Part Thirteen

Angel felt...not really light headed. But light-hearted was definitely the right word, even if taken literally. Rather.... light-souled seemed to fit, as he felt it floating gently inside him, not heavy at all. The demon had raged and screamed and clawed within, and cursed and sneered without, as the new spell was cast, and his soul returned to its proper place. Not that Angelus was removed or dead, but truly trapped. Relegated to the darkest recesses of Angel's mind, where his most brooding thoughts and deepest depressions hid, the demon wasn't coming out anytime soon. *Hopefully never again.* "Did it work?" he asked, trying not to sound over eager. 

At his words, the tension around him broke, and the women burst into smiles. 

"Thank goodness you're you again," Willow grinned. "At least we know you're ensouled." 

"But is he permanent?" Anya asked.

Tara frowned for a moment, clearly concentrating on some spell. Angel could feel the hum of its magic around him. Then she smiled. "It worked!" 

Anya set down her holy water. "So you mean he won't kill us if he has sex now?" 

Willow actually chuckled. "He's harmless. At least, he is to people he likes." 

Angel felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his soul. In all reality, it had. He couldn't harm his friends anymore. He wasn't going to turn into Angelus and maim, kill, rape, destroy... Now, he was just Angel. Not redemption, but not too bad either! He might even have a chance to... no. He wouldn't let himself believe that he and Buffy might have sexual relations of any kind in the near future. Her second ex-boyfriend had been turned, then died at her hand, leaving her the mother of infant twins, belonging to her first ex, who felt honored simply to be her friend now. Things were too complicated. As much as he wanted to bet that if he'd gone to her right then and tackled her on the floor, she wouldn't have resisted, but that would ruin any chance they had to do things *right.* 

Slowly, he became aware that the chains that held him were beginning to chafe his hands and ankles. "Ummm, someone want to let me up?" 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Cordelia asked, returning at last. Her face was not as happy as those around her, and Angel had to wonder why one of his closest friends looked so somber at one of his happiest moments. "I think you need to talk to Buffy." 

Buffy. Well of course he did, she'd be thrilled to hear that his soul was.... Cordelia's face stopped his thoughts. "What...what did I do?" He could slightly remember what had happened. Perhaps the suppression of the demon had partially blocked some of his Angelus memories. They were there, but they were vague.

"Not you," Cordelia corrected him. "Angelus. He told her about.... about the day that only you and Doyle knew about." 

*Only me and.... oh God no!* Buffy knew all about his day as a human, their day together. And it had been the demon that had told her first. Cordy had been right about his demon's brutal honesty. Buffy probably hated him now! Hopefully Cordy had explained about... "Cordelia, how do *you* know about that?" 

The brunette didn't look at all embarrassed at having spilled her secret. "Doyle felt that I should know. Looks like it was a good thing too, or Buffy might have staked you by now." 

"Let me up," he pleaded. "I have to talk to her." 

"Is someone going to explain all the vague cryptic-talk?" Anya asked. 

"That's up to Angel," Cordelia reached out and began to unhook him from the bed. "I've already said more than my share today." 

Angel sat up as the last chain came off, swinging his legs quickly over one side of the bed, and bounding to his feet. 

"Wait!" Willow stopped him before he could get out the door. "We need to talk first." 

"I'm sort of in a hurry, Willow." He stood on one foot, then the other. God he needed to get to Buffy *now!* The drive had never been so strong.

"No need to fidget!" Cordelia quipped. "Buffy's not going anywhere." 

The red head nodded. "You need to know what you can and can't do now that the rules have changed. Tara and I did some...well...predictions, calculations, whatever you want to call them... magically while figuring out the spell. And the change in your soul should mean some other changes." 

"Other changes besides the end of the happiness clause?" Angel turned around, giving the witches his full attention at last. "Like what?" 

Tara looked at an old notebook. "As far as we can tell, the longer the demon is permanently locked up, the less power it will exert over the physical body." 

"Meaning, you're still technically dead," Willow continued. "But not as limited dead. Things like, over time you should be able to maybe go out on cloudy days and not go poof. At least not immediately. Or you might be able to eat things other than blood and actually have them taste semi-normal and be...well, actually beneficial. And who knows what else might happen." 

Food. Sunlight. Sure it was only a maybe, but it was better than the *never* he had become used to hearing. Even if he hadn't received his redemption, he still had more of a chance than before. "Can I...can I  go now?" he asked the women who had him surrounded with their stares, even without blocking his path to the door. 

Cordelia laughed. "You have our permission. Buffy's waiting downstairs."

Angel ran down the stairs, not sure if he wanted to shout, whisper, or if he might not just take off and fly. He felt dizzy with freedom, anticipation, yet held down by the tiny voice in his head that murmured that Buffy may never forgive him for the words from Angelus' mouth. He stopped at the bottom, not really sure how to proceed. Peering around the corner of the stairs, walking slowly toward the kitchen, he could see her through the open back door. 

The sun had set while he'd been...demonic. It's last indirect rays brushed the blackening sky in the distance. Crickets were singing in the back yard. Buffy was seated on the edge of the porch, her tiny form hunched over in her come-near-me-and-I-may-have-to-tear-you-apart position. The Slayer was thinking, and obviously not about anything that made her particularly happy. 

Quietly, he slipped up behind her, stopping at the door. "Lovely evening." The words sounded trite and formal, even as they came out. Angel winced. 

Buffy didn't turn around, or comment on his choice of an opening line. "You were human, with a soul, and me, and everything we ever wanted. But you gave it all up." 

Angel moved forward and sat down beside her, not daring to meet her face. Instead, he looked down at his hands. "The Oracles said you would die. I couldn't do that to you." 

"I know all the details. Cordelia was very thorough." The ice in the Slayer's tone wasn't promising. It was nothing like the hot tempered outbreaks he was used to dealing with from her. 

Angel knew what she wanted to her, but he also knew what he needed to say. "I won't apologize for my decisions, Buffy. There was no way I was going to let anything happen to you just so I could be happy." 

"But what about–" 

"Let me finish," he cut her off as gently as he could. She glared at him, but said nothing more. "But I was wrong not to ask you before I did it. And I was wrong not to tell you before now. I've wanted to ever since I came to Sunnydale. I just always thought I would have more time to tell you." 

"Well, Angelus told me first. At least he was honest about it." 

Angel tried to pull up the demonic memory of the conversation that had occurred while his soul was out-to-lunch. He could if he tried hard enough, and slowly, his words returned to him. "Cordelia once told me that at least Angelus was honest with people. She was right. I'm not very good about being open. But you know that what he said.... I don't think of it that way at all. What we shared was amazing, and I'll never forget it." Even though, as he had known she would, Buffy had. 

When she finally met his eyes, hers were wet with brimming tears. "I wish I could remember. I have dreams, sometimes. Of you and me, in your bed, doing all the things Angelus described. But they're brighter, and clearer than any of my memories, and yet softer than dreams. I thought I must be crazy to dream of you, or that perhaps it was my mind overlaying you and Riley in the twisted way dreams mix and match things." 

"You're not crazy." Angel didn't dare touch her yet. She looked as though if he made one false move, one wrong word, she would bolt. "I am. For not at least telling you the truth when I told you about my possible redemption." 

"Angel..." Buffy paused. The silence dragged out as he waiting for her to say what she was going to...anything at all. "Do you want me?" 

Not do you *love* me, but *want.* Angel wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. He loved her with all his heart, and all that his now permanent soul could possibly hold. Want. He wanted her too, with an animal lust that growled within him, not all demon, but very much that of a man's need for woman. The savage part of him that wanted to rip her clothes off and mate with her like a pair of wild horses, and yet also wanted to take her gently and couple with the fiery passion, yet gentle carefulness, of their first meeting. 

But that wasn't the want she meant. Did he want her 24/7, with her slaying and her school work, and her children, and her not-too-supportive-of-him mother. Did he want her hot temper, sometime immature selfishness, occasional desperate neediness… Of course he did. He wanted everything that made her Buffy. "Yes," he said with honesty. "I want you. Exactly as you are."

Angel hadn't been sure what response he expected, but what he got was definitely *not* it. Buffy didn't even look at him. Instead, she stood, and walked slowly back into the house. Shutting the door firmly behind her. *Did I say something wrong?* Maybe Buffy didn't want him. Even when she said she'd like to still have him around. Perhaps she just wanted a friend, and he had scared her off permanently with his 
admission. 

He never did *anything* right! *Great, I'm brooding again.* The night was young, perhaps there were still things lurking that needed a good stake. Time to clear his mind, and to let Buffy clear hers. And then maybe a drink at Willie's, if a little killing didn't help his mood.