(Untitled)

[face_of_angelus]

Riding the elevator up to my floor in silence I hummed along quietly with the Muzak. Being CEO had its small perks, getting Barry White into heavy rotation in the office was only one. Could that be considered evil too? Wasn't sure if Connor would still be here, or even alive. The brief alert I'd received had been vague. All I knew was Harm had

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[buffys_bitch]

"Is it really you? I mean, are you -"

I can see how confused she is, trying process the fact that I'm standing right here talking to her, and not a pile of ash at the bottom of the hellmouth like she'd thought.

All sorts of emotions play across her face, too many to count and to fast for me to decipher. I search her gaze for some sign of relief or happiness at my being back.

"It's really me." I reply with a small wry grin, trying to reassure her, put her at ease. "I'm here, well not completely but I shouldn't quibble."

"How is this happening?" She asks, still in shock and wanting answers.

"Don't quite know the how yet. But it had to do with that trinket you gave me to wear when we faced the First." I can't help but continue to stare at her, take her in, my eyes never leaving her face. Well, alright they did leave her face a bit. I'm a man after all. And she's still as beautiful and vibrant as ever. Like looking into the sun without getting burnt.

"That bauble fried me from the inside out, love, but also kept me trapped until Captain Forehead here released me from it. Completely accidentally, of course." I throw a pointed glare Angel's way, the pillock was still just standing there, acting like none of this was his fault.

[lastguardian]

“I can’t believe this.” That’s the first thing that I can think of to say, and I’m not sure whether I’m saying it to Angel or to Spike. My insides are being wrenched in a million different directions and I’m starting to feel all shaky. Thank God for Slayerness keeping me on my feet.

Spike’s words hit me so unbelievably hard - the necklace. The one he put on to save me and a bunch of other people he couldn’t have cared less about. The one Angel gave me (which, to give Angel his credit, he wanted to wear) that killed Spike, barely leaving me with time to say a hurried “I love you” and rush out to save my own skin.

And then there was the fact that Angel brought him back. Okay, I get it - accident. But the not-telling-Buffy part, that’s not the kind of thing you just forget about. And really not the kind of thing that the girl in question can just excuse.

You’ve excused him for a lot more an annoying little voice chimes in the back of my head. How about when he tried to kill everyone you love and you had to send him to hell? You had no problem with him then.

I hate that voice.

But even so, this is fundamentally different. This is... as pissed off as I am, it’s still Angel.

Fundamentally different or not, it’s Angel. And I know - I know that if Spike had pulled the same stunt in reverse, I’d be telling him off, yelling, and hitting him.

Instead I turn to Angel and I look at him purposefully. I know that the hurt I feel is etched on my face and I don’t care.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

[face_of_angelus]

Seeing the look on her face I know the Senior Partners will be pleased. They thrive on hurt, on anger. If its good for them, its good for me.

"Forgot to mention it." As much as I liked seeing Spike sputter and go on I knew Connor was confused by all this.

"If the two of you don't mind taking your matters into private, I have a matter to discuss with my client."

Spike and Buffy could blame for everything in the world and none of it would matter. I had to get Connor out of this mess, quicker the better.

"Wes, Connor. My office, now."