"Angel!"

The sound came from nowhere, enough to make Angel spin around wildly. Then he saw her, standing a few feet away with wide eyes. Buffy.

He turned quickly, bolting behind a clump of bushes and running like there was a lion on his heels. He could hear her a few feet back, her breathing laboured because she was chasing him. He lept over one of the park benches, running faster and faster until his legs seemed to have a life of their own. He could hear her a few yards behind him, repeating his name like a mantra. *Go away, Buffy,* he thought. *You won't even begin to understand.*

Eventually he stopped sensing her presence. When it seemed safe he slowed down and looked behind him. She was gone. He knew she probably got discouraged and stopped, that look on her face that said he'd just betrayed her again. He hated that look.

He leaned against an old tree, resting his head against the trunk and sighing deeply. *You'd better be worth it, Xander,* he thought, but he knew he was.

He slid down until he was sitting on the damp grass, the stars starting to twinkle above him as the evening ended and the night began. It was Thursday, wasn't it? It was a Thursday the first night he'd met Xander. OK, it was the first time he'd ever spoken to him, but it felt like the first time he *really* got to know him.

Xander was walking home by himself from The Bronze, Cordelia off with her gaggle of friends and everyone else busy with their lives. Angel watched him stroll down the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, whistling some song. He recognized the song at the time but the details were fuzzy in his mind now.

Angel caught up with him, falling in step with him and trying to look casual. "I was just going down to the river to hang out. I could use a little company."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Angel shrugged. "Well, I just didn't know if you'd ever been down there at night."

Xander cast him a sideways look. "You know, Angel, I've lived here all my life. Of course I've been down there. Many times, in fact. One might say often."

Angel shrugged again. "Suit yourself. Never mind." He veered off course and took off through the trees, cursing himself for being such an idiot. He didn't even know what he was thinking by asking him that. Ever since he'd been to hell and back, he hadn't been himself.

But he decided to go down anyway. Sometimes there were clusters of teenagers down there and sometimes there were workers on the graveyard shift, but that night he had the place to himself. He found a good patch of grass and laid down, listening to night noises like the chirp of crickets and the quiet hum of the town on the other side of the trees. They were a lot more attractive before they were all he had.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. It was the one place where the air didn't smell dirty and stale. When he opened his eyes again he saw Xander upside down, leaning over him and studying him curiously.

Angel sat up quickly. "You scared the hell out of me."

Xander smirked. "Well, a little less hell is always a good thing." Angel didn't know whether to smile or smack him. Did the guy even know how to be serious?

"So just checking out the view, huh?" Xander sat down and leaned back on his elbows.

"Basically."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, not a word between them as they soaked up the atmosphere. Angel was the first to feel a drop of water hit his hand. He wiped it away and another hit. Then another. He sat up and noticed raindrops hitting the water, bouncing so it almost seemed like the river was spouting them instead of the other way around.

"Oh, great," Xander said, but his tone was light as usual. They stood up and brushed themselves off, the rain dampening their clothes now. Angel felt one slip down his head and drip off his hair.

"We'd better go." Angel squinted into the darkness and led the way, avoiding the spot lights as they headed back up the trail towards Sunnydale proper.

By the time they hit the streets, it was pouring. Angel felt the water soak through his clothes and drench his skin. Xander looked like a wet dog.

"Need some clothes?" Xander asked. "I just live up here. I can get you some threads, although I have to tell you that I have very little black. My wardrobe isn't very vamp-ish"

Angel actually laughed a little. "That's fine."

Everything was quiet and dark in the little white house with the green shutters. Angel went into the bathroom and wiped his face with a towel, avoiding the mirror. He came out to find Xander in his room, stripped down to his boxers. He was bent over his stereo, looking for the perfect CD.

Angel held his breath as he stepped across the room, leaning forward and letting his lips graze Xander's pale neck. Xander tensed for a minute, probably afraid Angelus was back and ready to tear a strip off him. Angel reached around and rested his hand on Xander's stomach, rubbing gently to let him know that everything was OK.

"I can't..." Xander mumbled. "I can't...."

Angel shushed him quietly, pressing into Xander when his head fell back and rested on Angel's shoulder. The rules of the game were already made. They couldn't tell anyone, especially not Buffy. Angel still loved her and it was arguable that Xander did too. They knew it couldn't happen often, and they were probably scared of getting to involved in it anyway. Angel left Sunnydale a few months later without saying good-bye, figuring Xander wasn't that attached to him anyway. But Angel was. Angel lived for it. He's always cursed the side of his personality that made him care deeply for people, and once it happened it never went away.

****

After seeing Buffy, the night just got worse. He found himself standing at some kid's door with Spike, who knocked confidently.

Angel shivered. "Are you sure he's going to invite us in?"

"Of course he's going to invite us in," said Spike. "He's the biggest fairy this side of West Hollywood. He'll get one look at your hair and he won't be able to resist."

Angel didn't know why Spike had picked this place, or what stake he had in some kid whose parents had kicked him out a year ago and was now giving blowjobs to high-class businessmen for $100 a throw. He didn't even know how Spike got that information.

The kid who answered the door was like a different version of the one strapped to Spike's wall - androgynous face, slender body, a tattoo on his right arm of some wounded bird and earrings in both ears.

Spike smiled. "Steven sent us. Can we come in?"

And who the fuck was Steven? Angel just followed Spike into the apartment, which was small with brick walls and a tiny air conditioner teetering in the window, incence burning on top of it. Surveying the apartment, Angel decided he's rather live in the little cubbyhole Cordelia called home than here.

He wasn't sure he could take killing again. His stomach swam as he watched the kid cross the room, Spike on his heels as he geared up for the attack. He lunged and bit into him savagely, hitting just the right vein to make the blood spray. Spike always had to show off.

Angel put his hand on the wall to steady himself, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew Spike wasn't watching. He really just wanted to call the whole thing off and go back to L.A., leaving Buffy a note about what Spike was up to. But something prevented his feet from moving, keeping him routed firmly in place. It had always been hard enough to fight what he was, and it didn't help that blood was soaking into the carpet, going to waste when it would feel so electric in his veins....

Spike held the kid tight, his body limp now as the life left him, and looked past Angel. "We got him for you, love. Dinner is served!"

Angel followed his line of sight to find the kid - the one Spike had chained to the wall - standing in the doorway, his features turned feral now, his teeth gleaming when he smiled.

"Oh, fuck me," Angel moaned, falling back against the wall. "Oh, fuck me." He gave himself a minute to recover, realizing how sweet it was going to be to watch Spike crumble to dust. Except now he had an accomplice. Angel wasn't sure how much longer he could take this - the killing, the waiting, the blood, the new protegee.... Xander, he thought. Xander, you had better be worth it. Even if he backed out now, Spike and his friend would take him on, and he wasn't sure he could beat both of them. There was no turning back, and so he drank....

-end-