Chapter VI

Buffy opened the door and went stock-still.  The man never ceased to amaze her.  Angel was dressed in the usual Angel attire but the subtle changes were astounding.  The faded black cotton pullover had been traded for a rich burgundy silk button up shirt.  The khaki Dockers had been replaced with a pair of very nicely cut black dress slacks.

She swallowed audibly, making a mental note to never confuse the lack of desire to dress nicely with the inability to do so.  “Come in, Angel,” Buffy said, stepping out of the doorway.

The small gathering had been fairly noisy, but when Angel entered the room, most of the conversation died.  Buffy smiled nervously at the crowd.  It wasn’t strictly a work event.  The regular Friday payday group was in attendance and in addition a couple of Buffy’s neighbors, Gunn, and his girl, Fred, came.

“Everyone, this is An- Liam Angelus,” Buffy quickly corrected.  “Liam, this is everyone.”  Buffy was fairly sure that Angel wouldn’t have had the social graces to make everyone’s acquaintance, but she didn’t even leave him the option as she dragged him into the kitchen.

Angel looked at her uneasily and shifted, toying nervously with the cuffs of his shirt.  “I told you I don’t socialize,” he said.

Buffy shrugged.  “So, everyone should try something new now and then,” she snapped and then frowned at herself.  “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.  “I’m really glad you came.”

Angel smiled softly at her.  “Thank you for inviting me,” he said.

Buffy nearly jumped when the kitchen door swung open revealing Lindsey.  He looked a little startled upon seeing Angel, but then smiled warmly.  “Angelus,” he said holding out his hand, “good to see you.  Been a while.”

Angel looked at the proffered hand for a moment and then shook it.  “McDonald,” he said, nodding his head.

Buffy quietly slipped away, allowing the two to speak privately.  Willow ambushed Buffy and tried to be subtle as she steered her into the bedroom.  Once she closed the door she turned and pounced, “Give!”

“Give?”  Buffy asked, confusion covering her features.

Willow thought at first Buffy was kidding.  “With Liam,” she prompted.  “How did you get him here?”

Buffy’s face cleared and a tiny smile tugged at her lips.  It gave her a jolt to see Angel at the door, but mostly because of how he looked in that shirt and those pants.  It had made her wonder what he’d look like without that shirt and those pants … and what was the matter with her?

She flushed when she realized Willow was watching her, still waiting for an answer.  It didn’t hit Buffy, as it should have, that everyone would wonder why he was there.  She was used to working with him every day, used to seeing his face, hearing his voice, they weren’t.  She was surprised he had come, they were shocked.  “I’m not really sure,” she said honestly. “He told me he wasn’t coming.”

Willow saw the look on Angelus’ face when Buffy led him to the kitchen.  There was nervousness and discomfort, but not towards Buffy.  Nor had Willow missed the shy smile Angel gave Buffy that she glimpsed when Lindsey pushed open the kitchen door.

Riley hadn’t seen the smile, which was probably just as well.  He was still getting over the shock of seeing Liam Angelus attempting to be social.  What was Buffy thinking of inviting that lunatic into her home?  He shook his head as he sat on the couch, watching for Angelus to come out of the kitchen.  He’d keep a close eye on him even if no one else did.

When Angel left Lindsey and returned to the living room, he found a chair in a corner, as far away from everyone as he could get.  He glanced around the apartment inquisitively.  In his solitary life, there were very few instances he had visited other people’s homes and the times he did, he had never felt comfortable.  But here, he felt curiously at ease, not with the people, but the surroundings.  He could see and feel Buffy everywhere, in everything, from the warm, vibrant colors of the walls, to the soft, muted tones of the furniture it contrasted.  It held that sunshiny freshness he always associated with her.  Small touches like scented candles, framed pictures of friends and family that covered the tops of bookcases and shelves and stuffed animals tucked in odd corners, all bore Buffy’s unique imprint.  The fleeting sense of comfort, however, was lost in the more common and overwhelming feeling of awkwardness from being around so many people in such a small space.

Angel’s fellow co-workers were somewhat taken aback when he showed up.  He still acted as though a dark cloud lived over his head, the brooding look firmly in place.  He barely gave a glance to anyone in the room except Buffy.  Although he was civil to Lindsey when they met and made small talk blandly enough.  Even bland for Angel was a step up, he didn’t ‘do’ small talk.  He even seemed to attempt being pleasant to Willow and Tara, though it was difficult to tell for sure if that’s what it was.  Better to say he actually noticed them and growled less in their company.

The party had been going on for a while before Angel arrived and quieted down noticeably when he first came through the door.  Conversation had resumed after a time, but was muted compared to the rather loud, active chatter earlier.  The whole idea of having a good time seemed to be lacking to Xander as he looked around, deciding this called for drastic Xander measures.

“What this party needs is a little excitement,” he announced, glancing around for support, “A game maybe?”

Anya jumped up, practically jumping Xander in the process. “You mean sex games?” she asked brightly.  Then hearing a few snickers in the room, she added, “Well, I mean not the kind we play.  Although they are fun …”

Xander, reddening visibly at her statement, interrupted her, "Anya, remember we talked about the sex thing and keeping it between ourselves?"  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he flamed an even brighter shade of crimson.

One cue Anya replied, "Well of course your thing is between us!  I just said not those games,” she huffed.

Xander attempted to direct the conversation back to safer waters, “I was thinking of ‘Spoons’,” he said.

“’Spoons’?” Buffy questioned, “That’s a game?  An eating game?”

“All you need is a deck of cards and one less spoon than players,” he explained laughing, shaking his head.  “You use one set of four of a kind for each person.  You know … four twos, four threes, four fours.  You shuffle them and pass them all out.”

“Go, on,” Buffy prompted him.  She’d known Xander long enough to wonder what she was getting herself into if she agreed to let everyone play his ‘game’.

 “Then everyone passes one card to the right,” he went on, “and keeps passing until one person gets four of a kind.  That’s where the spoons come in.”

Buffy, feeling more and more like she was going to be sorry, finally asked, “And then?”

“Then everyone goes for the spoons in the middle of the table.  The one who doesn’t get one, is out,” he said.  Everyone was looking at him and then each other.  “It’s kinda like musical chairs, only with cards instead of music,” he offered as an example.  When there was still no response, he raised his voice a little to plead, “C’mon … for the fun!”

“Xander,” Buffy questioned him nervously, “why do I get the feeling my table and chairs might be in danger?”

“Buffy,” he chided her laughingly, “we’re all adults, right?  We wouldn’t break any furniture.  It’s just a simple game!”

“So,” she grinned back, “you won’t mind paying for them if they have to be replaced.”

“Hear that, guys?” Xander whipped around, now nervous himself, “No breaky the wood, ‘kay?”

Xander viewed Buffy in amazement when she told him she didn’t own a single deck of cards.  He tramped off to his car and retrieved the pack he kept handy in his glove compartment.  Since there were only six chairs, even doubling up on them only allowed twelve people from the party to play.  To make things more interesting, it was decided whoever sat on someone’s lap would play the cards.  That would leave the one in the chair to navigate with or around their partner to grab the spoon.

Angel had immediately melted further into the shadows in his corner.  The last thing he wanted to do was play games with people.  But, Buffy, now that she’d finally gotten him to come to the party, wasn’t about to let him hide.

“Angel,” she whispered to him, “please play?”  When she saw him start to refuse, she said, “Everyone’s pairing off.  I’d rather sit with you.”

Angel was still about to tell her no when he saw out of the corner of his eye that Riley Finn had a determined look on his face.  He knew exactly what Finn had in mind.  “All right,” he acquiesced, “but only with you.”  He was damned if the boy would get anywhere near her.  It also had no small effect on Angel when he realized Buffy had chosen him out of anyone else at the party.  She promptly led him to a seat at the table.  Buffy had been so intent on making sure Angel kept his promise, she had jumped into his lap before she even noticed Riley approaching them.

Angel hadn’t thought about Buffy actually sitting on him until she did.  The closest they’d been was working side by side.  The only physical contact had been when he gave her the mug and when he checked her watch and each time he felt that small spark of energy between them.  But if he thought touching her was electric, having her sit in his lap was … high voltage and almost overpowering.  She fit right there, like his lap had been made with her in mind, waiting for her to fill it.  His arms wrapped around her automatically, as if they knew where they belonged.  He could feel another more needy and immediate response to her being so near him and tried to pull back a little, desperately hoping she wasn’t aware of it.  When his senses cleared enough to become conscious of the world around him again, he saw Riley standing right in front of them.  All thoughts of anything except protecting Buffy fell away and a low growl escaped from his throat.

Riley stopped short when he saw Buffy hop onto Angel’s lap.  He was furious.  “Buffy,” he started in a fairly loud voice.

Hearing Angel’s menacing warning and feeling him tense around her, Buffy glanced up to see Riley before them.  “Riley,” she said firmly, “you’d better find a partner.”  She gave him a forbidding look, quashing whatever remark he was about to make.  She wasn’t about to have Riley Finn make a scene if she could help it and she definitely didn’t want him for a partner.  She couldn’t deny the deep rumbling she felt vibrating through Angel's chest was all that unpleasant, it was oddly comforting to have that strange assurance of safety.  She hadn’t even noticed his arms around her, almost as if she expected them to be there.

Faith intervened at that moment, seeing the dark look on Riley’s face.  She purposely avoided the matching expression that instantly appeared on Lindsey’s at her words.  “Riley, you want to win, you need a good partner.  And that would be me,” she told him cajolingly.

Riley realized he had everyone’s attention.  It was on the tip of his tongue to say just what he thought of Angelus, but one look at Buffy’s face silenced him.  Snapping his mouth shut, he sat down, letting Faith sit across his legs.

“Kate,” Lindsey offered, taking a great deal of effort to stay cool and collected seeing Faith choose Riley over him, “looks like you need a lap to sit on.”

When everyone was finally seated, Gunn and Fred were at the head of the table with Lindsey and Kate on one side, Willow and Tara on the other.  Anya saved Xander’s place on the other end, flanked by Riley and Faith, across from Buffy and Angel.

Walking towards Anya with the cards, Xander glanced at those seated at the table, feeling the tension in the room ratchet up a few notches.  While Willow looked cute sitting across Tara’s knees, Xander was still trying to contain his shock at seeing Buffy tucked in Angelus' arms, sitting quite calmly and comfortably on his lap.  Finn glaring at Angelus across the table from him and Angelus returning the look suddenly made Xander question his own wisdom at suggesting the game.  It would be interesting … if it wasn't so downright scary.

Gunn won the cut and dealt out the cards.  During the first few rounds everyone was getting used to the game and their respective partners.  On Tara's lap, Willow couldn’t stop giggling or concentrate on the cards she held.  Xander’s face seemed to have turned a permanent shade of red as Anya squirmed and wiggled on top of him provocatively.  Lindsey threw more than one look at Faith who kept her attention fixed firmly on the cards in her hand.  Angel’s usually swift, precise movements were hampered by his distraction with the petite player balancing on his knees, peering at her small handful of cards.  Riley stared at the couple sitting opposite from him almost nonstop.

The group finished a practice run which ended with only Buffy and Angel at the table.  Angel had recovered most of his usual prowess as the game wore on.  He and Buffy appeared to have an innate synchronicity.  As she closely watched the cards, Angel’s hand seemed to slip out towards a spoon even as she formed the thought.  It was an easy victory, one that didn’t please Riley at all.  Buffy, paying more attention to the game and all her guests, wasn’t aware of the growing undercurrent.

The look Finn gave them both, especially Buffy, kept Angelus' focus almost entirely on the glowering hulk across from him.  Lindsey wasn’t at all surprised.  He knew the truth of what lay between the two men.  He also knew what a predator Angelus was in the field.  Although he sat at a desk now, McDonald had no doubt his former superior was just as cunning and quick as always.  Liam Angelus had taught Lindsey all he knew and then some, especially that he wasn’t a man to be trifled with lightly.  Lindsey saw Riley’s temper building as the game progressed and kept a close eye on both men as they watched each other warily.

Trying to divert another player’s attention became the name of the game when it came to diving for the spoons.  Xander would sing out, “Look over there!” to anyone off balance enough to listen.  Willow put on her ‘resolve’ face, but even that was unsuccessful in catching hold of a spoon.  Faith tried to catch people by the eye to keep them away from the real action.  Buffy would laugh, wave her arms, do anything to get anyone’s attention if it took them off the spoons long enough for Angel to steal one.  That worked all too well on Riley as he watched, already too late, as Angel palmed the one they both reached to claim.  Buffy laughed all the harder which made Riley even angrier.

In the middle of the second round Lindsey, Gunn, Riley and Angel were left.  Tara and Willow had been first to lose – again.  Xander and Anya had lost next.  The growing tension between Angel and Riley made itself obvious to everyone whether they were still playing or not.  Every time Riley went for the spoon nearest him, it was gone before his fingers were halfway across the table and he had to scramble for another.  Angel would stare back at him with a taunting, openly daring look.  He was itching to sink his fist into Riley’s face for even looking at Buffy.

Gunn, even with his long reach and speed, still missed the spoon he thought was within his grasp and the game was left with three pairs of opponents.  Lindsey made a valiant attempt the next hand to procure a spoon, but Riley practically stripped it from his fingers.  Lindsey saw Faith shoot him an apologetic look from her place on Riley’s legs.  Faith carefully slid a card to Buffy and braced herself for what was to come.

Buffy, finally attuned to what the rest had been aware of for most of the game, tensed as she picked up the card.  As soon as she turned it up, Riley dove towards the table to retrieve the only spoon.  In one blindingly fluid movement, Angel stood up, lifting Buffy up near his shoulder, securely holding her aloft in one arm as he deftly plucked the spoon with his free hand and stepped back.  Riley went sailing across the surface, his arm outstretched for the spoon Angel had beat him at getting once again.  Riley slid across the tabletop and off the other side to land in a pile on the floor beside them, banging his head soundly against the molding.

“Faith!” Lindsey shouted, vaulting over the table to reach her.  In spite of being prepared, Riley had knocked her to the floor in his rush to outdo Angel.  Lindsey carefully helped her to her feet and was rewarded with a dazzling smile from the fallen dark-haired beauty.

Before Riley could even sit up, it was Lindsey who was looking down at him with a dangerous glint in his eye, “It was a game, Riley,” he spat at him, “You’re damn lucky Faith wasn’t hurt.”

“I’ve been in a lot worse situations, ya know,” Faith assured him, “No big, I'm five by five, Linds.”

“No thanks to him,” Lindsey replied, keeping his eyes on the still dazed Riley.  “I think it’s time he said good night to everyone.”

Riley gave him a withering look until he saw the other faces circled around.  He dragged himself to his feet.  Tight lipped, he walked to the door in silence.  He opened it, turned around, addressing only Angelus, who was still holding Buffy tightly against his shoulder.  “I won’t be the one who’s sorry,” was all he said before he slammed the door behind himself.

Angel gently settled Buffy on her feet and gave her a pained look as if to tell her it was his fault.  The party ended on a subdued note with everyone quickly deciding it was time to call it a night.  Lindsey helped Faith find her things and guided her out the door.  The others followed quietly after them.  Willow and Tara were almost the last to leave.

“Was different,” was all Willow could think of to say.

“Least my table is in one piece,” Buffy tried to reply lightly.  “Saved Xander some money.”

Willow smiled brightly at Buffy and at Angel, who was still there, standing behind Buffy.  “Lucky for him,” she said as Tara pulled her out the door.

“Buffy,” Angel said softly, once they were alone, “I shouldn’t have come.  This never would have happened.  I’m sorry I ruined your party.”

Buffy had turned around while he was talking and looked up into his solemn eyes.  “No, Angel,” she stopped him.  “I know there’s bad blood between you and Riley, but he’s the one who caused trouble, not you.  You were a perfect gentleman,” she told him.

Angel realized Buffy was under the impression that it was the ongoing animosity between he and Riley that had caused the tempers to flare.  It suddenly dawned on him that the others had probably thought the same thing.  After all, what would Buffy see in someone like him?  What would anyone see in him?  Angel knew he should be relieved she didn’t know his true feelings, it would have made things more difficult.  He tried to tell himself he should be glad that’s what she thought, but it wasn’t working.

“I should go,” he told her.

For some reason Buffy didn’t like the idea of him leaving which didn’t make any sense.  Angel was just a co-worker and a quirky one at that.  She’d done what she set out to do, bringing him into the world a little bit more, so what was her problem?  “Thanks for coming,” she said absently, still wondering to herself.

“I'll … see you at work then …” he trailed off as he walked out the door.

“Work, right, see you there,” she said.  “Good night.”  Once she closed the door behind him, she found herself feeling very lonely.  She shrugged it off to the emptiness of the apartment after having all those people there at once.  But the loneliness lingered long after Angel left.

*****

The following Tuesday evening Angel grabbed his duffel bag and headed for the complex’s gym.  He usually worked out and practiced tai chi and kickboxing by himself.  In a rare, erratic moment he had signed up for the kickboxing refresher class.  He told himself he needed to practice against a few real opponents but he was avoiding the truth.  When Willow made one of her infrequent visits to their office he overheard Buffy tell her friend she was going to the class.  Buffy had mentioned something to him one time about taking and teaching courses in martial arts.  He had a hard time envisioning that tiny figure being a threat.  He had a harder time not envisioning that tiny figure in most of his thoughts, day and night and not as a threat … at least not that kind.

He made use of the gym on the grounds often.  It was somewhere to release the pent up energy from sitting at a desk all day and a vent for the emotional roller coaster he found himself on lately.  He always felt better after working out, then calming and centering himself with tai chi.  He was well versed in kickboxing, but didn’t practice it often anymore, except by himself.  No one ever invited him to train with them and he never thought to ask them.

Tying the drawstring on the black cotton pants, he threw the dark shirt over his shoulder and slammed the locker door shut.  It was long before the class was to begin and the large room echoed its emptiness to him as he entered it.  Easing off a little tension before anyone else showed up seemed like a good idea.  He did some warm-ups then, donning a pair of gloves, he went several rounds with the punching bag.  After working up a sweat, he moved to a more dimly lit area and lifted his arms, flowing into the soothing cadence of tai chi.  He became intent on trying to clear his mind of a small bright figure.  So engrossed, he failed to notice the reality of the illusion pad across the room in barefooted silence to where he stood.

Buffy had arrived early with much the same idea in mind as Angel.  After changing into a pair of black stretch pants and a short black halter-top, she twisted her long, blonde curls into a knot and fastened it near the top of her head, securing it with a headband.  She became aware of the fact she wasn’t alone the moment she stepped in the room.  Buffy knew without a glance who it was in the shadowed corner of the gym.  She couldn’t seem to stop her forward movement until she was in front of him.  Close up, she couldn’t suppress a sharp intake of breath.

Angel looked like a living statue, chiseled from a vision and softened into life.  As he rotated in a slow circle of liquid grace, her eyes raked over the broad shoulders and chest, powerful arms, down the washboard abs to the slim waist and hips set upon long, muscular legs.  He was the most beautiful piece of man-flesh she had ever seen.  Turned away from her at one point, she was surprised to see a sizable tattoo of a bird of some kind on his back.  She admired the artwork almost as much as the muscles rippling beneath it.  He was clothed in a pair of pants … and beads of sweat.  The muscled wall that rose before her covered with those drops of moisture sent a shot of warmth tingling through her from fingers to toes.  She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

He felt her before he saw her.  As Angel’s fluid motion brought him back in her direction, he saw those same toes painted with pink nail polish.  His gaze swept up to catch hers, “Buffy,” he breathed as he found her eyes.  His own eyes dropped to the small pink tongue that came out to wet soft, pale pink lips.

Her eyes widened when she realized she was staring saying, “I didn’t know you could do that,” as if by explanation.

Feeling all the air rush out of his body when he connected that the dream before him wasn’t actually a figment of his imagination, he was suddenly shy.  “There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know,” he said quietly.

“I believe that,” she said, reminded again of how true that was.

‘Why did I tell her that?  She doesn’t need to know anymore about me, much better off if she doesn’t,’ he thought.  Trying to change the subject he asked, “Do you practice tai chi?”

“I-I do, yes,” she stumbled over the words as she watched him scoop a towel off the floor and dry his arms, then his chest.   ‘Oh, to be a towel,’ she thought wistfully, then mentally slapped herself. What had gotten into her?  Adding out loud, “Not the movement you were doing though.”

“I could show you  … if you like,” he offered hesitantly.  It was a temptation he couldn’t resist, ignoring the little voice in his head that told him he shouldn’t.  He remembered how perfectly she fit in his arms the night of the party, rather how he hadn’t been able to forget.  He just wanted to feel her against him one more time.

She nodded mutely, giving him a tiny smile, not quite able to hide her enthusiasm about the idea.  He came up behind her and slowly slid his hands down her arms, pulling them out straight in front of them.  Laying his big hands over her considerably smaller ones, he slowly raised their arms straight up.  Just as slowly he swept them in a wide circle, bringing them down and back around to where they started.  He kept his breathing in time with the motion as much as possible, to show her the rhythm as they moved.  It was difficult though – she took his breath away.  They repeated the movement several more times in silence.

Angel felt as though he’d been struck dumb.  His line of vision fell over her shoulder, down to where their hands were joined and followed as they moved, her back flush against him.  The current he always felt at her touch was burning into him.

Hard muscles flexing against her back made Buffy very conscious of the chest pressed against the thin layer of her cotton shirt.  She felt safe in his arms, as she had a few nights ago at her party when she was tucked securely in his lap.  No one else generated that kind of response in her.  She had always relied on herself, never needing anyone else for protection.  She was surprised at how much she liked it.  The warm tingle shimmered through her once again as his hands guided the arc of her arms.  It was as if she could feel him, not just outside where their skin touched, but deep inside.

He felt her … warm and soft and close …  She turned after they went through the movements.  He could see her shining hair, then her face lifting towards his, eyes closed.  Bending his head closer, his breath caught in his throat as he stared down at her, mesmerized.  The long, curling lashes, the slope of her cheek, the adorable nose … the full, pouty lips.  He was panting for breath and it had nothing to do with exertion.  His face kept moving down towards hers of its own volition … his eyes fastened on those pale pink lips … so close … waiting to be kissed …

Her eyelids started to flutter bringing reality hurtling back to him.  He stepped back, afraid his body would betray he wanted to do more than calm and center himself.  Afraid of what she must be thinking.

“I think you have the idea,” he managed to say in what he thought was a normal voice.  She molded against him so naturally, it felt like peeling his skin away when he separated himself from her.

For just a moment Buffy thought Angel looked like he’d been ready to kiss her.  One second, she had closed her eyes, letting herself go in the sensation of their arms moving together, like it was the most natural thing in the world.  The next, as if it were one smooth extension of the movement, she turned and raised her face to his.  Just as she opened her eyes and saw his head descending towards hers … he was gone.

“Yeah …” she answered, slightly dazed.  She was imagining things.  This was Angel after all.  He would never do anything like that.  Shaking her head slightly to clear her delusion, she missed his guilty, yet longing glance before it disappeared beneath his expressionless mask.  “Like this, right?” she asked as she mimicked the circle by herself, missing the warmth that had moved away with him.

“You catch on quickly,” he noted, a hint of admiration seeping in.  His heart was still racing as he tried to breathe deeply to slow it.

“Comes with practice, I guess,” she told him, “Although I spend more time with kickboxing.”

“So why do you need a refresher on it?  You are here for the class, right?” he wondered out loud.

She laughed, “Never hurts to practice, but I’m not taking it.”

“Oh,” he tried to keep the disappoint from showing, “I, uh … thought that’s what you came in for, was all.”

Chuckling again, she explained, “That is what I’m here for, but I’m leading it, not taking it.”

“Oh,” he repeated, though the word sounded completely different the second time.

Smiling, she whispered conspiratorially, “Just wanted to see what I’m up against around here.  Maybe you can tell me, how good are they?”  She wanted to bite her tongue as she saw his face fall and grow a little dark.  Of course, she thought, he wasn’t a joiner, how would he know?

“I don’t think I can help you with that, I just use the gym sometimes,” he said quietly, looking at the floor.

“I thought you were here for the class too,” she said, trying to keep it light and move away from the subject.

“I was…” his voice dropping off, he stepped back a little more.  What was he doing there?  What had he been thinking?  He should leave before the rest of the people showed up.  He found his shirt next to the towel he had dropped on the floor.  He pulled it on, getting ready to go.

“Good,” she said quickly, “you can help me get warmed up.”  She could see the look of flight in his eyes.  She wasn’t going to pass up on a chance to get Angel involved, especially when he’d taken the first step.

“I don’t know if I can help you with that either,” he told her.

“Why not?” she asked, not taking no for an answer.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said softly.  She felt so small and fragile in his arms a moment ago.

Buffy’s temper flared in spite of knowing he meant no insult.  “I’m a little girl.  I’m delicate,” she said mockingly.  “Yada, yada, yada.  It’s getting old,” she added heatedly.  “C’mon, Angel, just try to hurt me.”  Then she moved in front of him in a fighting stance.

Angel winced inwardly and thought he probably winced outwardly as well.  One moment he was looking down into the most beautiful face he'd ever seen.  The next moment that same face, although still incredibly beautiful, was filled with fury.  He hadn’t meant to make her angry.  He really didn’t want to hurt her, but he knew that if he backed away he’d only make things worse.

Without even daring to answer, he took up a position in front of her.  His swift response appeased her anger.  Buffy moved back to face him and nodded.  His only thought was to be careful, to go through a simple maneuver and be gentle with her.  He made the first move and suddenly found himself on his back staring up at her in amazement.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she smiled down at him while she held a hand out to help him up.  Buffy wasn’t ready for the face splitting grin she saw flash back up at her.  She unconsciously fell back a step from the blinding effect, her offered hand almost dropping away.  Those tingling sensations were never going to go away, she thought.

He took hold of her hand anyway even though, bounding lightly to his feet, he had no need of it … at least not to help him up.  Quickly, he stood in the same starting position as before, signaling he was ready to try again.  “First lesson,” his grin still in place, “never underestimate your opponent.”

Buffy’s smile widened at his words and she faced off against him once more.  There was a new alacrity to both their movements the second time around.  Angel still wasn’t of a mind to actually fight her, he couldn’t stand the thought of harming her in any way.  But he was intrigued by how quickly and easily she had subdued him.  They circled each other, Buffy trying to provoke him, Angel moving out of her range.  Then he made the mistake of really looking at her and once more got lost in her beauty.  The way her lithe frame generated her energy and vitality, her look, so intent on her purpose, her hands and feet weaving dainty patterns.  When she advanced on him he never saw it coming and found himself once more looking up into her eyes with his back flat against the mat.

They both heard the sound of hands clapping, Angel on his feet at the sound, Buffy’s head snapping in the direction she heard it.

Lindsey came into view, hands still hitting lightly against each other, a look of amusement in his eyes.  “She must be good,” he said as he came up to where they stood, “I never managed to get you on the mat.”

Angel didn’t feel any embarrassment at all.  “She is good,” he responded admiringly.

“’She’s’ right here,” Buffy snarked at being talked about.

“Sorry,” Lindsey apologized, “it wasn’t meant to leave you out at all.  I can’t tell you how many times and how much effort I put into trying to do what you accomplished in seconds.  I can see why you’re teaching the class,” he finished.

“It was my idea,” Buffy told him, “I wondered how I stacked up against the minions of the FBI.”  She didn’t mention she’d asked Angel the same thing and didn’t look in his direction, afraid to see that small sad look again.

“It doesn’t look like you have much to worry about since you just bested the best,” Lindsey smiled.

“I wouldn’t really say that was a fair fight,” Buffy said, shaking her head.  “Angel and I were just getting warmed up.”  Her face reddened suddenly as she heard the words she used and the fact that she had used her own name for him.

It hadn’t escaped Angel that Buffy didn’t call him Liam.  He was sure Lindsey had caught the nickname.  Rather than making him uncomfortable, Angel took an unwarranted pleasure in her familiarity.  And he didn’t mind at all that the other man had heard her use it.

“It was fair,” Angel interjected seeing the color rise in her cheeks.  “She just reminded me of how important it is not to take your opponent for granted.”

“Yeah,” Lindsey agreed, “That’s where I came in.”

Lindsey had been surprised to come across the two together when he entered the gym.  Surprised, but not really shocked.  The shock had come the Friday before at Buffy’s party.  It hadn’t been difficult that night to see the chemistry between them, no matter how low key and emotionless Angelus generally appeared.  In fact, the party was one of the only times Lindsey could remember ever seeing Liam Angelus show real emotions.  He’d been face to face with Angelus when the larger man scooped Buffy out of harm’s way while Riley slid his way into idiocy across the table and onto the floor between them.  Lindsey had been close enough to see the concern, anger and more than a hint of jealousy flash through Angelus’ eyes.  He purposely hadn’t commented on Buffy calling her officemate, ‘Angel’ and wondered if it was realizing she’d used that name or the remark itself that actually made her blush.

In all the years Lindsey McDonald had worked with Liam Angelus, he’d never heard him mention the name of a woman or join in any of the locker room discussions about women in general.  He didn’t make it his business to know Angelus’ personal life, unless it impacted directly on his work.  But he doubted that if Angelus did seek female companionship, it was anything beyond the physical.  The man never let anyone in behind his defenses, man or woman.  The little Lindsey had seen of him since he was reassigned lead him to believe Angelus’ walls had gotten even thicker and his world even smaller.

He remembered finding Angelus that morning a little more than two years ago.  The look of lost anguish on Liam’s face wasn’t one Lindsey would ever forget.  He knew something intrinsic to who Angelus was had been pierced and shattered, leaving a shell in its place.  The night of Buffy’s party he’d gotten a glimpse that the Angelus he knew was still there.  He admired and respected the man, still did, maybe even more now than before.  It was true Angelus had fallen, but a lesser man wouldn’t have struggled and scratched his way back even to where he was now.  He knew Angelus’ family was rich but that it was what Liam did with his life that he valued as his true wealth.  To have it taken away in a senseless turn of events had been tragic.  Lindsey had felt the loss of Angelus’ presence on the team more keenly than the rest.  McDonald had learned the most important lessons of being an agent under his tutelage and he owed him his life many times over.

He hoped, for Angelus’ sake, that there was something between his former leader and the small blonde fighter before him.  He could easily see why anyone would like Buffy Summers.  She was a bright, beautiful woman.  If Lindsey wasn’t so infatuated with Faith he might have been interested in Buffy for himself.  But it wasn’t hard to tell that Buffy was attracted to Angelus, although Lindsey got the feeling she wasn’t all that aware of it herself, not yet anyway.  At least not to the same degree he instinctively knew Angelus was drawn to her.  They made a strangely compelling image, turning as one towards sudden sounds coming from the far side of the gym.

McDonald heard voices behind him and looked back to see the others who were now filing through the door.  Turning back he told Buffy with a friendly smile, “I’d like to take my turn to see how good you are for myself.  You game?” he asked.

As the rest of the group filtered in and surrounded the mats, Buffy answered, “Sure, Linds.  It’s a good way to start the session.”

The other students gave Angel openly curious stares.  A few had seen him in the gym from time to time, but never interacting with anyone else.  He wasn’t doing much else now, only watching Lindsey approach on the mat and meet Buffy face to face.  Angel was barely aware of the others, his attention was riveted on the combatants in front of him.  Trying to suppress an uneven mix of fear for Buffy’s safety, growing respect for her abilities and jealousy at seeing Lindsey in close proximity to her, Angel worked to keep his expression impassive.

Sitting back as an observer, instead of a participant, Angel was struck by how deftly Buffy moved against her opponent.  Lindsey wasn’t quite as broad or tall as Angel, but was still a fair size larger than the lightweight girl he was fighting.  She seemed to dance up, then away from him, always moving, her motions calculated, yet flowing.  He saw Lindsey lunge and Buffy smoothly retreat, only to twist gracefully, bringing him down by sweeping her foot under his.  Angel didn’t know a smile broke over his face with a look of satisfaction at Lindsey’s defeat.  Not until he found himself almost clapping as Lindsey had at Angel’s descent to the mat.  He carefully masked his features again as he continued to watch the show before him.  When Buffy brought Lindsey down a second time Angel was impressed with how skillfully she accomplished it.

Lindsey, no less awed by Buffy’s expertise, exchanged places with someone else in the group as Buffy proceeded to use the encounters to instruct everyone gathered around.  Angel never moved from his spot until the class was over.  He was entranced by the petite blonde teacher’s talents although he managed to maintain his usual unreadable façade for the remainder of the lesson.

*****

Angel took a long, cold shower trying unsuccessfully to ignore the thoughts of Buffy fighting her way into his heart.  He was oblivious to the rest of the men leaving the locker room as he took his time getting dressed.  There was no hurry to return to a house he usually regarded as a haven, but tonight offered no illusion of peace.  He walked slowly out of the building, heading for the parking lot when he saw Buffy stopped outside saying good night to the last of the group.

Picking him out of the shadows, she teased, “Are you here to protect me while I walk to my car?”

Pleased at the unexpected encounter, he closed the distance between them and smiled down at her, “I think you convinced me you can take care of yourself.”  Angel’s words belied his true feelings.  Regardless of how effectively she demonstrated her combat skills, he still felt protective of his diminutive kickboxing expert.  “But I don’t mind if you guard me while I walk to mine.”

Buffy was shocked, Angel was actually joking with her.  She had been pleasantly surprised to see he was still there after everyone else was gone.  Unwillingly to spoil the moment she fell in step beside him without answering.  Neither hurried towards their destination.

When they finally did reach their cars, parked near each other, Buffy said with a grin, “Guess I should have thought of taking on the FBI sooner.”

“Maybe they weren’t ready for you before now,” he teased.  He felt unusually light-hearted and in no hurry to say good night.

He had surprised her yet again with his answer.  “Now that they know what they’re up against, I’ll have to be on my guard,” she responded, keeping the mood going.

Seeing no alternative, he finally opened his car door as she unlocked her own.  “I think you’re up to the challenge,” he told her honestly.

She liked this small peek at the other Angel she only got to see in glimpses.  Not in any rush to see him disappear, she suddenly offered, “There’s a place around the corner from here that has pretty good coffee.”

Angel looked up not able to cover the smile that slipped into place.

Emboldened by the sight, Buffy added, “Not as good as my gourmet mix, but good.”

Shutting his inner ear against the warning voice whispering inside his head, he answered, still in the same playful vein, “Guess I’ll have to try it, just to see how it measures up.”   When she smiled back he said, “I’ll follow you there.”

After the short trip, he got out of his car and reached hers, holding the door open for her.  “And they say chivalry is dead,” she teased as she stood before him.  Seeing the sheepish look at her words, Buffy hurried to tell him, “I like it,” trying to ease his embarrassment. “It’s … nice,” she ended softly.

Angel said nothing, not really sure how to respond.  In fact, now that he was here, he felt tongue-tied, wondering why he had agreed to come.  He knew the answer was that he couldn't refuse a chance to be with her, but now that he was he didn’t have a clue what to do.

He automatically opened the entrance door for her.  The gesture elicited another smile from Buffy.  He silently sucked in a deep breath of courage as he guided her to a corner table.  The only worker in the deserted coffee shop took their orders then disappeared once she served the steaming mugs of caffeine.

Buffy sensing Angel’s nervousness was careful to keep the conversation centered on the kickboxing class, then about work in general.  Discussion of anything personal in nature, she knew, would send Angel skittering back behind his walls.  She was enjoying him too much to take that chance.  They spent over an hour dawdling over their first cup of coffee and then the refill the lone waitress reappeared briefly to supply.

They finally said their good nights beside her car as he watched her get in and start it.  “Thanks, Angel,” Buffy told him sincerely, “I had a good time.”

“The coffee,” he told her, remembering her earlier remark, “wasn’t as good as yours.”

“You’re just afraid I won’t bring you any more,” she tried to say in a light tone.  She couldn’t hide the faint blush his words brought to her cheeks.

He smiled as he straightened up and stepped back, “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.  Good night,” he added.

“Night, Angel,” she called as she pulled away.

[end chapter 6]

Feedback to trammie

On to Chapter 7

Back to Chapter 5

Back to WtS Index