perfectly because in less than five minutes, Angel was exiting his office building.
"Are you planning on robbing a bank?" he said, amused. She was wearing a black long sleeve shirt, black cargo pants and her hair was mostly hidden by a black knit hat.
"Not exactly. Professor Walsh is dead."
Angel's brow creased. "Good." Buffy watched as he retreated inside himself. "What kind of horrible person says good when someone else dies?" his expression darkened.
"Angel." Buffy's tone was sharp. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
"What? No." The thought of anyone calling Buffy stupid, even if it was Buffy, made him indignant.
"Well, I must be since I'm in love with a horrible person."
Angel's mouth opened, closed, opened, then closed again making him look like a fish that had been tossed on land. "I know there's a flaw in your logic but I can't figure out what it is."
Buffy simply grinned at him.
"I bet you're sorry she's dead." Angel felt the need to point out that one of them was a much better person than the other one.
.
"I don't know," she admitted. "It's not my main concern. Sounds like she was murdered."
Angel looked again at her outfit as the pieces fell into place. "You want to go back to the Initiative." Buffy nodded. "Just a quick recon, Buffy. That place isn't safe to hang around."
He parked as close as possible to the hidden entrance and they crept out, shadows moving among the graves. They silently entered the fake crypt and opened the door that was inset into the ground. Buffy went first, Angel right behind as they descended the stairs into the military complex. He brushed the sleeve of her jacket, physical reassurance pushing aside the memories of him finding her locked in a cell, bleeding and bruised.
They walked down the corridor, keeping against the wall until they came to where it split into three. "I went to the right to find you," Angel whispered into Buffy's ear.
"We need to go down the center hallway," she responded.
They walked another ten feet and Angel stopped dead. "Holy crap." The hallway had turned into a football sized room with a walkway running all three sides. Monitors and large banks of computers were in evidence. Further in could be seen several beds. At least two had demons strapped to them. Angel slowly turned in a complete circle as he took in all in. "That's some A compensating going on here." They took a few steps in when from one side of the room a voice commanded them to halt.
Riley Finn stepped out into the room, walkie talkie in hand. "Backup needed now." He looked even worse than earlier, stumbling a little as he came closer. "I am arresting you for the murder of Professor Maggie Walsh."
"Riley, I already told you that I had nothing to do with that. Angel and I are here to help find out what actually happened." She took a step back. The fluorescent lighting made Riley look ghoulish.
"Who would have killed the professor if it wasn't you?"
"Me," said a voice from the catwalk. The creature moved where it could be more easily seen. A small part of its face was human, and it basically looked like a person, but it was composed of a random mixture of demon parts and metal.
"What are you?" Buffy's voice wavered in shock.
"I went out earlier to find out the answer. I came upon a creature. He told me that he was a boy and I was a monster. I opened him up to try to understand but it did not tell me what I wished to know. My name is Adam. Professor Walsh was my mother."
"She was not your mother." Riley swayed on his feet, his face twisted in horror. "Professor Wash was a brilliant scientist."
"You are Riley Finn," continued Adam dispassionately. "She was your mother too."
"I have a mother and it is not Professor Walsh," he gritted out.
"Our mother molded us. Taught us what was important. Made us both strong. She gave you drugs so that we could be more alike."
"Stop it," Riley yelled. "That's not true."
Adam stepped off the platform, easily dropping down eight feet. Riley rushed him and slammed into him. Adam didn't seem affected. "I do not wish to hurt you brother."
"I am not your brother." Riley pulled his gun out, his hand shaking badly. Before he had time to cock it, Adam grabbed his hand forcing him to drop the weapon. Riley tried to punch him with his other hand, but he was easily grabbed and tossed across a table, as he slid to the floor.
Buffy and Angel both joined the fray. Buffy kicked Adam in the back, while Angel punched him from the front. Buffy started to kick again, but Adam easily caught her foot and tossed her into one of the computer monitors causing a shower of sparks. She immediately jumped back up as Angel was forced down onto the floor and kicked in the side. He rolled away as Riley charged Adam again. Buffy was initiating a snap kick when Riley rushed Adam from the front. Adam turned to Riley as a spear erupted from his forearm. Adam moved his arm back as he shifted to spear Riley in the gut. Instead Angel pushed Riley out of the way as the spear went into Angel's side. Adam retracted the spear, as Angel looked at Adam wide eyed for a moment, before he slumped to the floor. Adam then grabbed Riley by the shoulders and hurled him into the wall.
Soldiers rushed into the room as Adam leapt back onto the catwalk and disappeared into the ductwork in the ceiling.
Several men rushed over to Riley. "He's hurt," one shouted. "Get him to the hospital."
Buffy grabbed his sleeve. "Angel," She said pointing. "He's bleeding badly."
The man looked at her. "He's a civilian. He shouldn't be here." He started to turn away when Buffy grabbed him. "He saved Riley's life. And if you don't save him, I will burn this place to the ground."
He saw the hard truth in her eyes. "Get Lopez," he said to one of the others. "Tell him, man down, bleeding out."
Buffy knelt by Angel's head. "Don't die. Don't die."
"Move out of the way, please." Lopez immediately began applying a large bandage and pressure to where Angel had been stabbed. "Do you know if he's up to date with his tetanus shot?"
"No, I mean he's not."
"He's going into shock," he barked to someone else. "We need to move him, now."
Buffy watched as they loaded him onto a stretcher and disappeared. "Where are they taking him," she asked the soldier she had initially yelled at. "Buffy, by the way."
"I know," he said, scowling. "Forrest," he finally added.
"When can I see him?"
Looking at her, his expression softened a little. "I'll come back as soon as I know something."
"That thing that escaped. Adam? Did you know about it?"
"We'll take care of it."
Buffy doubted it, but didn't voice her thoughts.
By the time Forrest returned, Buffy had imagined a dozen scenarios, each worse than the one before. "He's lost a lot of blood," and the world went dark, "but he's going to be fine," and the world started spinning once again. "He should be able to go home by tomorrow night but he'll still need to rest."
—-
"How are you feeling?" Angel was still too pale in her opinion, but at least he was out of the hospital.
"Like I was shish-ka-bobbed. Just pour on the BBQ sauce," he weakly joked.
"You saved Riley's life and you don't even like him."
"Maybe I forgot it was him." Angel felt a bit embarrassed by his actions. He wasn't completely sure what had possessed him.
"You didn't forget. You're a hero, that's all."
He closed his eyes. Over the last few weeks he had threatened Riley with torture, had, in fact, tortured a mouse and enjoyed it, and had felt no sympathy at all regarding Walsh's death. He opened his eyes and turned toward Buffy. Looking in her eyes, he saw what she saw. His fears and his shame and his guilt slipped away for the time being. "Do heroes get kisses?"
Buffy knelt on the bed, bending over him. The kiss was soft and sweet and he could smell that light floral scent she liked to use. He was wrapped up in a cocoon of Buffy love. She stretched out next to him and carefully wrapped her arms around him, avoiding the bandage on his side. There was a person-demon-computer patchwork quilt running around but at this moment? Right now, he was happy. Maybe even perfectly happy.