E-Mail: Lshallot@juno.com
Rating: G
Summary: Willow and Buffy have to take care of Angel.
Feedback: Please write me feedback- I love it more than life itself.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. Even you. Grr Argh.
Note: Angel was unconscious for a few minutes in 'The Zeppo', so I'm saying this can happen as well.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
~Part: 1~
"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.
*****
Willow and Buffy watched over Angel in shifts, making sure he was never unattended for more than a moment. They fed him weak blood broth, trying to keep his strength up. Still, he didn't wake, and they were both getting quietly hysterical. One day, as Willow sat by his still figure, Buffy entered in a panic.
"Buffy, what's wro-" "I have to go away. For three weeks! Giles says the Council requires it, I don't have a choice, I can't get out of it. They wouldn't get the whole 'I'm nursing my vampire boyfriend excuse.' I can't help you, Will..."
"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.
**********
Willow didn't really mind her new nursing duties. She didn't have much to do, other than feeding Angel his blood occasionally. She would sit beside him on the bed for hours, surfing the net or reading. Sometimes she would even talk to his inert form, discussing every aspect of her life. He was a great listener, being comatose and all. He never interrupted or criticized, and he certainly never got bored. At one point, Willow realized that it was silly for her to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor next to Angel's bed. After all, the bed was so large, and really, the guy was unconscious. So she slept beside him, and they (in the sense of 'they' meaning 'she') talked long into the night. The fourth night of her stay was uneventful, as it should have been, and Willow went to bed early. She fell asleep, her breath just reaching Angel's cheek, her red hair glowing against the black silk sheets.
That was when Angel woke up.
********
"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: 2~
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.
******
Angel flinched back as her long eyelashes fluttered open. 'Look, her eyes are so beautiful-' he thought.
"Angel!" Willow squealed. He didn't know how to respond, but it didn't really matter. Willow leapt across the expanse of the bed to hug him tightly.
"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: 3~
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: 4~
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: 5~
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.
*************
When Angel arrived downstairs, he found Willow sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. She was wearing the fuzziest sweater he had ever seen, the color of forget-me-nots. 'Wow,' Angel thought, 'that color really brings out the green in her eyes. That sweater looks so soft! I wonder what it feels like. I wonder what she feels like. Wait- she's talking- I hope I didn't choose something really dumb to wear-'
"Well, gosh, Angel, if it weren't for the confused look in your eyes, I'd say you remembered everything. You always used to wear a leather jacket with a white undershirt. So, are you ready to go?" Angel nodded, then held up his hand.
"Sure, but just for the record- where exactly are we going?"
Willow shook her head. "Nope. We're just going to go, and hope that if I don't tell you everything, something will jog your memory. So let's go!" She linked elbows with him (sending electric shocks up his arm) and tugged him out into the dark night.
*************
Angel recognized not a single one of the landmarks leading the way to the library. As he and Willow stood in front of the school she asked for the hundredth time, "Know where we are?"
"Sunnydale High School," Angel answered. Willow's eyes grew large with excitement.
"You remember? This is completely wonderfu-"
"Willow? I read the sign," Angel interrupted.
"Oh. Right." Willow led him inside.
"The library."
"I suppose it's too much to hope for that you actually remember that, as opposed to just noticing that we're in a room whose sole purpose seems to be holding books?"
"Just a little too much," Angel smiled sadly at her.
Suddenly, they heard a voice behind them.
"Willow, Angel, hello." Turning, Angel saw a man dressed in rather ratty tweed.
"How are you feeling Angel? I can see you've woken up," the man asked.
"Yes, I'm much better..." Angel struggled to find a name to match the face he was seeing, but came up with absolutely nothing. He turned to Willow helplessly.
"Giles. His name is Giles," she supplied quietly.
"I'm sorry, did you just tell Angel my name?"
Willow walked over to the table and sat heavily in one of the chairs.
"Well, Giles it's like this. Angel woke up a few hours ago, but without any memory of the past three years."
"You mean, he has amnesia?"
"Precisely."
"But, but, this is incredible," the Watcher sputtered. He turned to the rather uncomfortable vampire. "What is the last thing you remember?"
"Um, last night it was 1996 and I was living on the streets in New York. Today, I find out that I live in a mansion and have missed three really sperspective, 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: 6~
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: 7~
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.
***************
Giles wasn't exactly worried, but he was certainly confused by Angel's behavior since waking up. It wasn't that the vampire was terribly different, but he was more lighthearted, less troubled. The Angel they had all known for the past three years had always had an omnipresent guilt complex, something that only Buffy had ever been able to lighten. This Angel, missing only three years, seemed confused, but more open than Giles had ever seen him. He trusted Willow implicitly, and Giles could see that he was striving to please her above all else.
Giles had finally forgiven Angel, realizing (with the help of exasperated Willow logic) that Angel and Angelus were entirely different. So it wasn't that he wanted Angel to go back to the self-hating brooder that they had always known. He had, however, assumed that Angel had always been that way.
Perhaps it was the shock of the amnesia, but Angel's very character seemed different. Giles needed to find out why, and there was only one person who could tell him.
He picked up the phone.
****************
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.
*****************
Giles hung up the phone and returned to the library table.
"Well, Willow, I must say I'm impressed. Getting Xander to talk to Angel has always been a chore, but getting him to be nice to him- I wouldn't have thought it possible." Xander shrugged.
"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: 8~
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.
**************
Angel gingerly lay Willow down upon the bed, pulling the blankets around her still form.
'Did she ever feel this panicky, looking at my unconscious form?' he thought.
He chafed her wrists, wishing her eyelids would flutter open and he would see those green eyes again.
Eventually, the warmth of the bed and the ministrations of a solicitous vampire were enough to wake Willow up. "Angel?" her voice asked softly. He brushed the hair from her cheek, thanking each and every saint whose names he had been forced to memorize as a child. "How are you feeling?"
"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.
**************
Taking a moment to brush the dust off his shoes, the person who had watched Angel's fight had an odd expression on his face.
He headed towards the high school and eventually found the library, where Giles was sleeping in his office.
"You the watcher?" he asked. Giles started out of his sleep, taking a moment to focus on the man's bemused face.
"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: 9~
"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.
***************
The two subjects of so much conjecture were oblivious to it all as they enjoyed themselves back at the mansion.
"No way."
"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: 10~
'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.
*****
Eventually, Angel had to wake Willow up. Not the way he wanted to, though. He wanted to wake her up by trailing soft little kisses down her jaw. Unfortunately, there wasn't any way she would be able to construe it as platonic, so he was forced to simply shake her by the shoulder.
"Willow? We should probably go."
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.
*****
"So, you really think Angel is in love with Willow? That would certainly...complicate things." Giles frowned at the thought.
"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?"