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Angel sat listlessly in his armchair, watching Dru flutter around him in graceful yet childish circles as she danced with her ever-present faeries. To the uninitiated he looked pensive, perhaps even to be an indulgent lover of his odd girlfriend’s behaviour. To those who knew him, however, it was unmistakable that Angel was brooding.

The longer he watched, the deeper his brow furrowed. And his respect for Spike grew.

How the hell did the bleached moron put up with this kind of thing day in and day out?

He hadn’t moved for the past hour, completely baffled and unable to reach any kind of conclusive thought about what the hell he was doing.

For the first time since it happened, Angel wondered why he had so easily agreed to take over from Spike in the care of Drusilla. It was without doubt the very first thing Angel had ever done that Spike had requested, having preferred in the past to completely ignore or humiliate the baby of the family.

Yet, his first meeting with him in decades and Angel had jumped to Spike’s bidding, shackling himself down with a totally dependent and weakened vampiress when he was meant to be helping Buffy. Not to mention he was in love with her. Madly, soulfully in love with her. And instead of telling Spike to pull his head out of his ass, Angel meekly went along with the request and was now a hundred percent encumbered with raving, lunatic Drusilla.

He immediately hung his head in guilt.

And that got to the crux of the matter.

Guilt.

That little niggle in the back of his mind that he was responsible for Dru’s madness, for her even being a vampire. And God, if he’d never made her then there would have been no William. For that alone Angel thought he should atone. What an unseemly set of events that had been.

So, yeah. Spike got him when he was full of remorse. Which he probably would not have gotten around to if the youngest pair of the family quartet hadn’t rolled into town.

Angel watched as the strength seemed to suddenly evaporate from the brutal beauty and she collapsed to the floor, giggling girlishly as she tucked her doll under her arm. She chattered on, completely oblivious for the time being that she had such a captive audience. At least, he thought she’d been oblivious until he caught the almost calculated smile she directed at him before once again ducking back to her doll.

“Miss Edith, Daddy is all aflutter. He doesn’t know how to be a daddy anymore. We’ll have to be his special girls and remind him how it’s done.” Her voice was captivating like that of a tiny girl, skittish and excited. It completely mesmerised him and drew him to remember past evil expectations.

Infused with a hidden burst of strength, Dru was back on her feet and swaying to a silent beat, her hips moving from side to side in a sensual, hypnotic figure eight.

“Come to me, Daddy,” she whispered in a harsh voice and he was powerless to do anything but jump to his feet and take her in his arms. They danced, rocking with pelvises locked together, Dru moving from side to side, and up and down. Only when she let her eyes glance to the side did he fall free from her spell, pushing her gently but firmly away.

“I can’t do that with you, Dru. I’m in love with Buffy now.” Angel lowered his head, a little ashamed that it had taken until his dancing partner had looked away before he remembered about Buffy. But Buffy was his life now; she was the source of his redemption. And that brought back the guilt. Helping Dru could hopefully help salve some of it—and count towards his record of redemptive acts. Angel was sure it all counted.

“The little sunburst will save all the boys…but not for long. My Spike thinks he has a plan but it will all come to nothing. He can’t save her.” She slinked over to a suddenly worried Angel. Her mouth was within two inches of his as she smiled evilly and with purpose. “I won’t let him.”

Angel caught her as she seemed to wilt and fall before him.

“I’m feeling a little weak, Daddy. Please make me all better. Spike knows how. You must ask him for help.”

“What is Spike’s plan, Dru?” Angel asked her urgently, rather stunned that the raven-haired beauty had managed to actually relay something intelligible.

“Nuh ah, can’t tell all our secrets,” she answered him, her lids falling heavy as he carried her over to his only bed. “The glass slipper doesn’t fit the golden princess,” she trailed off as her eyelids drooped and she passed into slumber.

Angel stood back, more than a little miffed at the crazy double talk that Dru indulged in and felt a twinge of contrition for blaming her for something he’d caused. Angel felt momentarily disorientated, finding nothing on his quick perusal of the room that could seize his attention away from the sleeping vampire on his bed. Which in itself was a problem, because it left him with nowhere to sleep.

Rubbing his jaw and deciding it was a dilemma best pondered over in the cool breeze of night, he retrieved a set of chains he’d kept well hidden from view under his bed. He minimised the clanking of the metal as much as he possibly could, and latched them around Drusilla’s wrists. The manacles were locked and he twisted the chain into the prepared bolts in the wall at the head of the bed, hidden by his pillows.
When it was done he stepped back, looking at the now restrained childe in his bed and heaved a great sigh of penitence. For the moment there was little he could do, he had to get out for some air and think this situation through.

And he had to see Buffy.

With Dru chained up, weak and asleep, Sunnydale had every reason to breathe easy. With a final look at his latest charge, he grabbed his coat, ran his hands over his head to check that his hair seemed still cemented in his preferred style, and left his apartment.

His feet were determined in their path and he paced a quick journey to Buffy’s house, mindful of the closing in of dawn. It seemed like years since he had last really seen her, barring the awkward confrontation the few hours before. He’d seen how hurt she had been when he had defended Dru, but he was sure that all she needed was an explanation. It can’t have been easy for her to see him with another woman, see him now in a caring role toward his own childe.

No, explanation would be all it took. Buffy loved and trusted him, and he could list all day the ways that he was a lucky vampire, Buffy always at the beginning of it.

Angel ambled on, feeling secure in his mission and purpose, knowing that the heart of Buffy was both a premature reward and his redemptive guide. But he remained on edge, casting the blame for his uncertain position on his white-haired childe and his unpredictable surrender of duty.

Angel couldn’t help but wonder again why he was so quick to take up Spike’s slack. Though Dru had been twittering about creating her perfect knight way back in the day, Angelus and Darla had allowed her free reign to investigate and claim the life of one William the Bloody to free up a little more of their playtime. To them, Spike had meant little more than a family nurse. That he had adapted to that role as well as wreaking havoc in English society, was still a burr that rubbed Angel raw.

His grandchilde was an irritant, but he’d gloried many times over the past century. Earned his stripes in the vampiric community, so to speak. He held power, and despite now being the head of the clanwith the passing of both Darla and the Master himself Angel indulged in a small amount of healthy fear toward Spike and his achievements. Admittedly, they were few, with Spike’s handicap being the care of his often less-than-lucid dark princess. But what accolades he had received were renowned through demon communities. He’d taken out two Slayers, numerous fights against stronger demons, and escaped harsh and dangerous situations with human mobs.

Like the one that had rendered Drusilla too weak to care for herself.

But it didn’t explain his sudden break off from all that had tethered him to his demon existence. Drusilla was his link, his reason for being, and this rebuttal of Spike’s duties over a century in establishment should have been enough to cause Angel to seek vengeance. Seek a renewal of the vow of care.

But just one night in Dru’s company and he was left to wonder how Spike had remained sane for all of these years. He could understand the younger vamps need to seek other links to the world. Just one night and already he was off searching for the recuperative power of being in Buffy’s arms.

His soul made him magnanimous.

He had no knowledge of the situation between the slayer and vampire, but they seemed to be patrolling together and that left Angel to wonder what had been so momentous in the younger vampire’s life that he was now rendered a white hat.

It seemed that within the erratic blink of an eye everything as he knew it was altered. His murderous offspring had come to him, taking over and changing his current existence quite spectacularly. Spike was apparently on his own redemptive path, forging ahead without a soul to guide his way. That in itself forced Angel to be on his guard. To be ever prevalent with the surveillance of whatever Spike’s grand plan was. Whatever it consisted of, Buffy was obviously the focus. This white hat gig had to be a front for something bigger.

And that was what worried him most. Buffy was in the centre of Spike’s game and was completely unsuspecting from what he had witnessed tonight. The Slayer, whose job it was to be wary and suspicious, trusted him.

The thought made Angel pause in his stride and shake his head in almost admiration. If it had been anyone but his Buffy, he would have commended Spike on such a convincing act. Instead, the blonde vamp’s proximity to his girl made Angel’s fangs descend.

When he became aware of the direction his frustrated concern had taken, Angel covered his face and waited until the ridges were finally repressed. He felt so ashamed. Like when he had lost control while kissing Buffy for the first time. He acted like a weak fledgling, easily losing control over his demon impulses. And it wasn’t right. He had a soul, yet he was less in control of himself now than when he was first sired.

It made him angry. Here he was, the reigning…well, not master really…but he had superiority over Spike, yet he was out of the loop. He was the elder of their family, and yet the childe was telling him what to do, installing responsibility under his roof like he had been raised to offer instruction. They had changed roles. And that pissed Angel off.

Buffy’s window appeared like an escape from insanity, and he jumped the tree, watching her slumber peacefully for a moment before he entered into her room. He stood uncertain, wanting desperately to wake her up and talk about all the things that must be so confusing to her, but feeling a little hesitant about getting it all out in the open.

But it was urgent that he warned her about Spike, that he make sure she wasn’t taken in by whatever face the other vampire was wearing through this little scheme. He still couldn’t work out what was going on. It was not like Spike to be this patient about setting up his plan and executing it. The end always was a mile from expectation. So rather than reassure Angel, the patience displayed by Spike set his fangs on edge. It was so out of the expected for Spike that it threw Angel for several long and windy loops.

“I’m not asleep, you know.”

Angel’s head jerked up at the slightly husky voice, his eyes having fallen to the floor as he thought about hidden motivations and agendas.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” he asked her hopefully, his voice syrupy with dripping sensuality.

Buffy opened startled eyes. She’d thought…

“Oh, a…hi, Angel. Nope, no waking. No sleep. I’m all awake girl. What can I do for you?”

At Angel’s raised brow and flirty smirk, Buffy felt her womb shrink. Here was her supposed boyfriend and she was feeling like she was cheating. On Spike. The unsouled version of her boyfriend. Except cuter…and with a nicer…hmmm…lot’s of nicer…

“Angel?”

He hadn’t moved, watching her with a confusion born from her miasma of scents. She wavered between happiness, fear, and he was sure there was just a touch of irritation in her voice just now. But one scent was missing, telling in its lack. He couldn’t smell her desire to see him and—without the flavour of sex—he had associated it long with her pleasure to just have him in her sight. It was comfort and belonging.

It kept him grounded and hopeful that one day he may be redeemed. That he may one day regain life.

And so he clung to Buffy.

No way was he going to let Spike take away the best thing that ever happened to him.

“Angel?”

Yep, definitely with irritation that time, but it was enough to knock him out of his funk and he turned to bestow upon her a tentative smile.

“I wanted to explain to you about Dru.” He waded slowly into the murky waters of their relationship and stopped dead at her flippant rejoinder.

“Oh, s’okay,” she told him tiredly as she burrowed back down into her cavern of warmth. “Spike explained to me that you were looking out for her now.”

“Spike told you?” Angel gave her his kicked puppy look, completely unintentional of artifice.

Which just made the manipulation worse.

Thinking of Angel like that made her feel a tinge of fear; things had changed so rapidly. She had been so in love with Angel mere days ago, and the only reason she could think of to explain her attraction to Spike now was the lack of smoochies with Angel. She had to take a chance, prove to herself that this thing with Angel was not as strong as she’d thought, or prove that it was and so get it back on the right track.

Making a decision, Buffy flung back her bedcovers and got to her feet, making a slow, almost seductively predatory walk to Angel before linking her arms behind his neck.

“Yep. No big. You’re her sire and she needs you right now.” Buffy began nibbling on his neck.

Angel wiggled, not wanting to let things get too hot but finding it unbearable to keep having to stop her. He pushed her away gently.

“What reason did Spike give you for wanting me to take over with Dru? Because he didn’t give me any.”

“He said he needed time to get himself together. That he wanted his own life and doesn’t love her anymore.” Buffy watched Angel’s usually inexpressive face and waited for the slight muscle around his eye to move.

Angel gasped in an unmanly fashion.

And Buffy suppressed her shock as all the muscles moved.

“Now I know for sure he’s planning something. Spike does not fall out of love with Dru.”

And that was so not what she had been wanting to hear.

“I think we should stop talking about Spike. Angel, why don’t you stay for awhile?” Buffy grinned and allowed her hand to settle against the silk button-up shirt he wore, letting her fingers roll over the slinky fabric. Just as her palm heated the skin at his waist he grabbed her hand, his hold stilling her movement before pulling her away.

“I think we should talk, Buffy.”

“Fine,” she said, stepping back exasperated. Then a wicked idea caught hold of her and she decided to push her lack of decision in his face. Standing right in front of him and giving no warning, she whipped her pyjama top over her head and walked over to find a replacement. Her bare back an invitation she only half hoped he would accept.

“We could go for a walk. Don’t want to wake up mom.”

Quickly stripping fully and getting dressed again, Buffy spun round and almost giggled at Angel’s sucker-punched expression.

Gotcha, she thought as she led the way out of her bedroom window. If he could resist her now, she was a monkey’s uncle. Damn Xander and his weirdo sayings!

They walked side by side for a while before Angel attempted to speak, and when he finally did his voice lifted in an embarrassing squeak.

“Ah, so…you’re not mad then?” He couldn’t remember what it was he wanted to talk to her about.

“Why would I be mad, silly? It’s just like if you were looking after your sick mom, right?”

Angel shook his head, grasping at the sick mother reference until a picture of raven-haired frailty crossed his mind. Numerous sensations were hitting him at once, a sick childe he now was responsible for pounding him relentlessly with guilt. Concern for whether Spike planned anything murderous or not, and BuffyGod, naked Buffy. He was still reeling from that sight, and he’d mostly had his eyes closed once he saw what she was doing.

But still, the gentle yet soft slope of her breast was tantalising beyond his dreams and it was all he could do to keep himself restrained. Buffy was not the kind of girl you took in a moment of animal passion. Not for her first time. That would take patience and care, and more love than he knew what to do with.

Buffy was his goddess, his golden light to a better place and he intended to cherish her till she gave up breath.

He was lost in his thoughts until Buffy stopped in front of him, taking a seat on the slightly damp grass, and signalling that they had reached the place she wanted to go. He looked around him, not really wanting to follow her example and sit. So, he wandered around her for a bit and kept an eye out for predators. When he turned around again she had stood back up and was confronting him, hands firmly on hips.

The image made Angel’s eyes glaze over.

“So, when do we get to the ‘making out’ part of this little tryst?” Buffy asked as she slinked up against him, her hesitant but hopeful grin telling stories.

Angel’s eyes bugged.

“Buffy, I thought we should discuss what happened earlier tonight. With Spike and Dru?”

“I know what happened, Angel. I was trying to ignore it.”

Angel startled to hear the hard edge that had entered her voice and took a small step back.

“Buffy, I don’t think you underst…”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she huffed in his face, taking a step forward and bridging his intended gap. “I understand that you took to looking after the batty vampiress you sired, and I understand that you didn’t bother to tell me about it. I understand that you disappeared from helping me with patrol and I understand that you don’t trust whatever Spike is up to. Just for the record, I do. And Giles is letting him stay until he finds somewhere else.”

“Buffy, that is really not a good i…”

“I don’t believe he is the vampire you were warning us about, Angel. He must have changed. I don’t know why, but if he wants to do good and help me out, I sure as hell am not going to tell him to take a hike.”

“Well, he might have cha…”

“But that does not explain the thing that I don’t understand, namely why you have such a problem with the kissage lately?”

After his attempts to butt in with explanations and statements, this last had his lips tightly clamped.

“Er, Buffy, I haven’t been…I mean, I don’t …no, it isn’t that I…”

“I thought you had feelings for me, Angel.”

“I do,” exploded from his mouth and he sighed in relief at her gentle smile. “I love you, Buffy.”

Her smile froze as her eyes widened in frantic alarm.

“Love? You love me? But, that…I don’t want you to,” she spluttered in a moment of panic, flinching at his kicked puppy look. It didn’t alter or become more devastated despite her impulsive outburst and the hurtful denial.

But it was the truth, and something heavy shifted inside and Buffy relaxed in her decision.

“But, why? What’s happened? Is it because Dru is living with me now?”

“She’s living with you? No,” Buffy held her hand up, preventing explanations. “Of course she’s living with you. No…nothing happened exactly,” she stumbled, her heartbeat racing as she couldn’t help but recall the feel of Spike against her, taste him on her tongue. She could feel herself flush and quickly turned heel and strode away, hoping to cool the heat in her face.

Though shocked by her announcement, Angel decided to ignore it, thinking that maybe Buffy was just reacting to the lack of attention. Instead he caught her pace and pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m sorry I have been neglecting you,” he whispered into her hair, completely oblivious to the fact that her body had become as stiff as the bodies buried in the yard.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you…” he spun her in his arms and started kissing her, cool slobbery lips making her feel suddenly, well, nothing. Absolutely, completely nothing. Zilcho on the happy feelings. Buffy allowed her lips to remain, opening her eyes and seeing the intense look of concentration on Angel’s shuttered face as he attempted to woo her back to his side.

And she knew.

Soul or no, she didn’t feel the way about Angel that she thought she probably should have. Spike was a risk; she couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t trying to trick her and later drain away her life.

But whatever the reason, he made her blood fizzle and sing in her veins, made her want to do things that Cleo had been instructing her how to for years but was too grossed out to ever want to try. He made her want to lie and just watch, become lost in the depth of his emotion, the ocean of his eyes, the windows of his soul. She wanted to be naked and glorious with him, kiss him until she fell from the lack of air. She wanted to get to know him.

She wanted him.

Not Angel.

And the revelation was shocking. Though not wholly unexpected after her earlier activities.

She wanted Spike to be her first, not Angel. That ship had sailed.

But Angel hadn’t moved, his lips smooched over hers with a remarkable lack of talent that Buffy hadn’t picked up on until now. Having now the experience of Spike lips. Hmmm, lips of Spike…

Thoughts of the peroxided yumminess gave her lips an animation she hadn’t planned on and she dived into the kiss, making it heated and lusty and passionate. Her hands gripped Angel’s shoulders with a power she wasn’t used to using with loved ones, and she held him against her hard. Her mouth opened, and she allowed her tongue to probe, hopeful for a green light to go the next step.

But that was where Angel reached his limit. Not wanting to get out of control in a graveyard he pushed her away and was raggedly not gasping for breath, because he was a vampire and didn’t need it. So, the only sign of his close encounter with control loss was his distance.

Buffy saw brown hair and took another step back.

“Um, Angel? I really don’t think this will work. I think we need to break up.”

Buffy felt a little sad—of course she did. Angel was her first crush, the guy she thought would be The One. And now she was sure he wasn’t and all it took was a very confusing but liberating moment with a soulless demon that made her shiver just from his looking at her.

Caught up in her thoughts of more of those possibly liberating moments, Buffy almost missed the pout. Almost apparently wasn’t good enough, and she felt icky for having seen it.

“Angel, I really am sorry, but I just don’t think I should get too involved right now.” She tried for her innocent yet flirty look and breathed in relief when he seemed to buy it.

His hands were stuffed into his pockets, and he watched the grass with an intensity that made Buffy suspect that it was evil.

“Sure, Buffy. You’re probably right. It would be good to take a break, and this is a good time while I work out the best way to help Dru. Just,” and he surrendered his fixed attention on the grass to search out the matching colour of her eyes. “Be careful of Spike, okay. I don’t know what he is playing at, but he’s dangerous. You shouldn’t forget that. And I’m kind of disturbed that he has full access to Giles’s house. I just hope you all know what you’re doing. He doesn’t have a soul so he’s evil. Demons can’t change just like that.”

And before she could blink or offer alternative argument, he was gone.

And she was a free agent again.

The smile was spread wide and free over her face as she made it back home to settle in for a crazy night of hot dreams.

Buffy couldn’t wait for tomorrow and just quietly wished that all break-ups could be so easy.

A/N...thank you everyone for being so supportive of this story. Your enthusiasm makes me all giggly!





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