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Stealth

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Buffy was determined to give him a taste of his own medicine. Cryptic warnings and materializing from the shadows were overdramatic, even for a guy with perfect hair. And perfect cheekbones. And perfect everything. She forced her brain to refocus, reminding herself that she was not following him for those reasons. At least, not entirely. Angel being sugary eye candy was just a bonus.

He didn't seem to have a good sense of direction. Buffy had been following him for the better part of an hour and it seemed like he was wandering aimlessly. After a few more minutes, Buffy realized where he was headed. His black leather jacket disappeared behind a stone column as he entered the cemetery.

She stayed close, ducking behind headstones and sneaking between mausoleums. He wasn't doing much of anything, and Buffy found herself getting bored. She studied her nails. Her thumbnail was chipped, the white of the French tip broken off. Slaying vampires was hell on a manicure. Maybe she could convince Willow to go to the salon with her after school tomorrow.

"Stealth is not one of your strengths."

Buffy jumped and almost let out a very unslayer-like squeak. Angel was in front of her, looking down his nose at her. She quickly rose from her crouched position, but was disappointed to still be so much shorter than him. "I wasn't trying that hard," she defended.

He made some sort of breathy sound that wasn't quite a chuckle. "I can tell," he said and waved towards her outfit.

Buffy subconsciously pulled down the hem of her pink halter top. "Anyway," she said, tossing her hair behind her shoulder, "What brings you to the cemetery this fine evening?"

"Just checking on things."

His middle name must be Ambiguous. "You just hang around the cemetery until you find a juicy bit of gossip to tell me?"

"Something like that."

Buffy resisted the very strong urge to groan in frustration. His answers to her questions were never really answers. So, she wasn't going to ask. She wasn't going to let him be the one to disappear into the darkness either. Buffy turned away from him and walked off.

Her feet were hitting the ground with a little too much attitude for her to be playing it cool. She made a conscious effort to calm down the marching. After a few more steps, she dared a glance back. Sure enough, he didn't follow her. Buffy continued walking home. She was going to find out more about Angel, whether he cooperated or not.