"Hey," Buffy said when he opened the door. Angel blinked; she looked exhausted, her hair was clipped up in back with lose strands hanging out from the fashionable clip, and dark shadows lay under her eyes.
"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, opening the door wider so that she could come in.
"Giles!" she exclaimed, falling back onto his couch gratefully. "He's on this weird extra-training kick. Every damn Saturday for the past three weeks it's been all-training, all the time. I don't know *what* his problem is."
Angel looked down at the floor for a moment, biting his lip guiltily. "Maybe he just feels you could use a little more training," he answered weakly after a moment.
Buffy's eyebrows raised and she stood, staring at him suspiciously. "What do you know?" she asked. "You wouldn't have anything to do with my three hours worth of increased training hell, would you?"
"Why would I?" he countered, staring at her with feigned confusion. She wasn't buying it, she crossed her arms and continued glaring at him.
"Do you realize," she started slowly, "that, for said past three weeks, I've been at school from eight in the morning till twelve in the afternoon practicing kicks and punches that I've had down cold for over three years? Now, I want you to look at me and tell me that you know absolutely nothing about this."
Angel cleared his throat. "You hungry?" he asked, turning towards the kitchen.
Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Angel, what do you know?"
"I . . . I might have recommended to Giles that he . . . well, that . . . that he increase your training a little bit."
"You *what*?" she shrieked. "Why? Why on earth would you do that? If this has anything to do with you not wanting to see me . . . "
"No!" Angel protested, immediately. "No. It's not that."
"Okay . . . then why?"
"I'm worried about you," he admitted, after a moment of silence.
Buffy looked at him in honest confusion. "You're worried about me?" she repeated. "Why?"
Angel sighed and looked away for a moment. "I don't like that I can't protect you," he admitted. "I don't like that now that I'm human you have no back-up out there, no one who can help you out if you get in trouble. I just . . . I want you to be as good as you can be."
Buffy's expression softened. "Hey," she said softly, "don't worry about me. Angel, I'm fine. I did fine for the two months you totally avoided me, didn't I? I managed to live during those five months you avoided me last year when I first found out about the vamp thing. And I'll be fine now. I'm more than fine, this is . . . this is all I've ever dreamed about, you being human, us being together completely. No stupid vampire working for Spike is going to take that away from me . . . from us. Ever. Okay?" Angel ignored her and wrapped his arms around her; their lips met in an electric kiss that sent shivers up Buffy's spine as she wrapped her own arms around him and leaned against him, closing her eyes and savoring the moment.
"Spike, please," Drusilla begged, staring up at him with wide eyes filling with tears. "Please?"
"Dammit, Dru, no!" Spike shouted, pulling away from her harshly. "No!" he repeated.
"Why not?" she asked, and Spike whirled on her, she sounded entirely to sane and clear-headed for his tastes. "Why not?" she repeated. "Don't you want us all to be together again? One big family?"
"I'm not hearing this," Spike growled. "Dru, I'm sorry, pet, but this is one thing I'm not doing. I do *not* want him back."
"Spike . . . " A single tear dropped from Drusilla's eye.
"Give me one good reason why I should?"
"For me," Drusilla replied.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, love, it's not happening."
"Please?" she begged again, her voice earnest.
"Why do you want him back so much?" Spike demanded. "Am I not enough for you all of the sudden?"
"I just want us all together," she answered. "Together and happy, birds of a feather."
"I don't know if I believe that," Spike said. "The way I'm viewing it you'd rather be with Angelus than me. Am I wrong?"
"Yes!" she protested instantly, her eyes wide with sudden clarity. "Spike, there's plenty of me to go around. I just want us all together again."
"And if I did bite the little brat and make him one of us again, what's to stop the Slayer and the rest of those brats into making him human again?"
"Then we'll just bring him back again," Drusilla replied simply.
Spike looked at her skeptically. "Won't that get a little boring after awhile, pet?"
"He was right," she whispered. "She's to strong to defeat in a simple fight."
"So you're thinking that having her Angel be human and himself for three months, then an evil vampire for awhile, then back to human, then back to vamp, then back to human will drive her nuts? I'm feeling some doubt, Dru."
"No," Drusilla protested. "Him."
Again Spike saw a disturbing clarity and sanity in her eyes, but he suddenly understood her thinking. She wanted revenge against Angel for driving her insane, and what better way to do so than to drive him insane; not to mention weaken the Slayer at the same time. "You've got yourself a deal, pet."
He sat up straight in bed, gasping for breath and shaking like a leaf. Immediately Buffy was at his side, whispering words of comfort into his ear and holding him until the tremors ceased. This was something Angel had not gotten used to, the physical reactions to his common nightmares. It had become a sort of ritual with them, whenever Buffy's mother was away she would stay at his apartment, and therefore she was used to his dreams and the aftermath; besides, she had her own experience with nightmares. "You okay?" Buffy asked after a moment.
Angel took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before nodding. "I'm fine," he whispered, trying to shake off the disturbing images. It was hard; they were crystal clear in his mind.
"I don't think you are," she replied, staring at him with concern shining through her eyes. "This is the third one tonight, Angel."
He shrugged slightly, not wanting to talk about it. The latest dream from which he had just awoken was different from the others, and had shaken him more deeply than the others. He had seen Buffy lying on the ground, dead by his hands, or, rather, his teeth. Those horrific marks frightened him more than anything else had the power to, and seeing them on Buffy had rattled him beyond words. "I'm fine," he repeated, lying back down on the bed. Buffy curled up against him and propped herself up on her elbow, still watching him intently.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Angel nodded. "Yeah," he answered shortly, not wanting to get drawn into a conversation with her at the moment.
She decided to let the subject drop and relaxed against him, closing her eyes. Within moments she was sound asleep, snoring softly against his chest. He watched her for a moment, then kissed her forehead gently before sliding out of her embrace to get out of the bed and walk towards the kitchen. His throat was dry and, much to his amusement, he'd found that only soda could satisfy the still present desire for the taste of blood. While he no longer needed it certainly, blood had a certain taste to a vampire that was rich and full of all the flavors of life. Soda was a surprisingly accurate imitation.
Returning to the bed a few minutes later, he found that Buffy had not suffered in his absence. Instead, she had stretched out across the bed, curling her arm around his pillow instead of him. Angel shook his head in affection and headed towards the couch.
"You look tired," Xander commented affectionately as Buffy skulked into the library the next morning.
"Exhausted is more like it," Buffy muttered, sinking into a chair gratefully. "Actually no, exhausted falls short.," she added, rubbing her eyes.
"Good, you're here," Giles said, coming down the steps and looking far to awake for Buffy's tastes. "Ready for your train . . . " he stopped when he saw the glare she directed his way and instinctively took a step backwards when she stood.
"Giles," she started, "I am not ready for training. I've trained non-stop for the past three weeks, and don't give me that 'I thought you needed more practice' line, Angel already admitted the truth. Since I have proven that I *don't* need any more, shut the hell up, or I will practice. On you. Extensively."
"Um . . . all right," Giles finally replied, turning to head back into the stacks and away from his irritable slayer. Buffy watched him go then put her head down onto the wooden table and yawned.
"Maybe you should go home," Xander suggested, looking at her with concern. Buffy shook her head.
"No," she answered. "I've already ditched school twice this week, I don't need Snyder calling my mom when she gets back. Besides, I think I can manage to stay away for six measly little hours."
"Actually, I have my doubts," Xander replied, then turned when Willow walked into the library. "Hey, Will," he said tentatively. Xander had noticed an increase in the tension between the two of them, and was utterly clueless as to why.
Willow hardly spared him a glance. "Buffy, what's wrong?" she asked immediately when she got a look at her friend.
Buffy looked up and yawned again. "Nothing," she muttered. "I've never been better. Really." Willow and Xander both raised their eyebrows and looked at her skeptically. "Okay, okay, I feel sick, I'm cranky, I'm irritable, I'm tired of Angel never talking to me about anything, I'm tired of Giles trying to get me to train more per the recommendation of said Angel and, most importantly, I'm just plain tired. Happy?"
"Not really," Willow said after a moment. "Why don't you go home?"
Buffy rose from her seat angrily. "Go home?" she repeated. "Xander just told me that, and I'll tell you the same thing I told him, I can't go home. So shut up!"
Willow blinked, looking slightly taken aback. "Oh-kay," she said tentatively.
Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean to take my bad mood out on you . . . I'm just having a really bad day so far."
"We hadn't noticed," Xander commented dryly.
"I think you might be right," she said after a moment, to them both. "Maybe I should just go home today, sleep . . . " she sighed again, wistfully. "Sleep," she repeated, yawning once more and falling back into the chair she'd been seated on earlier. "God, sleep, it sounds so . . . so strange. Isn't it a strange word? Sleep? I mean what is sleep, anyway? Is it when you have your eyes closed? How does one decide what sleeping is?"
"Buffy, go home," Willow said softly, watching her and looking slightly concerned for her sanity.
"You haven't slept all weekend?" Xander asked at the same time, also looking concerned for her sanity.
"Oh no," Buffy replied. "I've slept. At ten minute intervals. Sleep ten minutes, be up ten minutes, sleep ten minutes, be up ten minutes, it's almost a new routine for me."
"How come?" Willow queried.
Buffy shook her head, not wanting to tell her friends that she'd been at Angel's the entire weekend, and not feeling comfortable telling them about his nightmares. "Not important," she muttered, standing again. "I am going home. I'll just tell my mom I was sick or something."
"I don't think she'd doubt it," Xander commented, smirking.
Buffy glared at him weakly, then turned and left the library, leaving Xander and Willow alone. "Well," Willow said, "I gotta go to class."
"No!" Xander protested, grabbing her arm. "No. Will, what's wrong?"
Willow raised an eyebrow delicately. "Nothing's wrong, Xander. Why would anything be wrong?"
Xander shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "It just . . . it seems like you're mad at me or something."
Willow snorted unattractively. "Mad at you?" she echoed. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
"Well, I'm not," she replied shortly, shaking her arm free of his grasp and hurrying out of the library. Xander watched her go and shook his head in confusion,wondering what her deal was.
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