Omitted

---

Part One

"I should never have let him come with me. It was too dangerous." Buffy paced around the mansion, and Willow could hear tears in her voice. "Buffy, it wasn't your fault. You were saving the world for the umpteenth time, and you did your best-"

"No! I should have been able to save him. If only I had been stronger..."

"Buffy, that is absolutely ridiculous. Stop it. At least he's alive. Well, not exactly alive, in that he is technically dead...okay, at least he's still undead, and, I'm not helping." She bit her tongue, and Buffy sank down beside her.

"Oh, Willow. Just look at him." He actually looked peaceful, for once.

"Buffy, if he's still here now, he will get better. We'll all help. Or, I will. I promise.

The two girls sat together, still unaccustomed to the thought of losing loved ones.

"Buffy!" Willow cut off her desperate ramblings. The blonde girl looked at her with frantic eyes.

"It...will...be...alright." "But I can't just leave you alone-"

"I'll be fine. Look, we have a vacation from school. My parents are going out of town, so they won't know I'm not at home. I can bring my laptop over, and we'll be alright. Giles will help, and do I need more reasons, or are you breathing again?" Buffy shook her head uncertainly. "You need me here..."

"I will survive. And so will Angel. Please, don't kill yourself with worrying. We'll be okay."

So Buffy went, although her departure was riddled with backward glances. And Willow moved into the mansion.

**

"Where am I?" was his first thought. The last thing he remembered had been living as a homeless person in New York, and this was certainly no alley. He felt something on his cheek, looked over to his side and gasped.

Lying there was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Her copper hair shone through the darkness, and her pale skin was positively luminescent. She was so small and delicate, she looked like she might break if handled roughly. He noticed her flowered pajamas, and her tiny hands.

It was about that time that it hit him- they were lying in bed together.

And he didn't even know her name.

Part Two

Angel was thinking furiously. He had a feeling he should probably figure out what was going on before this beautiful person beside him woke up. He tore his eyes away from her lovely face and looked around at his surroundings. The opulence of the huge bed and the room in which it sat was almost ludicrous, in light of the fact that the place he had fallen asleep had been a dumpster in Manhattan.

He looked down at himself, and found himself somehow clothed in silk pajamas. He had been wearing the same set of clothes for months, and now he was dressed in silk. Furthermore, he was clean, which was not the way he remembered himself being for a long time. He reached up to touch his head, and found that his hair was shorter than it had been yesterday. In moving his arm, Angel was astonished to find that although he was a bit sore and stiff, he was much stronger than he was accustomed to. More than that, there was something very different about him, something he was having difficulty putting his finger on--

He suddenly realized what was different. The dull ache of constant hunger that he had lived with for years was gone, yet he didn't remember feeding...

Filled with panic, Angel reexamined the sleeping beauty beside him. She was awfully pale, after all. Had he fed on her? 'Please, no, no!' he thought, and he reached over to check her for bite marks. He brushed her fiery hair away from her neck (ye gods, it's softer than these pajamas), but didn't see any telltale holes. He could hear her heartbeat, so he knew she was alive, but he needed to check the other side of her neck.

It was the insistent prodding of cold fingers on her tender skin that made Willow wake up.

"Ohmygoodness Angel, we were so worried, we didn't know if you were going to wake up, and I had to be all confident for Buffy or she would have freaked but I just didn't know what to do..." as she babbled on about how happy she was to see him, Angel tried to process the things she was saying.

'She knows me. I was unconscious. There is some person named Buffy.' He tuned back in to Willow's excited monologue.

"...it's not like there are any doctors for vampires, so we just had to do what we thought was best, and we fed you blood and just kept hoping eventually you'd wake up but what are you supposed to do with a comatose vampire anyway? Comatose for humans is like, no vital signs, but you don't have those anyway and I'm so happy that you're awake! Don't ever do that again- I was so worried!"

Her face that had been pressed into his chest lifted up to look at him, and he could see that her cheeks were wet with joyful tears. "Oh, Angel, I'm sorry, I hope I didn't hurt you, I was just so glad. Are you feeling okay? Can you sit up? Does your head hurt?" She helped Angel into an upright position as she spoke. He leaned against the pillows she arranged behind his back, wishing with all his might that he had some idea who she was. Whoever she was, she was probably the most gorgeous woman he had ever-

"Angel? Is that alright? Say something." He wished he could go on with this pretense of intimacy, but realized that he couldn't keep it up. He gave a slight shake of his head.

"I'm sorry, I can tell that you seem to know me, but," he paused, hoping something would make him remember. Nothing.

"Who are you?" Willow sat back with a thump.

"Who am I? Angel, are you kidding? You never were much for jokes, at least not when you had a soul, so now is not really a time to start." "What do you mean, when I had a soul? How do you know about my soul?" "Angel, I'm the one that restored your soul. How could I not know about it?"

"You're a gypsy?" "No, of course not, I just performed the gypsy curse again, and you know all this. Come on Angel, tell me you're joking." "I don't see- I don't understand- What do you mean you performed it again?"

"After you lost it, it seemed like the best way to save you." Angel's confusion was growing at every comment this young woman made. "After I lost what? What do you mean, save me?" Willow felt tears threatening.

"Your soul Angel, you lost your soul. When you and Buffy... do I have to say it? You know what I'm talking about!" Angel plucked at the bedclothes in frustration.

"I don't even know who you are, Miss, let alone what you're talking about."

Willow looked into his eyes, wishing they registered anything but blank confusion.

"Angel, it's me." No hint of recognition flashed in his fathomless eyes.

"It's Willow." Angel felt guilty, knowing he was the reason for the new tears flowing down her cheeks, wishing he knew how to make them stop. "I'm sorry, Willow, I just don't recall having ever met you before."

Willow realized something.

This was very bad.

Part Three

Willow slowly disentangled herself from the black sheets, wiping her eyes all the while. She stood up, holding onto the carved bedpost for support.

She didn't really know what she had expected. In her tendency to be optimistic, she had probably just hoped that Angel would be okay and everything would go back to normal. Still, even if he hadn't been as good as new, she hadn't expected this.

She hadn't expected amnesia. "Okay, Angel, I guess we should try and figure out exactly what you do remember. You remember the curse, so I'm going to assume you haven't lost the years up till then. According to you, what year is it?" Angel wished desperately she wouldn't look so sad. She was so beautiful, and his heart broke looking at her weeping loveliness. "1996. Last night, it was 1996, and I was in Manhattan." '1996,' Willow thought. 'That was when I first met Buffy- and Angel.' "Well, Angel, let me give you a quick recap of your life. I could start in 1996, but I think you don't quite believe me, so beginning at the beginning of what I know might convince you. You grew up in Galway, Ireland. One night, a blonde and oh-so-skanky vampire named Darla turned you into one. You become one of the cruelest and most vicious monsters to ever plague Europe. At one point you met an innocent young Catholic girl named Drusilla. You killed her family, drove her mad, and made her into a vampire. Eventually, William the Bloody, later known as Spike, joined your family. Later, you killed a gypsy girl, and were punished by having your soul restored to you." Angel interrupted her. "How do you know all this?"

"Angel, I still know you, whether or not you-" her voice caught in her throat, and she felt new tears in the corners of her eyes. "whether or not you remember me." She took a deep breath and continued on. "I don't really know much about your years with a soul. The only thing you ever told me is that you spent your time 'feeling guilty' and 'honing your brooding skills'. In 1996, you came to Sunnydale, California, which is where you presently reside. You made the acquaintance of Buffy-" "Buffy? You keep saying that name. Who is that?" He could see Willow's fingernails digging into the flesh of her palm, and knew that he had asked the wrong question.

"Buffy Anne Summers, the Vampire Slayer. You kept pulling this mystery guy act with her- coming out of nowhere, warning her about random dangers, disappearing. She stopped the Master from rising..." "The Master? She stopped the Master?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot- he knew Darla, so he must have known you. Yeah, she stopped him. Anyway, you and Buffy had a serious flirtation going on for some time. I remember how jealous you were when she went out with Owen...not the point. One night, The Three came after her, you helped fight them, and you two took refuge in her house. You slept on the floor next to her bed. The next evening, when she came back from school, the two of you kissed, but in the process, you put your vampire face on. That was pretty scary. Giles, her watcher, looked you up, and told us about your past tendencies towards terror and mayhem." Angel reflected on how odd it was, having his own life told to him. She could give him a glimpse, but it was the Cliffs Notes version. He just wanted the unabridged original full-length novel. "The next night, she came home and found you there. You were holding her mom, wearing your face, and her mother had been almost drained. Darla had done it, but Buffy threw you out. Anyway, Buffy went hunting for you at the Bronze, a club where we all hang out a lot. She couldn't kill you, and you told her the curse story. Darla showed, shot you, and was about to shoot Buffy when you dusted her." Angel started. "I killed Darla?" Willow looked at him. "Yes, Angel, you did. I was there. She accused you of loving a Slayer, and being consequently sick. She was right about the first part. You and Buffy agreed not to see each other anymore, although you still helped the rest of us sometimes, without letting Buffy know. At the time of our sophomore prom, there was a prophecy that the Master would kill Buffy. He did, but you and Xander, Xander being the other original member of our group of friends, saved her. She had drowned, but Xander resuscitated her. She dusted the Master, Hellmouth didn't open."

"So Buffy- she's a great Slayer." Willow nodded. "The greatest." "And I...love her." "Oh yeah. To continue, that summer, Buffy went to stay with her dad. When she came back she acted like a b-i-t-c-h, but it was just her having issues with the Master. The anointed one tried to bring the Master back, Buffy stopped it. You and Buffy pretty much mended your relationship after we stopped some guys trying to pull a Frankenstein and make themselves a girl. Ummmmm, Spike and Drusilla came to town-" "Spike and Dru came to California? Here?"

"Oh yeah. Spike had this whole kill the Slayer thing. Anyway, at some point, Buffy found out about your past with Drusilla. You told her the details. Spike tried to do this strength restoration ritual with you and Dru, but Buffy saved you before it killed you. You healed, and you and Buffy were totally and unashamedly in love for a really short time. You gave Buffy a claddagh ring for her seventeenth birthday." "I did?"

"Yes- but you two were only happy together for a few hours after that." "Why?"

"You both almost got killed by the Judge, but escaped. As far as I can tell, you went back to your place, and one thing led to another..." "You mean we..."

"Yup. So here's the thing about your curse that you should probably know. There's a clause- if ever your soul stops being a thing of torment to you, even for a moment, you lose it. Well, basically, after one such moment with Buffy, your soul was gone, and you were Angelus again. Buffy stopped the Judge, you were back with Spike and Dru. I don't really want to tell you about what those months were like. Basically, you were evil beyond all expectations, plus you had personal vendettas against all of us. You killed a lot of people we didn't know, but the worst was when you killed Ms. Calendar. She was a gypsy, but never told anyone, so we didn't even talk to her once you had changed. Giles was in love with her, and when you killed her, you left her body in his bed. A while later, you found Acathla, the demon. You decided to suck the world into hell. Meanwhile, Spike was so sick of you that he decided to help Buffy stop you. I found out that the reason you had killed Ms. Calendar was because she had recovered the original curse to restore your soul. I found the spell, and decided to try it. The first time, Xander got his hand broken, I was put in the hospital in a coma, and Giles was captured. While you tried to torture the secrets of Acathla out of him, I woke up and decided to try the spell again. You figured out your mistake, Buffy came to stop you, Spike fought on her side, you woke up Acathla, fought with Buffy, and I restored your soul just as Acathla began to do his thing. She had no choice but to kiss you goodbye and send you to hell." "She sent me to hell?"

"She had no choice. Nevertheless, it destroyed her. She ran away, but came back after about three months. A few weeks after school started, you came back from hell somehow. She kept it secret for awhile, and took care of you by herself. We found out eventually, had spats, recovered, and that brings us up to the present- which is 1999." "So I'm not only missing three years of my life, but they would appear to be some of the most interesting years anyone could ever lose." "No, Angel, you'll get your memory back, I'm sure of it. I mean, amnesia can't last forever. You just- you need to see familiar faces and things. I'm sure that when you see Buffy, it will all come back to you." "Maybe. When will I meet- well, see her?" Willow rubbed her temples. "I don't know. She was called out of town by the Watcher's Council." Angel figured that if he remembered anything, he would be able to talk to this young woman, but awkward silence was looming. "So, Willow, tell me about yourself. Are we friends?" Willow looked at him again. She tried to answer, but her face crumpled. Before he knew what he was doing, Angel had pulled her into his arms and found himself stroking her fiery hair.

"Willow, I'm sorry. I know that my questions upset you. Please don't cry- you're too beautiful to cry." For some reason, that seemed to make her cry harder.

"Oh, Willow, I'll try to remember, I will. Please, we'll make it work out. Come on, look at the bright side. You'll never have to worry about whether or not you've told me jokes already. Here, tell me a joke." 'What on earth am I talking about?' Angel thought to himself. 'Tell me a joke?' Still, he knew that his real goal was only to make her stop crying. Willow sniffed.

"Okay. Um...Ask me if I'm an orange."

"Are you an orange?"

"No." He looked at her in confusion for a moment, then sputtered out a laugh.

"What?" Willow could hardly keep a straight face if he was laughing, and a giggle escaped her now smiling mouth.

'Oh, heavens,' Angel thought. 'What a face.' A thought suddenly entered his mind, sobering his expression. "Willow, I didn't bite you, did I?"

"Goodness, no. Why would you even ask that?" "Well, today is the first day in a long time that I haven't woken up hungry..."

"Angel, your blood is in the kitchen. Do you want breakfast? Can you walk, or should I bring it?"

"I think I can make it." The two of them headed for the door, where Angel hesitated. He was in Willow's way, so she couldn't move till he did.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Angel knew it would bother her to hear him ask, but he had no choice. "Right or left?"

Fortunately, Willow had an irrepressible ability to bounce back from a crisis. As she pushed him in the direction of the kitchen, she sighed. "What on earth am I going to tell Buffy?"

Part Four

Angel watched from beneath his eyelids as Willow toasted her bagel. 'Alright, Angel, cut it out. You two are apparently friends, plus you're supposedly in love with the Slayer. Geez, a Slayer? Of all people, you idiot. Look how red her hair is... STOP IT!' Willow was completely unaware of her companion's inner monologue as she opened the fridge door.

"Okay, Angel, what's your fancy?" Angel, who had been admiring her tapering fingers, brought his attention to what she was saying.

"Fancy? What?" "For breakfast. There's some A negative, B positive, and oh- there's one bag left of O negative. Which vintage do you consider appropriate for this morning?"

She grinned up at him and his heart melted. "Um, I don't know. I haven't eaten human blood since before the curse-" he paused and shook his head.

"Okay, that I can remember, I haven't eaten human blood since before the curse. Why don't you choose for me?"

Willow nodded. She raised an eyebrow haughtily, and with a snooty maitre d' voice, pulled out three bags.

"This morning, monsieur, you have a splendid selection. The A negative has a delicate flavor, simple yet... intriguing. The B positive is more robust, definitely the heartiest, the earthiest of the three. Then there is the O negative, which has a remarkably complex composition. Not quite as pedestrian as the universal O positive, yet with a characteristic flavor that doesn't require a discriminating palate to appreciate. Now of course, I would recommend all three, but confidentially," she lowered her voice to a stage whisper and leaned closer to him, "I am of the opinion that the O negative is eminently suitable. Monsieur has been well pleased by it in the past."

She picked up the bag and grabbed a glass from the cupboard. Angel couldn't pour, since he was still laughing too hard to even stand up without the support of the counter.

She handed Angel his glass just as her bagel popped up in the toaster. He was about to take a sip, when he realized the sight of someone downing a glass of blood might not be that appetizing for a human. "Would you rather I drank this somewhere else?"

Willow looked at him in surprise. "It's sweet of you to ask, Angel, but I've been feeding you your meals for awhile now. I'm not squeamish anymore, so chow down."

Angel gave up his efforts to try and ignore her loveliness. Even in her bleary-eyed sleep-tousled state, she maintained her luminescence. Her eyes sparkled, a result of her happiness at Angel's awakening. She was a bit subdued from the shock of the memory loss, but hope that he would remember everything had restored the spring in her step. She was utterly and undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he had ever... "What? Angel, what is it?"

Startled out of his reverie, Angel realized he had been staring. Again. Willow was still looking at him quizzically.

"Sorry, Willow. I didn't mean to stare- I was, well, thinking." "'Bout what?"

'Um how incredibly gorgeous you are. No, that won't work.' "Well, it's sort of strange to taste human blood again." "Oh, that. Well, normally, you don't. I mean, you normally drink animal blood, but since you were sick, we figured you should get nothing but the best."

"But don't humans need this blood? Couldn't it be put to better use?" "What would be a better use than helping you get better?" she asked sweetly. Angel's heart no longer beat, but if it did, it would have skipped several.

"In any case, that blood would never have gone to humans anyway. It's from Willy's."

"Willy's?" "Yeah, you know-" she broke off, shaking her head ruefully. "No, you don't. Hey, I can forget stuff too. He runs a bar for vamps, sells information, gets beat up a lot."

"Why would other vampires buy blood? Half the thrill of feeding comes from the hunt..." he trailed off, looking into the dregs of his glass, refusing to meet Willow's gaze. Her musical laughter shocked him into looking back at her.

"I'm sorry, Angel. It isn't that it's funny, but- you seem to want to conceal the fact that you're a vampire, that you have vampiric instincts. You don't have to feel ashamed about it. You didn't choose it, and you manage to fight your nature. Besides, I don't doubt for a moment that evil is enjoyable. The fact that it's hard to give up makes your triumph that much more impressive." She grinned, then jumped to her feet. "Enough reassurance talk! We are going to take a tour of Sunnydale, and hope to high heaven that something jogs that sticky memory of yours. C'mon, let's get dressed."

Angel followed her pajama clad figure out the kitchen door, wondering if he had realized how lovely she was before he lost his memory. He wouldn't have thought it was possible not to, but he was in love with someone else.

Well, he had been.

Part Five

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.

"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.

"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.

Part Six

Xander walked into the library, less than pleasantly surprised to find a tearful Willow in Angel's arms.

"Woke up, huh? Pity." Whatever reaction to his comment he had expected, he got something quite different.

"Um, yeah, okay, and you are?"

Xander looked incredulously at the vampire. "What are you talking about? What are you trying to pull?"

Willow finally disentangled herself from Angel's embrace (a fact that left him feeling irrationally depressed) and turned to glower at her friend.

"Xander, shut up. You have no idea what's happened. Can you try, just this once, to be rational on a topic involving Angel?"

He shrugged abashedly, as Angel finally made the connection to who Xander was.

"Oh, so you're Xander! The one that Willow kept mentioning."

Xander looked at him with surprise. "Willow kept mentioning me?" Angel nodded.

"Yeah, you were one of the characters in my biography."

"Okay, I'm gonna have to go with 'huh'?" He looked to Willow for some sort of explanation, causing her to let out a weary sigh.

"Angel has amnesia, Xander. He doesn't remember any of us, he doesn't remember Buffy, and he doesn't remember coming to Sunnydale."

"Amnesia? Him? Geez, Angel, your life plays like a whacked out soap opera."

Angel looked at him curiously, then something clicked.

"Oh, I get it now. I was confused before, but now I understand."

"Understand what?"

"You don't like me." A sudden silence fell over the library. Xander's antagonistic attitude towards Angel had always been omnipresent and unmentioned. Angel discussing it so frankly was extremely uncomfortable at the very least.

"Xander, if you don't mind my asking, what is it about me that you don't like? Is it me, or is it something I've done to you?"

Xander stared at him, trapped and tongue-tied. His prejudices regarding Angel were the basis for their relationship, but he would never be able to explain them. They were fundamental, based on territorial posturing and jealousy. To put it in simpler terms, they were stupid. Therefore, Xander replied accordingly.

"Uhhhh..."

Willow sighed in exasperation. "Angel, Xander never liked you because Buffy was in love with you instead of him, and he feels threatened by the fact that women find you attractive. He also dislikes vampires quite intensely, and has never been able to tell the difference between you and Angelus."

"There is a difference between me and Angelus? I am Angelus."

Willow shook her head in disbelief. "See, you two agree on everything, which is why you should logically get along swimmingly. Angel, you blame yourself for everything, and so does Xander. You don't think you deserve Buffy, neither does Xander. You don't think you're any different from normal evil vampires, neither does Xander. For heaven's sake, you two are practically soulmates."

Her words confused both of them. Xander wasn't sure that Willow was wrong, but it disturbed him to think he might not have a basis for hating Angel. In Angel's case, getting yelled at for disliking a person he didn't remember was upsetting and bewildering. Of course, he was concentrating more on how cute Willow looked when she was on a tirade.

Her beautiful bright eyes were snapping with anger, her forehead wrinkled so adorably... oh, but she was still talking. He had to pay attention.

"...just try to get along! I'm tired of trying to smooth things out between you, when you're perfectly capable of doing it yourselves!"

Willow, like always, didn't feel better after ranting, and she definitely felt much worse when she saw the look on Angel's face.

"Angel, I'm sorry, I know you have no idea what I'm talking about. I have no right to reprimand you. But you-" she turned and poked her little finger in Xander's chest, "are going to have to try and humor me by doing your best to get along with him! He's an amnesiac, and he deserves your sympathy, not your jealousy!"

With that, she whirled around and headed for the doors.

"Um, Willow?" Giles called after her.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she answered shortly.

The three remaining occupants of the library stood in awkward silence for a moment.

"So, Angel," Xander said slowly. "How's the head?"

Part Seven

As Willow approached the library doors, she heard Xander's loud laugh. 'I thought I told him to be nice to Angel,' she thought angrily as she stormed through the doors.

She was a bit surprised when she realized that Angel was laughing too.

They both looked up as she entered the library, Xander still chuckling about the joke she had missed.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"Oh, Xander was just telling me some Willow anecdotes. They were enjoyable."

"Xander Harris, what tales have you been telling?"

"Calm down, Wills. Angel enjoyed hearing about your reaction to the stuffed frog I gave you." Willow's cheeks flushed crimson as she smacked Xander across his head.

"Angel, ignore anything this mental patient has told you."

Angel's eyes actually twinkled as he grinned up at her. "Frog fear?"

"Ribbit," Xander croaked, making Willow smack him once more.

Angel laughed again as he watched the two teens in mock battle, Xander eventually begging for mercy. He didn't notice Giles examining him, then retreating to his office.

**

Angel was trying to pay attention to the conversation, he really was. It was just that every time he looked at Willow, the rest of the world seemed to slow down as he drank in everything about her. By the time he finally managed to drag himself back to the conversation, the topic had always changed. He would regroup, but by the time he finally figured out what they were talking about, Willow would catch his eye again and he'd refreeze.

Dang inconvenient, but awfully pleasant.

What was it about this girl? Ever since he had been cursed with his soul, he had wandered the earth in confusion. He had been a mass of guilt and bewilderment, not knowing where to go or how to live. He had been so profoundly alone, and the pain from his reinstated conscience had been unceasing. Every crime he had ever committed ran through his mind over and over, not allowing him a moment's peace.

Until now.

Oh, he certainly still felt guilty, and his soul still plagued him. But he had long since learned how to control the demon. It was the confusion that had blocked out any hope or rational thought for so many years that had diminished. He still felt confused, as would any amnesiac. But not about his place, not anymore.

From the very first moment that he had seen Willow, her sleeping head resting beside his own, he had felt her acceptance. She had trusted him enough to share his bed, something that he would never have expected from a human who knew what he was. During the time he couldn't remember, she had watched him revert to the demon his body housed, watched him kill her friends, she had even come close herself to being killed by his own hands. Yet she had seized those same hands with fervent joy upon his awakening, and she never gave the slightest indication of any wariness around him.

Angel had always assumed that a human would have to be crazy to trust him, because he didn't trust himself. But Willow trusted him utterly, in a way he had never seen, even between humans. And she wasn't crazy. In fact, she knew more about him than he did. If the girl who was always right thought he was trustworthy, maybe it was true.

And maybe that was why Angel was learning how to laugh again.

"Well, she had that whole resolve face thing going on, so I didn't have much of a choice. Besides, Angel and I have gotten along. Occasionally. Briefly."

"Like when?" Willow asked skeptically.

"Well, there was that time we saved Buffy after the Master killed her. Okay, I had to use a cross on him to get him to help me find her, and I accused him of checking out my neck, but we shared a moment when she started breathing again. We actually smiled at each other. And we were both pissed off by her that time she was acting bitchy. And we were getting along when Spike first came, until Angel used me as bait, anyway. We fought those snake-frat guys together. We got along when I was turned into a soldier, and we both hated Ford. Remember, I agreed when Angel said Ford's leaving no paper trail was incriminating?"

"Xander, if I recall correctly, you called Angel 'Dead Boy' that same night, immediately followed by 'Bossy the Cow'."

"But I said I agreed with Dead Boy. It was just a new name for him."

Angel was slightly disgruntled, because he felt like a complete outsider in the midst of a conversation that was about him. Willow, of course, noticed.

"You know, it's Angel's first day of consciousness in awhile. Maybe we should head back to the mansion." Angel couldn't help but hear the 'we' in her sentence, and something inside him glowed.

"Yes, why don't you do that. But Willow, I'll need you back here tomorrow just after sundown. There are some things we need to figure out." Willow nodded to Giles and ruffled Xander's hair as she grabbed her jacket.

"Okay, Angel, you lead the way. I'll just follow and be delighted when you remember how to get there. Goodnight fellas."

"Goodnight, and thanks," Angel added.

He walked out of the library, intensely aware of the girl behind him whose steps somehow matched his own.

Part Eight

Angel was trying to remember which way he was supposed to turn at the next street corner in order to get back to the mansion. He had intended to pay attention to his surroundings on the way to the school, but he had been focusing more on the diminutive redhead who was now walking behind him.

Angel was praying for something, anything, that would keep Willow form realizing he didn't know how to get there.

Unfortunately, something came.

Perhaps Angel had forgotten that prayers sometimes come true in undesired ways, or maybe he simply figured a prayer coming from him would never be answered. In any case, a distraction materialized five yards from the intersection, in the form of several growling vampires.

"Uh-oh," Willow whispered. "I don't have my cross, and I only have one stake." Her voice was steady, but there was a panicky undertone that Angel hated to hear.

"We'll be fine, Willow. I promise."

She looked at him trustingly, her eyes large and frightened in the moonlight. Angel could feel himself being dragged down into them...

That was when the first vamp attacked. Angel growled as his opponent flung himself into his chest, more irritated by having his moment with Willow interrupted than by the physical assault. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Willow fending off another vampire. His mind was only half focused on his own fight, because all he could think about was the girl fighting behind him.

And that was why his attacker was pretty much beating the crap out of him, without Angel really noticing. What Angel did notice, however, was that Willow was losing ground. He noticed even more when the vampire managed to punch her in the mouth, leaving a tiny drop of blood trickling down her pale cheek.

That was when Angel pretty much went ballistic.

The sight of blood on her beautiful face made something snap in his head, which led pretty quickly to him snapping the vampire's neck. He launched himself at the vamp who had hit Willow, grabbing the stake from her hands and dusting it without blinking a yellow eye. He became a blur of motion, moving so quickly that the vampires didn't have time to see him, let alone strike him before he plunged the stake into their cold hearts. Once they were all gone, he turned just in time to see Willow faint, and he caught her just before she hit the ground.

He dropped the stake and gathered her into his arms. He dashed back to the mansion, never once hesitating or wondering which way to turn. He didn't notice the figure in the shadows, who had seen the fight and stood silently watching.

"Oh, mostly stupid. Gee, I'll walk around Sunnydale without a cross and a person who has been in a coma for weeks."

Angel bit his lip, not knowing what to say.

"But Angel, wow, when you started fighting after that one hit me- my goodness. In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you fight like that. It was amazing. You saved my life- again."

"Again?"

"Yeah, you saved me from the evil watcher fire throwing glove lady."

Angel nodded. "Good. It's a life worth saving."

She smiled her sweetest smile, and oh goodness, he wanted to kiss her. He had almost begun to lean forward when he realized it was out of the question. All he would accomplish would be to spoil their lovely moment and make her go away. He couldn't bear for her to go away. Instead of taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly, he contented himself with laying down beside her and taking her hand in his own.

'Look at her hand- it's tiny! It's barely as large as my palm! So warm and soft...'

And for once, Angel contemplated something considerably more pleasant than his overwhelming burden of guilt.

"Yes, I am Rupert Giles." He stood up and closed the door.

"Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Sounds like some unforeseen events have been occurring."

"To say the least. Allow me to fill you in."

Giles gestured for Whistler to sit down, and began to tell him about Angel's amnesia.

Part Nine

"So let me get this straight," Whistler said slowly. "Angel just lost three years of his life, starting right before I met him?"

"Exactly," Giles replied. "Willow was with him when he woke up, and he didn't even know who she was."

"She was with him when he woke up, huh? That explains it."

"Explains what?" Giles asked confusedly.

Whistler avoided answering the question at first. "Since he woke up, tell me this- is he different?"

"Different how?"

"His personality. The way he acts, the way he talks. Is he the Angel you knew?"

Giles looked at him for a moment, wondering where Whistler was going with his question.

"No, he isn't the same. He's not extremely different, but he's more open, more anxious to please."

"Less broody?"

"Exactly."

Whistler got up and began pacing.

"I guess I should tell you that I already saw him, on my way to the library. He and Willow were attacked by some vamps-"

"What? Are they alright?"

"They're fine, thanks to Angel. I was about to help them, when one of the vamps hit Willow-"

Giles stood furiously. "Is she hurt?"

"No, she's fine, but Angel was just as pissed as you are now. Then he proceeded to take it out on the whole gang. They were dust in under five minutes. I've never seen Angel fight so well, and it might be my fault..." he trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

Giles eventually grew tired of waiting for Whistler to continue. "What might be your fault?"

Whistler sighed as he dropped into his chair again. "When I first found Angel, he was a wreck. He was weak, filthy, and way into self-castigation. He was living like an animal. I brought him to LA, and he was there when Buffy was called."

"You mean..."

"Yeah. He saw Buffy, and loved her, long before she ever met him. Anyway, there was no way he was going to be any help to her in his bedraggled state. So, I trained him. Taught him how to get along in the world, taught him how to fight. But seeing what he did for Willow tonight, I'm thinking I used the wrong methods."

"Methods?"

"Yeah. See, Angel's always had that tendency to assume all possible guilt. In my haste to get him ready to help your girl, I'm thinking maybe I exploited that. See, his love for Buffy was his deepest inspiration to improve himself, to 'become somebody'. But at the end of a tiring training session, he wasn't really thinking about the love of his life. He hadn't seen her since that day, and however strong an impression love at first sight leaves, she wasn't the only thing he thought about. Anyway, if his energy was starting to lag and I could see he was ready to call it quits, I just found it easy to press that guilt button. 'Hey, Angel, don't you owe it to the people you've murdered to at least try a little harder?' Stuff like that. It wasn't nice, but I wanted him prepared.

Still, I didn't know I was doing anything permanent. I think I helped clarify his self-hatred. I thought it was for the greater good, but now, I'm thinking the ends didn't justify the means."

"Why do you say that?" Giles was fascinated by this insight into the unfathomable vampire.

"Well, tonight, when I saw him fighting, it wasn't to make up for a long list of crimes he needs to make amends for . He was fighting for Willow, and he was fighting better than I've ever seen. Maybe if I had made Buffy his inspiration back in the day..."

"You think Willow is the reason for his new prowess in battle?"

"C'mon, Watcher, open your eyes. Angel did, and the first thing he saw was the redhead. Now, I know that Buffy and Angel have that whole 'eternal love' thing goin' on. But what if you woke up from a lifetime of pain and horror to find Willow there, welcoming you back with open arms? You yourself said that he seems anxious to please. Well, who exactly is he so anxious to please? Is it maybe that tiny girl who is doing more for him than I ever managed?"

Giles stared at him wordlessly, overwhelmed by the implications of Angel falling in love with Willow. Whistler nodded, thinking along the same lines.

"It's true."

"No way."

"It's true."

"No way."

"Willow, I'm telling you, I met Jane Austen."

"Well if it's true, which I'm not admitting, then she was lucky to get out alive. How did she get out alive?"

"Well, she was cute. But more than that, Darla hated her books, and I was sick of following her around."

"Jane Austen?"

"Darla. The day that I left her, I bought a copy of 'Persuasion' and left it on her bed. I can still hear her growling."

Willow giggled, both at the thought that an agent of evil like Angelus had used the literary tastes of his mistress to torment her, and at the fact that Angel was tracing random patterns on the back of her hand. "That tickles-" she started as she twisted to look at him, but cut off her sentence with a hiss of pain.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Angel's playful eyes were immediately filled with concern.

"Just touched my cheek. It's still sore."

He cradled her chin gently between his huge hands, examining the forming bruise.

"I'm sorry I let him hit you, Willow."

"Let him? Angel, you were busy at the time. Anyway, since you proceeded to collectively dust each and every one, I think an apology is definitely superfluous."

'Oh, she's smiling at me again,' Angel thought. 'If my heart is supposedly so cold, why does it feel all jumpy when she does that?'

He managed to smile back. Then he replaced her head on her pillow with the utmost care.

"No, Angel, I don't wanna sleep-" she yawned.

"You watched me stay unconscious for weeks. I can certainly watch you for eight hours." She laughed quietly, and the mansion fell silent yet again.

Part Ten

'Okay, you pathetically sentimental excuse for a creature of the night. Stop it. Stop playing with her hair. Stop running your fingers through it. Yeah, okay, it's soft, we've established that.

Have you forgotten that she doesn't think of you in that way? You moron. She thinks you're in love with her best friend, who you may not remember, but is probably a pretty wonderful person, and why won't my hand listen to me? I tell it to stop, it ignores me. So, think about something other than this copper silk in your hands.

Think about Buffy, who you can't remember. Okay. Well, she's a Slayer. I wonder what she looks like. I wonder if she has big muscles. I wonder what color her hair is. Is it red like this? Impossible. No two people on earth can have hair like this. And again, I have managed to return to thinking about Willow's hair.

Stupid disobedient hand.

Soft soft soft...

Talk about ridiculous. For a hundred years, I have managed to fight the urges of a demon that lives inside me begging for blood that smells of fear. Yet, I can't...stop...my...hand...'

Suffice it to say, he couldn't stop.

And Willow was having a _really_ nice dream.

She stirred reluctantly. "I don't wanna go. Can't you keep me here?"

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I won't tell."

Angel had never had a more tempting offer, nor one that was harder to refuse.

"Why? Seems like an asset if it makes him fight like that." Whistler shrugged.

"You seem to have forgotten the tempestuous drama that is Angel and Buffy. How do you think she will react when she discovers his feelings for her best friend?"

"She'll understand after considering the extenuating circumstances?"

"Oh, yes. The teens that I watch over are so very understanding when it comes to affairs of the heart. My goodness, the amount of jealousy between them boggles the mind. The air is thick with it. Xander and his jealousy of Buffy, Willow's jealousy of Xander, Xander's jealousy of Willow as well. Jealousy is the only poison that can ever make this group fall apart. Maybe it's because they care so much about one another, but the destructive force and protective nature of their love is incredible. Buffy has always feared that Angel might stop loving her.

How can I tell her that it has happened, by no fault of her own, or anyone else? She tends to be rather...emotional. Especially on the topic of Angel. When she was forced to kill him, she ran away for three months. What will she do when she figures out what has happened between him and Willow? What if she becomes violent? I have smelled disaster before, and that is what I smell now."

"It can't be that bad."

"No, it's worse. I'd rather have the hellmouth open yet again than be the one to tell her what happened. I'd rather see the Master rise."

"Hey, you don't have to worry about it immediately. She's still away on that Council thing, right?"

"Yes, but they haven't told me when she's getting back. I am not exactly on speaking terms with the Council. Why did they have to call her away while Angel was in a coma? Why did Willow have to be the first thing he saw when he woke up?"

"Hellmouth breeds bad luck."

"I hate this town. Look, is there any possibility that he isn't in love with her? Maybe it's an agape sort of love, like the love for a sister."

"C'mon, Watcher. Don't you ever look at his eyes?"

"I don't make a habit of it, no-" he broke off at the sound of footsteps out in the library.

"That must be them now." He walked out of his office and proceeded to practically choke on his tongue.

"Buffy. Back so soon?"

Part Eleven

"Nice greeting, Giles. Hey, I missed you too." Buffy seemed confused by the shock on her Watcher's face.

"I'm sorry, Buffy. I'm just surprised to see you. Very surprised. Excuse me."

Buffy stood in stunned silence as he dashed back into his office. She heard him talking to someone within, and a moment later he returned.

"Giles, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry Buffy. How was your trip?"

"Oh, it was terrific, thanks for asking. I had to go waste my time with the Watcher's Council, all of whom make you look like the life of the party. I had to eat British 'food', and I use the term loosely. I couldn't get four words out at a time without someone correcting my grammar. They all thought it was so much fun to quiz me on the Handbook, the same Handbook that you've never actually showed to me. These people had stake-whittling contests, Giles.

They made me sleep in a lumpy bed in a freezing room with no hot water, get up at six every morning to go to boring meetings and ceremonies where they told me I had done them proud in spite of my watcher and I never had a chance to tell them to piss off and explain that you are the only reason I'm still alive. They kept telling these anecdotes about Slayers in the past, and they couldn't have made the job sound more boring.

'Ellen Sawyer, the only Slayer who only retained her post for less than thirty minutes due to a timber shortage...'

They tried to make me read history books, and they all explained that it was my duty to kill Angel," Giles winced as she said the name, "and 'though they couldn't force me to do it, I should certainly consider my duties as the Chosen One,' "

"Buffy,"

"They never let me go to the bathroom. They wouldn't even let me go outside, I was just stuck in these huge drafty rooms all day long. Then I got my period, and they were all men who wouldn't know what the word 'menstruate' meant unless it was some immortal demon,"

"Buffy,"

"So I had to find a maid, and of course she was past menopause, so she had to call her daughter.

And _then_ , they made me train in front of the entire gathered Council. All of them! In an arena! I was fighting a dummy in an arena, being watched by hundreds of men who aren't accustomed to spandex as an every day experience,"

"Buffy,"

"So all in all, it was a pretty humiliating experience when I was reduced to begging in order to get your job back,"

"Buffy," Giles sighed. Then he immediately did a double take. "What did you say?"

"Oh yeah. I tried threatening, I tried demanding, but nothing less than my finest begging was capable of achieving the desired effect. It was humiliating, and then I come back to discover that you seem put out by my return-" she was cut off by Giles crushing her in a hug.

"Buffy," he muttered into her shoulder, "you are the finest girl." When he pulled away, there were tears in her eyes.

"What can I say, Giles? I got used to having you around."

As they stood together, Giles effectively shielded Buffy from the view of anyone who might enter the library. So when Xander came in, he can be forgiven for blurting out something he might not have otherwise.

"Hey, Giles. Where's Willow and her not-so-secret admirer?"

Giles turned around slowly, and Xander's eyes widened as he saw Buffy standing there.

"Who do you mean? Oz?"

Xander's mouth opened and closed without any sound escaping for a few moments, much in the manner of a large fish. He was, however, spared from the necessity of responding as Willow and Angel entered the library hand in hand.

Part Twelve

Buffy blinked once, and then she launched herself into Angel's arms. "You woke up! I knew you would! Oh, I'm so relieved. I was so worried, and then I had to leave the country and oh my goodness it's good to see you conscious again!"

She pulled back to look at him, joyful tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you woke up," she whispered.

Angel looked at the tiny woman in his arms for a moment. "You must be Buffy."

Her forehead puckered in confusion at the statement. Angel leaned over to whisper in Willow's ear. "That is her, right?"

Buffy released her grip on Angel's neck and backed away uncertainly. "What is going on?" she asked quietly. She noticed that Willow patted Angel's arm reassuringly as she stepped forward to explain.

"Buffy, some...stuff happened while you were gone. Angel woke up-"

"When?"

"A few days ago. He woke up, but, well, he has amnesia."

"You mean he doesn't remember who he is?"

"No, no, he knows who he is. When he woke up, he thought it was 1996. He's only lost three years, but he didn't remember any of us."

Buffy stood motionless as she assimilated what Willow had said. Then she turned to Angel. "So you don't remember me," she said dully, making a statement, not asking a question.

Angel shook his head.

Willow put her arms around Buffy as she began to cry softly. Angel felt terrible for being the cause of her obvious pain, but part of him saw Willow comforting her and marvelled at how wonderful a friend she was.

"Why don't we all sit down," Giles said quietly, leading Buffy towards the table. Angel and Willow sat down opposite of the still teary-eyed slayer.

Xander exchanged a panicked glance with Giles, who was clutching the arms of his chair in dread. Whistler eased back into his seat, having experienced Buffy in a fury. Only Angel and Willow remained clueless.

Angel, because he hadn't been paying attention to anything other than Willow's mouth, and Willow because she was truly unaware that the change in Angel's behavior had anything to do with her.

"What?" she asked, suddenly alarmed by the look on her best friend's face.

That was about when Buffy lost it. "How could you do this to me?" she yelled, her eyes flashing. "Don't you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

"Buffy, that's hardly fair," Giles interrupted, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Screw fair! No one cares about fair in regards to me!" she shrugged off his hands furiously, looking across the table with venom in her eyes. "Why do you get to take everything that is mine?!" she shrieked.

Willow's chin began to tremble, and Xander stood angrily. "Buffy, this isn't Willow's fault."

Buffy looked at him in genuine confusion. "What makes you think I was talking to Willow?"

"Well- Angel, and Willow, so--"

"I would never say such hateful things to Willow!" she exclaimed. "It isn't her fault that people love her." Buffy stood up, more pissed off than before. She walked around the table, but she was headed towards a spot a few feet behind Willow's chair.

"I was talking to the God...Damned...Hellmouth!" She fell to her knees, pounding the spot on the recently repaired library floor with her fists. Her body was shaking with sobs as she beat the floor with all her strength.

"I hate you...I hate you...I hate you..." she repeated endlessly as Giles quickly crossed to her side. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her trembling body into his office.

As he closed the door behind him, everyone remaining at the table looked at one another unhappily. Angel was the first to break the silence.

"I'm sorry, but- are you telling me the Hellmouth is right here in the library?"

Xander's only response was to drop his head into his hands.

Part Thirteen

Giles sat wordlessly as Buffy fought to regain control of herself. She wasn't able to stop shaking, but she finally managed to speak.

"Why am I different, Giles?"

"Different from what?"

"From every one. I mean, of course, normal people. 'Chosen One' kind of implies that I'm not like most people. But I can't even be like other Slayers. One thing I actually learned from my quality time with the Council is that Slayers have always been slaves to their destiny.

Killing vampires was the only thing they cared about, the only thing they lived for. Living to kill death- not glamorous, but worthwhile.

Then along comes Buffy. She doesn't get it. She makes jokes while she's killing, she makes jokes about killing. She has friends. She has family. She wears platforms, which require an entirely new fighting style.

I can't seem to just kill vampires. I have to let them kill me, and then I come back to life. Or I fall in love with them. Or I make deals with them. Why? Why do I always get to know them? It never helps, and most of the time it makes my job harder. Look at me. The Slayer is supposed to be a killing machine, but I'm just a mess." Her voice cracked with weariness and emotion, and Giles slowly sank down to crouch beside her.

"Buffy, I don't know why you're different. I don't know why you ignore rules, why you always have to do everything your own way.

I do know that there is something inside you that makes you the best Slayer since the first was called. You say that the Slayer is supposed to think of nothing but halting the undead. Well, there are times when you think of anything but halting the undead, and you still do it better than the Council ever dreamed possible.

It's true, most Slayers are taught that duty comes first. I don't consider it a flaw on your part that you've managed to prioritize. Most Slayers consider their calling to be killing vampires. You consider yours to be that of saving lives, and I believe you have made the better choice." He stood up and headed for the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

"Of course, you have a tendency to save my life especially, so I may be a bit biased on that point."

A ghost of a smile crossed her tear-streaked face, and Giles slipped out the door silently.

"She's on the low end of her Angel spectrum, meaning that she's a crushed version of her normal self having serious doubts about the value of life, especially her own, and she's almost willing to go ahead and end it. The key word being 'almost', meaning she'll survive."

"I guess I don't understand. What is wrong?"

Giles looked at her hard for a long moment, amazed that such an intelligent and sensitive young woman could be so incredibly unaware of what was really going on. Then he turned to Xander. "Xander, take Willow into the stacks, please. Find the book we were discussing, and explain things to her."

Xander looked at him in shock bordering on fear. "Book? Discussing?"

Giles looked him straight in the eye. "And _explain_ things to her."

Xander, finally comprehending, nodded. "C'mon, Wills. Angel, we'll be back in a little while." He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her up the steps.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy. In any case, we didn't come up here to find a book."

"But Giles said-"

"Giles told me to explain things to you. So I'm going to. You honestly don't know why Buffy freaked, do you?"

"No, one minute Whistler was talking, the next I thought she was yelling at me, and you defended me, which was sweet, but then she attacked the floor-- I didn't really get any of it."

"Okay, listen good. She wigged because she realized what all of us already knew."

"Which is?"

"That Angel is in love with you."

Willow stared at Xander for a good ten seconds before bursting out laughing. "You had me going there, Xand-"

"Not kidding, for once. He's got it bad, and not for Buffy. I was finally becoming convinced of their eternal soulmate deal, and now he doesn't even remember her. All he sees is you."

"That is ridiculous-"

"Shut-up."

"What?"

"Look, Wills. Most of the time you know better than me. I'm aware of that. Most of the time you know better than everybody, as a matter of fact. But just this once, you're going to have to trust me. You should see the way Angel looks at you. He's like a man dying of thirst, and you're an oasis, and that sounded hokier out loud than it did in my head... Look, the fact is, he trusts you, he needs you, he loves you."

"He does not-"

"Again, shut-up. You can't see it, because every time you look at Angel, you think 'Buffy's'. Heck, so do I. So does everyone. But he isn't- not anymore. He didn't even know who she was, and he certainly isn't in love with her. You and Buffy are both beautiful, wonderful, and enticing. Unfortunately for Buffy, the way things are now, Angel met you first.

Buffy doesn't blame you, but you're gonna have to walk a fine line here. You know how she gets when her heart is broken. Angel's done it to her plenty already. You don't want to inadvertently do it yourself."

With a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, he left her there to process the unthinkable coming true.

Part Fourteen

Angel watched as Xander dragged a bewildered Willow up into the stacks. He envied the years that Xander had been able to spend with Willow, getting to know everything about her.

Actually, Angel envied himself, because he had known her for three years...

Giles interrupted his rather convoluted thoughts brusquely.

"Do you have any idea what is going on here?"

Angel looked up at the Watcher, not quite clear on why his expression was so severe. "Um. Well, not exactly. I mean, Willow told me-"

"What exactly did Willow tell you?"

"Well, I gather that I'm supposed to be in love with Buffy."

Giles sat down heavily. "But you aren't, are you?"

Angel really had no idea how to answer the question, and he merely remained tongue-tied. He didn't really understand why everyone seemed so upset that he didn't have any feelings for the Slayer. Since it seemed an incredibly unfortunate thing for a vampire to be in love with a Slayer in any case, he thought it would be a relief to have it over.

Giles obviously thought otherwise. He looked Angel straight in the eyes, and his tone was deadly serious.

"You don't seem to understand, Angel. You weren't 'attracted' to Buffy. Despite the fact that she is a teenager, she didn't have a 'crush' on you. The two of you did not flirt. You...were...in...love. You are not comprehending the magnitude of the love you shared. Think Romeo and Juliet, Catherine and Heathcliff. Try to comprehend the most painful, illogical, impossible, tempestuous love affair you can think of. You won't come close to what you had with the girl who is crying in my office.

The word soulmates is inadequate to describe the irresistible bond you had with her. You saw her die, and come back. She sent you to hell herself, and saw you come back. You have saved each other's lives more times than I can count. Obsession does not begin to describe what you had for that girl. If your soul made you stop doing evil, she is what made you start fighting it.

I am telling you these things, though it pains me to admit any of them. I'm a Watcher. I am supposed to encourage her to drive a stake through your heart, not dream about you nightly. Furthermore, I am more than a little terrified of you, after having experienced your expertise at torture while you were without your soul. Yet here I am...

Listen to me, Angel, and listen well. I love Buffy more than I can describe, and I have seen her love for you reduce her to this condition many times before. Now, there is something I need you to do, both for me and for her." He paused, and if Angel had breath, he would have been holding it.

"Willow would probably slap me for saying this, but I am saying it nonetheless. Conceal your feelings. Please, for all of our sakes."

"Conceal my feelings?" Angel's face was full of confusion. "I'm not sure I..."

"Angel, please. We all know that you're head over heels for Willow. It isn't your fault, and it isn't her fault, but every time you look at her, it breaks Buffy's heart all over again. I know all too well how capable you are of keeping everything to yourself. The words 'cryptic', 'mysterious', 'disappearing' have been paired with you since the first time Buffy met you. Now is definitely not the time to give them up."

"Why do you say that I'm in love with Willow?"

"Mostly because we all have the sense of sight. Angel, I am being painfully blunt here, and I apologize. However, I readily admit that I am more worried about Buffy's well-being than your romantic sensibilities at the moment. Cover it up. When you look at Willow, don't let your eyes glow with admiration. Try not to follow her every move. Keep your face an impassive mask, at least when Buffy is present. You see, she managed to deal with you when you were evil because she disassociated you from Angelus. She lived through your hatred, but I'm not sure if she can take your indifference.

I can't ask you to love her. I am asking you not to break her again."

Giles headed for the library doors. "Now, I'm going to get her some chocolate. It won't fix anything, but the seratonin will hopefully soothe the pain."

Angel sat mutely as Giles left. He hadn't realized he had been so obvious, mostly because he hadn't realized he was in love with her. But Giles was right.

It had all happened so suddenly, but it was true. Only a few days after meeting her, he was totally and completely in love with her, with this girl who trusted him and welcomed him into her life. Such treatment would warm the heart of anyone, but especially him. He had been alone and outcast for a century, and to suddenly find himself cherished by a lovely young woman left him with few choices other than adoring her. He had convinced himself that any human who realized what he was would loathe him automatically, recoiling from his unnaturalness. Yet here she was, sweet and fiery and perfect, and she surrounded him with her loveliness.

Of course, now there was the added factor that he was allegedly soulmates with her best friend. It wasn't that Buffy wasn't beautiful and enticing, but he was saturated with Willow, and he could hardly look objectively at another female. He felt horrible about the pain he was causing the Slayer, but he couldn't even see her through the spell that Willow had cast over him. (Not literally, of course.)

But Giles was right. He needed to keep it to himself. He needed to ease back into the life that he had never dreamed he would have, because he couldn't possibly give it up at this point.

He couldn't give her up. So it was time to pretend.

Part Fifteen

Willow sat in the stacks, clutching onto a bookcase for dear life.

'Can't be happening, nope, I won't let it be happening. Isn't happening.'

But if it wasn't happening, then why did everyone seem so sure that it was?

She had seen the look on Buffy's face.

"What am I going to do?" she whispered to the sympathetic, if mute, books.

He finally looked up at her, and she was taken aback by his eyes. They were completely hooded, revealing no emotion whatsoever.

Just like they used to be.

"Yeah, she's still in there," he answered, immediately looking down at his book.

"Oh. Okay. I'm just going to go, talk to her. Yes." Willow turned and slowly made her way across to the office. Their little exchange seemed to prove how right she had been. Angel was completely shut away from her. He hadn't even seemed friendly, let alone madly in love. She knew he couldn't be in love with her. It was a ludicrous idea.

So why did she feel like weeping?

Buffy made a noise that was equal parts laugh and choked sob as she jumped out of her chair to hug Willow tightly. "Oh, Willow, you don't know how much I missed you. I mean, I missed any female contact at all, but most especially you."

Willow hugged her back, relieved that Buffy wasn't angry with her. "You know, Buffy, Angel isn't in love with me."

At that, Buffy did laugh. "Oh, Willow, please."

"No, really. I'm sure of it."

"You can't be-"

"No, I am. Just now, I was looking for it, and there's no way he's in love wi-"

"No, You. Can't. Be." Buffy wasn't laughing any more, and she emphasized each word. Her eyes were already bright with fresh tears.

"Willow, you don't seem to understand. Angel HAS to be in love with you."

Willow looked at her in complete confusion. "What?"

"See, he has to be in love with you, Willow. That's the only thing that's keeping me sane right now."

"But why-"

"He isn't in love with me, Willow." The tears were flowing now, and she lowered her ragged voice to a whisper. "Angel isn't in love with me."

She shook her head, trying to clear away the emotions that denied her the ability to speak. "But, Willow, don't you see? If Angel is in love with you, then I can maybe get through it. Because then, he isn't just not in love with me. He's not in love with me for a reason.

I mean, if he forgot the past three years, and he saw me, and didn't love me at first sight and that was all, then that just might kill me.

But if the reason he doesn't love me is because his heart is already yours, then everything I had with him isn't trivialized.

If he had to fall in love with someone other than me, then I'm glad it's you, Willow."

Willow felt her own tears spill over, but she kept her eyes on Buffy's face.

"I mean, I can't really blame him. Look at you. You're just so very Willow. Hey, I'm in love with you, so I can hardly begrudge him that right.

So you see, he has to be in love with you. If he isn't, like you claim, then I won't know what to do." Buffy was still shaking, but she was mfinally approaching calm. She curled up in the chair once more.

"Look, Willow, don't let his brooding make you think he doesn't love you. Don't let anything make you think he doesn't love you. Wastes time."

Willow shook her head in denial. "Buffy, you can't possibly give me relationship advice regarding Angel. You just can't."

"But I just did, so I guess I can. C'mon, Wills. I can't possibly see him with anyone but you, if he can't be with me. And since I'm the one with the broken heart, I get to be bossy.

Love him back. Love him like only you can, so that it makes his head spin." She sniffed and was silent. And Willow could only stare in reply.

Angel looked at him silently, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay, now you're the 'share-nothing' guy again. Fine, whatever. I can make enough conversation for the two of us. It's one of my many skills-talking about non-topics indefinitely."

'Non-topics?' Angel thought.

"Or, wait, actually. There is a topic, now that I think about it."

Angel closed his eyes in apprehension.

"Willow. What is up with that, man? Why do you get all of my women? I mean, that's the reason I couldn't ever stand you. Maybe I need to learn how to brood. Do you actually have to think about stuff, or is it enough to _look_ like you're thinking?"

It was against all his instincts as a pensive, suave creature of the night, but Angel couldn't help it.

He snorted.

Part Sixteen

Willow peeked out from Giles's office. Angel and Xander were sitting across from each other, and from the look on Angel's face, Xander was 'being nice to him'.

She walked over, fearing what she would (or wouldn't) see in Angel's eyes, barely registering what Xander was saying.

"...and I understand that vampires can't go out in the sun, and normally that would mean that they all stay pretty pale. But what about tanning beds? They aren't the sun, technically, but they have the same effect.

So really, couldn't a vampire in theory maintain a sun-kissed look, as impossible as it would be to come about it naturally? Or would it be one of those vampire healing deals, where the body recognizes a tan as harm to the skin, and it would repair itself? Not that I'm really worriedabout becoming a vampire or maintaining my tan, I just wonder. I'd ask about self-tanning lotion, but like I said to Amy, Cordy pretty much gave me as much information on that topic as I ever hope to forget. Oh, hey Wills. I was just filling the awkward silence that Angel seems desperate to maintain. Is Buffy feeling better?"

Willow looked at him in confusion, blinking occasionally. The confusion she was feeling was more extreme than she had ever experienced. She was confused by so many things: everyone's belief that Angel was in love with her, Angel's new cold attitude towards her, Buffy's insistence that she wouldn't be able to go on if Angel wasn't in love with Willow, Xander's discussion of vampire tanning.

"I don't know, Xander. I think it all depends," she filled in the rest of the sentence silently, 'On whether or not Angel keeps up this new cold shoulder thing. Of course, his shoulder is usually cold. But big. So big. Like the rest of him...are these thoughts in my head?' She rambled in her mind, oblivious to the stares of the two occupants of the table. "Willow? You still here?" Xander asked.

She jerked herself out of her reverie. "Oh. Yes. Here, is where I am. But not for much longer, because I have to go get something. From the mansion. Angel, could you walk me there?"

He looked up at her, and her heart sank as she saw no emotion whatsoever in his formerly lively eyes.

She had no idea, however, how much effort he was putting into hiding the emotions he was feeling. How much he wanted to apologize for the pain he was causing her and her friends, just because he couldn't remember a thing. How much he longed to feel her hair between his fingers again, to hold her in his arms once more.

How much he loved her.

No matter what his eyes no longer said.

Just because they think it's true, that's no excuse to believe them!'

Still silent.

"I should be asking you that."

"Probably not a good idea," she grimaced.

"C'mon, tell me, vent," he urged.

She looked at him for a moment. "Okay, but you asked. I was pretty crappy to begin with, considering my demoralizing, humiliating, cold and really hungry stay in England. Add to that the ever so lovely joy that is jet lag. Add to that the fact that not only does Angel have amnesia, he's in love with my best friend. You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say it was my birthday. Usually the ubercrap tends to cluster around that time of year."

She sat in the chair that Angel had vacated. The spot was not, of course, warm.

"Buffy, is it bad? Knowing that he's in love with her?"

She thought for a minute, and for the first time that night, the thought didn't make the ever present tears spring to her eyes. "Having him not love me is bad. It's the kind of bad that language isn't equipped to deal with, actually. But Angel loving Willow..." she paused, and slowly let a smile creep across her face. "No, that's not bad. Actually, it's not bad at all. I mean, if the two ladies he's fallen for have been me and Willow, then that's pretty much a compliment, right? If I was a guy, I'd be in love with her. You are. Oz is. Why not Angel? Hey, add Giles, you've got the complete set."

Xander grinned. "Watch it, Buff. You're close to making a joke, and that doesn't jibe with your evil day."

She rolled her eyes. "Screw evil."

"I thought evil is the one that screwed you, and now that's just a bad thought..."

"Yeah, who needs a boyfriend when I have a committed relationship with evil? Ugh. Perhaps the Hellmouth actually has a crush on me, and tries to show it's affection by attacking my life at regular intervals."

"That's it!" Xander jumped in. "How else would a Hellmouth woo a girl? It can't exactly send flowers."

"Another thing I don't want to hear about."

"What, flowers?" Xander asked perplexedly.

"Yes. Flowers, like birthdays, are always horrible. When he was evil, Angel sent me stalker-type flowers. When my dad cancelled on our birthday plans, he sent flowers. No more flowers. Flowers equal bad. Chocolate though, has never harmed me." She twisted in her seat and glowered at the spot on the floor she had pounded so viciously earlier. "Don't get any ideas, buddy! I like my chocolate evil-free!" She turned back to Xander. "Speaking of, where's Giles? He said he would bring some for me."

Xander suddenly shot out of his seat. "Hold that thought." He ran around to the circulation desk and began burrowing in its depths. A moment later, he emerged triumphantly clutching a Hershey bar. "Research session leftover."

He walked over to Buffy, kneeling in mock reverence as he held out the chocolate bar like Excalibur. "Milady," he intoned, "Let the healing begin."

Part Seventeen

Angel was rapidly coming to a conclusion. He hated Giles. No, he didn't really, but he hated hiding his feelings from Willow. He had never been in love before, well, that he could remember, but the point was, he wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to take her in his arms and never let her go. He hadn't even realized that he was in love with her until Giles pointed it out, but the Watcher had effectually prevented any sort of declaration in the same breath.

So instead of getting down on bended knee, he was quietly banging his head against a wall while she got her things from another room in the mansion. It didn't hurt, it was just something to do to keep from going crazy. Of course, not really knowing the mansion layout very well, he wasn't aware that the wall he had chosen was the only thing separating him from the one person constantly in his thoughts...

"Willow, I didn't hear you-- how long have you been standing there?"

She had to laugh at that, but there was concern in her eyes as she put a hand on his arm. "Angel, is something wrong? Because, you know, playing battering ram isn't really normal behavior."

'Oh, don't touch me,' he mentally pleaded. 'It sends sparks up my arm and then it's so hard to think...'

Of course, the fact that he wished she would stop didn't mean it wasn't unpleasant when she did.

"No, nothing's wrong. Just, you know, rough day."

She nodded slowly. "Okay. I'm going to go finish what I was doing. If you need me for anything, just call."

'If I need you?' he thought. 'If only you knew how much I do.'

That was when the phone rang.

Buffy and Xander's eyes grew wide as Giles unloaded his purchases. He had managed to find a dazzling array of every chocolate Buffy could have desired. There was everything from M+M's to Godiva, from devil's food cake to imported Swiss chocolate. There was even a jar of Dove hot fudge sauce, complete with spoon.

"Oh, Giles," Buffy breathed. "I'm speechless."

"Your mouth shouldn't be used for talking right now anyway, Buffy," Xander grinned.

In response, she chose a truffle from the gold wrapped Godiva box. After taking a bite, she turned to Giles. "You know what is so weird about this whole thing?"

"Godiva spelled backwards is Avidog?"

She looked at Xander for a long moment, neither blinking nor chewing. Returning to Giles, she continued. "Willow seems convinced that Angel isn't in love with her."

Giles looked away as he nodded. "Yes, well, he isn't the easiest person to read..."

Buffy snorted. "For you, maybe. If there's one thing that Angel reveals, it's who he's in love with. I guess it's just Willow's disbelief that he could have feelings for her. I mean, it's perfectly obvious."

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, yes, perhaps." He stood and walked towards the circulation desk, but Buffy's voice stopped him cold.

"Giles, what do you know?"

"What do you mean?"

"Giles, don't lie to me. You're failing miserably at concealing things from me, and lying is harder. Did you-- do something?"

He sighed and took off his glasses. "I merely suggested that Angel be a little less...obvious in his affection. For your sake," he ended rather lamely.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Giles, do you know what you just did? Good gracious, it's a miracle he's even speaking to her after that. Well, I guess it's up to me to save the day."

"Isn't that kind of a step down from saving the world?" Xander asked.

"I mean, saving the world is pretty big. Isn't it regressing to just save one day?"

"You keep thinking about that one, Xand. Giles, I need your phone."

"Hello?"

"Hi, Angel, it's Buffy. How are you?"

"Fine, fine." He began to panic. What if she was going to try and make him love her again? He wasn't sure he could-

"Angel, is Willow there?"

Oh good. She just wanted to talk to Willow. "Let me get her for you-"

"No, I want to talk to you."

Dang.

"Look, Angel, Giles told me what he told you earlier. About hiding your love for Willow."

Hellfire and damnation.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you to completely forget everything he said, he meant well but it was badly done. The chocolate was excellently done, but the advice, bad."

What? Chocolate?

"So, Angel, not that it's my business, but I figure our sudden amnesia induced breakup makes your business at least partially my business, especially as it concerns my best friend. Anyway, did you kiss her yet?"

Angel froze. "What did you say?"

"Guess that's a big no. Look, don't waste any more time. We wasted a lot of time when we were together, so I have no patience for it anymore. Here's your job: walk over to her, grab her and kiss her till she can't walk straight. Meanwhile, I have more chocolate to eat. See ya."

"Wait-" he cried, but she had already hung up.

Part Eighteen

Angel looked in disbelief at the phone he still held in his hand. Had Buffy honestly said what he thought she had said?

He must have looked upset, because Willow walked over to him. "Angel, what's wrong? Who was that? Is there evil brewing? Are you okay?"

He stared at her silently for a moment. Then, he gingerly replaced the phone in its cradle. "That was Buffy," he said quietly.

Willow paled. "Really? What did she have to say?" She was trying to look disinterested. She was trying very hard, but she didn't have Angel's acting ability, and her eyes conveyed her emotions wordlessly.

'She looks frightened,' Angel thought. 'But why would she be frightened?'

"Do you think you're going to fall in love with her again?" she asked suddenly.

That was about the time that Angel realized he wasn't the only person who had fallen in love, and suddenly, concealing his emotions became an impossibility as he laughed out loud.

"Fall in love with her again? Willow, haven't you been paying attention?" He moved towards her, and for a moment Willow thought she could practically see him as he had been in the past-- sensual and confident and utterly charming.

"I may have lived a long time, sweeting, but even I haven't learned how to love two people at once." His arms slowly slid around her trembling waist. His hands may have been cool, but they felt like fire to her as they clasped the small of her back.

"Two...at...once?" Willow whispered.

"Can't be done," he replied, determined to have the final word before they ended the conversation. Of course, it wasn't that they stopped communicating. It was more that they stopped using words.

As his lips first brushed hers ever so softly, the thought flashed through her mind that there was no way he could be comparing her to Buffy, the love of his life who he couldn't remember. Then all thoughts fled as her brain gave up in its effort to shout above the clamor of the rest of her body.

The kiss was begun with a sweetness that rivalled that of the chocolate being consumed back at the library. Something about finally requited love will always have that effect, but it was compounded for Willow and Angel due to their long and trying day of denial. Angel would always remember his very first taste of her mouth, and Willow her delight in being tasted.

There is probably no one circumstance that changed the kiss from tender to passionate. It was more likely a heady combination of different factors. Part was certainly Willow's delicate hands making their way up Angel's chest, eventually reaching around to curl in the hair at the nape of his neck. Another part had to be Angel unconsciously lifting Willow off the ground in his embrace.

Then there was that true love thing. It was certainly involved in the transition.

The point is, that neither of them had ever needed someone else so much.

"I second your 'oof'," Xander muttered.

"Indeed." Giles replied. "I don't think I'll ever move again," he said a moment later.

"You know, I think I can actually hear my arteries clogging," Buffy said conversationally.

"Nice image, Buff," Xander rolled his eyes.

"Still, it was good chocolate. Very good chocolate. The sort of chocolate dreams are made of."

Xander finally managed to stand, with great effort. "Hoo boy." He looked around the library, his eyes landing on an object underneath a chair.

"Uh-oh," he said.

"What? Not evil, I hope. The only way I could vanquish evil at this point would be by sitting on it," Buffy reflected.

"No, not evil. But Willow left her purse here."

"So?"

"So she might need it."

"Xander, Willow is at the mansion with Angel. She isn't going to need her purse."

"But what if she needs her wallet?"

"She will not be shopping tonight, if Angel paid any attention to me."

Giles frowned at that remark. "Paid any attention to you?"

"Well, what about her keys? So she can get inside her house?" Xander insisted.

"Xander..."

"I could drop it off at the mansion. It's no problem."

"No, it is a problem, which is why you will give me the purse and I will give it to Willow tomorrow."

"But...keys..." Xander repeated.

Buffy sighed in exasperation. "Look, if there's one thing Angel can do, it's keep a girl occupied. Just give me the purse."

"Fine. I'll just call her to tell her we found it," Xander sighed.

"NO!" Buffy scrambled out of her chair to prevent Xander from touching the phone. "Don't interrupt them!"

Giles cleared his throat. "Buffy, am I to understand that you will be living vicariously through Willow from now on, and will therefore be doing everything in your power to further her relationship with Angel, in light of the fact that your own relationship with him has ended? Am I to further understand that you are hereby making it your duty to spare their relationship of all the difficulties you yourself experienced with Angel?"

"Yup," she replied.

Giles stood up purposefully, remaining silent for a full ten seconds.

"Very good." With that, he began to pick up the remnants of their chocolate banquet.

Part Nineteen

It's a fundamental part of aging that people look for love, to search for that missing piece. It's taken for granted that we all feel it, that lacking, that void we want so desperately to fill. It's a curious and sometimes easily dismissed ache, but it never lets itself be forgotten for long.

A song can remind us, or a poem. A joke that we have no one to share with, a kiss between strangers we secretly envy. A rainstorm so beautiful and full of power that we actually look around for someone to smile at, only to find ourselves alone. A windy night can trigger the familiar longing, its howling shaking the eaves of an almost empty house, and a silent bed within holds only one body, a body that would love to be warmed by the heat of another but can only clutch at a lumpy pillow that is a poor substitute for a companion.

But once you've found it? Well, there's another chapter entirely. It's a warmth and a smile that always lurks in the corners of a well-kissed mouth. It's the bewildered joy of knowing beyond reason that this is the end of the search. It's occasionally pity for the masses still wandering unanchored, but mostly, it's inexpressible contentment.

The search is definitely trial by fire, but using that expression is practically a pun in this instance. Living for two and a half centuries only to endure a couple more in a dimension of hell seems, somehow, a high price to pay. Then again, perhaps not. After all, he would probably have died lying in a whore's flea infested bed or an ignominious gutter if he had only had a normal lifespan. However long he had to wait, who's to say whether or not it was worth it? Worth finding someone who with the ability to fill him to overflowing.

(Twice, technically, but only once in remembrance.)

The prerogative to put a price on her lush green gaze is his alone. And if he chooses to forget his impossible wait while he concentrates on counting each fiery strand that seems to make a statement about her personality, well, perhaps it would be no more than voyeurism to stay and criticize.

**

Willow's mind was in a daze, her heart was in rapture and her body was in his lap.

Altogether, not a bad situation.

"Angel?" she asked.

"Mmmm?" he replied, his name on her lips almost as sweet as his mouth.

"How are we going to explain this new...situation to the others?"

At that, he couldn't help but laugh. And if he consciously deepened his laugh so that she could feel it all the way down to her delicate toes, then no one but he has any right to comment on the fact.

"Willow, I think they know."

"What do you mean? I know they had an idea..."

"Well, it's one of the side-effects of me following Buffy's orders..." At his words, Willow twisted to look at him in confusion.

"Her orders?"

"When she called, she told me to ignore Giles and kiss you properly."

Willow frowned. "Okay. Now I have two questions. Ignore Giles?"

"He told me I shouldn't be so obvious about loving you, for Buffy's sake," Angel explained.

"Uh-huh. Number Two: You kissed me because Buffy told you to?" Her eyes, liquid and gentle only moments before, managed to look rather intimidating. Angel hastened to explain.

"I kissed you because I've been dying to since the day I woke up and found you sleeping beside me. The only thing Buffy influenced was the timing."

Her eyes still held some degree of doubt, a doubt which he couldn't bear to see. "Willow, I promise you, it was merely a matter of Buffy undoing Giles's mistake."

Willow looked at him for a moment, when a thought occurred to her that made her giggle. "Oh, Angel, you..." she broke off in a laugh again.

"I what?" he prompted.

"You're so good at being reassuring and sincere. I was just realizing what a rake you must have been." She continued to laugh, and he frowned, somewhat nettled.

"You're laughing because you think I was a rake?" The truth of her guess made it no less uncomfortable.

"Oh, I know you're not now. It's just-- you always know what to say to make a girl feel exactly how you want her to feel. It's a rakish quality." Upon seeing that he was missing the humor entirely, she managed to quell her laughs. "Okay, I'm sorry, it's not rakish, it's sensitive and charming. There, is that better?" The twinkle in her eye not only proved that she was certainly not sorry, but that she had her own share of irresistible charm. Angel chose not to dignify her impertinent question with an answer. Rather, he chose to prevent her from speaking any more for a long, long time.

Part Twenty

The next morning, as Willow entered the library, she was forced to endure the whistles and cheers of her grinning friends. Blushing furiously, she sat down in one of the library chairs and tried to look inconspicuous.

"Well, well," Xander smirked. "You mean you managed to make it to school today? Angel must not be as...skilled as we all thought."

"Xander!" Willow exclaimed.

"Look at the bags under her eyes, Xand," Buffy added evilly. "Does it look like she got much sleep?"

"Why is this conversation occurring?" Willow asked desperately. "Is it anyone's business?"

"Yes," Xander responded immediately.

"Oh, Willow, remember my relationship with Angel? Everyone not only knew about all the intimate details of our relationship, but brought them up as often as possible. Actually, I think it was Mr. Harris who derived the most joy from mentioning them again and again." She gave him the evil eye while he shrugged innocently.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"How many times did you forbid me to 'give him a happy', or 'get pelvic' with Angel?"

"Well, I guess that's Willow's department now."

"Xander! Angel and I did NOT sleep together!" Willow hissed.

Perhaps it was the Hellmouth's twisted sense of humor, or perhaps it was simply coincidence. Of course, the Slayer didn't believe in coincidence, so it was more likely the first. In any case, Giles and Whistler came out of the office just in time to hear Willow's announcement. Buffy couldn't do anything but laugh helplessly as Willow dropped her head to the table in embarrassment. "I used to think I had friends..." her muffled voice came from somewhere in the crook of her arm.

Giles rolled his eyes as Buffy and Xander dissolved into giggles. Whistler, however, was more direct. "Why not?"

Xander snorted at his question, while Buffy patted him on the back as he tried to find his misplaced breath. Willow slowly raised her head to give Whistler a look that consisted of horror, humiliation and more than a little incredulity. "What do you mean, why not?"

"Yeah, what exactly do you mean? I seem to remember you lecturing me about making Angel lose his soul, telling me that 'nobody saw me coming'," Buffy pointed out.

It's entirely possible that Xander made some comment along the lines of 'I bet Angel did', but the punch Buffy gave his still sore arm is one of the reasons he will never admit to it. Regardless, most of the room's inhabitants were focused on Whistler as he shook his head wearily. "I don't believe this. Communication is key, here. But no one ever listens, or even pretends to. You think Angel's curse was a pain? Try living with the one I got stuck with."

"That would be?" Buffy prompted.

"Nobody understands me. I told Angel that, the night I met him. So, that would mean even he doesn't remember. Anyway, are you telling me nobody told you about the curse?"

"Anyone else wanna join me in a duh?" Xander asked. "Hello, curse turned our lives into living hell, I think we know about it."

"Thanks, kid. Of course, since that wasn't what I was asking, let's try again. No one has told you about the current state of the curse?" Off everyone's blank looks, Whistler deduced that they had not heard anything new. "Great. Just fantastic. Well, let's see if I can boil it down for you. The First brought Angel back from Hell, but you have to know about that, right? Right. Okay. So, The First was pulling that whole Ebenezer Scrooge thing on him, but it wasn't working because he really loved Buffy too much to hurt her. So he's fighting all the influence of this incredibly strong power of evil, and let me tell you, when that happens, someone's bound to take notice. I can't explain much about where I come from or whose orders I follow, but it's the same sort of folks that made me find Angel the first time, three years ago. Well, my superiors are not, to put it lightly, overly fond of The First. They see this poor vamp with a soul holding his own against big bad evil, they decide he's gonna get another shot at redemption. Before you know it, Sunnydale is having it's first blizzard ever. But that's not all."

"It's not?" Buffy asked in surprise.

"No. Snow may have saved his life, but it wouldn't do him much good in the long run. It was more of a snow/soul double feature."

"Soul?" Willow echoed.

"Oh yeah. That tortured humanity is stuck to him with spiritual superglue. Are you sure no one told you? I swear, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." Muttering about the incompetency of bureaucracy, Whistler picked up his jacket. He put his hand on Buffy's shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Sorry, kiddo. I knew how much it would have meant to you. That's why I tried to get you the message."

Rousing herself from her daze, Buffy tried to muster a smile. "No, it's okay. It would be nice to blame you, but not really fair. Although you should probably get some distance between us before I change my mind."

"Will do. And you should know-- Angel's not the only one they've noticed. You never let anything stop you either, and that's something they respect."

"If we ignore the three months when I was missing in action?" she asked ruefully.

"You were still fighting demons. They just happened to be inside you, that's all. And you still won." With a surprisingly gentle smile, he placed his hat on his head. "Keep up the good work, all of you. Maybe I'll come back for a visit sometime." As he reached the library doors, he turned for one moment. "As for you, Willow..." he stared at her for a moment, making her extremely uncomfortable.

"Yes?" she asked finally.

"You're lucky." With a final grin, Whistler exited the library. No one had the chance to discuss what he had said as the bell rang and they all filed out to get to class.

"Buffy," he interrupted her softly. "You don't need to."

Slowly the smile faded, and her eyes filled with tears. Pulling her into a hug, Xander didn't say anything as he rubbed her back.

"He- he didn't-"

"I know. I'm sorry."

She gulped, trying to stop crying. "I always..."

"You did."

Buffy gave a watery chuckle into the crook of his neck. "You sound like Oz."

"Okay." She could hear the smile in his voice, and she clutched at him tightly.

"Thank you, Xander."

"One of these days, Buffy, you're going to be happy because you really are happy. You won't have to pretend for your friends or your mom or your sanity. You'll just be happy. Of course, a good part of it will be the joy of my company, but you'll be happy."

Pulling away, she wiped her streaming eyes. "I hope so."

"In fact, we'll all be happy. And we'll have souls aplenty."

"Sounds like...soup or something," Buffy commented.

"Eww, demon soup, maybe. And speaking of food, how about I make you eat some? C'mon girl, can't have you wasting away to nothing."

"After the amount of chocolate delicacies I consumed last night, I don't think that will be a problem. Hey, I had a dream about chocolate last night. At first it was like Willy Wonka's factory, but then there were all these vampires, but they didn't want any blood. They just kept singing that Oompa Loompa song, and then one of the Oompa Loompas came over and it was Snyder, and he started kicking my shins..." Together, they headed inside.

Part Twenty-one

Buffy sat in her chair, every one of her mystically enhanced muscles completely tense. Her pulse was racing, and every movement she made was jerky and unnatural.

"Buff?"

She looked at Xander, who was sitting in the chair beside her. "You gonna make it?" he asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. Looking at him helplessly, she shrugged.

He reached out and took hold of her hand. She crushed his larger hand in her grip, and although he winced, he didn't say anything. He just held on, giving her a tangible reminder that she was not alone, that she could have as much support as she needed. Which, he knew was going to be quite a lot.

The sun was still setting, and soon they would be arriving at the library...

She closed her eyes, willing the memories away. Willing herself to forget. Willing herself to be strong enough not to break down.

Xander's voice called her out of her reverie. "Hey, Buffy? Can I ask you a question?"

She nodded, grateful for the distraction.

"Do you remember a time when you didn't love Angel?"

She was taken aback by the question. She was crushed by the question.

She thought about the question.

"I remember. I remember being shallow and frivolous and never serious about anything. Even the things that scared me had to treated lightly- it was the only way I knew how to deal."

"I know the feeling."

She was startled at Xander's words, but comprehension dawned, and a smile began building in the corners of her mouth. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you don't admit to being scared of something, there's a chance it might not-"

"Might not be able to hurt you," she finished.

"So it was only after Angel came that you started allowing yourself to be serious?"

She shook her head vaguely. "It wasn't that, exactly. I mean, he was a part of it- he influenced it. He was this grave presence, which added to it, but my life was changing in other ways, too."

"Would you rather have Angel be in hell than have him not love you?"

She looked at him in shock. "Of course not."

That was when Willow came in, Angel right behind.

She nodded as she looked into his smiling eyes.

"Chance number two," he whispered.

She gave his hand another squeeze, not so tight as it was grateful. Then she let go and stood up. She looked at Willow, whose worry and incredible desire not to harm was written all over her expressive face.

"Will, you would not believe Giles. He was freaking out over this book- not even a demon book, okay? Anyway, freaking out because I misshelved this book. I read the call number wrong- and since he makes the labels, is that my fault? And so I put the book all of two shelves away from where it should be, and he almost has a heart attack. He kept ranting about the horrors of misshelved books- they're like these lost and abandoned orphans, wandering through the stacks, looking for their proper place. Even those that seek them are powerless, etc. It would have been extremely moving, only he was worried about a book that was not lost." She made a face at the librarian, who just smiled.

"Well, Buffy, you know how he loves his books."

"Yes- he loves reading them and finding out new ways for me to die. And when he doesn't have a book foretelling doom, he gets bored and buys a new one. Like when Angel brought him the Codex. Or those scrolls he had flown in from Belgium."

She rambled on, her tone growing more natural with every sentence. Xander's reassuring grin had its intended effect on Willow, who brought Angel further into the library. "So, what's on the itinerary for tonight?" she asked, settling into a chair across from the slayer.

"I think you're all going to try and figure out the extent of my emotional damage, and we're also going to be cross referencing. I'm sure Giles mentioned cross referencing."

Willow blinked. "Oh. Sounds good."

He shrugged. "No problem."

They were standing on his front porch. Even Xander's masculine sensibilities couldn't argue with his finely honed sense of self preservation, which is why Buffy had walked him home instead of vice versa.

"Just a few weeks ago, everything was so different. Before Angel forgot-" her strength broke there, and she stopped, drawing on deep reserves of control.

"I remember when Angel and I were arguing about his plan to sacrifice himself- you came in and wanted to ask us something. What were you doing that night, Xan? You weren't with us- it's only now that I realize I never knew what you were up to. Willow said she saw you on Main Street, and Giles talked to you in the graveyard."

He shook his head, a secret smile gracing his lips. "Sometime I'll tell you. Sometime that isn't now."

She nodded. "Okay."

She was about to walk away, when he stopped her. "Do you still feel like you belong to him?"

"Of course. The Slayer is a belongs to everyone- like public property."

"And Buffy?"

A long pause in the darkness, the sounds of night and the laughing sparkle of stars filtering around them as she searched for words.

"The Angel that I knew was devoted to me from the moment he saw me. I basked in that devotion for a long time. Now it's gone, and it's wrenching, but it makes me realize one other thing."

"What's that?"

"There's one other person who has been devoted to me ever since I first came to Sunnydale. I met him before I met Angel, actually. He asked if he could have me- but he never got the chance to find out."

"Is he going to?"

Buffy smiled wide and sweet, and with a whispered goodnight that spoke of possibility, she walked off into the dangerous darkness.

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