Questions

Angel was in his office, trying with little success to put some order in his papers, when Buffy joined him. She sat in a chair just opposite him but didn’t say a word. He was a bit surprised by her presence, since she always managed to avoid being alone with him when he brought Steven to Sunnydale or came back for him. For a few minutes, he continued his efforts to clear his desk, and she just watched him silently. Finally, he gave up, making a mental note to ask Fred to take care of the filing.

“I didn’t hear any shouts,” he said blandly, “so I take it she’s still alive?”

Buffy gave a start at his words, and he realized that she had been lost in her own world.

“What…? Uh, yes, she’s alive.”

As she talked, she frowned a little and shook her head slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…she was right, the Council wants her dead. They didn’t tell me to kill her, but it’s what they expect me to do.”

“But you’re not going to.”

Despite the conviction he put in his words, Angel wasn’t so sure about Faith’s safety. After all, Buffy had once been ready to kill the other Slayer. For him. It was almost painful to remember how much she had loved him then.

“Of course I’m not going to. I’m the Slayer, not a killer.”

By the way she looked at him, Angel could tell she had noticed his hesitation. Once again, they just studied each other in silence. Why did things always have to be so awkward between them?

When she had refused to come with him to LA and broken their relationship, he had told her he would always love her. Three years later, it was still true. Seeing her with him hurt, even if Angel didn’t allow the emotions to come to the surface. He had no doubt that William loved her. But a little voice kept whispering to him that Spike was using her to get back at Angelus for taking Drusilla. The voice only grew louder when Spike put on a show as he had earlier, pointing out in ways that were anything but subtle that Buffy was his. Just like he flaunted, though perhaps without even realizing it, the special bond between him and Steven.

To himself, if to no one else, Angel could admit it. He was jealous of his wayward Childe. Painfully so, for he had perfect relationships with the two people Angel loved most.

The silence was becoming more than awkward, and Buffy desperately tried to find a conversation topic. She had come to Angel because she had a question for him, but now she wasn’t sure anymore that he was the best person to answer.

“Any news from Cordelia?”

She almost kicked herself as Angel’s face reflected a sudden flash of pain.

“No, nothing,” he answered quietly.

He didn’t add anything, but Steven had mentioned more than once that his father was still on the hunt for the girl who had disappeared without trace three years before.

Again, Buffy searched for a new topic. The words came to her lips before she could stop them. Instantly, she knew it was a bad idea to tell Angel. She had told Spike she wanted to forget, and indeed it was the truth, yet at the same time the hurt of being lied to was still too fresh.

“Spike attacked people,” she blurted out. “Some bad guys. He just took some blood, without killing.”

The only sign that Angel gave that he had heard was the twitch of an eyebrow. And a hint of gold flakes in his eyes.

“Why are you telling me, Buffy?”

Good question. Why was she? Oh yes. Background check. She forced herself to look at Angel as she asked, thinking that his body language might give away as much as his words.

“You’ve known him far longer than I have,” she said slowly. “Did he ever lie to you? Or hide things from you?”

It took a few seconds before he gave her an answer. His hands were spread out on the desk, pressed down so hard that they were slightly shaking. The gold in his eyes was increasing, though she couldn’t understand how what she was saying could be angering him.

“He didn’t dare. Most of the time. He learned the hard way that very little was worth risking…Angelus’ anger.”

He had been about to say ‘my anger’, she was sure of it, and she wondered how close to the surface Angelus lurked. For some reason, it seemed that the barrier was thinner when Angel’s thoughts were on his Childe.

“He didn’t tell you he was hunting,” Angel said flatly, a statement rather than a question.

He paused for just a second, his eyes narrowing slightly, and added:

“What else did he lie about?”

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat under Angel’s unwavering stare. It was unnerving how perceptive he could be sometimes, especially compared to how blind he could be at other moments.

“He didn’t lie,” she said uneasily. “It’s more something he never explained to me.”

So, finally, she was back to her first question. Almost funny how she had arrived there, though.

“What does it mean for a vampire to…claim a Mate?” she asked, hesitating a little

Angel couldn’t help but stare at her as Buffy asked the most incongruous question he had ever heard. And that she asked him, of all people, made it painful beyond belief. He forced his voice to be impassive as he asked:

“Didn’t he explain to you when he claimed you?”

He noticed that she was biting her lower lip. She was nervous. And maybe even slightly afraid. But why? She certainly wasn’t afraid of him. She couldn’t be. She knew she had no reason to fear him.

“That’s the other thing,” she said slowly, “how exactly do you claim someone? Or how do you know you’ve been claimed?”

He had to grind his teeth together not to let out a growl as he understood. Spike hadn’t claimed her. He had sired her, had been living with her for years, but had not even deemed it necessary to claim her and be claimed by her. Fool.

“Angel…calm down…there’s no reason for you to be angry.”

Her voice was hesitating again, and the scent coming from her was clear now. She was afraid, and he realized why at last. He was angry, angrier than he had been in a long time, as it seemed only Spike could make him, and it was almost a struggle to keep the human mask in place. She would have needed to be blind not to notice.

The two things he had just heard, Spike hunting humans and not having the decency to claim the woman he said he loved, had just added themselves to the long repressed jealousy he had already been brooding on. Finally having an excuse to let it flare up – no one could treat Buffy that way – Angel embraced the fury he had been shutting out for too long.

He got to his feet and strode out of the room, aware that Buffy was following and talking to him, but unable to hear her words. His Childe had explanations to give. And a beating to receive if his explanations were not convincing enough.

It took him only a minute to reach the training room. He burst in, scowling, and Spike turned to face him. The sight of Steven on the floor, the faintest trace of blood staining the corner of his mouth, only added to his ire.

“What kind of sick game are you playing, Childe?” he thundered.

Less than a foot away from him, Spike just stared at him, no emotion showing on his face save for gold seeping into the blue of his eyes. Always so defiant, his Childe had been, until Angelus had taught him manners. But that painfully learned respect had disappeared when Angel had been cursed with a soul. The only thing that stopped the older vampire from immediately showing Spike that insolence to his Sire was still dangerous was the presence, just behind him, of Steven.