Finding You

"I don't think anyone's at fault here. But can I make it up to you later?"

"I'm sure we could work something out."

"Well, this weekend, Mom's out of town and she specifically asked me to stay with you."

"I wouldn't mind."

"She said after PT Night she'd drop me off at your place."

"I like the idea."

"Major bonding time," Buffy winced seconds later. "I mean..."

Angel gave a laugh. "It's okay Buffy, I know what you mean."

"Okay. Back to flyer making before Snyde-man shows up."

Angel nodded and Buffy swiveled back around in her chair, playing around with the different font styles that were on the computer. This was actually kind of fun, designing flyers. She had put a flower border and anything girly-ish one could think of on it. She was going to make two different ones, this one and a more "manly" one just for Angel's sake.

"Flowers again? Buffy don't you think--"

"Shush! You can have your turn making the more guyish one, be patient. Where's the pink printing paper?"

Angel inwardly groaned and went in search of it.

Part Fifteen

Ducking an oncoming punch, Buffy brought her fist up into the vampire foe's gut while Angel took him from behind -- the stake lodging itself nicely in his back. She dusted herself off, rising to her feet and saw another one behind Angel. She shoved him to the side, jumping off both feet to slam them neatly into the vampire's chest.

As she scrambled to stand, Angel had moved forward -- punching the vampire straight across the face. Buffy somersaulted forward instead and kicked her leg out underneath the vampires' feet -- knocking him off them. She reached up, gesturing for Angel to hand her the stake and no sooner had he done that, that a neat pile of ash had it's momentary place on the cemetery grounds.

Angel helped Buffy stand and she tossed the stake aside.

"Lots of vamps out tonight, what was that, number seven?"

"Six I think. It's because of Spike, he's out full force building his group up for this weekend..."

"Maybe I should walk you home first, I just...I don't want you to run into him without me there. No means to crush the male ego at all, I just don't think I could lose you."

"You don't have to be modest for me, Buffy. It's probably a wise idea..."

"Good, no complaints."

"...But since I did drive my car here..."

"Oh yeah. Forgot that. Well, still, I can walk home from your place."

"Are you sure? I don't think--"

"Ah, ah! Come on, let's get you home. Besides, Mom wanted me home by ten anyway."

"All right, if you insist."

She nodded firmly and they walked back to his car. There in the driver's seat sat Spike, fiddling with the wheel. He saw the couple approach and waved them over. Angel and Buffy approached slowly, stopping by the passenger side door.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Buffy hissed.

"Looking to give some a nice kick in the ass," he replied simply. "Up for it?"

Buffy glanced to Angel and shrugged. "He's just a vampire."

"He's not just a vampire, he's got a couple of centuries on his back," Angel retorted.

"Still, if I fight him now I have a good chance of winning so..."

"I'll be close."

"That sounds more like it!" Spike hopped over the door of the car and moved over to where the couple stood. "I'd like to take this in there, so just sit here keeping the car warm peaches." He said to Angel while guiding Buffy back into the cemetery.

Angel waited till they were out of view to go back into the cemetery, watching them from a distance.

"This is really old-fashioned don't you think?" Buffy questioned.

"I was born in the eighteenth century," Spike snorted.

"Good point. Let's get this over with."

"Suit yourself."

Spike sent a kick to Buffy's kneecaps, immediately knocking her to the ground. She rolled backwards and up to her feet, spin kicking him in the head as he neared her. Before he recovered she followed it up with an uppercut to his chin. He was the next to fall flat to the ground. He rolled to the side and up to sitting on one knee, his hand reaching out to sock her in the solar plexus as she neared him. She emitted a loud "oof!" and fell forward onto her hands. Spike reached under her, shoving her forward to land painfully on her back.

He stood up, looming over her. "Hand enough yet, pet?"

She sent her knee up into his face and he stumbled back yelping. "It's not over till the Slayer..well...stakes."

Spike started backing up. "Well, then I'll be seeing you around, luv."

"Whatever..." Buffy waited until he turned around before heading back to Angel. Angel met her halfway and she huffed irritably at him. "How bad is my hair?"

"Yes, Mom, I'm okay. Positive. Okay, look, just don't invite anyway into the house that you don't know. Especially blonde haired guys that remotely resemble Billy Idol, okay? Don't even leave the house tonight. I'm going to stay over at Angel's until morning, he'll take me to school. Yes, I have some clothes here. Don't worry over me, just do as I ask okay? Thanks. Love you, bye."

Buffy hung up the phone and turned to Angel, exhaling. "Okay, she's out of the woods too. And no I really don't have clothing here, but I do at school. So that'll have to do."

Angel nodded. "All right."

"And thanks for letting me stay over, I really appreciate it."

"Buffy, you know it's no problem."

"I know, I just...don't want to feel like I'm intruding. Pretty silly, huh?"

Angel chuckled, "Yeah, pretty silly. You should get to bed, I don't want to get you late to school."

"'Cause that would be such a horrible thing." She cut him off before he protested. "I know, I know. I'll hit the hay. G'night." She kissed him and scampered into the bedroom. He joined her after she finally dozed off fifteen minutes later.

Part Sixteen

After school the following day, Buffy, Willow and Xander stood around the High School lounge looking over the long pieces of butcher paper that they had just finished painting. Xander was staring proudly over his work of a splatter paint design while Buffy and Willow admired their neatly painted yellow piece.

"This sheet of butcher paper one day...will be famous," he said to the girls in a proud voice. "I will be known throughout the world..."

"As the best person who can splatter paint on paper?" Buffy questioned.

"You mock me now, but just you wait..."

"We shouldn't mock him Buffy," Willow began to say. "I mean he could be right, he could become famous for this -- you should see his finger paint art from second grade. That stuff could be priceless."

"How foolish of me," Buffy tittered.

"I'm gonna go get more paint," Xander offered and made his way to the Art room.

As soon as he left, Willow turned to Buffy looking overly eager. "Well? The talk? How'd the talk go?"

"Right," Buffy cleared her throat. "He can't...you know."

"Have baby Eggberts?" Willow frowned.

"Exactly. I felt so bad for freaking like that afterwards too."

"Oh Buffy, that's not your fault though."

"I know. I just felt terrible for bringing it up, I should've known better. He didn't seem uncomfortable about telling me, which is a good -- but I don't think he would have told me to begin with."

"He has opening up issues, that's understandable. Most guys are like that."

"That's true. I just don't want him to think at all that he can't talk to me about these things."

"You should tell him that," Willow nodded. "When he comes around today."

"He's not...coming around today. I asked him to stay home, I'm gonna swing by after we're done here before patrol. You and Xander are coming with me, I'm not letting you out of my *sight* until this all blows over. And even then."

"Buffy, you don't have to worry about us."

"I do worry, when you live on a Hellmouth, Will..."

"Okay, worry, but not too much."

"Promise. Okay, now we need the paint. Where's Xander?"

"Getting it. So what do we wanna write on these?"

"Parent teacher night and the date?" Willow blinked. "Just a thought."

"Good thought, a simple thought. Did you see the flyers Angel and I made?"

"Oh yeah! The pink one's so cute!"

Buffy grinned. "That one would be mine. The one with the big black writing and all that? That's Angel's."

Willow rolled her eyes in a teasing manner. "He's such a guy."

"He's my guy," Buffy said in a slightly defensive tone.

"Ladies, I have the paint," Xander announced and set them on the empty table they had pulled up. "Dig in and enjoy while I make a pit stop for a mop -- just in case." He slipped away again.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a look. "The art room isn't that far away. Why'd he take so long?"

Willow watched after Xander as he disappeared around the bend. "Not sure, but at least he's being semi helpful. We should get painting."

Buffy shrugged and went over to the canisters Xander had brought. "See, since we painted it yellow the words should be...black?"

"Ooh, maroon! School colors!"

"Ah, good choice. Which one's maroon?" Buffy stared at the paint cans blankly.

"I think we're gonna have to mix colors."

"Oh...you can do that part right? Since I really don't know which ones to mix."

Willow chuckled at her friend and nodded. "Sure, I can mix."

Cordelia looked angrily at Xander as he entered the broom closet. She even hit him in the arm for a better effect.

"What took you so long?!"

"A man needs to drink."

"Man?" Cordelia scoffed.

Xander pretended to laugh. "You know, I really think we should find an open classroom. This closet...I've got poked in the back by that mop five times now."

"The mop you're supposed to be taking to them," Cordelia reminded. "And then say you're going home so you can come back here with me."

"They can wait," he subtly hinted as he moved in on Cordelia. He was dating the hottest girl in school, next to Buffy, and he couldn't say a word about it. It was a torment he'd just have to sit through. Cordelia pressed her mouth to his, easily starting up one of their typical hormonal filled, closet-centered manifestations of teen angst.

Before they fell to the floor, she reached up to turn the light out.

"I'm *really* sorry, Buffy!" Willow pleaded. "I didn't mean to...splatter."

Buffy stared down at her red-paint stained skirt and sighed. "Willow, it's okay. I'm not going to bite off your head for it."

Still flinching at the damage she'd done, she backed up a small step. "I'm still sorry."

"Willow, relax. It's no big. I'll just go get one of the towels out of the janitor's closet and see if I spot Xander. We need to get this mess cleaned up. Wait here, okay?"

"Okay," Willow squeaked.

Buffy gave her a reassuring smile and went off in search of the nearest janitor's closet. She passed by one without thinking -- the only thing bringing her attention back to it was the sound of a few items falling off their shelves. She glanced around curiously before approaching the closet.

She tugged on the door, making sure it wasn't locked, and opened it. She blindly reached in, finding the light switch and pulled on it. She dropped her gaze to the floor and nearly lost her lunch on the floor there.

"Xander?! Cordelia?!" Buffy backed up, mortified. "What the hell is going on?!"

"XANDER!" Cordelia hissed and stood up, dragging Xander with her. "I told you to take the stupid mop with you first!"

"Uh...hi Buffy!" Xander managed to sputter out.

"You do realize how completely crushed Willow is going to be when I tell her about this don't you?" Buffy shook her head at Xander. "Just...hand me the towel behind you and...I'll go. Leave you two to your tonsil swallowing."

Xander, keeping his head down, turned and reached for the towel as asked and handed it to her. She shot them both a steamy glare and slammed the door. Xander and Cordelia looked at each other momentarily.

Cordelia finally broke the silence. "This is all *your* fault!"

Part Seventeen

Buffy walked right back into the student lounge with the towel gripped tightly in her hand as she brushed past Willow. Willow watched after her for a minute, becoming puzzled.

"Buffy? The poster's are over here..."

Buffy stopped abruptly, turned ever so slowly on the heel of her shoe and marched back to Willow.

"Sorry," the Slayer apologized to her friend. "Just had some walking ventage to do."

"Is something wrong?"

Buffy calmed down at the concern in her voice. "Yes, but...maybe we should get the paint of my skirt before I go off into a fury."

"I think the fury should come first. In fury there's paint to be thrown, so..."

Buffy huffed, "Fine. It's about Xander. And Cordelia. And closet smooching."

Willow struggled to find her voice box. "I...I have to go."

"Willow...I realize it's...disgusting. And disgusting still, but...I mean it *is* Xander..."

Willow's lower lip quivered as if she were about to cry. "You don't understand. For our whole lives...Xander and I have been picked on by Cordelia. We -- we had a club! A-and--"

"Willow, I know. You went through your childhood with me a couple of weeks ago, remember? It's hard to stomach, I know, I saw it firsthand but..."

"I can't be here...I'm...I'm gonna go home."

"What about mixing colors? I--I need help," Buffy pleaded in a childlike voice. "Don't go, Will. Scold Xander tomorrow. Hey, we can even mock him at lunch."

"You don't understand, Buffy...I need to go sulk."

"So sulk here, I don't want you to sulk alone."

Willow looked watery-eyed at her best friend. "Okay. On the couch, good sulking there."

"Hey, wherever you need to sulk, we can sulk."

Willow sniffed, drying her tears she was trying to force back. "Thanks, Buffy."

Buffy hugged her. "No problem."

Angel opened the door to see Buffy standing there marred with paint. His eyebrows raised, though he gestured for her to come in instead of directly asking the obvious. As she walked in, he shut the door and then decided it was appropriate.

"What happened...?"

Buffy dropped her purse by the door, shaking her head as she ran her hands through her hair. "Some stuff happened after school."

"A...paint demon?"

Buffy laughed. "No, Willow accidentally spilled paint on me...I went to go get a towel from the janitor's closet and lo and behold, there's Xander and Cordy looking like they can't get enough of each other's mouths. Like a two become one thing, only with tongues. Not pretty."

Angel reeled at the very mental image. "I can see why you'd be upset."

"No, it just caught me off guard. Willow's taking it the worst...we spent an hour sulking. And she was crying, me -- I was kind of crying because she was crying. We're gonna mock Xander tomorrow at lunch though."

"He deserves it," Angel agreed.

"Yeah...Anyway, I brought some clothes to keep here." She held up her backpack with a triumphant smile that she remembered. "Do you have a drawer I can keep them in?"

"Sure, here...let me clean one out for you." He headed towards the opposite side of the room and knelt down, tugging open two drawers and emptying one into the other. Each particle of clothing stayed neatly folded in the process Buffy noticed as she took stand next to him.

"You can just throw 'em in there, Angel. Don't have to be neat and tidy... 'cause if you were I'd stay and watch and mom *really* wants to see me tonight. She's wigging."

Angel nodded and proceeded to stuff the rest of the clothes in the drawer, choosing to disregard the fact that there were bras and other items hidden in the pile. He stood up, holding the backpack out to her. She took it and gestured for him to inch nearer.

They kissed. She dropped her bag, and she was an hour late getting home. Life was good.
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