The Soulmate Series

Schadenfreude (Chapter Thirty-Three of Soulmates)

“Is there anything else? ‘Cause I’m kind of busy right now.” She’s being a bit equivocal, her nod towards the computer clearly indicating she expects him to believe her time has been totally occupied with research. He knows that’s not true, knows she was lost in thought before she realized he was there, but he hardly feels the need to inform her that she’s not been successfully duplicitous.

Willow is coming back to life, becoming herself again, and Angel’s actually glad of it, for all that the immediate result is a feistier, more obstinate girl to deal with. First of all, he loves her and has longed for the day when she’s no longer burdened by perceived (imagined) trauma. Second of all, her having a clearer, less emotion-clouded eye brings her that much closer to seeing things the way they truly are, even if it doesn’t appear that way at the moment. Appearances, as any vampire with control of his demon’s visage well knows, are vastly deceiving.

He brings hurt to the surface of his feelings and allows her to sense it. His control of his side of the bond is astonishing, even to him, and a part of him regrets the necessity which has honed his skill. He longs for the day when he can let go and allow her to feel him, freely and truly, when the bond can be what it is meant to be: a spiritual sharing that will bring the two of them into a harmonious oneness.

Now, though, is not that time. Still, at least he is canny and clever enough to use this link as a tool to make the day when the bond will be nothing but truth an eventual reality.

She feels the pain he’s projecting. Good.

“Are you looking into what’s happening with the Mayor? Because that’s actually what I came to talk to you about.” He pauses for a moment, waiting to feel her response. She’s interested. “I think Faith might be up to something.”

Now she’s definitely interested. Angel had a hunch she would be, knowing that she’s no great admirer of the brash and obnoxious girl. He can almost hear the wheels turning in Willow’s head and knows that she’s mulling over his words; she’s obviously already considered that possibility herself.

She’s looking at him now, eyes almost wide with a curiosity he can tell she longs for him not to know the keenness of, and it’s clear she won’t be sending him on his way anytime soon. His girl’s in full Slayerette mode now and it’s affording him a golden opportunity to show her that he’s still one of the good guys, a hero.

“What makes you think that?”

Angel doesn’t answer her question; instead, he surprises himself by pressing an advantage he might not even have. “Could we take a walk or something? It’s kind of awkward talking to you from your balcony.”

Of course what he hopes is that she’ll invite him in. She doesn’t, but what he’s feeling from her after his question is puzzling for a moment: relief. Why? Then the thought occurs to him that she’s remembering the fact that she has invited him in and his question has confirmed to her that he never heard the invitation. He stifles his exultation at his small victory, but it’s there all the same. Instinct, as ever, is proving to be the truest guide he could ask for in his quest to win what is his by rights: Willow.

It’s obvious from this that she seriously underestimates his craft and guile, thinking he would just walk in if he knew he could, but he’s not as insulted as he would be were anyone else to take him for such a fool. After all, in a war such as this one, it’s best that the opposition underestimate him. It does hurt to see Willow as his opponent, but lying to himself will get him nowhere: she is, indeed, standing squarely against him. The irony being that she doesn’t realize that she’ll only truly win if Angel does - she’s doing battle against her own happiness.

These tactical musings forebode distraction; best to refocus on the immediate present. What will his love’s answer to his question be? Angel isn’t quite sure, her feelings are murky and he resigns himself to the possibility of standing outside her bedroom and feeding her information through the ridiculous charade of a barrier they both know no longer exists, though one still acts as though it stands wall-proud before him.

“Okay. Let me get my jacket. I’ll meet you outside.” She sounds - and feels - wary, but he also senses a desire to get away from her house. Doesn’t take much to fill in the blanks now that he’s figured out the reasoning behind her earlier relief: she’s afraid something will happen that will lead to him discovering the barrier is gone if he tarries too long at the french doors. Clever girl. She’s weighing the circumstances and using logic, not just emotion, to choose her course of action. No wonder he loves her.

He leaps down from the balcony, silent as a panther, and waits by her front door. His hands are in his pockets and he’s affecting a shy and uncertain mien and manner. He’s the very picture of the awkward gentleman caller he’d once been with a certain blonde Slayer Willow calls friend.

Evoking this image, however, is a double-edged sword and he’d do himself a good turn by calculating the best way to dull the wrong side of that blade. After all, Buffy has been doing a surprisingly effective job of reviving her friendship with Willow lately and, while the altruistic side of Angel is glad that his soulmate hasn’t been left abandoned and hurting, he knows it’s actually better in the long run for both of them if she endures the anguish of friendless solitude now. Besides, there’s also the fact that the closer she is to Buffy, the guiltier she’ll feel about loving Angel. That’s an obstacle he doesn’t need in his path.

The door opens and out she steps into the moonlight. She’s beautiful, all the more so for the sense of purpose and returning strength that infuses her with an animation he’s missed more than he knew.

“So, what’s going on with Faith?” She wastes no time before cutting to the chase.

They start their walk down the path leading from Willow’s front stoop and Angel replies once they’re at the sidewalk. “She’s been acting oddly lately.” Willow quirks an eyebrow at him and he grins ever so slightly. “Well, more oddly than she normally does.”

Willow’s looking at him with a mixture of interest and impatience, and that’s mirrored in what he senses she’s feeling. She keeps walking with him, however, so it’s clear interest is the more powerful of the two.

“Do you remember the other night? When Buffy and Faith went off slaying together?” Willow’s taken aback by this, not sure where he’s going. “When Giles told me to go look into things, what he really wanted was for me to follow them.” Score another win for his cause. Willow is clearly affected by this revelation - Giles trusts Angel, at least enough to send him out on an important errand. “He was pretty sure that there was something more to what Faith was up to than a desire to do her duty. He was right.”

Up until now, what Willow had known of that night was limited to what Angel had told her, Giles, Xander, and Cordelia in the library: he’d seen Buffy and Faith fighting the unusual vampires, noticed another vampire retrieve the swords their leader had dropped, and followed said vampire to City Hall. The overheard conversation between Buffy and Faith had heretofore not been revealed, not even to Giles, who’d assumed that there had been nothing further to report.

“We both know that Faith has some serious issues.” Willow nods and Angel continues. “I heard them talking and she was trying to influence Buffy to act more like her. From what I gathered, that night was supposed to be some sort of ‘Slayer bonding’ excursion. It was also pretty obvious that Faith wanted to gather any sort of personal information she could use to hurt Buffy with in the future. She kept trying to get Buffy to say she’d slept with Xander.”

Bulls-eye. If anything was going to push Willow’s buttons, it was that. Angel pauses for a moment to process what he’s reading from her and is relieved that the anger doesn’t seem to contain a worrisome level of jealousy - more the residual traces of her one-time crush on the boy than anything else. Because of that, Angel decides not to specifically state that Buffy denied the charges; though he knows Willow won’t really believe that her best friends have had an affair, the little bit of jealousy he does sense could prove useful in driving the necessary wedge between these friends.

“Then Faith said that she intended to sleep with Xander and that she didn’t care if he was involved with Cordelia or anyone else.” A bit of creative license there, to be sure, but nothing blatant. Even were Willow to repeat those words verbatim to Buffy, he doubted his ex would even remember that the conversation hadn’t gone exactly that way.

Willow’s seething, probably all the more so for being forced to take Cordelia’s side, but, to her credit, she keeps her eye on the ball. Angel’s impressed. She’s a woman of true grit and focus. Buffy has no idea how lucky she is to have Willow on her side. “Okay, I get that she’s a skanky slut, but what does this have to do with the Mayor?”

“I’m getting to that.” For all his admiration, Angel wishes that Willow would, for just a moment, lose that awe-inspiring sense of righteousness and take in the fact that the night she’s sharing with the man who loves her is starlit and beautiful in the way that only California nights can be, but she might as well be walking through a concrete desert for all she notices the loveliness around her. “After I saw her and the way she tried to distract Buffy while they were fighting, it was clear to me that she’s extremely jealous of Buffy and more than likely unbalanced. I realized she might be capable of anything.”

The wheels are turning again, and even though the fear and uncertainty are pouring off Willow in waves he’d have sensed even without the bond, he’s so proud of the fact that she’s thinking through the fear.

He tells her the rest. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the Deputy Mayor is dead. Given the fact that Faith was there when he came to see Buffy, well...”

“Oh my God.” Willow blanches. “You really think that...?”

“I do. Willow, I saw the expression on her face when Giles got the news tonight at the library. For a moment she looked...well...proud.”

Willow is silent, obviously in shock. She may dislike Faith intensely, but he knows it’s hard for her to believe that a Slayer - a Slayer - might be capable of the basest sort of treachery, might be willing to side with the very forces she was chosen to do battle against. For all she’s seen, his love is still an idealist.

Something in the air disturbs his thoughts. Well...speak of the devil. Faith is about (hiding behind a tree, in fact), close enough to see them, but far enough away to be out of earshot, undoubtedly hoping to evade his senses. She hasn’t been there long, but he’s sure she thinks this is her lucky night, happening upon them like this. An idea occurs to Angel, one which will serve to both put the kibosh on any hope Faith has of staying in anyone’s good graces and likely put some distance between Buffy and Willow. With Faith’s one-track mind, this will be child’s play.

“Willow,” he stage whispers, knowing full well Faith is too far away to hear a thing, even were he to speak normally. “Don’t look, but Faith is around here somewhere.” He lets her feel the surprise and concern he would be expected to experience in these circumstances, and she does exactly what he expected - what he wanted: She looks around quickly before catching herself and trying hard to act unsuspicious...which of course looks hopelessly contrived. To Faith’s eyes, that will read guilty, and that means guilty of the only thing Faith thinks ever goes on between a man and a woman.

“We should go back to your house now,” Angel continues in that same stage whisper, leaning in towards Willow as he speaks. He ‘forgets himself’ and touches her shoulder. While the flinch and recoil are hurtful, Angel consoles himself that they have served even more to create a perfect tableau of two people caught cheating and trying to hide that fact. Willow’s reaction, while unpleasant, does serve his purposes rather effectively, and it does seem to him that she’s a bit less repulsed by him than formerly. Wishful thinking? He’s fairly certain he’s too clear-headed for that.

They make their way a bit too hastily back towards Willow’s house, Angel setting the pace. He makes sure to project anxiety and is gratified that it’s what he reads in response as well. Faith doesn’t follow them, but Willow’s not aware of that and he feels no need to enlighten her. Let her worry that they are being spied on for what they are doing rather than discovered by chance and suspected of what they are not doing (not yet, that is), and let her believe his panic mirrors her own.

Underneath it all, though, Angel is anything but fearful - in fact, he’s ecstatic. He’d written Faith off as a useful tool and tonight has proven a delightful surprise. As an added bonus, he needn’t cultivate even the barest mockery of a friendship with the girl. Fortune is smiling upon him, without question.

The trip back to Willow’s house is made in silence and they get there sooner than Angel would like under normal circumstances, but maintaining the integrity of this farce is key, so he isn’t at all inclined to complain. As far as Willow knows, he’s tense and pensive and distracted - all the things he’d be feeling if all this were on the up and up and he weren’t as cunning and capable as he actually is. She is nearly hysterical, almost undone by her apprehensions about what Faith might be up to tonight.

Standing at her front door, Angel makes the obvious attempt to allay her fears. It won’t succeed, of course - in fact, it’s more than likely to achieve the opposite result - but success is not the point. What matters is doing something predictable and familiar.

“I’m positive Faith didn’t hear anything.”

Her eyes are wide with agitation. “Are you sure? I mean, what if she did? Oh God. What if she really is in cahoots with the Mayor? What if she knows we’re on to her?” Willow is shaking now and it’s all Angel can do to keep from pulling her into his arms to soothe away her fright. He has to remind himself that she’s not ready for that...yet.

“I’m sure, Willow. I know I would have picked up on her presence more strongly if she’d been that close.” The words ‘I know’ give just the opposite impression from what they say, just as he intended. Willow interprets them as overcompensation, and while she attempts to convey relief in her demeanour, her emotions are all over the map. She will not sleep well tonight and fatigue will render her woefully ill-prepared for what she will face tomorrow when she encounters Buffy.

He doesn’t wait for her to do more than mumble, “Okay, I guess you’re right,” before taking his leave.

“Good night, Willow. Lock your doors, okay?” With that, he’s gone. Her disquiet follows him as he walks away, remembering to tamp down the bond as he goes. Tonight he actually doesn’t hate doing so, because her fear and nervousness are rather painful. He hates that he has had to put her through so much discomfort and anxiety, but the end is in sight, he knows it. Events are shaping themselves to fit his destiny - his and Willow’s.

He’s glad she can’t sense his feelings right now because, as he strides through his own door and into his front room, he’s almost lost in visions of what will be. He can see himself sitting before the fire, Willow curled up next to him as he reads to her from one of his favorite books, her hair glowing in the firelight, her eyes full of love as she listens to him. Or she’s kneeling before him, worshiping his cock with her mouth, the smooth slide of her lips over his length a hymn to her devotion.

These are no fantasies, no pathetic fancies conjured up to mask a bleak and empty future, these images are prophecy, pure and undeniable. They are set down in the book fate has already written for the two of them.

All that is left is for them to be actualized. Angel can wait, because he knows he won’t be waiting for much longer. Soon -very, very soon - all the obstacles that stand between himself and the woman he loves will be overcome. Willow will be his and everything will be perfect.

The fire continues to burn as Angel extricates himself from his pleasant mental meanderings and gets back to the mundane matters plaguing this town, and, by extension, himself. Saving Sunnydale from whatever evil the Mayor has in mind is essential. He’s sure there’s a Slayer on the man’s payroll now, and that lends all the more urgency to the situation. Of course, Faith still has a purpose to serve, but that will be fulfilled within the hour, since he has no doubt she headed straight for Buffy the moment he and Willow started back home, leaving her completely without utilitarian value come morning.

His first thought, of course, is to take the girl out of the game completely with no delay, but that might not be the wisest course of action. Seeing as how Faith will have gone to Buffy with her suspicions about Angel and Willow, it might possibly occur to Buffy that he’s involved if Faith suddenly turns up dead, and would also serve to mark her as something other than ridiculously paranoid and obsessed with him should she share her suspicions with anyone else. That’s the downside to tonight’s events, but nothing’s perfect and if Angel can’t maneuver his way through these impediments, then he’s really not half the demon he should be anyway. He’ll think of something. He might or might not be able to kill her, but Faith’s on a short clock, whether she knows it or not. A girl like her, brash and cocky and not all there, is bound to slip up. When she does, there’ll be no one there to catch her as she falls.

Tbc...