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Part 7

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~a few days later~

 

Buffy ran her hand across her forehead as she walked along the sidewalk a few blocks from her home.  She swiped her hand on her jeans, wiping off the sweat from her forehead.  Despite the fact that she was only casually walking down the street, she was sweating as if she were battling an eight-foot tall demon.  She shook her head, hoping to clear away some of the fogginess, but it only served to make her dizzy.  Pulling her jacket off, Buffy looked ahead and was glad to find that she was almost home.  All she wanted to do was climb into bed and go to sleep.

 

Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was almost two a.m.  She hadn’t meant to be out this late, but she’d been visiting with Tara and they’d lost track of time.  At least she had managed to convince Doyle and her friends that she would be fine by herself.  It had taken a bit of arguing, but in the end, they’d let her go.  She knew they just worried about her being out on her own because of all the dangers she tended to run in to, but they were a bit too over protective sometimes.  They would probably be surprised, and rather angry, if they knew how many times she’d used excuses to just get even a few minutes to herself.

 

Tonight she hadn’t used an excuse, though.  She really had gone to visit Tara.  Over the years her former boss had become a really good friend.  Tara also still babysat for Ashlynn when needed and she spent time at the club on her nights off.  Usually Tara came over to her apartment, but she’d had a late shipment of artifacts coming into the store tonight so Buffy had gone to visit her there and kept her company.

 

Buffy was nearing the club and her apartment when she heard a scream come from the alley across the street.  Groaning out loud, she grabbed the stake out of her waistband and dashed across the roadway towards where she could hear someone struggling.  The source of the noise was immediately evident.  A rather large, male vampire had a middle-aged woman pinned against a dumpster trying to hold her still long enough to bite her neck. 

 

The vampire had yet to notice Buffy’s presence so she was able to come up behind him without any trouble.  Grabbing his body, she pulled him off the woman and threw him a few feet away.  She glanced at the woman, and seeing she appeared unharmed, told the female to run and then turned her attention back to the vamp.  By now, he’d gotten back on his feet and was growling angrily at Buffy for interrupting his meal.

 

Taking a fighting posture, she glared at the demon, waiting for him to charge.  He didn’t make her wait long and she rolled to her left to avoid the attack.  She circled around and faced the vamp again trying to form a battle plan in her mind.  The vamp charged again, and this time Buffy raised her right leg intent on kicking him in the chest.  Her balance faltered though and the kick was only a glancing blow on his side.  The botched move made the vampire laugh and he swiped at her with his arm, sending Buffy flying into the brick wall along the alleyway.

 

The sound of the thud of her head against the wall reverberated throughout the alley.  Buffy’s head throbbed, spots appearing before her eyes as she slid down to the dirty ground.  She tried to push herself back up, but the dizziness overwhelmed her and she slumped back down.  Looking up, she could see the vampire stalking toward her, a feral grin plastered on his face.  Again, Buffy tried to stand up, but as she attempted to do so a dark body tackled the vampire, sending him sprawling to the ground.

 

Within seconds, the stranger had staked the vampire and was brushing the dust off his long coat.  She knew in an instant who it was.  If the coat hadn’t of given it away, the feeling now tingling down her spine would have.  She should have known he was following her, but she hadn’t felt him earlier.  He must have stayed far enough away to keep her from noticing him.

 

As she once again began to try and pick herself up off the ground a large, familiar hand gently grasped her arm and helped her to stand.  The contact caused shivers to go down her spine, and sent her mind back to days past.  For a moment, she could only stare at her arm where his hand was positioned.  She wanted to reach out and touch his skin, but reality took over and she twisted out of his grip, backing a few feet away.

 

“I could have handled it,” she found herself mumbling to him as she brushed the dirt off her pants.

 

“Usually people say thank you,” Angel frowned at her reaction.  “And it didn’t look like you were handling it.”

 

“I was fine,” she bit back in annoyance.  “And thank you.”

 

“Are you okay?” he gestured to the lump on her head from where it hit the brick wall.

 

Buffy raised her hand and winced when it came into contact with the wound.  “It’s just a bump.”

 

“Are you sure?”  Angel took a few steps toward her and moved to touch the injury.

 

Panic seized Buffy.  He was getting too close.  “I-I have to g-go,” she sputtered and quickly turned to walk away, or run if need be.

 

“You can’t keep running,” Angel’s voice echoed all around.

 

Buffy’s steps halted at the words.  With narrowed eyes, she turned to face him.  “What?  You mean like you did?”

 

“That’s not fair, Buffy,” Angel walked toward her, stopping a few feet away.

 

“Fair?  You walked away from me.  And what?  You just reappear out of nowhere and expect me to leap into your arms?  It doesn’t work that way,” Buffy replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

“That’s not what I expect,” he corrected her.  No, he certainly didn’t expect her to come running back to him.  In fact he hadn’t even wanted her to know he was there.  But it was too late for that now.  He honestly had no idea what was to come next.

 

“What do you want from me, then, Angel,” Buffy sighed loudly, trying to ignore the pain in her head.

 

“I...I don’t know,” he told her.  It was the truth after all.

 

“I have to go.  People are waiting for me.”  Buffy cringed as she realized that her friends could be out looking for her right now.  She’d called them right before she left Tara’s to let her know she was on her way home.

 

“Right.  Have to get back to your boytoy?” Angel snapped at her without really thinking about what he was saying.

 

Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she attempted to respond, but she said nothing.  He’d seen her with...she should have known he’d been following her longer than she’d realized.  Her anger, rational or not, flared at the fact that he was snooping around her life after he was the one to walk away.  What right did he have to spy on her?

 

“It’s what you wanted for me, isn’t it?”  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.  “Didn’t you say you wanted me to find someone who could take me out in the sun, who could have sex with me, and who could give me kids?”

 

She wasn’t finished with her tirade and stepped right in front of Angel.  “I clearly remember you telling me that.  So I did.  Went out and got what you told me to.  And now, seven years later, you’re back and acting like a jealous boyfriend.  Well, guess what, you’re not my boyfriend, and you certainly have no right to be jealous.”

 

Angel wanted to reply, but there wasn’t much he could say.  Everything she’d said was true.  He’d done all that and then some.  What, then, could he say?  Nothing.  And apparently Buffy agreed with him.

 

“Ya know what?  I can’t deal with this.”  Buffy swayed as she spoke, dizziness and nausea swirling throughout her head and stomach.  Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving Angel to watch her retreating back.

 

Buffy left the alley as quickly as possible, though her gait was slower than normal as she struggled not to fall.  Her entire body ached and her head felt as if it were under a thousand feet of heavy ocean water.  The urge to vomit tickled the back of her throat, but she fought to keep it contained.  She just needed to make it a few feet and she’d be home, and away from him.

 

“Buffy!” a voice called out somewhere in front of her.  “Oh my God!  What happened?”

 

Through her blurry vision, Buffy could see Lindsey running toward her.  Relief flooded through her at the sight of the familiar face.  “I-I...my head...”

 

“What happened?” Lindsey grabbed at her arm to keep her from falling over.  “We were so worried when you didn’t come home right after callin’.”

 

“I...there was a vamp...the wall...,” she reached a hand to her head hoping to dull the pain and leaned, or rather fell, against Lindsey’s sturdy body.

 

“Shh, Darling.  It’ll be all right,” he scoped her small body up into his arms and rushed toward the club where the others were nervously waiting.

 

Buffy allowed him to pick her up, knowing that if he didn’t she would be on the ground in seconds.  His embrace comforted her battered body and she laid her head down against his shoulder.  She was tempted to glance behind them.  He was watching.  She knew he was.  Instead, she clumsily wrapped her arms around Lindsey’s neck and ignored the pang of guilt that was thumping in her heart.

 

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Inside of his rented motel room, Angel had been pacing from one end of the room to the other for the last hour.  This trip wasn’t turning out at all as he had expected.  He’d gone from believing Buffy was dead, to having a small sliver of hope, to knowing that she was in fact alive and well.  Once he knew she was fine, he had planned on leaving, but even that had gotten screwed up when he’d been careless and she’d snuck up on him. 

 

After her less than pleased reaction to his presence he told himself that leaving would be the best thing.  She didn’t need him there, not when she had a happy life.  He’d only mess it up.  Then that half-demon had appeared.  His words still haunted Angel.  What had the man meant when he said he should stay and that there were things he didn’t understand and didn’t know?  The message had been worrisome.  Enough so that Angel decided to stick around if only to find out who the half-demon was and what he knew.  He told himself he’d leave Buffy alone, but that hadn’t work and he’d found himself following her once again.

 

The events from earlier that night were running in a loop through his head.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the confrontation with Buffy.  He couldn’t stop thinking about her period.  She looked as beautiful as ever, he thought to himself.  There was a maturity that hadn’t been there before, but that was only natural.  Her hair was longer and her body more defined and toned than it had been.  She still captured his heart, though.

 

The words she’d spoken to him tore a hole in his dead heart.  They were true.  He was well aware of that.  He had told her to move on with her life; to find someone to be with; to walk in the sunlight, have kids, and all that accompanied; and most of all to be happy.  Yes, he had told her all that, and he had meant it.  But there was that small part in him that wanted her to hold onto their love forever.  They were soulmates.  Weren’t they?  Or had he been wrong?

 

She had moved on.  She didn’t even seem to care that he was back.  Maybe he had underestimated the love between them.  That thought hurt almost more than he could bear.  Had he meant nothing to her?  Had it all been a lie?  Had she even cared about him at all?  Angel shook his head for even thinking that.  He knew she’d loved him.  Loved, in the past tense.  It was obvious to him that whatever they’d once had was over.  She had someone else now, a family.  He was just an ex-boyfriend.  He supposed it was better that way.  Nothing had changed.  He still couldn’t give her anything.

 

Something else was bothering Angel about his encounter with Buffy.  He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but something had been off.  He was sure of it.  Sure she’d taken that blow to the head and it had affected her, but that wasn’t what was worrying him.  In his mind he replayed each moment from earlier in the evening.  She’d been at that store and then left.  He remembered her wiping her forehead and looking a little unbalanced.  Then in the alley she’d tried to fight the vampire.  The kick!  Buffy had moved to kick at the vamp and almost completely missed.  That wasn’t like her at all.

 

Angel was positive now.  Something was definitely wrong with her.  She’d never been that off in fighting a vampire.  Perhaps she was sick.  If she was, then why was she out by herself at night?  That was pretty much asking for trouble.  She was in no condition to fight demons if she was ill.  Angel felt himself growing angry that she’d put herself in such a dangerous position.  She was always stubborn, but even she should no better than to do what she did.  That vamp could have killed her if he hadn’t of been there.

 

Pacing over to the window, Angel stared off in the direction of Buffy’s home.  He couldn’t help but worry about her.  She may not want him to care, but he would always worry about her.  He loved her, would always love her, and because of that he would always worry about her.  She was ignoring what her body was telling her and that concerned him.  He couldn’t let anything happen to her, not after just finding out that she was alive.  She may hate him for it, but Angel had no intention of leaving her alone until he was sure she was better.

 

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~the next night~

 

Buffy slowly moved around the various tables and counters collecting trash after a busy night at the club.  Why people couldn’t throw their own cups away was beyond her.  Of course, they had hired people who were supposed to do this work, but she needed to be doing something.  Ever since what happened the night before, they’d been pestering her non-stop.  She wasn’t some invalid, but they were treating her like one.  It was just a bump on the head.  Well, to them it was.  They didn’t know there was more.

 

The bump on her head was almost gone, but she still felt awful.  She hardly slept at all the night before and then had spent a half hour in the bathroom this morning throwing up everything in her stomach.  The sight of food made her want to run back to the toilet and she hadn’t eaten a thing all day.  And now, as she cleaned up trash, she had to force her hands to stop trembling so no one would notice.  She knew that if her friends realized she was sick they would make her go to the doctor and that was not something she wanted to do.  It was just the flu.  She’d be fine in few days.

 

“You’re supposed to be upstairs resting,” she heard Lindsey come up behind her and speak.

 

“I’m fine, Linds, really,” Buffy lied without turning to face him.

 

“No, you’re not,” he took the bag of trash from her hands.  “Now go back upstairs and get into bed.

 

“I’m not an invalid!” Buffy snapped at him.

 

“I didn’t say you were, Darling,” Lindsey tried to console her, a little thrown by Buffy’s attitude.

 

“Then don’t treat me like one!” she said in exasperation, harshly grabbing the trash bag back from Lindsey.

 

“Buffy,” Lindsey took hold of one of her hands.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just worried about you.”

 

“I’m fine, Linds,” she softened slightly and squeezed his hand, hoping he wouldn’t notice her sweating palms and trembling hand.

 

“Are you sure?” he eyed her warily.

 

“Yes, positive.  And see, it’s almost gone,” she pointed to the barely noticeable bump on her head and forced a grin on her face.

 

“All right.  But you better get your butt in bed after you finish cleaning up,” Lindsey ordered her sternly

 

“I promise.  I don’t want to keep Tara much longer anyway,” she referred to her friend who was upstairs with Ashlynn.

 

“Okay.  I’m gonna go help Oz get the music equipment shut down,” he leaned down and kissed her cheek before walking toward the stage area.

 

The moment Lindsey was gone, Buffy’s hand dropped down to grip the counter she was standing in front of.  Her fingers tightly held onto the wood as she tried to stop the room from spinning.  The action did little and the dizziness persisted.  Not wanting anyone to notice her discomfort, she forced herself to focus on cleaning up.  Her hand shakily reached for the leftover cup on the counter, almost knocking it over before finally grabbing it at the brim.  She managed to get it into the trash bag and realized that maybe she should go upstairs and get into bed.  Someone was sure to detect her unsure actions if she stayed down here much longer.

 

Glancing around the club, Buffy took note that her friends were all preoccupied at the moment.  With a bit of a struggle, she tied the top of the trash bag in a knot and slowly walked toward the door.  Her vision blurred causing two, then three, doors to swim before her eyes.  She blinked her them furiously, trying to still the moving images.  Finally, she reached the exit and as hurriedly as possible stepped outside, glad to be out of view of her friends.

 

Holding the railing tightly, Buffy descended the stairs in front of the club.  She turned left and walked to the dumpster that was just around the side of the building.  It took her two tries, but she managed to somehow throw the light bag of trash onto the top of the heap.  She took three steps back towards the entrance of the building before pausing to lean against the rough brick and clutch at her stomach.  Biting her lip, she tried not to scream as intense pains shot through her gut.

 

“Buffy?”  Damn!  She should have known he was out here.

 

“Go away, Angel.”  Buffy straightened up and forced her façade back up.

 

“No,” he spoke definitively.

 

She whirled around at the denial and immediately regretted it.  Her hand again sought the support of the wall to keep herself from falling.  “No?”

 

“No, I’m not going to leave you out here alone like this,” he waved his hand at her swaying body.

 

“W-what are you t-talking about?” she stuttered out as spots began to blot her vision.

 

“Something’s wrong with you,” Angel took a step closer, noticing that her footing looked more and more unsteady.

 

“I...I’m f-fine.”  Buffy was anything but fine.  She had no intention of telling him that, though.

 

“You’re lying,” he glared at her.

 

“Lea-....leave m-,” she never finished her sentence as her eyes rolled back in her head and her body went lax.

 

“Buffy!” Angel lurched forward and was able to catch her before she hit the ground.

 

He cradled her unconscious body in his arms.  For a split second, Angel reveled in the feel of her against him for the first time in seven years, but his glee was short lived.  Something was very, very wrong.  He could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the clamminess of her skin.  His eyes scanned her body searching for some sign as to the source of her illness, but there was nothing.

 

Holding Buffy securely in his arms, Angel strode quickly up the stairs and haphazardly pulled the door open.  In any other circumstance he would have been panicking about revealing himself to the others, but now was not the time for that worry.  He was concerned with Buffy’s health and nothing else.

 

“Willow!” Angel bellowed the second he entered into the club.

 

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TBC!!