Title: Best Wish Ever

Rated: PG-13ish

Summary: What if Angel hadn't left Buffy after Graduation?

Disclaimer: Nope don't own a thing and it's beginning to upset me *pout*

A/N: I did some wanking with canon to write this story. For example, Anya becomes a vengeance demon again shortly after The Prom.

Two     Three     Four     Five     Six     Seven     Eight

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

Anya stood in the middle of her small apartment. She threw her hands in the air and yelled up at the ceiling.

 

            “Haven’t I suffered enough? I went to Prom for Hecate’s sake! Now I have to endure an ascension! This is not fair!” She railed.

 

            She sighed in defeat as there was no answer to her rant. It was then that the air in the room contracted and she felt momentarily like she was being sucked through a straw. There was a pop and she was standing in a room that very much resembled a void. She knew it wasn’t really a void, just clever interior design. D’Hoffryn glided toward her. Anya had always wanted to learn that gliding thing.

 

            “Yes Anyanaka?” D’Hoffryn said.

 

            “I’m tired of being a twelfth grader. I’m a vengeance demon and yes I screwed up but that’s once in a thousand years. I think I’m allowed a tiny mistake,” Anya said.

 

            D’Hoffryn glanced over the girl. He made a wide circle around her. He laid his finger on his mouth and tilted his head.

 

            “You were always my favorite girl,” he said.

 

            “Yes! And I know you want me back. I’ll prove to you I can be that girl again, or vengeance demon because isn’t that the point here?” Anya said.

 

            D’Hoffryn sighed. He reached out and stroked Anya’s hair. She really was his favorite child. “Alright but no more careless mistakes like this one, Anyanaka. You really can’t afford anymore,” he said.

 

            Anya squealed and threw her arms around the demon. “I promise no more mistakes.”

 

*

 

A week post Graduation:

 

            I saw a Tsunami one time on the news. It took out an entire city. That’s what this pain feels like. If a Tsunami can take out an entire city, surely this pain can take out one girl. I know what it feels like to die, did it once, gonna make it twice. This pain is killing me, maybe not all at once, maybe not quickly like the Master but dead is dead no matter how it happens.

 

            A week, I’ve lived with this pain a week. I haven’t heard from him but I know he’s alive. I watched him walk into the smoke. He told me once that he felt it when the Master killed me, the moment I drew my last breath. It was like losing his soul all over again, only not. I know if something had happened to him I’d feel it. I’d lose my soul or maybe I’ve already lost it.

 

            There’s a soft knock on my door. I don’t turn over. I don’t sit up. I lay here on my bed and stare at my window hoping against hope that he’ll appear there like he did so many times.

           

            “Buffy, you need to eat something,” Mom says.

 

            “Not hungry,” I croak out. My voice is harsh, my throat raw from crying.

 

            Mom sighs and she walks further into my room. She sits down on the edge of the bed and I can almost feel her hand reach out to touch me even though she never actually does.

 

            “You haven’t eaten in over a week,” she says.

 

            “I’m not hungry,” I repeat.

 

            “Buffy, Mr. Giles told me that Angel left. I know it hurts now, honey but he can’t give you a real future,” Mom starts.

 

            I sit up and stare at her with dead eyes. “Without Angel I don’t have a future,” I say. I shove myself off the bed and trample down the stairs. I start running and just keep running. I can’t hear one more person tell me that it’s best that Angel left. Yeah, I told Willow that I thought Angel was right to leave. That was before I realized it would hurt this much. That was me being Slayer Buffy strong and impervious to the cruelties of this world. That was me, talking when I knew Angel was still here. It’s so much harder now to know if I go to the mansion he won’t be there. It’s harder knowing that no matter how long I linger in the cemetery he won’t show up.

 

            I told Willow more then a week ago that I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I’m past not being able to breathe. I still can’t breathe but now its worse. Now I feel like my heart won’t beat. Ever. Again.

 

            I’m wandering Sunnydale trying to find one single spot that doesn’t remind me of Angel or worse me and Angel, when the solution hits me. I take off running again as hard as I can push myself, as if one more second is going to make the difference and who knows, it could.

 

            I pound on the door of apartment 6B relentlessly. I don’t care that it’s eleven o’ clock at night.

 

            “If this isn’t world ending, I’m going to strangle someone,” I hear from the other side of the closed and locked door.

           

            When Anya opens the door she’s wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe. She has green gunk on her face. She doesn’t look much like a vengeance demon but I know she told Xander a couple of weeks ago that D’Hoffryn had taken her back. Xander has been living in fear that she’ll decide something he’s done or said will exact her vengeance. Giles, Willow and I have all tried to tell him that she can only exact vengeance if a woman wishes it so, but he doesn’t believe us.

 

            “Buffy?” Anya asks.

 

            I shove past her into the apartment.

 

            “Oh why don’t you come on in? Please disregard my total lack of invitation,” Anya says.

 

            “I want you to make him come back,” I say.

 

            Anya cocks an eyebrow at me. “Excuse me?” She says.

 

            “If you can create a world where I didn’t ever come to Sunnydale then you can create a world where he doesn’t leave me,” I say.

 

            “Ooooh, we’re talking about Angel,” Anya says.

 

            “No I’m talking about the mayor, of course I’m talking about Angel. I want him back, Anya. This. Hurts. Too. Much. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t breathe, my heart doesn’t beat and I die a thousand deaths every single second he’s away,” I say.

 

            “I could do that you know, make him die a thousand various, different and exciting ways for every single second he’s away from you,” Anya says.

 

            I shake my head. “I don’t want him dead. I want him here,” I say.

 

            “Alternate realities aren’t always what you expect them to be. I mean look at Cordelia’s wish reality. It wasn’t exactly what she thought it would be,” Anya says.

 

            I can only remember very vague flashes of what Cordelia’s wish reality had been, like a dream when you wake up and you know it was bad but you can’t remember why exactly.

 

            “I don’t care. Any reality where Angel doesn’t leave me is better then this,” I say.

 

            “Alright, you have to make a wish then and make it specific,” Anya says. She touches the necklace around her neck. It is an exact replica of the one Giles smashed.

 

            “I wish Angel had never left me. I wish Angel was still here in Sunnydale with me,” I say.

 

*

 

            “Fire bad, tree pretty,” I say to Giles.

 

            “Yes, s-sorry. I’m going to see to Wesley, to see if he’s still whimpering,” Giles says suppressing a laugh.

 

            Giles walks off and I watch him. It hits me a few seconds later that tingle tangle that takes my breath away. I turn around with a slight frown, afraid. I know he said he was leaving after this was all over. He wasn’t going to say goodbye.

 

            He’s standing in front of a fire truck. The smoke gathers around him, clamoring for his attention. My eyes mist over and I bite my bottom lip. I wage a war between celebrating that he’s alive and breaking down because he’s leaving. That indecision is the only thing keeping me on my feet right now.

 

            He stands there and looks at me like he’s waging his own war. There’s so much emotion on his face, in his eyes, I can read it even from here. There’s pain, so much pain and guilt, but most of all there’s love. Angel loving me, or me loving him, has never been the problem in our relationship. He hesitates and starts to turn his back to me. I close my eyes. I can watch the world end but I can’t watch Angel walking away from me.

 

            And then I’m crushed into his embrace. He’s murmuring into my hair. “I couldn’t leave. I’m sorry, I couldn’t leave. I need you, Buffy.”

 

            The tears I’ve been fighting for so long flood over my lashes and down my cheeks.  “I couldn’t either. I-I need you too,” I confess. 

 

            Finally the Tsunami of pain recedes, leaving puddles of hurt behind. It doesn’t matter now. I’m whole and perfect in his arms. It can’t destroy me, not while I’m in the circle of his embrace.  We stand there together, like a lighthouse in a storm. Something whispers in the back of my mind that this isn’t how it happened. This isn’t right and I remember Angel did leave me and Anya fixed it. 

 

            Slowly everyone disappears. I can see my friends converging on the lawn across the street from where the high school used to be.  They’re whispering amongst themselves and glancing at Angel and me. I don’t care. I’m not letting go of Angel. I’m afraid if I do he’ll change his mind again and leave me.  After a moment Willow walks over to us. She looks sheepishly at us.

 

            “Uhm, we didn’t want to bother but everyone wanted to make sure you were okay,” Willow says.

 

            “I’m wonderful, Will. You guys go on home,” I say.

 

            “Uhm, Xander wanted to remind you about our pre-planned post apocalyptic vid fest,” Willow says.

 

            I grin. I can imagine some of the comments that came with Xander’s reminder. “I’m gonna skip the vid fest this time, Will. We’ll do it another night,” I say.

 

            “Kay. I told Xander that’s what you’d say,” Willow says.

 

            She slinks off and a moment later the entire group heads homeward. I pull back just slightly so I can look up at Angel.

 

            “Can we go back to the mansion?” I ask.

 

            Angel nods. “I think that’s a good idea. We need to talk,” he says.

 

            I’m kind of hoping we can skip the talk about why he didn’t leave because I’m afraid it will lead to why he should. I sidestep in his arms so that I am by his side. His arm remains around my shoulders, keeping me close, unwilling to let me go. That’s fine with me. I thread my arm a bit tighter around his waist, so afraid that he’s going to walk away into the smoke, like he did before I talked to Anya.  The memories of that reality are vague but the pain isn’t. I know exactly how it would feel if Angel left. It would kill me.

 

Chapter Two

 

I’m lying on the couch in the mansion surrounded by Angel. There’s a fire roaring in the hearth. He’s cleaned up the shatters of the coffee table I broke. His fingertips glide languorously over the line of my body. I sigh in contentment. If Angel remembers the reality where he left me, he hasn’t mentioned it.

 

            “We’ll make it work, won’t we?” I ask, breaking the sacred silence.

 

            He kisses the curve of my neck where his bite mark still angry and red lies. “Somehow, we will,” he says.

 

            I close my eyes and I can’t help the tears that make their way down my cheeks. I remember I lost him. I remember I don’t ever want to do it again.

 

            “Tomorrow I’m going to have Willow start working on a way to bind your soul,” I say.

 

            Angel sighs. It’s such a big sigh that I feel his chest rise and fall beneath me.

 

            “Buffy, my soul isn’t our only problem. Even if my soul is bound, I still can’t give you children, I can’t take you into the sunlight, I can’t grow old with you,” he says.

 

            I turn in his arms and stop his words with my fingertips. “Angel, I’m the slayer. I’m already old by slayer standards. If I live to be thirty it will be a miracle. And children? Why would I want to bring children into a world where I know I’m going to die before they grow up?” I ask.

 

            Angel swallows and moves my fingers. “Most people have children so that when they die they leave a piece of themselves behind,” he says.

 

            “When I die I will leave a piece of me behind. I’ll leave the biggest piece, my heart, my soul. When I die, I’ll leave you,” I say.

 

            Angel grows quiet and still as if contemplating my death were too much for him. He wraps his arms tighter around me and pulls me into his chest. He bows his head and buries his nose in my hair. I can feel his lips moving against my scalp and I know even vampires pray.

 

*

 

            I wake up stiff, still wrapped in Angel’s arms. I point one toe and try to stretch the cramp out of my leg trying not wake up the vampire I’m tucked up against. It proves impossible. He’s awake almost before I point my toe.  He nuzzles the back of my neck and then lets me go abruptly. I swallow hard. I can feel the source of his frustration and I hop off the couch, stumbling, almost falling as the cramp in my leg seizes hold. Angel catches me by the arm.

 

            “Are you okay?” He asks.

 

            I nod. “Yeah, my leg just has a cramp,” I say.

 

            “Sit down,” he commands and guides me back to the couch we just vacated. He sits me in one corner and then sits down himself on the other end of the couch. He takes my leg in his hands and begins massaging the cramp out. I wonder if I could wake up with leg cramps every morning. Morning, crap, it’s got to be morning. It was past late, or early, when Angel and I fell asleep. Mom is sure to be back from the little trip I sent her on. I smack myself in the forehead and glance around the mansion. Of course Angel doesn’t have a clock.

 

            “We’ve got to get you a clock. What time is it?” I ask.

 

            Angel pauses a moment. “About noon,” he says.

 

            “Oh God, I’m so dead. I’m deader then dead. I’m gonna wish the mayor had eaten me,” I say.

 

            “Buffy, what’s wrong?” He asks.

 

            “Mom, she’s going to think I died,” I say and hastily jump up. I find my boots next to the couch and zip them on. I start to rush out the door and stop. I lean over and kiss Angel on the head.

 

            “I’ll be back this evening,” I say.

 

            “I’ll be here,” he says.

 

            A smile spreads over my face because I know he will. I made a wish, the best wish ever.

 

 

*

 

            My stomach sinks as I walk up the sidewalk. Mom’s jeep is in the driveway. I push through front door and decide to play the happy/dumb daughter routine.

 

            “Hey, Mom! I’m home,” I ring out.

 

            “Oh God, Buffy! You’re alive!” Mom shrieks from the kitchen.

 

            I hear a thud, the phone hitting the floor I think, and then Mom is doing a pretty good impression of slayer strength with the hugging. She finally lets go just before breathing becomes an issue.

 

            “I thought Giles would call you,” I say.

 

            “And I thought you’d be home when I got here! I thought you were dead, Buffy! Dead!” She says.

 

            I scuff my foot and glance up at her sheepishly. “Sorry, I-I didn’t want to stay over by myself,” I say.

 

            “Where exactly did you stay? I spoke to Willow earlier and Xander,” she says.

 

            Uh oh, it’s beginning to look like I’m going to have to tell the truth. This is not going to be of the good. I bite my bottom lip and take a deep breath.

 

            “I stayed at Angel’s. I didn’t intend too. We were talking and fell asleep,” I say quickly.

 

            Mom gets that patented “Mom” look. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans all her weight back on one foot. “You never intend to stay over at Angel’s and yet it happens more often then I care to know,” she says.

 

            I sigh and the wave of exhaustion overtakes me. It’s just all too much to deal with, Angel leaving, Angel staying, alternate realities and the fact that I’ve done this all before, without the Angel part that is.

 

            “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t realize you’d be back so soon and worried,” I say honestly.

 

            Mom looks resolved for a moment and then she melts. She rests her hand on my cheek. “I’m just glad you are alright. Get some sleep, you look exhausted,” she says.

 

            I smile weakly and nod. “Thanks. I am.”

 

            I trudge up the stairs to my bedroom, wonderful bed. I love my bed. I shed my clothes and notice they still smell smoky from the battle last night. I hope I don’t have to burn them. I really like the leather pants. I slip on a clean tee top and pajama bottoms and slide under the blankets. Honestly, I think I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.

 

*

 

            I wake up with this start.  My heart is hammering in my chest and I *have* to get over to Angel’s to make sure he hasn’t left. I throw on overalls and a tee shirt. Mom is gone to the gallery. I run all the way to the mansion and burst into the great room (what Angel calls it) with enough force that I almost stumble and fall. Angel comes out of his bedroom tugging on a shirt.

 

            “Buffy, what’s wrong?” He asks. His voice is full of concern and worry.

 

            I shake my head and try to keep myself from hyperventilating. I rest my head in my hands, suddenly very aware of the cat on my head I forgot to kill before running here. That brings to memory the post slayage nap Angel and I took just before he broke up with me, just before my whole world came shattering down and I can’t help the tremble that courses through my body.

 

            Angel steps closer to me and brushes the hair off my face with a gentle hand. I want to cling to him, to wrap myself around him but today we’re back in the real world. The no touching rule applies.

 

            “I was just scared,” I start and stop because it sounds rather silly to be saying it out loud.

 

            “That I’d be gone when you got here,” he finishes for me.

 

            I nod. “Not that I’m complaining, because complaint free really, but what made you decide to stay?” I ask. I have to know if it is purely Anya’s power holding him here and it seems easier to discuss these things by the light of day, at least I know he’s going to be held prisoner here for a few more hours by the daylight.

 

            Angel steps away from me. He sits down on the couch. I go and perch tentatively next to him.

 

            “All those things I said in the sewer, they’re still true-“ he starts and stops.

 

            “And all the things I said, they’re true also. I’m never gonna change, Angel. I can’t change. For the rest of my life, together or apart, I’m gonna love you,” I say.

 

            Angel nods. “I know because I feel the same way and I was prepared to leave anyway, because I thought it was what was best for you.  I’m still not sure it isn’t what’s best, but when you almost died to save me, I realized you need me as much as I need you. I could sacrifice my need to give you a better life, but I can’t sacrifice yours.”

 

            I lay my hand on his cheek. I can’t help touching him. I know I’m not supposed to, I know the slightest touch puts us into that danger zone. I don’t have any words to say to him. I don’t know how to respond to what he told me. He needs me and he’s not leaving. Best. Wish. Ever.

 

Chapter Three

 

I’m slammed up against the Alpert crypt and the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. I struggle but lack of air is becoming an issue. I scrabble for a hold, anything I can do to injure the vamp holding me hostage against the crypt. I scratch at his eyes and he howls but doesn’t loosen his hold.

 

            “Angel!” I manage to croak out and suddenly I’m coated in a fine layer of vampire dust. I drop to a crouch and gasp for breath. Angel is crouching beside me in an instant. He brushes the dust off my face, his fingers lingering on my cheekbones, my lips.

 

            “Are you okay?” He asks.

 

            I nod and let him help me to my feet. He leads me through the cemetery by the elbow. We stop just outside the gates and I lean against the wall. Angel pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear.

 

            “Thanks for the save-age back there,” I say.

 

            “They kind of ambushed us,” Angel says.

 

            “Yeah, well we were kind of easy bait,” I say.

 

            Angel and I have settled back into our old routine.  Cemeteries, slayage, make outage, me and Angel just kind of all go together like chocolate chip cookies and milk. It’s been two months since graduation, two months since Angel almost left me, but didn’t.

 

            “Come on, lets go report back to Giles,” I say.

 

            Angel nods and we walk back to Giles’ house, the new scoobie central, our hands loosely knitted between us. Angel and I have given up trying to not touch. It seems to make things worse, so we’ve kind of settled on little touches, nothing to pushy or overtly sexual, which means that sometimes even holding hands is out of the question

 

            “Buffy, “ Angel asks.

 

            “Huh?” I ask and glance up. I notice I’m standing in front of Giles’ door, from the way Angel is looking at me; we’ve been standing here for a while.

 

            “Where were you?” He asks.

 

  “I was-nothing,” I say.

 

            “Thinking about the vampire in the cemetery?” He asks.

 

            Oh yeah, but not the vampire he means. I just nod a little.

 

            “Buffy, you’ve been kind of shaken up since graduation. Are you sure you’re okay?” Angel asks.

 

            I sigh. I should have known he’d notice. Yeah, I’ve been shaken up. I’ve also been kind of putting myself at risk. It’s like this, on the nights when Angel has to save me and my life is in danger, he’s more cuddly, clingier, more content to just touch me or hold me. It’s worth a little danger to be held in his arms all night.

 

            “I’m fine, really. Just off my game I guess,” I say.

 

            Angel looks at me perplexed a bit longer and then nods. I push open the door to Giles’ apartment and walk in, Angel following close at my heels.

 

            “Hey gang,” I say with a slight smile and slump down on the couch. Angel perches a bit uncomfortably next to me. He hasn’t ever really gotten comfortable with my friends or Giles after the whole Angelus episode. I guess I don’t blame him. Angelus did murder someone close to or try to murder everyone in this room, except me. He never tried very hard to murder me. I’m not sure why, and that’s a contemplation for another time. It’s not important anyway. Angelus is never getting out again, especially if Willow and Giles have anything to say about it. They’ve been researching the curse pretty much full time since graduation.

 

            “How was patrol?” Giles asks.

 

            I glance over at Angel, trying to warn him not to say anything. I paste on my brightest smile and say “it was good. We found some vamps; the cemetery has a new layer of dirt. I’m helping to combat the erosion problem.”

 

            Giles chuckles. “Very good then, Willow and I have been doing some research. I believe we may have found something of interest,” he says.

 

            I arch my eyebrow and I feel a quiver all the way down to my toes. My insides are jelly in that not so good Oh-god-I’m-gonna-puke kind of way. I take a deep breath.

 

            “What did you find?” I ask and then immediately want to take it back. Is this how it feels when all your dreams are coming true? If it is how does anyone survive to live them?

 

            “Willow found a very interesting bit of text. It’s quite ancient dating all the way back to the Roman times.  You are familiar with the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the round table I suppose?” Giles asks.

 

            I furrow my brow and nod. “Yeah, Guinevere and Lancelot and the whole falling in love thing. It’s a myth isn’t it?” I say.

 

            “Actually, as in most myths, there is truth rooted in it. In Scotland the Romans encountered a tribe of barbarian like people called the Scottish-Celtic Picti, or painted,  tribe. Some actually believe Guinevere, the real Guinevere, belonged to this tribe-“ Giles continues.

 

            “Okay with the history lesson, Giles. Slayer gonna die of a heart attack here if you don’t get to the point,” I say.

 

            “Yes, of course.  In any case this Picti tribe painted symbols on their bodies before going into war. They believed one of the reasons the Romans were so strong and so successful was because they collected the souls of the fallen.  One of the common symbols the Picti painted on themselves was a symbol to bind their souls,” Giles says.

 

            I stare at him open mouthed. It takes me a moment to find the words. “Did it work?”

 

            “Actually, I’ve examined the ritual and the spell behind the symbol. I see no reason why it would not work,” Giles says.

 

            I bite my bottom lip and force my body to stop trembling.  I feel like putting my head between my knees. I glance over at Angel; he is literally stunned into silence.

 

            “S-so how often would Angel have to recast this spell and paint this symbol?” I ask.

 

            “Actually, I was rather thinking, if Angel didn’t mind, that we’d cast the spell once and tattoo the symbol permanently upon him,” Giles says.

 

            Okay….so breathing is good; slowing your heart down to a manageable rate is good. I’m gonna be sick.

 

*

 

            “Buffy,”

 

            I struggle against opening my eyes and even as I do a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. There’s only one person on the face of this earth, probably only one person in the entire universe, in any dimension, that says my name like that. I struggle to sit up and his hands are soft on my shoulders, propping me up.

 

            My eyes flutter open and Angel is hovering over me, worry creasing his face.

 

            “I’m okay, I’m okay, just need air,” I say.

 

            Angel sweeps me up in his arms and hustles me outside where I take great big gulps of salt scented night air.

 

            “Oh God, what happened?” I ask.

 

            Angel presses the back of his hand against my forehead.

 

            “I can’t tell if you have a fever or not. You always feel so hot to me,” he says.

 

            “Angel, what happened?” I ask again.

 

            “You fainted,” he says as though it’s a very simple and yet frightening thing.

 

            I shake my head slightly. “No, I don’t faint; well except for the time with the voices,” I say.

 

            The worry slowly bleeds out of Angel’s face. I can see the others clamoring over each other, faces pressed to the window.

 

            “We’d better go back inside,” I say.

 

            I stand on shaky legs, grabbing Angel’s forearm for support. I’ve never felt this unstable. A wave of dizziness grabs me again as I remember Giles saying he could make Angel’s soul permanent. This is what I wanted, this is what I’ve hoped for but I never ever imagined that it would really happen.

 

            Once inside Giles’ living room I walk on my own power, gotta keep up the slayer image and all you know. I make it all the way across the living room and to the couch without a stumble or mishap.  Yay me!

 

            “Okay, so let’s take it from the top. You can make Angel’s soul permanent, as in no more Angelus, no more curse, no more psycho boyfriend issues?” I say.

 

            Angel glances down at the floor and immediately I feel like a guilty, insensitive lout. I reach over and grab his hand. I give it a squeeze, apologizing to him with my eyes.

 

            “Sorry,” I whisper too low for anyone that doesn’t have vampire hearing to catch. He nods in response and gives me a very small smile.

 

            “I believe so,” Giles says.

 

            “Okay, believe so and make it so are a little different, Giles. Angel and I are needing some reassurance here,” I say.

 

            “Buffy,” Angel starts and then stops. He’s afraid to hope too.

 

            “I can’t say for sure until it’s been tried. We don’t know that the Romans ever tried to collect souls. It was a Picti superstition; however it was one they believed in strongly. They never went into battle without these symbols painted upon their bodies. If they believed that strongly in it, I would wager the magic behind the superstition is just as strong,” Giles says.

 

            I grab Angel’s hand in mine and squeeze it tightly. He squeezes back.  “Okay, so Angel gets a new tattoo and then what?” I ask, swallowing fear and doubt with difficulty.

 

            “Well, I-I- that is you and Angel-Angel has a moment of perfect happiness and-and” Giles falters, turns bright red and then removes his glasses for a severe cleaning.

 

            I blush all the way to the roots of my hair. I don’t look up but from the amount of fish gasping going on in the room I’m betting Willow is blushing too. I’ll be eternally grateful that Xander is gone on a donut run.

 

            “And if An-if it doesn’t work,” I ask.

 

            “You stake me,” Angel says.

 

            I whirl and nail him with a wild gaze. “No, I can restrain you and Willow can recurse you,” I say.

 

            “Buffy, do you really think Angelus will allow that to happen?” Angel asks.

 

            Tears well up in my eyes and I swallow them down. I look up at him and everything wears a tear glossed façade. “I can’t kill you again, Angel” I whisper. My voice is so thick and knotted with tears that I can hardly understand myself.

 

            Angel reaches out to caress my face. His thumb glides over my cheek, catching the single tear that falls. He doesn’t say anything because he can’t. The pain makes it too hard to talk.

 

            “I’ve researched this for a solid week. I’ve put in countless hours of study. I believe this will work,” Giles says.

 

            I nod, my eyes never leaving Angel’s. “It’s your choice. Is it worth it?” I ask.

 

            Is it worth it? The chance for Angel and I have a future without the burden of a stupid Gypsy curse. That’s worth almost anything, almost but I won’t kill him. I did it once and I thought it was going to kill me

 

            “When do we try it?” Angel asks, his eyes never leaving mine. The worry and fear fills his eyes but lurking there, swirling around in all that worry and fear is love. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only one who sees it.

 

            “I ordered the supplies a few days ago. They came in this afternoon. We could perform the ritual tomorrow evening,” Giles says.

 

            Tomorrow, oh God, tomorrow. I thought we’d have a few days to think about it, to get used to the idea of a permanently souled Angel or the prospect of Angelus’ return. I’m not ready, I’m not ready. I’m really not ready for this. What was it Whistler told me? The big moments are gonna happen. You can’t help that. It’s what you do afterwards that counts.

 

            This is definitely a big moment and if it’s a test from the Powers that includes killing Angel again, I’m so gonna fail but at least my last memory will be me and Angel and perfect happiness.

 

Chapter Four

 

We’ve pushed the furniture up against the walls and rolled up the rug. Giles’ living room smells smoky and woodsy, a little like Angel himself, from the incense burning. Giles has laid out a circle on the hard wood floor of blessed salt. I don’t know why rituals and spells always call for blessed circles. I guess I should, considering all the ones I’ve been a part of. Willow and Xander are here, it’s odd their both strangely silent.  I guess I am too so it doesn’t matter.

 

            “Alright then, are we ready to begin?” Giles asks, breaking the silence.

 

            Angel nods and we all fall into our places. Angel sits cross legged in the center of the circle. Willow sits behind him, and Xander to his right. Giles sits in front of him and Angel pulls me down in front of him just a little to the left. Giles rearranges the things in the circle so he can reach them easier.

 

            “This,” he says raising a bottle of pale blue ink, “is ink made from the Woad plant. It is traditionally the plant the Picti used.”

 

            Angel nods and begins unbuttoning his shirt. I gulp. I didn’t realize this ritual was going to include half naked Angel.

 

            “The ritual will work much like the ritual Ethan performed on you that time with Eyghon,” Giles says looking at me. I nod.

 

            “Are we sure the spell to make the tattoo permanent won’t interfere with the one to bind the soul?” I ask.

 

            “The spell to make the tattoo permanent does just that and nothing more. There’s no danger combining the two.  However,” Giles says turning to Angel, “I’m afraid there will be quite a bit of pain.”

 

            Angel nods. I ball my hands into fists. I remember how much it hurt when Ethan tattooed me, but Angel’s a vampire. He’ll be fine, at least that’s what I tell myself.

 

            “Have you decided where you want the tattoo?” Giles asks.

 

            Angel nods and his eye catches mine. “Yeah, over my heart,” he says.

 

            My breath catches as he slides the left half of his shirt off. Angel is beautiful.  Giles dips a paint brush into the ink.  It seems like the entire room is holding its breath while Giles paints an intricate symbol on Angel’s chest. It looks like an infinity symbol inside of an octagon. Once Giles is through he traces the symbol with his finger and recites something in Gaelic. Angel is murmuring words along with him and I wonder if Gaelic is a language he spoke when he was human.

 

            The symbol burns brightly and Angel grimaces and grits his teeth against pain. I automatically reach my hand out and grasp his. He squeezes my hand and opens his eyes, smiling tight lipped at me.  He nods at me and I nod back.

 

            Giles takes a stick of some kind of herb and lights it on fire.  He waves it in front of Angel and then lays it in a small wooden bowl. He says something else in Gaelic that has the phrasing of a spell. He sounds like he’s pleading to some ancient gods in an ancient language, which I suppose is pretty accurate.

 

            I thought the silence in the room was complete before, but once Giles finishes his spell it goes utterly, thickly silent, like it has texture like yogurt but warm so maybe oatmeal or Crème of Wheat. I’m afraid to move even. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life.  Angel’s back arches and he goes limp, still sitting and then the room is normal, the silence isn’t magical or cloistering.  I scuttle over to Angel, my hands running over his chest, his shoulders and arms and his brand new tattoo.

 

            “Is that it?” I ask Giles.

 

            “That’s it,” Giles says.

 

            And all the air leaves my lungs and I jerk my hands away from Angel’s skin.  Now I can touch him and it’s all too overwhelming. I can tell it is for Angel too, because he draws away from me and hastily buttons up his shirt.

 

            “So, what now,” I ask dry mouthed.

 

            Giles takes his glasses off and begins cleaning them.

 

            “You and Dead boy make with the happy and God I need my brain scrubbed,” Xander says.

 

            Willow smacks Xander on the arm and blushes bright red. Xander grumbles and rubs his arm. God, could the floor please swallow me up right now.

 

            “Uhm-Angel and I-we’re gonna go,” I say. I leap to my feet a bit too quickly and even slayer grace can’t make up for me. I stumble and fall on top of Angel, yeah this couldn’t get any more embarrassing. I blush deep enough that I can feel the heat radiating off my skin. Angel’s hands close around my biceps, the only thing keeping me from falling with all of my weight on him. I bury my nose in his chest and think maybe I’ll just sink into him and disappear.  Angel chuckles and wraps his arms around me.

 

            “Buffy, we’ll be a lot less conspicuous if we get up off the floor,” he whispers in my ear.

 

            He hauls me up off the floor with him and sets me on my feet, making it seem graceful somehow.

 

            “I’ll have Buffy call you later,” Angel says to Giles.

 

            “Bye,” Willow squeaks.

 

            “Don’t have too much fun!” Xander yells, prompting me to blush again.

 

            Angel herds me out of Giles apartment and we make it to the street before I pull away, able to finally walk on my own.

 

            “OH God, I have never been more embarrassed in my entire life,” I say.

 

            Angel tucks his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, that was kind of embarrassing.”

 

            “I’m sorry, we don’t have to-“ I stop.

 

            “Yeah the expectations-I don’t know if I can live up to that,” he says.

 

            “Oh please, I remember enough-“ I stop. The blush is becoming a good look for me.

 

            Angel shakes his head. I know if he could blush, that he would be right now.

 

            “Can we-can we just go back to the mansion and you hold me? No expectations, no forced perfect happiness, just you holding me and no rules about having to not touch or not want,” I say.

 

            Angel nods and smiles. He holds his hand out to me and my fingers intertwine with his. We walk back to the mansion, comfortableness settling around us like my favorite pair of pajamas.

 

            We get back to the mansion and Angel makes a fire. We settle down in front of it on a blanket. Angel’s arms wrap around me and I lean back into his chest. I take a deep breath of Angel. There’s no other place in this whole wide world I’d rather be anytime then right here. I can’t help but drift back to that half remembered, hazy night when Angel walked away from me.

 

            “Best wish ever,” I murmur.

 

            “What?” Angel asks, even though I know he heard me.

 

            I shake my head. “It’s nothing,” I say.

 

            Angel rests his cheek against the crown of my head. “Buffy, perfect happiness, right here, right now. It wasn’t the sex. It was you and falling asleep with you in my arms, thinking that I never had to let you go,” he says.

 

            Tears fill my eyes. “Now you don’t,” I whisper.

 

Chapter Five

 

AN: The Poem is She Comes Not by Herbert Trench

 

 

 

I wake up to cool, soft lips stringing kisses along the column of my neck. I smile and moan softly. I open sleepy eyes and am rewarded with the sight of Angel shirtless.

 

            “Hmmm, you sure know how to wake a girl up,” I purr.

 

            “I haven’t even begun,” he growls. His voice sounds decadent and rife with want. 

 

            He tickles my ear with cool breath and his nimble fingers push my shirt up my abdomen. His fingertips graze my skin causing arcs of electricity to jump across the expanse of now bare skin. I arch up into his hands, his body, straining to get closer.

 

            I run the palms of my hands across Angel’s back. I know he likes me to touch him with as much of myself as I can, as much of my hands, my lips, my body. I understand. The more of me that’s touching him the more it seems we’re one person, one body, one entity and that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

 

            He does that rumble purr in his chest that I love so much. It resonates deep inside of my body.  In one graceful, fluid, Angel-y movement, he sweeps me into his arms and up off the couch. His mouth never leaves mine. He nibbles at my lips and then apologizes with his tongue.  He carries me into his bedroom and lies me on the bed, the bed we made love in the one and only time.  He hovers over me, fingertips slipping over the features of my face as if he could commit them to touch memory.

 

            “She comes not when Noon is on the roses/Too bright is day/She comes not to the soul til it reposes/From work and play/But when the Night is on the hills, and the great voices/ Roll in from sea/By starlight and candle-light and dream-light/She comes to me,” Angel whispers reverently.

 

            Tears choke my throat. “Angel,” I whisper. It’s all I can manage in this moment.

 

            “Wait, I want to look at you,” he whispers back afraid this moment will shatter.

 

            “And I need to touch you,” I say.

 

*

 

            I watch him sleep. I ache to touch him and yet I don’t. I know that one touch would wake him and I’m not ready to spoil this yet.  Angel mumbles something incoherent in his sleep and turns slightly. I can see his new tattoo fresh and bright blue. The infinity symbol is positioned directly over his heart. I can’t help it. I reach out and trace that infinite sideways eight. Angel smiles lazily and wraps his fingers around my wrist. He kisses the pulse point and opens his eyes.

 

            “Hey,” I say.

 

            He doesn’t say anything, just tangles his fingers in my hair behind my head and pulls me into a kiss. We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.

 

*

 

 

            “Buffy?”

 

            I jerk awake. Angel’s already on his feet beside me, tugging on his pants.

 

            “Just a second, Will!” I shout back and nearly fall out of the bed. I search in vain for my clothes.

 

            “Angel, where’s my shirt?” I hiss.

 

            He shakes his head and grabs a tee shirt of his out of the dresser. He tosses it to me. “I’ll go see what she wants,” Angel says.

 

            I jerk on Angel’s tee shirt and my own pants. My underwear are hopelessly lost. I stumble into the living room.

 

            “She’s-uhm-just getting dressed,” Angel says.

 

            “She’s all dressed. Hi, Will,” I give a little wave and try not to blush. Willow’s face is approximately the color of her hair.

 

            “We-w-we got worried. Uhm, we hadn’t heard fr-from you, but you’re not dead or you know, anything so-uhm, I guess the spell worked,” Willow squeaks out.

 

            I giggle slightly. “Soul’s intact, Will. Tell Giles it worked like a charm and I’ll go patrol tonight and check in with him tomorrow,” I say.

 

            “Kay, and uhm-your Mom is sort of calling, asking about you. I told her you stayed last night with me and you were training with Giles now.  You’re gonna kinda want to check in with her though,” Willow says.

 

            Oh God, Mom, I completely forgot about her. She’s kind of used to the slayer gig and the weird hours but she worries more then she did now that she knows I could be out there dying.

 

            “Thank you, Will. I’ll talk to her later,” I say. Will is just about the best friend I could have ever.

 

            “Kay, I’m gonna-uhm go,” Willow says and backs out of the mansion.

 

            Angel’s arms go around my waist and pull me closer to him. “So, patrolling?” He asks rumbly grumbly against my neck.

 

            “Yeah, wanna come with?” I ask.

 

            “Always,” he says.

 

           

*

 

            Spinning back kick, drop into a crouch, kick up, snap kick to the vamp’s jaw. He stumbles back into a crypt. I slam a fist into his face and a stake into his heart. The vamp dust rains around me.

 

            Another vamp leaps over the cemetery wall and onto Angel’s back. He’s already battling one of his own.

 

            “Angel!” I scream and cover the distance to him in a couple of long strides.  I land a kick into the back of the vamp’s kneecap, making him stumble and fall to his knees. It gives Angel a chance to concentrate on the guy on his back.

 

            I spin and kick the vamp in the temple. His head snaps back and I hear bone break. His neck is broken but he’s not dead. I shove a stake through his heart just as Angel flips his vamp over his head and onto his back. He drops to his knees, stakes the vamp and gets up, brushing his hands off.

 

            “That was fun,” I say.

 

            “We need to talk to Giles,” Angel says. His voice has that all business, bad omen, apocalypse now tone that was so common when I first met him.

 

            “Why? What’s up, Angel?” I ask.

 

            “I’ll tell you when get to Giles,” he says and takes off, leaping over the cemetery wall to the road.  I don’t have any choice but to follow him.

 

*

 

            “I don’t think the third vampire was with the first two we found. He-he smelled different and he spoke Spanish. When he jumped him he said ‘La muerte negra viene y tomará ustedes’,” Angel says.

 

            “The Black Death is coming and it will take you all,” Giles says after a moment.

 

            Angel nods.

 

            “No, we can’t have an apocalypse. We just had one. Mayor ‘I wanna be a great big snake’ Wilkins, remember?  Don’t they have like a ninety day waiting period or something?” I ask.

 

            “I guess this guy forgot to mark his calendar,” Xander says.

 

            “Okay, so research?” Willow asks.

 

            “Research,” Giles confirms.

 

           

 

            I let out a jaw cracking yawn and cover my mouth. Angel gives me a lopsided grin but the heat in his eyes tells me that he wishes we weren’t here, wishes we were anywhere but here.

 

            “La Muerte Negra, The Black Death, is a vampire. In life he was a famed Matador. He was turned in 1861. He was last heard of in 1933, he massacred some tourists at the running of the bulls. He was believed dead, killed by a mob in Spain,” Giles says.

 

            “You know, the watcher’s council really needs to update their information, or pay more attention to what’s going on in the underworld. They don’t hear from a vamp in a while and they assume he’s dead,” I say.

 

            Angel stands up and begins pacing Giles’ living room. He’s got something face and I know he knows more about this black death guy then he’s telling.

 

            “Ok, fess up, Angel,” I say.

 

            Angel quirks an eyebrow at me and sighs. “I don’t know what he wants or where he is, but I remember when he was turned,” he says.

 

            “I knew you got major neck in your day, but I thought you went for the more delicate sort of neck,” Xander says.

 

            Angel shoots him a look at would make another demon quake in his shoes. Xander stuffs a handful of cheese puffs in his mouth.

 

            “I do-that’s not important. I didn’t turn him, Drusilla did,” Angel says.

Chapter Six

 

Angel and I are doing the patrol thing through the cemeteries. He’s been doing the hitting up Willy thing for information about Drusilla. As far as Willy knows, Dru is no where near Sunnydale, so one old, crazy vamp with a Spanish accent is all we have to worry about.

 

            “So, any reason your relatives keep showing up, other then its fun to make the slayer’s life miserable?” I ask, breaking the silence that’s kinda reigned since we started patrol.

 

            Angel shrugged. “Dru…with the exception of Spike, when Dru sired people, she tended to just leave them. More often then not, Angelus ended up taking care of the responsibilities of a sire.  Drusilla and I had a fight over this guy. I didn’t want to take on any more family members and I told Dru that she couldn’t bring him with us. I expected her and Spike to stay behind, catch up with me and Darla, later. She didn’t. She left Spain when we did and her new vamp was only a week or so old. I think he’s bitter, maybe he blames me for taking his sire away from him. He caught up with us later, maybe two or three years later. Angelus took him under his wing then, but he had to learn a lot of things on his own,” he said.

 

            I wrinkle my nose. “All these possessive, territorial traits make slayer life a little difficult,” I say.

 

            “I haven’t heard from him since we left Spain. I had no idea he was even still alive but you’ve got to be careful, Buffy. Most vamps that are left to their own like that don’t make it, the ones that do tend to be particularly vicious,” Angel says.

 

            “I know just call me Buffy the Care girl,” I say flippantly.

 

            Angel tugs me to a stop in the middle of the cemetery. He places his fingers under my chin and tilts my head up so I have to look him in the eye. He doesn’t realize how it takes my breath away to look at him like this, full contact Angel gazing kind of knocks me for a loop.

 

            “I mean it, Buffy. I-you’ve got to be careful. I know you want to relax a little after the thing with the mayor, but we can’t not until this guy is taken care of,” Angel says.

 

            “I get it, Angel. You and Giles teaming up for Slayer Lecture Series?” I ask bitterly. It’s not like I haven’t been doing this job for almost four years now and yeah I died once but I got up and kept doing the job.

 

            “Buffy, I don’t want to lecture you. I just want to make sure you’re safe,” Angel says.

 

            “I’m the slayer, Angel. I don’t get to be safe! Risking my life to save the world is my destiny! Or haven’t you gotten the memo yet?” I scream and take off running. I run blindly through the tombstones and hurdle the fence surrounding the cemetery like a pro. I run until I’m gasping for breath. I come to a stop, crouching on my haunches. The backs of my legs are burning and my lungs are tight. I glance around me. I’ve run practically all the way across town to the docks.

 

            Angel doesn’t follow me. He knows when I need my space and he’s probably really not looking forward to a pummeling, which he would most likely get if he walked up on me now.  I understand the whole protective much attitude but there’s only so much a girl can take. I get it from Giles constantly. I get it from my Mom. I can’t take it all the time from Angel too.

 

            I walk home slowly and climb up the tree to my window. Angel’s somewhere near by, I can feel him and it’s kind of nice knowing even when I’m bitchy to him he cares enough to make sure I get home safe.  I climb in bed and fall asleep with that special Angel-sense curling warm and soft in my belly. I love my Angel-sense, wouldn’t trade it for all the regular slayer vamp senses in the world.

 

 

*

 

 

            It’s weird to be researching in Giles’ house. I’m just so used to the library but hey kinda blew that up so no library for Buffy. Anyway, we’re all lying around in various positions of relaxation in Giles’ living room. Some of us are at least pretending to read (me) while others are blatantly snoring (Xander).

 

            “It’s useless, I can not concentrate with that noise,” Giles mutters and glares at Xander who doesn’t miss a beat in the snoring.

 

            Angel is pacing and reading. He wanders over near the couch where Xander is sprawled and pauses. This great guffaw of laughter explodes out of me when Angel drops his book on Xander.

 

            “Gah!” Xander wakes with a scream. He glances around the room wildly. “Wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t sleeping, hey! Who threw a book at me?”

 

            “Sorry, must have dropped it. I’ve been butter fingers lately,” Angel says dryly.

 

            Xander mutters something about ‘dead boy’. I’m sure Angel caught every word with the super natural hearing and all. He gives him this glare that he hasn’t yet realized Xander is immune too.

 

            “Okay, I’m feeling the need for a massive sugar rush. Any one game for snack food?” Xander asks.

 

            We all pitched money in and Xander took off for the food mart to purchase high sugar and even higher caffeine count products. It helps with the brain activity when you’re working on less then four hours a sleep a night, which has sadly become normal for me.

 

            Xander returns with Twinkies and colas which we scarf down pretty quickly. I think I’ve had OJ today and a couple of bottles of water. Evil, evil, toil and trouble don’t make for good appetites or healthy eating habits.

 

            I gave up the research a long time ago, now I’m just staring at Angel. He’s much yummier to look at then a musty old book, ‘specially since now we don’t have to stop at looks at clandestine kisses. A smile curves my lips and I stand up and stretch, knowing Angel is watching me out of the corner of his eye. I cover my mouth in a fake yawn.

 

            “Sorry, guys, I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m going to make a last cemetery sweep and hit the sack,” I say.

 

            Angel puts his book down and steps up beside me. “I’ll walk you,” he says.

           

            I look at him from beneath my lashes and do that thing with my mouth that Willow says boys like.  Honestly, in my experience when it comes to girls 18 or 245+ boys are all the same. Three steps outside Giles’ apartment we’re in each other’s arms, hands roaming, mouths taking and giving. I will never in a million years get tired of the way Angel kisses. It’s like he touches something deep inside me, things that aren’t supposed to be touched and it feels…amazing.

 

            Angel has me pushed up against a crypt, suckling at my collarbone when I realize the cemeteries aren’t going to get patrolled, not tonight. After that, there’s a lot less thinking and a lot more removing of clothing.

 

            “Not the best position for a vampire slayer to be caught in,” I gasp while Angel is trying to take off my bra. He always has problems with it. He says in his day they didn’t have clasps and snaps like that, there were ties.

 

            “Yeah, sorry, mansion,” he mumbles and sweeps me up off the ground and into his arms. I bite his neck, right there were shoulder and neck meet. He growls and it’s almost funny how fast he makes it to the mansion. I nip at his collarbone, and bump my teeth on the actual bone when he almost drops me.

 

            “Crap, Angel, are you okay?” I ask slipping from his arms.

 

            He swallows hard and I follow his eyes. There’s a dead girl lying in front of his fire place, her neck torn out.

 

            “Oh God,” I breathe and creep closer. Angel is standing three feet away from the body trembling.  

 

            I get closer and I know why Angel is freaking out, other then the obvious dead girl in his house. There’s blood all over the floor in front of the fireplace.  A glint of gold catches my eye and I crouch beside the body, lying among all that blood is a gold coin, so not liking this scenario. I swallow hard and pick the coin up. I go into the bathroom and rinse the blood off it before showing the coin to Angel.

 

            “Its Aztec gold,” Angel says.

 

            I arch an eyebrow at him. “And that means?”

 

            “The Spanish vampire is here. He had a lot of Aztec gold on him when Dru killed him. I used to have some of it,” Angel says.

 

            I feel funny tucking the gold piece in my pocket. It has just been in a pool of blood.  Angel is still staring at the crimson stain on the floor. His eyes have bled to gold. Crap, I swallow hard and grab his wrist.

 

            “Come on, you can stay in my room tonight. We’ll cleaned this up in the morning,” I say, tugging him out of the mansion.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Giles holds the gold coin underneath a magnifying glass. He does that hmming thing that he always does when he’s thinking. I’m pacing the room with my arms crossed over my stomach and Angel is sitting eerily still on the couch. He drug himself out of bed this afternoon and made his way to Giles’ house through a series of sewer tunnels and one short dash through the sunlight into the relative safety of the living room. He smells a little smoky now but isn’t really any worse for the wear.

 

            “You’re quite sure this is the work of La muerte negra, the Black Death?” Giles asks.

 

            Angel growls low in his throat. Our first stop this afternoon was the mansion to take care of the body and blood we left there last night. Angel is cranky and I know from the way his eyes keep bleeding gold that he’s having a lot of trouble with the smell of human blood being all around.

 

            “A girl’s body shows up in my house with blood all over the place and this coin; that is not what passes for normal even in my world. He wants me to know he’s here. He’s taunting me,” Angel says.

 

            “How do you know?” Giles says.

 

            Angel growls again and turns his head away from Giles. I catch a glimpse of gold coin eyes before he shuts them tight. “Because it’s what Angelus would do,” he says.

 

            Giles clears his throat and takes his glasses off for a through cleaning. “Yes, well then Buffy, you should be extra vigilant in your patrol tonight.”

 

            I nod. “I’ll go hit Willy and see what he can tell me,” I say.

 

            Giles just nods. He’s always been kind of not crazy about the idea of sending a minor into a bar, even if it is just for information. “Perh-perhaps you and Angel should patrol separately, cover more ground,” Giles suggests.

 

            I pin him in place with a glare. I may be blonde but I’m not stupid. He knows how insano the human blood we found last night is driving Angel, couple that with the fact that he drank from me a few weeks ago…Giles is worried. I get that, but unduly so.

 

            “Let me and Angel worry about that,” I say.

 

            I’m chastened at Giles’ look. “I’m sorry, Giles, I just-it’ll be fine. Angel and I are dealing with it.”

 

            “I wouldn’t hurt her,” Angel says.

 

            “Of course not, that wasn’t even a question,” Giles says.

 

            I know he means that he’s afraid Angel will get out of control. It’s still a job for Buffy and Angel to figure out, no Watcherly input needed. It’s funny; I’m intensely protective of Angel’s demon, maybe because I know all of them with possibly the exception of Willow would kill him without a second thought.  It took me a while to realize it, but eventually I got it. There isn’t a part of Angel that I’m not in love with, his soul, his demon, everything. The others would never get that. I don’t get it, but I know it’s true.

 

            “Okay, so vigilant patrol tonight. I’m headed to Willy’s before the crowd gets there,” I say. I lean over and kiss Angel. He’s still not really comfortable with the PDA’s so I make it quick.

 

            “I love you and don’t worry about it,” I whisper so low that I know only Angel with his vampire hearing catches it.

           

            He nods and gives me a small smile. “I’ll meet you at the mansion after dark,” he says.

 

           

 

*

 

            “Well, Willy was a bust,” I say walking into the mansion. My words echo off the walls. Angel is really gonna have to put more furniture in this huge place, maybe a rug or two, something to make it less echo-y, especially now that he’s staying.

 

            Angel walks out of the bedroom with his hair all mussed. He’s shirtless, clad only in black pants and do we really have to patrol this minute?

 

            “Mmm, I like seeing you like this, all rumpled and sleepy sexy,” I purr.

 

            He gives me that little melt-my-heart half grin and pulls me into his arms. First contact with Angel always gives me the shivers, the good delicious kind of shivers.  He nibbles at my lips and I know I should be making protests about patrolling getting done. It’s early though, right?

 

 

            A couple of hours later I’m drousing on Angel’s bed completely sated and pleasantly numb. He runs a lazy hand up my spine and I don’t have the energy to do any more then smile.

 

            “You know, we promised to do an extra vigilant patrol,” Angel says.

 

            I pout. “We were vigilant.”

 

            “Just not about patrol,” Angel says.

 

            “You’re going to make me get up, aren’t you?” I pout.

 

            “Sorry, Buffy but we need to,” he says.

           

            I let out a bone deep sigh and flip over onto my back.  “Okay, getting dressed now.”

 

            Angel watches me while I get dressed with dark, hooded eyes. The lust in that look takes my breath away. He doesn’t realize how much that look makes me want to crawl back into bed and never leave. Angel has always looked at me with heat in his eyes but once we didn’t have to stop…well it got kicked up a notch or two or a billion.

 

            I pick up his pants up off the floor where he dropped them earlier and toss them at him. “Get dressed and stop looking at me like that or I’m coming back to bed.”

 

            Angel laughs. It’s a good sound, one I’m going to have to get used to but I’m not complaining. He gets out of bed like a great, sinuous cat and stands naked beside the bed for a moment. I go dry mouthed at the sight of him bare and beautiful like that. He does this on purpose. He knows exactly how it affects me. I drag my eyes up his body, inch by beautiful inch, finally meeting his eyes. There’s a mischievous twinkle I rarely see but makes me smile. I’m telling you, without a doubt, I made the best wish ever.

 

            Angel slips his pants on and grabs a shirt out of the closet.  I tear my attention away from him and finish getting dressed.

           

            Sunny Rest is the first cemetery we stop in. It’s one of the oldest ones and my favorite to patrol. It’s got all these big, gorgeous statues, tombstones and crypts in it. It’s funny though, I’ve been to this place during the daylight and its prettier at night, or maybe I’m just more comfortable with my life being shrouded in moonlight, after all that’s where all my dreams lie.

 

            I’m surprised how quiet the night is, no vamps or demons in sight. 

 

            “You’ll be starting college pretty soon,” Angel says out of no where.

 

            I nod. “Yeah, I was thinking about that the other day. I think Willow and I are gonna share a dorm room but its close enough to the mansion that I can stay there most nights,” I say.

 

            “Why don’t you just move in?” Angel asks.

 

            I stop in complete shock and look at him. My mouth opens and closes. He didn’t just-did he? I mean big here if he did. He was breaking up with me weeks ago and now….wow living with Angel…wow. “I-uh-did you just-uh-“ I flounder.

 

            Angel grins at me. “Move in with me, Buffy. I’d ask you to marry me but its better if you finish college first.”

 

            I sit down hard on the ground, head between my hands. My breath is coming is short little gasps. Angel crouches next to me.

 

            “Buffy, I didn’t mean to scare you. If you don’t want to move in with me, it’s alright. It won’t make me decide to leave you or end the relationship. I’ll understand,” Angel says.

 

            My eyes find his and I shake my head. “No, no, no-its not-it’s not that. I want-I just didn’t expect, you know?” I finish weakly.

 

            Angel brushes the hair off my forehead and tucks it behind my ear. He kisses my temple. “I know. I hadn’t planned on asking right now, but it seemed like a good idea.

 

            “Good idea? It’s a wonderful idea. Mom is gonna kind of not go for it but I’m eighteen. She can rant and yell but that’s about it,” I say.

 

            Angel nods and draws his lips into a thin line. “I could try to talk to your Mom. I don’t know that it would do any good. She knows I love you. She knows I wouldn’t hurt you but I don’t think she agrees with our relationship.”

 

            I take his hand in mine. “I don’t care if my Mom agrees with our relationship or not. It’s ours. She doesn’t have a say in it.” I’m moving in with Angel, I’m moving in with Angel. I’m going to live with Angel….wow. Sorry, having a hard time getting past that.

 

            “So do you want to move some of your things this weekend?” Angel asks.

 

            I giggle. “I want to move all my things now,” I say.

 

            “Patience, Buffy. Let it wait until tomorrow at least,” Angel says with a smile.

 

            “Amantes jóvenes, always the sweetest to eat,” a velvet, accented voice comes out of the shadows.

 

            Angel and I both jump to attention. I whip my stake out of the waistband of my pants. A tall vampire with pale skin and blue-black hair steps out of the shadows.

 

            “Angelus, I had heard you’d taken up with the Slayer. I did not believe it until I had seen it with my own eyes,” the vampire says.

 

            “Rudolpho,” Angel says. He glances at me, telling me to hold back with that one look.

 

            “I have not heard that name in over a century. I am known as the Black Death now,” Rudolpho walks closer to us. He is wearing this really cheesy, sweeping black cloak that almost drags the grass.

 

            “I’m known as Angel now,” Angel says.

 

            Rudolpho sniffs distastefully. “I had heard that also,” he says.

           

            I roll my eyes. “Okay, family reunion is good but could we get on this? I’d like to get back to the house with my boyfriend.”

 

            Rudolpho stalks closer to me. “She is quite feisty and very hermosa. I can see why you were taken with her, Angelus.”

 

            I grind my teeth. I’ll show him feisty. He moves quickly. I see a flash of silver and he’s twirling a long silver handled hard wood sword in one hand. The middle of the blade is wood but the edges are deadly sharp steel. I drop to a crouch, avoiding the down sweep of said sword. Angel throws a right cross punch, catching Rudolpho, what kinda name is that, in the jaw. He stumbles back and I slam a side kick into his gut.  He recovers a lot quicker then I would have figured. He slams the hilt of his sword into Angel’s face and knocks him to the ground.

           

            “Angel!” I scream and turn back to Rudolpho, furious. “You hurt my boyfriend,” I say with a snap kick that just grazes Rudolpho. The vampire laughs and flicks his sword up, slicing into my ankle. I stumble and nearly fall. Blood is gushing all over my new boots. Mom is so not going to be happy.

 

            Angel growls ferally and rushes the vampire. He takes him down in a tackle.  They struggle for a moment and I step back, waiting for the right time to do something. Rudolpho ends up on top of Angel. I grab a handful of his long black cloak and toss him as far as I can, aiming for a half dead tree. My aim is good; a dead branch pierces him right through the heart.

 

            “Buffy,” Angel struggles with my name.

 

            I turn and my eyes widen. Rudolpho’s wooden sword is stuck in Angel’s heart. I run, my hand reaching out to him and know I’m never gonna there time.

 

Chapter Eight

 

“Buffy?” Willow voice cuts through the inner din I’ve submerged myself in. I turn my head slightly, catching sight of her out of the corner of my very dry eyes.

 

            “Buffster! We’ve been looking for you all over town,” Xander accompanies her.

 

            I nod and notice for the first time that its daylight out. I must have been here for hours.

 

            “Buffy, what are you doing?” Willow asks, kneeling beside me.

 

            “Guarding his ashes,” I croak. My voice sounds craggy and rough.

 

            Willow’s brow furrows. “The Spanish vampire’s?” She asks.

 

            I shake my head, forming words is just too hard right now. I’m empty inside and I know it’s because my soul is gone. It left when I watched my lover die. I always knew it would, somehow I knew.  The tsunami of pain is back and it is worse now then I could have imagined. My Angel is gone, he’s not two hours away in Los Angeles where he said he was going to go. He’s not in the mansion, he’s not anywhere. He’s gone. I swallow hard, surprised I’m still able to function. A person should die from this much pain.

 

            “Oh, God, Buffy,” Willow breathes, finally realizing who’s ashes I’m guarding.

 

            “I’m missing a page or a whole book here,” Xander says.

 

            I turn dead eyes toward him and then look back at the ground, making sure the wind doesn’t toss Angel’s ashes into the air, away from me.

           

            “Buffy, come on-let’s-let’s go talk to Giles,” Willow says.

           

            I shake my head. “No, I won’t leave him.”

 

            Willow glances around desperately. She knows she can’t make me leave him if I don’t want to. She digs in her pocket for some money which she hands to Xander. She gives him instructions and then sits down on the grass beside me, at a complete loss to do anything. I’d like to cry, I’d like to give her a purpose. I can’t. Pain has carved me out inside and filled me up. There’s not any room for anything else, including crying.

 

            Xander comes back with a paper cup. Willow hands it to me silently. I start scooping Angel’s ashes, handful by handful into the cup. Tears form in my eyes and I bite my bottom lip hard enough to bring blood. Willow reaches out to help me.

 

            “No,” I say. I want to do this. I need to do this. My fingers brush something cold and metal. It’s Angel’s claddagh. The tears totter on the edge of my lashes and spill over. I close my hand around the ring, the edges bite into my palm and the blood flows. I squeeze harder and let the blood drip over the cupful of Angel’s ashes. My blood, his blood, my soul, his soul, it’s all gone now and nothing else matters.

 

*

 

            I pound on Anya’s apartment door, Angel’s claddagh still clenched tightly in my bloodied palm. It doesn’t take her as long to answer the door, of course its afternoon this time. She looks at me with wide eyes. I can imagine how I look, hair wild, face stained with tear tracks and blood.

 

            “Take it back,” I half sob.

 

            Anya arches an eyebrow at me. She glances down the hall as one of her neighbors pokes his head out. She grabs me around the arm and pulls me inside. “What?” She asks.

 

            “Take it back,” I spit.

 

            Anya shakes her head. “I just can’t do that. It’s a wish not a sweater,” she says.

 

            I swallow my sobs. “You can! You took Cordelia’s wish back. Take it back!” I scream.

 

            Anya shakes her head. “No, Cordelia’s wish was revoked because my power center was smashed. Taking a wish back isn’t an easy task,” she says.

 

            “But you can do it,” I say.

           

            Anya makes a face and shrugs a little. “I warned you about this. Vengeance demons were the reason the phrase ‘be careful what you wish for’ was created. Nothing turns out exactly the way you think it will,” Anya says.

 

            “I don’t care! Take it back!” I yell. Tears have begun a fresh course down my face.

 

            Anya winces a little.  “If-if I can take it back, things will go back to the way they were. He’ll leave you,” she says.

 

            He’ll leave you, her words echo, hanging in the air like some horrible, flesh eating insect. I shake my head and swipe at my tears.

 

            “I don’t care. Take it back. I can live a life without Angel. I can’t live in a world without Angel,” I say.

 

            “Aww that’s sweet. It won’t change anything but that’s sweet,” Anya says.

 

            I level a dead, tear filled glare at her. She sighs.

 

            “Alright, let me see what I can do,” Anya says.

 

            I nod and stand in the middle of her apartment, arms wrapped around my body to keep myself from falling apart.  I don’t want to fall apart, I can’t fall apart until I know he’s alive, somewhere.

 

            “Are you sure you want this? Once I take it back you can’t re-wish it. What’s done is done,” Anya said.

 

            I nod. “Take it back.”

 

*

 

            “Fire bad, tree pretty,” I say to Giles.

 

            “Yes, s-sorry. I’m going to see to Wesley, to see if he’s still whimpering,” Giles says suppressing a laugh.

 

            Giles walks off and I watch him. It hits me a few seconds later that tingle tangle that takes my breath away. I turn around with a slight frown, afraid. I know he said he was leaving after this was all over. He wasn’t going to say goodbye.

 

            He’s standing in front of a fire truck. The smoke gathers around him, clamoring for his attention. My eyes mist over and I bite my bottom lip. I wage a war between celebrating that he’s alive and breaking down because he’s leaving. That indecision is the only thing keeping me on my feet right now.

 

            He stands there and looks at me like he’s waging his own war. There’s so much emotion on his face, in his eyes, I can read it even from here. There’s pain, so much pain and guilt, but most of all there’s love. Angel loving me, or me loving him, has never been the problem in our relationship. He hesitates and starts to turn his back to me. I watch every step he takes away from me because he’s alive. I remember when he wasn’t. I remember not getting to him to touch him one last time before he turned to dust. I remember a paper cup full of his ashes and my blood. I remember a world without Angel in it. I watch him walk away until he disappears into the smoke, beautiful, whole and alive. Best. Wish. Ever.

 

What "what if. . .?" question would you like answered: What if Angel had stayed after Graduation Day?
Pairings (or none): Buffy/Angel
1-2 Requests: Buffy crying; mention of Angel's leather jackets
1-2 Restrictions: No slash, no pwp.
maximum rating: NC 17 if it's tasteful.