Angel managed to find the way back to his bedroom, an accomplishment that pleased both him and Willow.
"Short term memory still functional," she smiled.
She grabbed her bag of clothes and moved towards the door, when Angel's uncertain voice stopped her.
"Um, Willow? I'm sorry, but, where are my clothes?"
She sighed dramatically, and directed him towards the huge walk-in closet, pausing as she stood in front of the entrance.
"Brace yourself- this might not be what you're expecting." With that, she threw open the doors. Angel entered the closet, and Willow heard his muffled sound of surprise.
"These are my clothes?" he asked incredulously.
The newly awakened vampire found himself surrounded by an incredible array of the lushest fabrics imaginable. Everywhere he looked, there were yards of satin, silk, and velvet. Mesmerized, he jumped at the sound of Willow's voice behind him.
"Pretty snazzy, huh?"
He began running his hand through the many hangers, his fingers revelling in the softness of the garments. When he reached the end, he noticed a small section that was separate from all the other clothing.
He turned to Willow, a perplexed look on his face, a pair of pants in his hands.
"Leather?"
Willow grimaced. "Those were mostly from your soulless phase, so I wouldn't recommend them unless you want to freak everyone out. Leather jackets, however," she moved to the other side, "are completely acceptable. There are also plain white shirts in the bureau, if you don't feel like being too adventurous your first day. Now get dressed, and I'll meet you downstairs in half an hour." She patted his shoulder and left.
Angel hung up the pants, closed his eyes, and pulled out a shirt at random.
It was indigo satin.
"I don't think so," he muttered.
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When Angel arrived downstairs, he found Willow sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. She was wearing the fuzziest sweater he had ever seen, the color of forget-me-nots. 'Wow,' Angel thought, 'that color really brings out the green in her eyes. That sweater looks so soft! I wonder what it feels like. I wonder what she feels like. Wait- she's talking- I hope I didn't choose something really dumb to wear-'
"Well, gosh, Angel, if it weren't for the confused look in your eyes, I'd say you remembered everything. You always used to wear a leather jacket with a white undershirt. So, are you ready to go?" Angel nodded, then held up his hand.
"Sure, but just for the record- where exactly are we going?"
Willow shook her head. "Nope. We're just going to go, and hope that if I don't tell you everything, something will jog your memory. So let's go!" She linked elbows with him (sending electric shocks up his arm) and tugged him out into the dark night.
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Angel recognized not a single one of the landmarks leading the way to the library. As he and Willow stood in front of the school she asked for the hundredth time, "Know where we are?"
"Sunnydale High School," Angel answered. Willow's eyes grew large with excitement.
"You remember? This is completely wonderfu-"
"Willow? I read the sign," Angel interrupted.
"Oh. Right." Willow led him inside.
"The library."
"I suppose it's too much to hope for that you actually remember that, as opposed to just noticing that we're in a room whose sole purpose seems to be holding books?"
"Just a little too much," Angel smiled sadly at her.
Suddenly, they heard a voice behind them.
"Willow, Angel, hello." Turning, Angel saw a man dressed in rather ratty tweed.
"How are you feeling Angel? I can see you've woken up," the man asked.
"Yes, I'm much better..." Angel struggled to find a name to match the face he was seeing, but came up with absolutely nothing. He turned to Willow helplessly.
"Giles. His name is Giles," she supplied quietly.
"I'm sorry, did you just tell Angel my name?"
Willow walked over to the table and sat heavily in one of the chairs.
"Well, Giles it's like this. Angel woke up a few hours ago, but without any memory of the past three years."
"You mean, he has amnesia?"
"Precisely."
"But, but, this is incredible," the Watcher sputtered. He turned to the rather uncomfortable vampire. "What is the last thing you remember?"
"Um, last night it was 1996 and I was living on the streets in New York. Today, I find out that I live in a mansion and have missed three really strange years. So, from my perspective, it's nice to meet you."
Something in what he had said had struck Willow, who approached him with concern in her eyes. She laid her small hand on his forearm.
"You were homeless?"
Angel looked at her, saw the sorrow and tears in her eyes, and gulped at the lump in his own throat. 'She cares about me. Oh, I like hearing that.'
"Yeah, I pretty much made no attempt to live like a human. While evil, I was always very stylish, debonair. I think I wanted to get away from that, from the mindset of believing I was above humans in any way." He was extremely disappointed when she took her hand away, and extremely elated when he discovered it was only so that she could pull him into a hug.
'Oh, I knew she would be fuzzy and warm and splendid for holding. I shouldn't think like that...
But he did, and for a moment he merely revelled in the tiny redhead who was holding him close.