Title: Conversations In Rome

Summary:  Angel has a weekly phone conversation with a girl in Rome. Written to coincide with each episode of Ats Season 5 starting with Damage. I just couldn't let the comment Andrew made about Buffy not trusting Angel go. That being said there are major spoilers for each episode. I tried very hard not to make any drastic changes to the episodes. Post Not Fade Away it goes the way I kinda hope it went. Rated R

Damage     You're Welcome     Why We Fight     Smile Time     A Hole In The World    

Shells     Underneath     Origin    Time Bomb     The Girl in Question     Power Play    

 Not Fade Away

 

Damage

Angel sat in his penthouse, brooding. He realized for the first time since taking over Wolfram and Hart he felt good about a case. It had been good to help a slayer again. It wasn’t his slayer, but then that was old history. He glanced down at the book he wasn’t reading and picked up the black and white picture he kept between the pages. The last time he had seen her, she looked older, weary, but there was still that smile, the one that made him forget he couldn’t go out in the sunlight.

 

            Andrew’s words flew back at him and cut deep. She didn’t trust anymore. No one in the new Watcher’s council/slayer school did. He could care less about anyone else, but She didn’t trust him. That hurt.  He would give his life, had given his life and more important things like humanity, to protect her. Sure, he was running an evil law firm now but didn’t she trust his judgment anymore. That hurt a lot more then he would like to admit.

 

            Angel sighed and looked down at the phone number he held. He had had it for several hours now. It had been a simple thing to get with Wolfram and Hart’s resources. He just wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with it. Finally he got up with a grumble and walked over to the bed. He sat down and picked up the phone, grumbling to himself “Come on, you’ve faced hell beasts, now you can’t call a girl?” It was a little more difficult then that, she was the girl.

 

            He had almost hung up. It was late in Rome, maybe she wasn’t there, or she was asleep. The words caught in his mouth when she did pick up.

 

            “Hello,”

 

            “Buffy,” It was the only word his brain could process. Her voice was achingly familiar. She sounded like home.

 

            “Angel?” He had always loved the way she said his name, like it was a question. She never quite sounded like she believed he was real, even when he had lived in Sunnydale and seen her every day.

 

            “Yeah, it’s me. I just wanted to call and see how Dana was doing.” He was stalling for time, avoiding the questions he really wanted to ask.

 

            “Oh, the LA slayer, she’s I don’t know. I talked to Giles earlier today and he says she’s pretty scared. He’s got some shaman and witches coming in to look at her tomorrow.” Buffy said.

 

            “Does he think they can help her?” Angel asked.

 

            “No one is a lost cause. We don’t give up on people, on souls. You taught me that, Angel.” Her voice is soft and quiet, thick with nostalgia.

 

            “That’s right, we save souls, we don’t give up on them. I think I’d almost forgotten that.” He said with a slight smile.

 

            “That’s why we fight.”

 

            “Listen, Buffy, Andrew said something. It’s been bothering me and to be truthful I’ve got enough things bothering me. Andrew said something about not trusting me, I mean Wolfram and Hart.” He covered quickly. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know how personal this was.

 

            “That little twit. I really should have killed him while he was evil.” She muttered.

 

            “Buffy, I would have taken care of her, until you could get up here to get her.”

 

            “I know, and Andrew was wrong. I do trust you, maybe not Wolfram and Hart because, hello evil lawyers, but you, I trust. We’ve been through too much for me not to. But here’s the deal, these slayers, they are my responsibility. I made them, ok technically Willow made them, but it’s my fault Dana is in the position she’s in. It’s my job to take care of it, to fix it.” Buffy explained.

 

            “Buffy, Dana has a lot more problems then just being the slayer, in fact you may have done more for her by making her a slayer then anything. She doesn’t feel like a victim anymore.”

 

            “No, just a mass murdering homicidal maniac.” Buffy said with a sigh.

 

            “She’s got issues, hopefully Giles can help her with them. So, Andrew said you and Dawn were in Rome?” Angel said.

 

            “Yeah, I wanted to her to finish high school and she can’t do that if we’re wandering all over the world. So I closed my eyes and picked a spot on the map. I picked Greenland first, which sounds nice, but Giles swears it’s covered in ice. Then there was Cleveland, I am so not letting my baby sister go to high school on a Hellmouth. Been there, done that, got the diploma.  So finally my fingers cooperated and picked Rome. We’ve been here four months now. I’m learning Italian. Dawn is better at it then me, a fact she never lets me forget. I’m sorry, I’m babbling. I’ll stop now.” She said sheepishly.

 

            “No, it’s actually nice. I used to love it when you told me about your day.” Angel said. Tears rushed to sting his eyes. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her voice, her perception of life, her spirit. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her.

 

            “So, things are good there?” Buffy asked hesitantly.

 

            “Things are-I don’t know. I know we’re doing good things, because I get reports on it everyday. But most days, it doesn’t feel like it.” Angel said with a sigh.

 

            “What made you want to take over an evil law firm anyway? Willow did some research on Wolfram and Hart. They represent evil in at least a dozen dimensions.” Buffy asked.

 

            “It’s complicated. At some point, life went from black and white, to all these shades of gray.” He said, thinking it had gone to shades of gray right after he’d left Sunnydale. “The resources here are endless.  I know they are up to something, no one hands over the keys to their favorite toy without a reason. I figured the best way to find out was to be on the inside.”

 

            “Makes sense. You’re being careful though, right?”  She sounded concerned, even over transatlantic phone lines. She sounded the way she used to, a thousand lifetimes ago in Sunnydale.

 

            “I am. You?”

 

            “You know me, I’m a safety girl.” She said in traditional perky Buffy fashion. “Seriously though, the evil quotient has been way down since we cratered Sunnydale.”

 

            “It’s been booming here, but then that could be because most of the evil is clients.”

 

            She laughed. God, he’d forgotten what that sounded like. It was a balm to his soul, one sorely needed right now.

 

            “Well, I’d better go. I’ve got to get Dawn up in the morning and off to school.” She almost sounded regretful.

 

            “Ok. Buffy, it was really good to hear your voice.” He couldn’t let her get off the line without knowing that.

 

            She paused. “Yours, too. I’d forgotten how good.”

 

            “Can I call you again, sometime?” he asked.

 

            “Anytime.”

 

            He hung up the phone with a smile.  Somehow she always made him feel like Popeye after he’d had his spinach.

 

 

You're Welcome

She’s dead. I didn’t believe it at first. I’ve seen the body, her body and she’s gone. I sit at my desk and stare at the view, a spectacular view she said. I don’t know if I can do this without her.  Even when she was in a coma she was always my conscience. The one voice I could count on to tell the truth, even when it hurt.

 

            ~”Tact is just saying not true stuff”~

 

            ~”I think it, I say it. It’s my way”~

 

            I smile remembering Cordy’s patented point of view. I sit here alone in this dark room and with a sudden sharp pain I realize I have no one to remind me not to brood. I bury my head in my hands. I loved her, not like I love Buffy, but she was in my heart. More importantly, she was the one person who remembered Connor. I could go sit in her hospital room and talk about him all I wanted. She was the last person on this earth I could talk to Connor about.

 

            I can’t break down, not now. I can’t break down. I close my eyes and search for the well of strength that I know exists. I just look for the light. It’s there where it’s always been, put there by an undefeatable tiny wisp of a blond. Just like her, it won’t stay dead.

 

            “Hello,” Her voice washes over me and I can handle the pain.

 

            “Buffy,” I need to say her name and I need her to say mine.

 

            “Angel,” I can hear her smile and somehow that makes me smile.

 

            “Do me a favor?” I ask.

 

            “Of course,” She says. I can hear the curiosity pique in her voice.

 

            “Just talk to me. I don’t care about what. I just need to hear you.”

 

            “Okay. Dawn is doing really well in school here. She’s got a few friends. One of them is an Italian boy 3 years older then her. We had the whole discussion about he was too old for her. She of course mouthed off and reminded me that I have so much room to talk. My prom date was two hundred and twenty four years older then me.”

 

            I smile. Somehow the years have drained away the pain of that memory and left only the joy of me holding her.

 

            “Let’s see. We went to the Roman amphitheater the other day. It was amazing. The only genuine old thing I’ve ever seen is you. That place is just ancient. You’re prettier though. Of course, I had to go back later and slay some vamps-“

 

            “Wait a minute; did you just say I was pretty?” I interrupt.

 

            “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in this life, or the next, Angel. These vamps on the other hand, I’m pretty sure they were Romans, the kind with the togas, at one point. And really, after several hundred years, changing clothes is a good thing.”

 

            She thinks I’m beautiful. I smile that half smile Cordy always called Buffy face. “Thank you.” I say.

 

            “So what’s the what? I think I could actually ask you that in really bad Italian now.” She says.

 

            “Cordy died tonight.” It feels wrong to say it.

 

            “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry.” Her voice is sincere and sounds flooded with tears.

 

            “It’s better then the way she was. I just kept thinking she’d wake up and walk in my office one day with a comment about my brooding.” I don’t bother to explain that she did, only she wasn’t really here, she never really woke up.

 

            “I’ve got a lot of free time now. Anytime you need a nudge to about brooding, I can fill the position, although not with quite the same flair. There’s only one Cordy.” She offers.

 

            There is only one Cordy. I realize I have been very lucky in my life to have known, and loved, two such extraordinary women. Buffy may be my light, my salvation, my redemption, but Cordy was my anchor.

 

            “Buffy, you know how important you are to me, don’t you?” It’s suddenly very urgent that she know.

 

            “I know.” She says somberly.

 

            My voice cracks. I can’t stop myself from echoing words to her from so long ago. “You still my girl?”

 

            “Always,”

Why We Fight

I’ve been standing in front of the windows for hours. I watched the sun set and night has fallen. I’ve got a long time until sunrise. It’s good. I need the time to think about the atrocity that I committed. The one I had almost forgotten about.  The atrocity I allowed to happen for my country. Who the hell am I kidding? I’m not even American. I’m Irish. I damned one man forever, and killed untold numbers of women and children in doing so, for what? Patriotism, the American dream and a lot of other shit that sounded good at the time.

 

            The telephone rings. I scrub my hand through my hair and consider not answering it.  I pick it up on the fourth ring.

 

            “What?”

 

            There was a pause on the line. Maybe it was the particular timbre of breath, maybe I just remember making her cry so many times that I know what it sounds like even across an ocean. “Buffy,” My voice softens instantly. I can’t help but caress her name.  It feels right on my tongue, it always has.

 

            “Sorry if this is a bad time, Angel.” Her voice finally comes over the line. It’s choked with tears.

 

            “No, no, it’s fine. What’s wrong?” Something’s happened to Dawn, or Giles or Rome is the new hot spot for apocalypses. I start making plans to send a team down there to help her. I start making notes for the trip. The last time I made a trip across an ocean it was in that damned submarine.

 

            “It’s just-a dream I had. Sort of like the ones I used to have.  It was really freaksome. There were a lot of things in it I didn’t understand. Nosferatu staked you. I don’t think it was prophecy because hey Nosferatu just a movie vamp, but it gave me the wiggins anyway.”

 

            “I’m fine Buffy. Besides, Nosferatu is all about the hissing and the drama. I could take him.”

 

            She chuckles a little and sniffs. “Of course you could. I just had a feeling.”

 

            “What sort of feeling?” I ask.

 

            She pauses. It feels like a lifetime stretches before me. “That you needed me.”

 

            I struggle with the urge to weep, to break down and confess everything to her.  I take a couple of deep breaths and try to quell the nausea in my stomach. “I always need you.” Dammit, why did I say that?

 

            There’s another pause on the line. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

 

            I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “It’s been one of those days.”

 

            “Want to tell me about it?” She says.

 

            “Not really. Tell me what you did today.” It’s a plea. I take comfort in her voice. It makes me feel like a part of her if I can share in her day. It makes it feel like she’s not thousands of miles and an ocean away. It makes me forget the horror that I’ve endured today. It reminds me why we fight.

 

            “Dawn went on her first real date tonight. The boy picked her up and everything. It’s that Italian guy that I think is too old, but he was polite. He did the dutiful meet the sister thing, brought her flowers, opened her door for her. Some guys still get it right.”

 

            I can hear the longing in her voice and I am reminded why shanshu is so important.  “Do you like Rome?” I ask instead of any of the questions I really want to know, like do you go out on dates? Do guys send you flowers?

 

            “Yeah, I do. It’s almost like being in a different era. Everything is so old here. It makes me feel, young I guess. I miss Mexican food though. I mean the pasta is great but there’s only so much spaghetti you can eat, you know? Pretty soon it all starts tasting like Chef Boyardee.”

 

            I chuckle a bit. I want to tell her come back to LA. I’ll buy you as much Mexican food as you want. I have to remember, she’s baking and I’m-I’m doing something. I’m dealing with my past, whether I want to or not. I’m figuring out where I belong.  I guess I’m baking too.

           

            “I need to try and get a few more hours of sleep here. You sound tired too, Angel. Get some sleep. Take care of yourself, for me.” The last part is but a whisper. I hear it though.

 

            “I will. And have good dreams, Buffy, for me.” I say. She’s the only one likely to have good dreams tonight. If I close my eyes I’m going to see Fred, Gunn and Wes trussed up like chickens because of something I did, someone I made, me, not Angelus. I’m going to see a vampire with only half soul that doesn’t exist in Angelus’ world or in mine.  I should have realized that at the time because I felt it. I felt a part of my soul die when I turned Lawson. A little bit of that humanity that is so far out of my reach just slipped away.

 

 

            I stand in front of necro tempered glass and watch the sun rise. There’s a temptation to throw my office chair through the window and stand in the gaping hole created and burn to ash.  I can’t. I pick up the phone to call a restaurant and arrange overnight delivery. My next call is to FTD, the international florist.  There’s a girl in Rome who needs Mexican food and flowers.

 

           

Smile Time

I sit on the bed staring at my hand, my not felt hand. Thank the Powers for that. I did something good today. I saved a bunch of little kids, and I did it, not my team of lawyers or the security team. It was me, Gunn, Wes and Fred, just like old times. Ok so I was a puppet but I was a puppet that could kick Spike’s ass.

            And then I went to breakfast with Nina. She’s pretty, she’s sweet. She understands about the demon, since she’s a werewolf three nights of the month. She likes me. I like her, but she’s not the blond I wanted to take to breakfast. And truthfully, that’s the point. She’s not that blond. She’s safe. I can take her to breakfast, or dinner or the ballet. I could even have sex with her. She won’t get me anywhere near perfect happiness. And for now, until the right blond is done baking, that’s acceptable.

            I strip off my suit and grab the cordless phone. I slip under the blankets and dial the number I know by heart now. I haven’t talked to her this week and I need my weekly dose of spinach. I take a deep breath when she answers the phone. It’s not really fair how even her voice throws me.

 

            “Buffy,” I breathe out.

 

            “Angel,” She breathes in.

 

            It’s our standard greeting. I don’t know why I don’t add a how are you onto the end of her name. I never have. I’ve always just greeted her with Buffy. I know I say her name different then any other word in any other language. It’s not a conscious thought. It’s just something that happens. The way I say her name carries the weight of my love, my pain and every other emotion I feel toward her.

 

            “Thank you for the Mexican food, and the flowers. Dawn and I devoured it all in one night.” She says. I can hear her smile over the phone.

 

            “You’re more then welcome.” I say.

 

            “You could have sent plane tickets. They have great Mexican food in California.” She says.

 

            “Would you have used them?” I ask.

 

            She sighs. “There goes my mouth and my heart getting ahead of my brain. I don’t know, honestly.  I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

            “Its okay, Buffy. I’m still figuring things out here.” I assure her. And it’s true. As much as I hate knowing she’s half way across the world, it’s good for us. Buffy and I plunged headlong into love so fast that we never had time to figure out ourselves. I know, I’m two hundred and fifty years old. I should have figured out myself a long time ago. But I really only started to live when I saw Buffy.

 

            “And how’s that going for you?” She asks.

 

            “It’s been weird. I feel better about things here now. We saved a bunch of kids this week. There were these demon puppets. I actually ended up being turned into a puppet for a little while. It was-humbling.” I confess.

 

            She laughs. “An Angel puppet? Can I get one those for Christmas? I bet you were cute.”

 

            “Har dee har har. I was just adorable, I’m sure.” I smirk. “Be a very good girl and you could get the real thing for Christmas.”

 

            “And who needs an Angel puppet when you can have living-ok unliving, unbreathing Angel.” I can hear the grin playing around her words.

 

            “Exactly.” I say with a smile. This is my favorite part of the week. “So, how’s Rome?”

 

            “Rome is great.  I never thought I’d say this, but it’s getting a little boring. You know all those times I wished for a normal life. Dawson’s Creek always made normal life look exciting. However, I have to confess my normal life is excitement free.” Buffy says.

 

            “You could always work for me. There’s never a dull moment here.” I say.

 

            “I don’t know if my resume would be up to snuff for a fancy place like that.” Buffy says.

 

            “You’re right. I’ve got at least ten applicants that have saved the world at least eight times. You’ve only done it what seven? You’ve got to stop being a slacker, Buffy.” I tease her.

 

            She laughs. I love making her laugh. “You’re right. I’m a slacker. I’ve been trying to get over that issue. There’s just not much with the slayage around here.”

 

            “There’s another Hellmouth in Cleveland.” I say.

 

            “I don’t wanna hoard the Hellmouth. It’s kind of a special experience each and every slayer should have.”

 

            “How’s Dawn?” I ask.

 

            “Dawn is good.  She isn’t going out with the guy anymore. I think there’s a new guy and this one goes to school with her. She swears she’s seen him out in the daylight and in classes. I still make her a wear cross all the time. She says I’m overreacting. I remind her that her first kiss was vampire. She reminds me the love of my life is one. We’re getting along just peachy.” She says.

 

            Love of her life? She called me the love of her life. Giddy, I think that’s what they call this. I chuckle. “Admit it Buffy, there’s no one she could bring home that would be good enough.”

 

            She sighs. “It’s true. I just want everything for her. I want her to grow up a happy well adjusted person. I want her to have everything in life that she deserves.”

 

            My mind slips back to Connor. “That’s what everyone wants for their children.”

 

            “I guess so. And you were afraid I’d never have kids. I’ve got this almost grown up teenager on my hands and I’m not really sure I want to ever do this again.” She says with a little laugh.

 

            “That’s too bad. I’d love to see a Summers baby.” The words are out of my mouth before I can take them back.

 

            “And you will. Dawn wants kids. I’m currently threatening her with death and dismemberment if she has them before she turns twenty five.”

 

            I hear Dawn in the background. “Buffy, would you get off the phone, your gelato is melting!”

 

            I smile. I can almost see them both in my mind. This is what I wanted for her. She finally got it. “Go eat your ice cream. I’ll call you again.” I say.

 

            “Promise?” she says.

 

            “Always.” I say.

 

            She hangs up the phone. We don’t say goodbye. Buffy and I have never said goodbye because we know it’s never over between us. Forever, that’s the whole point.

A Hole in the World

A/N Thanks to Ashley for helping me flesh out how I was going to write a chapter to this for a very difficult episode. Also as I have not seen or actually read many informative spoilers for the next episode, the timeline may be very screwy here. This chapter by what I felt was necessity is a bit more intrusive into the storyline then the others have been but I personally can’t see it happening any other way. Also, since we didn’t get an actual time for when they got to England, I’m placing their being in England early on in the night.  As always this is told from Angel’s point of view.

 

-Angel-

 

 

            I can’t cope with this. I can’t stand here and do nothing, but that’s what I have to do. Once again I’m being asked to sacrifice someone I love for the good of the world. How many times and how many ways can the Powers ask me to do this? Is a game they play? Maybe they have a betting pool on which one will make me crack. There was Cordy, and Connor and Doyle and now Fred.  Somehow I think Fred is the worst of all. At least with the others the sacrifice required active participation. I was doing something productive toward saving the world. This time I have to sit and wait and stare down a damn hole in the world.  I can’t do this, not if I have to sit and just wait for it to happen. I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got to do something.

 

            “The world can go to Hell.” I mutter. I almost run out of the tomb, leaving Spike to stare down at the hole in the world.

 

            Once I’m outside the tomb I take a deep breath of night air.  The cell phone in my pocket vibrates. I take it out and glance at the little screen. It tells me I have messages in my voice mail. I can’t talk to them yet. I can’t tell them that Fred has to die so that others will live. Wes and Gunn, they wouldn’t understand. No one understands. That’s not true. There is one person on this earth that has had to make these same sorts of decisions over and over again. I dial her number. She answers after a couple of rings.

 

            “Hello,” She says. She sounds distracted.

 

            I can’t speak. Unshed tears form a tight band around my throat and strangle me. I move my mouth wordlessly like a fish. Finally a sound resembling a word comes out. It’s a word that is as natural to me as breathing is to a human.  “Buffy,”

 

            “Angel,” Instantly all her attention is focused on the phone, on me. I can hear her intensity. “What’s wrong?”

 

            “I need you.” It comes out sounding raw and hard.

 

            “Of course. I’m on my way. I’ll let you know when I know about the flight.”

 

            Her immediate agreement to come to me takes my words away. She doesn’t ask why or when or where or how. She just says I’m on my way. I struggle not to fall to my knees. “No, I’m in England. The Well, tell Giles you need to get to the well.”

 

            “Hold on, Angel. I’m on my way.”

 

            The phone clicks in my ear. I smell Spike before I hear him. I turn around.

 

            “So she’s coming here, to see you?” he asks.

 

            I nod.

 

            Spike and I are both silent. Finally he speaks. “I’m gonna talk to I can not tell a lie boy and see if he’s got a place I can lay low, stay out of sight, ‘til we decide what’s next.”

 

            “Thank you, William.” It’s almost a whisper.

 

            “Don’t think this is a truce, just a cease fire ‘til we figure this one out.” Spike says before disappearing back into the tomb.

 

            In this moment, I will take what I can get.

 

 

            I don’t know how long it takes for her to get there. I know there are still hours until the dawn, hours I’m grateful for.  She walks into the field. The fog and moonlight caress her and for a moment I think I’ve fallen asleep.  I fall to my knees at her feet like a penitent man at an altar. I have held back the tears to long. They will not stay away now. I bury my face in her and sob. She tangles her fingers in my hair and I smell her tears. She doesn’t know why I’m crying but it makes her cry none the less.

 

            Once I gather my wits about myself, we move to sit against a tree. I lay with my head in Buffy’s lap, my eyes closed. I soak in her touch, her smell, her breath. I know I will go months, possibly years without ever feeling this way again. This is what will sustain me. Her fingers gild the features of my face. We have yet to speak any words. I open my eyes and look at her. I’m still not sure she’s real, gilded in moonlight and fog as she is. I cup her cheek with my hand. She leans into the touch.

 

            “Mine immaculate dream made breathe and skin. I’ve been waiting for you.” I whisper.

 

            She smiles at me. It’s a special smile, it’s my smile. “That’s beautiful, written by some seventeenth century poet no doubt.”

 

            I shake my head slightly. “Never written, it just came to me when I see you sitting here cloaked in moonlight and fog.”

 

            Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She leans over and brushes her lips so softly against mine that if I could not feel the warmth of her breath against my skin, I would think it was more moonlight magic. And suddenly the words ‘I need you’ take on an entirely different meaning.

 

            I wrap her golden tresses around my fingers and gently tug her down to me. My mouth devours hers in a kiss that is born of need and desire, the sort of kiss you get lost in and that’s the purpose. I feel her hesitate against me, her mind’s last defense, and then she caves and returns my kiss with the same fervor. She presses her palm against my chest, over my heart, a heart that beats only for her. She slides her body alongside mine and then with a twist I’m lying on top of her. Her legs twine with mine. We are one being, one heart, one breath and one soul.  She arches against me and I growl. Reality snaps into place and I push away from her. I take deep ragged breaths. Beside me she is doing the same thing.

 

            “I’m sorry, Buffy. That wasn’t what-“

 

            “No, I started it. I forgot we can’t do the touching each other thing without doing THE touching each other thing.” Her voice trembles and encompasses so many emotions, desire, need, regret, bitterness and longing.

 

            I shrug off my duster and fold it up into a neat pillow. I pat the ground. “Let me hold you. I’ll be good, I promise.” Tears sting my eyes. She bites her bottom lip, trying not to cry and nods.

 

            We lay in the grass and I hold her and it occurs to me that nothing in this world has ever felt more right then this moment right now. I kiss the crown of her head and take a deep breath of Buffy. I close my eyes and savor the smell.

 

            “So you gonna tell me why you’re holding on to me like I’m the last thread tying you to this earth?” she whispers.

 

            Because you are, I think. “I had to make a hard decision today.” I say.

 

            “I’m guessing this wasn’t anything like the decision of which suit to wear tomorrow.” She says.

 

            I smile slightly. “No, more like save a friend or save the world.”

 

            She nods after a moment. “I hate those decisions.”

 

           

 

            It’s almost dawn. At some point in my existence dawn ceased to mean the sun was rising and begin to mean Buffy was leaving, or I was leaving her.  She cups my face in both her hands. She tells me everything with her eyes that her lips can not speak. I glance up at the encroaching dawn. She notices and tiptoes, kissing me lightly on the lips.

She turns to go and I watch her walk away until the rising sun tickles and stings at my skin. By the time she disappears from my sight and I duck into the tomb my exposed skin is smoking.

 

 

**A/N The line Angel says to Buffy that he says he made up is actually from a Duran Duran song called Come Undone. I thought it was beautiful and seemed very suited to them.

Shells

Another one bites the dust, you win some you lose some, Angelus taunts me in my head. I mentally backhand him and scrub my hands across my face. I wasn’t supposed to lose this one though. Somehow losing Fred is worse then losing Cordy. Cordy knew the stakes. She was a fighter. Cordy was never a damsel in distress, no matter how much she might have wanted me to think she was that first year in Sunnydale.  Cordy never needed anyone to save her.

 

                “Handsome man come to save me.”

               

                “That’s how it works.”

 

                That was how it was supposed to work. I saved Fred. I always saved Fred, except for the one time that counted. Instead, I sacrificed her.  I might as well have snapped her neck and offered her up to the Powers that Be. I brought them all to Wolfram and Hart. How was she supposed to survive in a pack of wolves like this? It was stupid, foolish of me to think I could do anything from the belly of the beast, except get eaten. You’d think two and a half centuries would make you wise, obviously not. Darla always did say I was more brawn then brains.  I ram my fist into the wall. The wood paneling cracks.  I am seized with the urge to tear this building apart piece by piece with my bare hands. That wouldn’t get rid of them though. It wouldn’t solve the problem and it wouldn’t bring Fred back. Nothing will bring Fred back now.

 

                I take a deep breath and exhale slowly.  I force my mind to relax, my muscles to unwind. For some reason my mind slips back to so many years ago, doing Tai Chi with Buffy. Has it been that long? It couldn’t have been. I swear it was yesterday. I unbutton my shirt and drape it over a chair. I toe off my shoes and socks. I close my eyes and begin the Tai Chi movements. In my mind I can see my Buffy performing them next to me, oh so careful not to touch me, because that’s not allowed. We couldn’t help though. We never could. We still can’t.

 

                I’m just putting off what I really need. I finish up the relaxing movements and go to the closet.  I pull out the shirt that hangs there. The one I wore to England. The one Buffy christened with her tears and snuggled up against.  I slip it on, not bothering to button it. It smells like her. I pick up the cordless phone and slip into bed. I dial her number. She picks up on the second ring, almost as if she was expecting me.

 

                “Hello,” Her voice is anxious and a little breathy.

 

                “Buffy,”

 

                “Angel,” I can hear the smile in her voice when she says my name. There have been many women in my existence that have said that name. None of them have ever said it like her. None of them have ever made my dead heart beat with just my name, except her.

 

                “How are you? Sorry, stupid question, I know.” She says.

 

                “She counted on me to save her, Buffy.” Tears flood my eyes.  “That was how it worked. Fred got in trouble and I saved her.” The echo of Fred’s words ring in my ears and I can’t talk. I’m lucky I don’t have to breathe, because I can’t.

 

                “Oh, Angel, you can’t save everyone. Wars have causalities and I hate it. I hate losing people. I hate knowing I can’t save them and I hate that sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, whatever that is.” I can hear Buffy’s voice tremble with tears. Somehow knowing that she shares my pain, even half way around the world, is comforting.

 

                “Does it ever get easier?” I manage to ask.

 

                “Truth?” She says.

 

                The truth, do I want the truth tonight? I know what the truth is. I don’t need anyone to tell me about it. There will be plenty of time for the truth in the light of day.

 

                “Lie to me.” I say.

 

                “Yes. It gets infinitely easier. The good guys always win. The bad guys always wear black hats and those funny handle bar mustaches and are always easily dispatched. No one ever dies and it’s just a matter of time before we wipe out all the demons and all the evil. When we’re done saving the world we’ll get a little house somewhere they have good Mexican food and chocolate. We’ll always be together, we’ll never hurt each other, we’ll be in love until the day we die and we’ll live happily ever after.” Her voice is husky and I know she’s choking back tears.

 

                “Tell me about our house.” I say.

 

                “It’s on the beach, a little bungalow I think. The windows are always open and the ocean breeze tosses the sheer white curtains around.  There’s a little deck with stairs that lead right down to the water.  We have breakfast every morning out there with coffee and bagels. There’s a hammock strung up under a couple of palm trees. We sit out there in the afternoon and you read some seventeenth century poetry to me. We sip iced tea out of glasses with little umbrellas because really neither of us needs alcohol. We’re drunk on each other. We have a little boy and he looks just like you.  He’s named something very Irish. Our little girl looks like me, of course, and she’s her Daddy’s girl.” Her voice cracks and she stops and takes a deep breath.

 

                “Thank you.” I say.

 

                I can hear her tears over the phone line and if I close my eyes I can feel her body against mine. Her smell surrounds me and longing has never been such an ache inside me as it is now. I need her like humans need air. I don’t breathe oxygen. I breathe Buffy.

 

                “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” I say. I never mean to make her cry. I’m awfully good at though.

 

                “No, you didn’t. It’s not like I wouldn’t have dreamed it later anyway.” She finally says. “I’m going to go, because if I talk anymore I’m either going to go catatonic or hop a flight to LA.”

 

                I nod. “Let me know if you need someone to pick you up, whenever, wherever.”

 

                “I will, whenever.” She says. “You’ll call back, won’t you?”

 

                “Always, and thank you.” I say.

 

                “It’s okay, sometimes I need to hear the lies too. They help get you through the darkest parts.” She hangs up the phone and she’s gone, but she’s not, not really. Buffy is never gone when it comes to me. I carry a part of her inside of me and I will until the day I cease to exist. As long as I walk on this earth, what Buffy and I have lives on in me.

 

                I put the phone on the bedside table and turn off the lamp. I grab a pillow and curl up around it. If I close my eyes and concentrate on the smell of her that lingers on my shirt, maybe I can pretend for just tonight that I’m curled around her.

 

 Underneath

Conversations In Rome-Underneath

 

Summary: Takes place after Ats episode Underneath.

 

 

            I pace my room, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.  If I stop I fear what might happen. I honestly don’t know. Maybe I’ll break down, curl up in a fetal position and spend a few years rocking myself and making high pitched keening noises.  Maybe I’ll lose the ever tenuous hold I have on Angelus, I’ll let him out and he will burn the world around us to ash.

 

            I can’t do that, no matter how badly I want too, so I pace.  I lost another one tonight. It took so long to earn his trust, trust I obviously didn’t deserve, and I lost him. I let him go to a Hell dimension because I needed some one who had more information then he did. I traded a friend for information and someone I hate. A few years ago I would have found that unthinkable, unforgivable and beyond comprehension, yet I did it without a second thought. I used to save souls, now I leave them behind to be tortured, to have their hearts ripped out, literally.

 

            The phone rings and I know it’s her. I know because I need her. She’s always there when I need her.

 

            “Hello,” I answer the phone.

 

            “Angel,”

 

            “Buffy,” just saying her name eases this steel band that has tightened around my chest.

 

            “I needed my Angel fix,” she confesses with a little chuckle.

 

            I want to weep. My knees buckle and I catch myself on the arm of a chair. I ease myself into the chair. The beautiful creature on the phone needs me, just like I need her. It has never failed to amaze me, particularly now that I find myself so despicable, so unworthy.  I swallow the sob barely contained. “Happy to oblige,” I somehow manage to get out.

 

            “Tell me,” she says. It’s a gentle request, almost as if she knows, almost as if she can feel my pain even across an ocean. Somehow it doesn’t seem as far fetched as it sounds. She’s my soul’s mate. Is it any wonder she would realize its dying, or maybe more appropriately being murdered a little every day.

 

            I take a deep breath. I consider denying that anything is wrong but I can’t bring myself to do it. I need to tell her. Something deep and primal inside me knows that telling her will somehow ease the pain. Then I consider not telling her for a different reason, I deserve to feel this way. I deserve to be tormented for an eternity just like Gunn will be.

 

            “Gunn,” just choking out his name is hard. “I lost Gunn,” I stop and take ragged breaths.

 

            “Breathe Angel, in and out, deep breaths. It’s going to be okay. I’m right here, just breathe,” Buffy says.

 

            I start to tell her I don’t have to breathe, but she knows that. She doesn’t want me to breathe because I have too. She wants me to breathe because she knows it’s calming.  “He-I had to go get this lawyer. I needed him. He knows about the senior partners. He was in a Hell dimension. Gunn insisted on going with us. He’d just gotten out of the hospital. I shouldn’t have let him go. He knew-he knew that in order for someone to leave, someone would have to stay. He stayed, Buffy, and they kill him, everyday,” my voice breaks.

 

            She’s silent for a moment and I can hear her breath trembling over the line. “Angel,” just that one word and somehow it’s more comforting then any of the platitudes anyone else could ever give.  I close my eyes and soak up the sound of her heartbeat, the weight of her breath.  There was nothing anyone could say to make the events of the past few weeks better, but somehow Buffy’s silence helps.

 

            “I screwed up, Buffy. I screwed up so bad. I thought I could change things from here but it’s all been a distraction. They couldn’t bring me over to their side completely but they figured out a way to keep me occupied while they started the apocalypse,” I say.

 

            “So it’s an apocalypse, between the two of us we’ve stopped over a dozen of them. We’ll stop this one too,” she says.

 

            I shake my head. “No, this isn’t an apocalypse, it’s the apocalypse, the world ending one and I let it happen because I was too stupid and too high and mighty to realize what was going on right in front of my face.”

 

            “So we’ll stop the apocalypse, no big. We can do this together, Angel,” Buffy says.

 

            “No, you asked me to be your second front once, now I’m asking you. No matter what you hear, don’t come here. I need you there. I can’t fight this thing and know you’re at risk. I can’t risk you, Buffy,” I close my eyes and wonder if she realizes she is the only thing keeping me from walking into the sun right now.

 

            There is a long silence. Finally she says, “I feel useless, Angel. You’re dealing with the apocalypse, the big one, you’re hurting and I feel useless.”

 

            I chuckle and it is a sad forlorn sound. “What you’re doing right now, it’s saving my life, Buffy. It’s keeping me fighting when all I really want to do is walk outside and greet the sun. You’re not useless. You couldn’t be useless if you tried.”

 

            “It’s that bad?” She asks and I can hear the beginnings of tears in her voice.

 

            I sigh. “It’s that bad, but I’ll handle it, somehow I’ll handle it because I have too but I’m tired. I’m so tired of fighting and I’m tired of being alone. Why am I always alone?”

 

            “You’re never alone, Angel,” her voice comes quiet, hushed and reverent over the line. “As long as you walk this earth my soul walks with you and you are never alone.”

 

            I take a long, deep breath.  “Thank you,” I whisper.

 

            “I’m always here, Angel, if you ever need me. Forever, that’s the whole point,” she says.

 

            I close my eyes and I’m standing on a beach that I’ve never seen in a sunset, my arms wrapped around Buffy, “If I were blind, I would see you.”

 

            “How did you know?” She asks.

 

            I shake my head, forgetting for a moment that she can’t see me.  “The same way I’ve always known.”

 

            There is silence on the line. I don’t know if it lasts a heartbeat or a week, time is irrelevant.

 

            “Angel, I need to go but remember when you’re done fighting this apocalypse, I’ll be right here waiting for you.” The phone clicks in my ear.

 

            I set the cordless phone back in the cradle. I pull the curtains on the windows shut and crawl into bed. I close my eyes and I dream of that beach that I’ve never seen, a sun that doesn’t kill me and a girl that’s been mine since the beginning of time.

Origin

Conversations In Rome- Origin

 

Summary: This takes place right after Angel S5 Origin. If you didn’t see it and don’t want to be spoiled, you’ve been warned.

 

 

                I stand in front of the plate glass window and look out at the sun setting on the horizon. The room is bathed in golden light. I see this everyday and yet somehow I never get tired of it. I’m even more determined now that I don’t take one single second of this precious privilege of standing in the sun for granted. I know we’re not going to be at Wolfram and Hart forever.  Our time here is limited and that’s a good thing but I will miss the sun.

 

            I smile and I think it’s my first real smile in weeks, probably since we lost Fred. I can’t help it. My son and I are okay. I’m not a part of his life, I never will be but I can live with that. He remembers I’m his dad and he’s okay with that. Dare I even say he’s proud of me?  He’s got a good life. He’s happy. That’s all I ever wanted for him.

 

            Wes and Lorne are a little peeved that I messed with their memories. I am regretful that I had to do it, but watching Connor walk out of here by choice back to his normal, happy life, it was worth it all. I’d do it all over again. If that’s wrong, then just add it to the list of sins I’ve racked up in 251 years. 

 

            The phone rings and I pick it up without a thought.

 

            “Hello,”

 

            “Angel,”

 

            The smile I thought couldn’t get any bigger, just did. “Buffy,”

 

            “I was worried about you. The last time we talked you were pretty down but you sound better now,” she says.

 

            “I am. I-“I pause. Buffy doesn’t know about Connor. She’s never met him, there were no memories of hers to alter. Eventually I’ll tell her about my son but it’s not the sort of conversation you have on the phone with a woman you want to spend the rest of eternity with. “I helped a family tonight and it felt really good.”

 

            “You mean Connor?” Buffy says.

 

            I swallow hard and fight to regain my words. She couldn’t have known. My memories weren’t messed with. She never met Connor. “H-how did-“

 

            “Come on, Angel, 2 vampires having a living breathing baby, it’s pretty big news on the demon grapevine,” Buffy says.

 

            My mind whirls with a million possibilities. Their memories were just returned a couple of hours ago. Word might get around but it can’t get around that fast.

 

            “I remembered a couple of hours ago. Dawn and I were walking down the street. I dropped my ice cream and the flowers I’d bought. It was a shock, remembering like that,” Buffy says.

 

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t-you never said anything,” I say.

 

            “There wasn’t time. I mean year before last I was kind of caught up in the whole poor me I got ripped out of Heaven, which to give myself credit pretty dramatic, and then there was the First. Besides, if you’d wanted me to know you would have told me,” Buffy says.

 

            “It’s not that I didn’t want you to know. I was going to tell you but there was never anytime for it. It’s not exactly something you tell someone over the phone,” I say.

 

            “I know and I was pretty hurt by it. I was crushed actually. I always thought I’d be the one to have your babies-“Buffy pauses. Tears rush to my eyes and that old dream replays like film in my head.

 

            “Anyway,” she continues, “I couldn’t exactly call you on it. That would be the kettle calling the teapot dirty or black, you get my point. I was doing the whole Spike thing, well not doing actually yes doing but-“

 

            I interrupt her, not wanting to go over that period of her life, “I get the point.”

 

            “So, things are okay with Connor?” Buffy asks.

 

            “Things are good with Connor. I’m not a part of his life and for his sake it’s good that he’s not a part of mine but I think he’s proud that I’m his biological father. He’s got a good life, Buffy. He’s happy. Maybe I went about it the wrong way, but I did the right thing,” I say.

 

            “I understand. It’s the same reason I took that swan dive, cuz really sorta not liking heights,” Buffy says.

 

            Just the mention of her death makes me slightly melancholic. She has no idea what that did to me. It changed me in ways I can’t even begin to say but I know I am not same as I was before Buffy died, the second time. Actually I guess I wasn’t the same after she died the first time.  Buffy’s deaths, Buffy’s life always makes an impression on me.

 

            “How’s everything else at Evil Inc?” Buffy asks.

 

            I chuckle. I wish she wouldn’t refer to it like that but most of time I refer to it as Hell in my head so I guess her name isn’t half bad. “It’s-I don’t know. They’re trying to pull one over on me. I know that. They’re up to something and I can’t figure out what.”

 

            “Divide and conquer, Angel. They’ve been dividing. It’s only a matter of time before they start with the conquering,” Buffy says.

 

            “Yeah, but I’m sort of hard to conquer,” I remind her.

 

            “That’s not the way I remember it. All it took was a lollypop and some sunshine,” she teases me.

 

            I laugh. “Only you, somehow I don’t think the Senior Partners are going to be quite as captivating as you are.”

 

            “You never know. Seriously though, I want you to be careful. Baking is happening and when it’s done I want to come home,” Buffy says.

 

            Confusion crosses my face at her choice of words. I could read a thousand different things into that but with Buffy you never really know. It’s best if I ask. “Home? Sunnydale is still a crater.”

 

            “Silly vampire, Home is where you are,” Buffy says.

 

            She has rendered me speechless yet again.

 

            “Angel, you still there?” She asks.

 

            “Yeah, you just sort of took my breath away,” I say honestly.

 

            “You have no breath to take away,” she reminds me.

 

            “And yet,” I say, using her sort of phrasing.

 

            I hear her smile over the phone. “You know you can not use my words,” she teases.

 

            “It made you smile big enough that I can hear it over the phone. I can so use your words if that’s the reaction I get,” I say.

 

            She laughs. “Ok, so you can use my words. I’m gonna go. I’m glad the thing with Connor worked out and if you ever mess with my memories again, I will dress you up in Xander’s clothes and make you sing campfire songs.”

 

            I swallow hard and chuckle hollowly to cover up the shock she’s just given me. It’s not the threat, it’s that I’ve messed with her memories before. She just doesn’t know it and hopefully she never will because I don’t know how she’d take it. “It’s a deal, although that might be more torture for you then me.”

 

            “I’ve got ear plugs,” She replies. “Night, Angel.”

 

            She hangs up the phone and I wait until the line has gone dead. I put the phone back in the cradle and return to my spot at the window. I’ve got a battle coming and I’ve got to get Gunn back from a Hell dimension but my son and I are okay and home means me to the girl I love. Sometimes life is good.

Time Bomb

            “Here, Boss, you’ve got a package,” Harmony says as she hands me a thickly padded envelope.

 

 

            I take the manila package warily. My history with packages and Wolfram and Hart is not good. First there was Spike, like I wouldn’t want to not open that one if I could re-do it. Then there was the corporalazation of Spike, again something I would undo. And the tomb that brought Illyria was just the latest debacle in the arrival of packages at Wolfram and Hart.

 

 

            I turn the package over in my hands. It’s relatively small. I glance doubtfully at the return address on it. It’s from Rome. Buffy didn’t mention mailing me anything.  I tear open the package quickly and jump back. A smallish, worn leather box falls out on the carpet. It looks old and that makes me more suspicious. Buffy usually isn’t into old things. She’s more likely send me some kind of new fangled something or the other. I pick the box up and open it. A smile comes to my face unbidden. It’s an old compass, the kind a ship’s captain might have carried in his pocket. I unfold the note stuck in there and read it softly. I take a deep breath, it smells like vanilla and sunshine and strength. It smells like Buffy.

 

 

Angel,

 

 

            I saw this in an antique store near the coliseum. I wanted you to have it, in case you lose your way you can always find it again.

 

 

                                                            Always,

 

 

                                                                        B.

 

 

            Her handwriting is still the loopy, little girlish penmanship I remember from my Sunnydale days. It’s comforting to know the child/woman I fell in love with remains, even if she is more woman then child now. I re-fold the note and tuck it up inside the lid of the compass. It is as precious a gift as the compass is.

 

 

            I start to pick up the phone to call Buffy and thank her. I put it down. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. I don’t know how to tell her about the time warping. I certainly can’t tell her I technically got staked and dusted. She’d panic and come to Los Angeles, ok so maybe not seeing such a bad side to this. No she’d panic and come to LA and kill Illyria for even attempting to dust me. As it is, I’ve still got a nice impalement wound in my gut from the battle that wasn’t time warped and further more I got it saving Spike of all people.

 

 

            I also can’t exactly tell her that I’m letting a demon horde take a baby so that they can sacrifice it in thirteen years. It’s not as if I intend on letting them keep the baby, I’ll go back and get it after the apocalypse is adverted, but I don’t know that Buffy will understand that.  She’ll look at it as Evil Inc. corrupting me and they aren’t, not anymore. Illyria opened my eyes. She told me that the way to win a war was to serve nothing but your own ambition. My ambition is saving the world. I can’t let a single being keep me from saving millions, from saving Connor, from saving Buffy.  Those are the faces I kept firmly in front of me when I told the mother to be that she had made a binding agreement, the baby belonged to the Brethren.

 

 

            I pick the phone back up. I need to thank her for the gift. It’s one more thing to hang onto when I think my entire world is falling apart and I need to hear her voice. She’s part of what I’m trying to save here. I know if there is an apocalypse she will suffer the fate of all mortals, only sooner. I wouldn’t survive another one of Buffy’s deaths. Two are more then enough.

 

 

            “Hello,” she answers.

 

 

            “Buffy,” I smile into the phone at the sound of her voice.  I meant to say Hello, Buffy. Her name was the only thing that came out. It always happens that way.

 

 

            “Angel,” she smiles.

 

 

            “I got your gift. Thank you,” I say.

 

 

            “You’re more then welcome. I saw it and I thought maybe you would like it. Dawn thought I was losing my mind. She said she was pretty sure you could tell where North was. She didn’t get the point. I mean that’s not why I sent it to you, I know you can tell North. You can probably smell North,” she says.

 

 

            I chuckle. “I get the point and it’s very much appreciated.”

 

 

            “I’m glad. How are things there?”

 

 

            “I got Gunn back. Illyria, she’s the demon who took over Fred’s body, went and got him back,” I say.

 

 

            “That’s great. He’s okay then?” Buffy asks.

 

 

            “Yeah, he’s dealing with it. He’s still feeling a lot of guilt over the deal with Fred and he’s dealing with having his heart cut out every day, but he’s going to be okay,” I say.

 

 

            “Good. Coming back can be tough. I’m glad he’s handling it,” Buffy says.

 

 

            “How’s Rome?” I ask.

 

 

            “It’s good.  I’m going out tonight with some of the girls from my Italian class. It’s going to be kind of nice. I don’t know when the last time I went out dancing just for fun and didn’t have to worry about vampires or demons or other hairy scaries,” she says.

 

 

           I gulp convulsively. She’s going out to a club dancing where there will be other men to watch her. I take a deep breath and try to banish images of Buffy dancing with other men the way she danced with Xander in the Bronze that one night so many years ago. I had told her then that I wasn’t jealous. Who the hell am I kidding?  Five years later I’m still jealous of him over that one little dance. “That’s-uh-that’s good,” I manage to choke out.

 

 

 

            Buffy laughs. The sound sends delicious shivers up and down my spine. “Angel, you okay?”

 

 

            “Yeah, I’m-uh-got something caught in my throat,” I try to lie.

 

 

            “You don’t eat,” she says.

 

 

            “No, it’s good that you’re going out, having fun, having a normal life,” I say and it’s true, that doesn’t mean I like it.

 

 

 

            “It is. It’s integral to the baking process, sort of like flour or eggs or chocolate chips,” Buffy says.

 

 

            “You can make cookies without chocolate chips, Buffy,” I say.

 

 

            “Not my cookies,” she teases.

 

 

            “Just know, you can always come home,” I say softly.

 

 

            “I know and I will. I’ve gotta go. The girls are going to be here in a little while,” she says.

 

 

            “Alright, and Buffy, have fun,” I say.

 

 

            “I will and I’ll call you later,” she says as she hangs up.

 

 

            I hang up the phone and stand before the window. The world I’m trying to save spreads before me. The only face I see has blond hair, green eyes and a sunshine smile.

 

 

The Girl in Question

          The room is pitched into complete darkness. I don’t even have the drapes open to let in the sunlight I have come to cherish. I pace the darkness of the room. I thought I could handle seeing her, even if I hadn’t actually seen her face, her eyes, her mouth, instead it ripped me open and gutted me.  I keep flashing back to the moment in the club when I saw her, all blonde hair and grace. It had taken me a moment to find her in the din-wait…it had taken me a moment to find her because I hadn’t felt her. I hadn’t felt her. I always felt Buffy. I felt Buffy that night at The Well when Fred died. I felt Buffy the first moment I saw her sitting on the steps of Hemery High, before she became a slayer and she feels me. She’s always felt me inside, the same way I feel her.

 

          I tear through my desk in the darkness, looking for the note that had come with the bag the head was in. My eyes scan over the elegant script writing. The Immortal, he had sent the head to me. He could have sent the head to me at any point and time, instead he let me go to Rome. He wanted me in Rome, or someone he’s working with wanted me in Rome, like the Senior Partners. My mouth goes cotton dry. I pick up the phone and press the intercom button.

 

          “Harmony, connect me with the Rome office. I don’t care what time it is in Rome, I’m sure there will be someone there to talk to me,” I seethe through gritted teeth.

 

          There are several clicks on the line followed by a few rings. A computerized voice comes over the line, “I’m sorry but the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. If you feel you have received this message in error please hang up and try the number again,” a pleasant voice says in Italian.

 

          I ring Harmony again. “Find out what the hell is up with the Rome office and do it now. Hold all my calls, all my visitors. If it’s not about the Rome Branch, I don’t want to hear it.” My next call is to Lorne. He’s going to make every employee in this office sing until we know for sure no one in this dimension was involved with whatever happened while I was gone. If I find out someone was, heads will roll, literally. Gunn is next on my list. He’s going to contact the Senior Partners. He may not like it but he’ll do it. Wes puts his nose to the grindstone going through the paper trail, trying to account for every second of every minute that I was gone.

 

          I sit down and bury my face in my hands. I let them distract me. All they had to do was wave Buffy in front of me and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. I swallow hard, if it was even Buffy.  I should have felt her, even if that special connection that tingles my spine in a way completely different from every other slayer in the world, even if that was gone, the vampire in me should have sensed the slayer. There was nothing. There was no flight or fight instinct. Angelus hadn’t done a running commentary in my head about bathing in Buffy’s blood, drinking it down (sweet like wine) and then fucking her until she begged for more, an opportunity he would never miss. Just the thought of it sends him charging the bars of his cage. I mentally smack him and buckle the locks down harder. The only rage I felt in that club was mine. It was just me wanting to beat the crap out of the Immortal, not for the greater good, but because he was Buffy’s boyfriend.

 

          My last phone call is to the girl in Rome. I let the phone ring fifteen times before hanging up. I dial Giles’ number, not something I’m looking forward too. I remember all too well the last time I’d talked to him he denied us assistance. Doesn’t matter, if anyone knows where Buffy is, he will.

 

          “Giles, hi, it’s Angel. Don’t hang up, I’m not evil. I’m looking for Buffy,” I say swallowing my pride and my ego.

 

          I am beyond surprised when he says she’s there. I hear the shuffling of the phone and some whispers. I can’t make them out though. One sounds like Buffy and even at the sound of her voice a tingle goes up and down my spine. I curse myself for not remembering this sooner, like when we were in Rome.

 

          “Angel,” she says.

 

          “Buffy,”

 

          “Is something wrong?” She asks.

 

          “No, I mean, I don’t know,” I resume my pacing.  “I’m-I-I’m not trying to be overbearing but do you know a vampire that goes by the name of The Immortal?”

 

          She laughs. It’s one of those full blown laughs. I can almost see her in my mind, bent at the waist, her eyes crinkled up and her gorgeous mouth open, laughter spilling out. The laughter is cut short. “Oh, you’re serious,” she says.

 

          “Yeah,” I say uncomfortably.

 

          “No. I mean I thought you were kidding because that’s almost as cheesy as The Prince of Darkness,” she says.

 

          “So, he’s not-he’s not your boyfriend?” I say in a rush.

 

          “What? Angel, did Dawn put you up to this?” She asks.

 

          “No, Buffy I’m serious,” I say.

 

          “No, I don’t know anyone named The Immortal and he’s certainly not my boyfriend,” she says.

 

          “Oh, good-wait-you have a boyfriend? I mean that’s great, right good-“ I stop. I did call Nina my girlfriend in Rome, but that was only because I thought Buffy had a boyfriend. I don’t want her to have a boyfriend. If I can’t have cookie dough, no one else is getting cookie dough even if that means I have to kill every male under the age of 70 in Rome.

 

          I can hear her grinning over the phone. “I don’t have a boyfriend, but it’s good to know you’d think it was great if I did have one. I’ll place that ad in the personals as soon as I get home.”

 

          “No, I-if you-I-“ I sputter and finally say, “please don’t.”

 

          “Relax, I was teasing you. So what’s this all about? Besides someone told you I had a boyfriend,” she says.

 

          “Wolfram and Hart doing some distraction I’m afraid. How long have you been in London?” I ask.

 

          “Almost a week, I’m helping Giles with some slayer things. I’m actually writing the handbook, imagine me the girl who didn’t even get a handbook,” she says and she sounds proud. I chuckle. If anyone is qualified to write a slayer handbook she is. She broke every rule the slayer handbook had.

 

         She wasn’t there. She hasn’t been there for several days now. I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it even though Angelus is smirking in my head (You think I wouldn’t have known if our mate was even in the country?) “You haven’t been back to Rome the entire week?” I ask, wanting clarification.

 

          “Didn’t even step a toe in that direction, Giles has had me cloistered in the library believe it or not. Angel, what’s this all about?”  She asks.

 

          “There was this demon leader there. He died and we had to go get the head to bring it back here so these rituals could be performed. The head was in Rome. I stopped by your apartment to see you, since I was in the neighborhood-“

 

          “This would have nothing to do with you hearing I had a boyfriend, right?” she says with laughter in her voice.

 

          “Well, yes but I really was in the neighborhood. Anyway, Andrew was there,” I say.

 

          “Yeah, he’s watering my plants. See I had a goldfish and I killed him within like 48 hours and so in AA meetings, not that I’ve gone but one of the slayer’s brothers is like a devotee converted alcoholic or whatever, anyway in AA meetings they tell you to get a plant and if you can keep a plant alive for like a year then you can move onto a pet and if you can keep the pet alive for another year then you’re all set to have a relationship with a real live person-“

 

          “Two years? I mean I know you said years in Sunnydale but I thought it was an exaggeration. You really might take two years?” I interrupt.

 

          “No, Angel, it was-“ she sighs, “Andrew was watering my plants, which by the way I’ve had for almost a year and they are thriving,” she says.

 

          “So a pet is next?” I ask.

 

          “Yup,” she says.

 

          “And then?” I ask.

 

          “And then an Angel,” she says almost nonchalantly.

 

          My mouth goes dry again and I sit down. “I-uhm-I-you do realize I’m a little harder to kill then a puppy or a plant, right?”

 

          She laughs and the sound dribbles over me like cool water on a hot day. “Actually, I kind of did realize that. I was thinking of giving the puppy 6 months.”

 

          My mind starts whirling and I can’t remember why I even called her in the first place. Six months, do you realize how short six months is to someone who has lived two hundred and fifty years?

 

          “So, what did Andrew tell you?” She asks, bringing me back to focus.

 

          “He-he told me The Immortal was your boyfriend, that you snuggled on the couch,” I say.

 

          “I am so going to kill the little twerp. I don’t even care if he’s evil or not,” she mutters.

 

          “He-well he could have been under The Immortal’s thrall. He’s old, really old and I’ve had run ins with him before. I’m pretty sure he can do mind tricks, like Dracula,” I say.

 

          “If he’s eating bugs on my new leather couch, I’ll kill him twice for good measure,” she says.

 

          I furl my brow, apparently I missed something, but then I’ve missed a lot so I let it go. “No, he was acting very strangely though. Be careful, Buffy,” I warn.

 

          “Hey, I’m not the one that has other dimensional lawyers trying to apocalypse my city,” she reminds me.

 

          “Just, be careful, I mean it,” I say.

 

          I can hear her smile and it seems like the room becomes brighter. “Because you didn’t mean it the other two hundred times you’ve told me to be careful,” she says.

 

          “Buffy-“I start.

 

          “I know. I’ll be careful. The same goes for you,” she says.

 

          “Always,” I respond. Wes pokes his head in the door and waves some papers at me. “I’ve got to go. Wes needs to speak with me, but I’ll call you later and hit Andrew really hard for me,” I say.

 

          “That’s a promise,” she says and hangs up the phone.

 

          I start to replace the phone in the cradle and then on second thought dial Harmony’s extension. “Harmony, call a couple of the pet shops in town. Let them know I’ll be by after dark tonight and would they mind staying open for me.” I hang up the phone and look expectantly at Wes.

 

          “Lonely?” Wes asks as he gives me a puzzled look.

 

          “Do you think they ship puppies to Rome?” I ask.

 

Power Play

A/N: Thanks to Ash for helping suss out the idea for this. She does that a lot and its mucho appreciated! I can’t believe this is the second to last chapter I’ll be writing for this *sob* It’s been so much fun and thank you every single one who supported this. Wow I sound like an academy award winner or something, shutting up now.

 

-*-

 

 

            I sit in a chair next to the window, my elbows braced on my knees, my fingers loosely knit together.  I’m leading them all into an apocalypse that we’re not going to walk out of this time. I’ve been to lucky to many times. There were all the apocalypses in Sunnydale, with Buffy, and then the ones here. I’m a dead man, in the figurative as well as literal sense, walking on borrowed time. And now, so is everyone in my crew.

 

            It’s the only way though. If we quit now, they win. If we fight, well, they win too but like I told the others, for one bright and shining moment we will show them that we matter. The human existence, my existence is not worthless. Our lives mean something. I mean something.

 

            There are things I will miss, very few but the ones there are I will miss with such aching clarity I am sure I will feel it in Hell. All these things start and end with Buffy. I will miss existing in a world that she lives in. I will miss that particular timbre and tone she uses when she says my name. Most of all I will miss the promise of Shanshu, the promise of what might have been, the promise of a future with Buffy.

 

            My throat is dry and my eyes sting from unshed tears, tears I don’t have time to shed. I pick the cordless phone up and grip it tightly in both my hands. I need to call her. I can’t go into this without telling her goodbye.  My throat closes. I don’t know how to say goodbye to her. I’ve never said goodbye to her, not before she sent me to Hell, not before I came to LA, not after the Day that Wasn’t and certainly not when I’d seen her last in Sunnydale, before she went into her own apocalypse.  I’ve never said goodbye to Buffy because I knew it was never goodbye. I’d always return to her no matter what. This time there won’t be a return because this is the last battle, for me and after that where I’m going she won’t be.

 

            I dial the number in Rome and hold my metaphorical breath while it rings. She picks it up a little out of breath. She must have run in from outside to get it.

 

            “Buffy,”

 

            I hear the smile in her voice and it just makes this harder. “Angel,”

 

            “Did you get my present?” I ask.

 

            She laughs. “Yes that’s where I was just now, walking him. The pet store delivered him two days ago. He’s adorable and chewing on the phone cord right now.”

 

            “What did you name him?” I ask.

 

            “Regalo, it’s Italian for-“

 

            “Gift,” I say.

 

            “Yeah, mostly I just call him dammit Reg. He gets into everything but I love him so much. He sleeps in bed with me curled up at my side,” she says and her voice softens. I can almost see the way she looks right now, the Italian sunlight coming through the window and shining on her golden hair, her hazel eyes soft and misty, her beautiful mouth with just a hint of a smile. I shake myself out of my day dream.

 

            “How are you?” I ask, stalling, buying myself time.

 

            “Good, but your not, what’s up? And don’t tell me nothing, you’ve got something voice,” she says.

 

            She always could tell when something was bothering me or on my mind. Somehow I keep expecting that to change with time or distance. It never does, nothing between Buffy and I ever changes. I’ve come to realize that’s not a bad thing. It gives me something to count on in a world where you can count on so very little.

 

            “Things here are just-“ I pause, searching for the words.

 

            “Rampagy, scary, crazy?” She supplies.

 

            A grin cracks my face. “That’s one word for it.”

 

            “Or three, my offer still stands. I can swoop in with an army of slayers and a wicked Wicca. Just say the word and the army will converge,” she says.

 

            It would be smart of me to take her up on her offer. More bodies can only help, of course it will also add to the body count and I can’t take the chance that she will be one of those bodies.

 

            “I can’t risk you, second front and all that,” I say.

 

            “See, I knew that was going to come back to haunt me,” she says.

 

            “Buffy-do you have a few moments?” I ask.

 

            “I’ve got all the time in the world. Dawn is in London visiting Willow and Giles. What’s going on, Angel?”

 

            I stand up and start pacing back and forth in front of the windows. “I want you to listen to me. There are some things I need to tell you, things I want you to know. I love you, Buffy. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you and possibly even longer. The time I spent with you in Sunnydale was the best time in my entire existence and I wouldn’t trade one single moment of it.  There are so many things in my life that I’ve done wrong but none of it matters, the only thing in this entire life that matters is that I was loved by you and don’t ever think my dreams didn’t come true, our dreams didn’t come true because for one perfect moment, they did.”

 

            I scrub my hand through my hair trying to remember it all, trying to get it all out before she panics. “I didn’t mind not being able to be in the sunlight when I was with you. You were my sunlight and sometimes I was convinced even the sun was jealous. When I left you, it didn’t mean I didn’t love you, it meant I love you to much, to much to breathe, to much to move, to much to be strong. I’ve got willpower in spades, except when it comes to you.”

 

            Tears rush to my eyes as I remember, only I remember, her saying “not enough time, it’s not enough time.” That’s how I feel, it’s not enough time. “No matter where I’m at, or where I go, I’ll never forget, Buffy. I’ll never forget, I’ll never forget,” I stop because the tears choke me, forcing me into silence.

 

            Her breath comes through the phone lines with a tremble. “This sounds an awful lot like goodbye, Angel. We don’t say goodbye.”

 

            “I love you, Buffy. I’ll never forget,” I hang up the phone and rip the cord out of the wall in one swift movement. I stand in front of the windows, looking out at the night skyline and I don’t realize I’m crying until I taste the salt on my own lips.

 

            It’s the end of the world, I just said goodbye to Buffy.

Not Fade Away

“Personally, I wanna slay the dragon,” I say looking up at the massive beast flying above us. It’s the first one I’ve ever seen and I’d really like to take it out before my entire team, or what’s left of it, is wiped out.

 

            “Let’s go,” I say as the hordes march closer to us. It seems I’m always destined to die in an alley. Maybe that’s where I’ve always belonged.

 

            “You’ve really got to stop hoarding all the fun,” I hear a voice behind me and whirl around on my heel.

 

            Standing behind me is an entire army of slayers, led by their golden General. I catch sight of Willow off to the side. She waves and smiles at me. I can’t help but chuckle. From all of Buffy’s reports, Willow is the most powerful witch in the world now and yet she’s still the same little red head I met in Sunnydale so long ago.

 

            “I thought I told you to stay in Rome,” I say.

 

            “You did. I thought you knew I don’t listen very well. Besides, it looks like you could use a hand here and hey I’ve got this nifty army. Now stop arguing with me and let’s kick some demon ass,” she says.

 

            The first wave of demons washes over us. The slayers around me are a flurry of fists and feet. Some of them fall, it can’t be helped this is a war and I knew going into it people were going to die. People already have.

 

            I shove my sword up into one scaly demon, as he falls he catches my shoulder with a talon and rips through the skin right into the muscle. I growl, vamp face surfacing and switch the sword to my left arm. I step back and bump into Buffy. She grins at me. There’s a cut on her forehead and one on her shoulder but she seems to be holding her own.

 

            “Will, this is a good time!” Buffy shouts. “Once she starts chanting, there’s gonna be a flash, you might want to duck and close your eyes after that,” she says in a low voice.

 

            I hear the chanting but can’t make out the words. There’s a white hot flash and I hit the pavement but can’t help peeking. This wash of white light explodes over the demon horde and several of the demons literally explode into ash. Willow has just cut their army down by at least half. That still leaves a big army, but we’ve got one of those too.

 

*

 

            I don’t know how long we’ve been fighting. It seems like forever and everyone with the exception of Illyria is showing signs of battle weariness.  We’re taking them out though, one by one. Willow’s spells are a huge advantage. She has slowed the entire demon army down so much they might as well be mired in tar. Illyria is taking out half a dozen at a time. She seems endless, tireless and unstoppable. I’m glad to have her on my side. That damned dragon still hovers over the battle, just waiting for the right moment to strike. I really hope he’s not the fire breathing kind, but aren’t they usually?

 

            “Angel,” I hear inside my head and I look around. I can see Willow standing off to the side. She nods at me. I push and fight my way over to her.

 

            “You said you wanted to slay the dragon,” she says.

 

            I nod. “It’d be nice. I’ve never killed a dragon.”

 

            She nodded. “I think I can help.”

 

            She takes my hand and murmurs some words in an archaic language I’ve never heard. A red glow starts at my hand and creeps up, encasing my entire body. Willow opens her eyes, which have gone completely black and smiles at me. “All fireproofed and read to slay a dragon. It won’t last for more then fifteen minutes though. I’m too tired to hold it longer than that. Be careful, I can do a lot of things now, bringing you back from ash isn’t one of them.”

 

            “Thanks Willow and I will be,” I say. I jump up and grab a hold of the fire escape. I scale up the ladder quickly to the top of the building. I pull the long, curved dagger from the sheath on my belt and test its weight in my hand. The dragon isn’t paying any attention to me. I toss the dagger end over end hoping to remedy that. The dagger lodges itself deep in the dragon’s side and it turns with an ear shattering scream.

 

            Showtime…I rush the thing, sword held high in both hands. My demon naturally surfaces and I let out a feral roar as I leap from the building and catch the dragon’s tail. It whips me against the side of the building, taking out most of the top floor. Thank the powers that it’s an abandoned building. I hang on stubbornly to the twitching, thrashing tail. I wince as the dragon turns and opens its mouth. A gout of flame comes out and I close my eyes, time to see if Willow’s spell holds.

 

            I open my eyes in amazement as the flame washes over me. I can feel some of its heat but it doesn’t burn. It doesn’t even sting.  I shimmy up the dragon’s tail scales make for surprisingly good traction. The dragon bucks, trying to throw me again. My right arm, still weak from the healing injury gives and there is a moment where I swing wildly by one arm. I glance down and can’t help but smile. The good guys out number the bad guys now.

 

            “Angel!” Buffy screams.

 

            She stands out like a beacon on a dark night. I don’t want to leave her, even if I’m never human, I don’t want leave her. I scramble and finally get a handhold with my right hand. I pull myself up onto the dragon’s back and duck as he shoots another spout of flame at me. Willow’s spell holds but the heat is more intense this time. She’s weakening. If I’m gonna get this done, it’s got to be now.

 

            I manage to crawl hand over hand up the dragon’s back. It bucks and turns wildly, snapping at me.  It manages to scrape its really long, sharp teeth over my calf and I grit my teeth against the pain. I chop at its neck with the sword and it releases my leg. If I can get just a little higher I think I can strike a killing blow.

 

            Finally I find a secure position directly behind the dragon’s head. I wrap my legs around its neck and raise my sword with both hands. I drive the sword through the base of the dragon’s head as hard as I can. It screams in pain and fire shoots from its mouth. Willow shouts some words just as the flame washes over what’s left of the demon army, and the slayers below. I panic for a moment. Buffy was down there and I can’t see her now. I don’t have time to think about that though, because the dragon is falling through air at an alarming rate. I leap from its back, hoping to clear its body mass when it lands.

 

            I fall hard a few feet from the dragon. Some kind of steel rod thrusts its way up through my body, scraping hipbone and it’s shoved through my abdomen and out my back. The impact of hitting the ground jars all the way to the bone and for a moment I think I’m going to pass out. Truthfully the only thing that keeps me from it is looking for Buffy. I have to know if she’s okay.

 

            She’s kneeling beside me in an instant. She sniffles and wipes the blood from my face, oblivious of her own wounds.  “Hey, you okay?”

 

            “I really hate being impaled,” I say.

 

            She nods. “I know what you mean, come on, lets see if we can get you off this thing.” She calls one of the slayers over and they manage to get me off the steel rod. Buffy helps me to my feet and slings my arm over her slight shoulders.

 

            “Lean on me. I can take it,” she says with a smile.

 

            You know, I really think she can.

 

*

 

 

            I’m lying in my bed in my suite in the old Hyperion. I’m in a state of shock. It’s over and we lived. I never expected to live and now I’ve got to deal with the fact that I signed away my humanity. I gave it up and with it I gave up all the dreams of a life with Buffy. I gave up dreams of seeing her in the sunlight. I gave up dreams of lots of Summers babies with her. The heart I don’t have aches at the thought of how beautiful a Summers baby would be. I gave up the chance to grow old and die with Buffy at my side. Somehow this victory seems like a bitter sentence. I was ready to die and now I have to walk this earth for the rest of eternity.

 

            Willow knocks softly on my door. I know it’s her. She smells like strawberries. She opens the door quietly and steps in.

 

            “How are you feeling?” She asks.

 

            “I’ll be fine,” I say without much enthusiasm.

 

            Willow sits down on the edge of the bed and fixes her gaze on me. “You won so why the doom and gloom?”

 

            “It’s a long story,” I say.

 

            She shrugs. “I’ve got time,”

 

            “We lost Wes,” he said.

 

            Willow nods. “Illyria told me. He’s with Fred now. Don’t you think that’s what he’d want?”

 

            I smile slightly. “Yeah, it’s what he would want. It’s my own selfishness that wants him here I guess.”

 

            Willow nods. “You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel that.”

 

            A harsh, bitter laugh is forced from my dead lungs. “That’s the thing, Willow. I’m not human, I never will be.”

 

            “The Shanshu prophecy,” she says.

 

            “You knew?” I asked.

 

            Willow nods. “Buffy doesn’t though. Wes told Giles and Giles sort of let it slip one day when we were researching. We decided if you wanted to tell Buffy, it was your place to do so, not ours.”

 

            “Thank you. I signed it away you know,” I say.

 

            “You what?” Willow asks.

 

            “The Circle of the Black Thorns, I had to be inside to take them down. One of the things they wanted me to do to prove my loyalty was to sign away the last bastion of hope I had. So I signed the prophecy in blood, giving up my right to ever have it. I guess Spike will get the Shanshu now and maybe that’s the way it was always meant to be. At least Buffy and he can-“

 

            “Are you on medication? Or did the fall give you brain damage?” Willow interrupts.

 

            “What?”

 

            “Buffy doesn’t want a future with Spike. She never did. She cares for Spike the way you cared for Cordelia or Fred. She’s not about to run off and make a life with him whether he’s human or not,” Willow says.

 

            “I can’t give her a normal life.” My voice rises slightly and the extra effort pulls at the wound in my side.

 

            “She doesn’t want a normal life. She never has. Buffy has always been prepared and happy to spend the rest of her life with you, a vampire. Yeah she probably does wish you could grow old with her. She probably does wish you could go out into the sunlight with her and have children with her but you don’t get it. You never have. You’re the deciding factor in Buffy’s future. If she can’t have those things with you, then she doesn’t want them at all. She just wants you, human, vampire, demon, it doesn’t matter. You’re her future,” Willow says.

 

            I sigh. Buffy’s older, wiser, maybe Willow is right. Maybe I don’t have to be human to have a future with Buffy. I know me being human has never even come up in all the conversations we’ve had about her “baking.”

 

            Willow stands up. “I’ve got to go check on the other slayers. My fire shield worked but one of the girls still has some burns and then there are the other wounds of various kinds. I’m going to be a busy little healer for the next few hours.”

 

            “Buffy mentioned you’d gotten powerful, but I never imagined how powerful,” I say.

 

            Willow nods. “It’s kind of scary, but really cool. I’m practically a Goddess now.” She turns to leave and is half way across the room when she turns back to me.

 

            “Oh, and that curse thing,” she twitches her nose like Samantha from that old TV show Bewitched. “Not even a problem now,”

 

*

 

            She’s sitting out in the courtyard, the moonlight gilding her silver and I recall the time she came to me in England, the night Fred died. She turns when she hears, or maybe feels, me behind her.

 

            “Hey, I’ve been waiting for you,” she says and it’s almost a whisper.

 

            “My whole life,” I whisper back and sit down on the bench beside her. She leans against me, her head on my shoulder and the contact is so natural it clogs my throat with tears. Silence reigns for a moment before she speaks.

 

            “Willow told me she fixed the curse.”

 

            I nod. “She did. Do you think it’s anchored?”

 

            Buffy smiles, “At last count, she made close to 500 slayers. I don’t really think one little bitty curse is a problem for her.”

 

            “You’ve got a point,” I say. Angelus is screaming inside my head. He wants to test this curse theory out. O f course he does. He gets to have sex with Buffy and there’s a chance he’ll get let out. It’s a win win for Angelus.  I’m a little more hesitant. Buffy and I have so much to rebuild, so much to make up for. I’m not sure we can just pick up where we left off.

 

            “I’m sorry about Wes,” she says.

 

            “I am too. He’d changed you know, from the man you knew. He was a good man to have by your side. He never shirked his battles.  I’m going to miss him.”

 

            She rubs a hand up and down my back. I can feel the heat of it singeing my skin and there has never been such a feeling in my life.

 

            “Buffy-“ I start and then stop because I don’t know where to begin.

 

            “Don’t, Angel,” she says.

 

            “Don’t what?” I ask.

 

            “Don’t send me away. Don’t give me noble excuses. Don’t break my heart,” the last is broken and filled with the sound of tears.

 

            At that moment a tiny ball of yellow fluff runs from the lobby into the courtyard yipping. It runs up to Buffy and tries to scramble into her lap. It ends up on its back, four legs kicking in the air. Buffy laughs and picks up the fluff ball.

 

            “This is Regalo,” she says with a giggle as the puppy licks her nose.

 

            I smile and reach over and scratch the dog behind the ears. He wiggles, trying to get closer to me. Buffy loosens her hold and pretty soon my lap is full of wriggling, fluffy, puppy. I laugh as Regalo licks my nose and nips at the end of it.

 

            “What is it about puppies that make life suddenly seem not quite as bad? Even Illyria played with him earlier. Of course she doesn’t actually get him, but I think she found him interesting,” Buffy says.

 

            I set the puppy down and he runs off to sniff flowers and dig in the dirt. Buffy twines her fingers with mine. I look down at our hands linked, the way our lives, our souls have always been linked. In the aftermath of the apocalypse I realize humanity, age differences, sunlight and children don’t matter when it comes to me and Buffy. They have never have. She’s mine. I’m hers and I will be until the end of time.

 

            “So, where do we go from here?” I ask.

 

            “Anywhere we want, together,” she says.

 

            I lift our hands to my lips and kiss the knuckles of our hands. “Always,” I whisper.