Title: Fallen Angels

Disclaimer: I don’t know own them they are all Joss’ because if I owned them I’d have the good sense to know that Buffy and Angel belong together!

 

Spoilers: Anything up to Bargaining 1&2 (BTVS) is fair game.  I’m not sure where that puts Ats, but Darla never showed up pregnant with Connor. Buffy and Angel’s off screen meeting _is_ included in this, so I know the timeline is wonky.

 

Summary:  I hated season 6 of btvs. This is a different version of it. Warning its pretty dark I do some bad things to our favorite characters however it will turn out nice in the end.

 

Author’s Note: *’s denote passage of time.

Two    Three     Four     Five     Six     Seven     Eight     Nine     Ten     Eleven     Twelve     Thirteen    

Fourteen     Fifteen     Sixteen     Seventeen     Eighteen     Nineteen     Twenty     Twenty-One     Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three     Twenty-Four     Twenty-Five     Twenty-Six     Twenty-Seven     Twenty-Eight   

Twenty-Nine

 

Chapter One

 

@--Buffy--@

 

            I shut my eyes against the colors. I put my hands over my ears. It’s so loud. Everything is so grating. I scream, trying to shut everything out. I am locked in my room, sitting in a corner in the dark. I can hear them outside my door.  I know eventually they will send someone in to check on me. They have done this every few hours since I returned. I’m not sure how they expect me to act.

 

*

 

 

            They did this to me. Willow decided I was in Hell and needed to be rescued. I know she meant well, but what would make her think I’d gone to Hell. I died saving the world. Doesn’t that give me a place in Heaven? I can’t tell her. No matter how much I want to scream at her and ask why she ripped me out of Heaven I can’t. No one can ever know where I was. I don’t want them to feel badly. I’m also afraid that because God allowed me to return here, that maybe He didn’t want me either. Just like my Dad, or Angel, or Riley. Nothing good and beautiful wants me, not even Heaven.

 

            It took Willow a long time to decide she needed to call Angel. I don’t know how long. I can’t remember how time works here. Everything passes in a rending painful torrent of noise and color. He wants to see me. I think he just needs to ease his guilty conscience. If he’d been here maybe I’d have hope. Maybe the strength that I always drew from would have been enough to prevent Glory from opening the portal. Maybe, my entire life, and unlife, since Angel left has been a lot of maybes.

 

*

 

 

            There’s this really beautiful spot of private beach on the way to LA from Sunnydale. I’m meeting Angel there. I get there before he does, but then I planned it that way. I’m standing in the wet sand, letting the water wash over my feet when I feel him. I’d forgotten he did that to me.  His presence sends tiny fingers walking up and down my spine, even before I see him.  I never really understood it. I suck at feeling vampires, even though Giles says it should be as natural to me as my strength or my healing. I felt Angel from the moment he followed me to the Bronze though.

            I don’t turn around. He left me. He can come to me. He does. I feel his arms wrap around my waist. He turns me around. Maybe he needs to look in my eyes. He doesn’t say anything. He falls to his knees before me, his arms wrapped around my legs, his face buried in my stomach and sobs. I am reminded of when he came back to me from Hell. My hands tangle in his hair.

            I feel something. For the first time since being torn out of Heaven, I feel. I hurt, I ache. He feels like mine. I know he’s not, he can’t be for more reasons then I have time to recite.

 

*

 

*

 

*

            @--Angel--@

 

            I thought when I became I vampire I lost the ability to have my breath taken away. When I saw her standing in the ocean there were no other words for my reaction. She took my breath away.  I felt her long before I saw her. I had tried to forget that she did that to me. It starts as a tingling at the back of my neck and it spreads out and I swear my heart starts to beat.  I told myself I was going to handle this with composure, control. The only thing I could do is fall before her on my knees and cry, thanking a God that hates me and my kind for this amazing gift he’d given me. Just knowing she’s alive somewhere in the world make my world better.

            It is a long time before I can stop sobbing, stop thanking God. I stand and step back, ashamed at my reaction to her. I notice things about her for the first time. She’s much to thin. Willow warned me she hadn’t been eating, even before she…left. I can’t bring myself to say died and her name in the same breath. Her eyes are filled with pain and longing. I stare into those hazel eyes I’ve always loved so much, and recoil. I thought I’d mastered the art of pain, of feeling it, giving it. I have never felt or seen pain as deep and hard as what existed in my beloved’s eyes. It was the pain of loss, not the pain of places seen.

            I enfold her into my arms, unable to do anything else or say anything. I smell her. She smells like vanilla, just like she always has and I know Willow was wrong.  I know what hell smells like, I spend a few hundred years there. It smells like brimstone and sulfur and death and it lingers. No matter how many showers, how much soap or scented shampoo, the smell of hell lingers in the skin, the breath, the blood. I smell none of that on her and I understand the awful pain in her eyes.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            We didn’t speak for a long time. It’s okay. We never needed words between us.  We held onto each other.  Finally he pulled away, taking my hand and leading me up to dry sand. He sits down and pulls me with him. He is unwilling to break contact between us, as if he needs confirmation that I am real. He is my confirmation. Where he is, I ­_am_ real.

            “You haven’t told them?” he asks

            I know what he’s asking. I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just go back to the part where you’re holding me. I want to ask, but I don’t . I know the answer. I shrug instead.

            “They need to know you weren’t in Hell, Buffy. They need to know they took you away from Heaven. That’s where you were wasn’t it?” He asks. It hurts him to know where I was, that I don’t have that anymore. He has broken my heart and killed my soul many times before, but he did it because he wanted me happy. He hates it that I’m not happy. I shrug again in response.

            He sighs. “Buffy, I wish you’d talk to me.”

            I start to scream but I can’t. “Why? Would talking change that when the sun rises  your going to get in your car and leave me again?” Is that hoarse, rough voice really mine? I wonder. I know it hurts him when I say things like this, but I can’t help it.

            “Buffy, don’t you think I’d stay with you forever if I could?”

            Again I shrug. It’s easier then hearing my own voice. He shakes his head. He knows he can’t win this argument with me. Instead he pulls me into his lap and holds me. He rocks me. When was the last time someone rocked me? I wondered.  He whispers to me how much he loves me, how much he misses me and it soothes all those ragged nerve endings. It quiets the noise and dulls the colors. It makes me feel _almost_ alive.

 

            *

 

            *

 

            *

           

            @--Angel--@

           

            I rock her. I wonder if I’ve ever just rocked her. I’ve seen her cry so many times. I’d almost rather she cry now instead of this quiet. How could her friends not have known she was in Heaven. Where else did angels go? She is so tiny, so fragile and vulnerable in my arms. It makes me love her all the more.

            I wonder for the hundredth time if I could have prevented this. Maybe if I hadn’t been in Pylea, not saving Cordy from being a Princess, I would have known. That tingling would have told me she needed me. Just as I knew she needed me when her Mom died. It’s the biggest guilt on top of all the guilt I’ve got to face.

            If I had known what they were planning, that they were bringing her back, what would I have said? Would I have stopped them, reminded them that no matter what God, or the Powers,  would never be so cruel to send a pure soul like hers to Hell. Or would I have helped them, selfishly, wanting to know that she only 2 hours away, that my reason for living, for fighting lie only 2 hours away.  I couldn’t answer either question honestly.

            Our lives had gotten so separated. I was trying so hard to move on, like everyone encouraged me to do.  They didn’t understand. They never will, moving on without Buffy is like moving on without a limb. You can get prosthetics and they work but they never fit and it’s never like having your own limb and you always miss it with an ache.

            The sunrise is coming. I can smell it and I mourn it, more then I have in two hundred some odd years. When the sun rises I’ll have to let her go. After all, nothing has changed. I put my finger under her chin and lift her face to mine. The hollows under her eyes are black in this half light. I kiss her lips and she tastes the same. Vampires don’t taste food like humans do, it’s all ash in our mouths, but when I kiss Buffy I taste ice cream and chocolate and peanut butter, preferably extra crunchy. I say the words I know will break her heart, but she needs to know.

            “I love you, Buffy.”

            She responds by kissing me again. The kiss tells me all I need to know. Nothing has changed. She loves me and I don’t blame her for not saying it. The words are painful. They hurt. I know I have a heart that beats when I’m holding Buffy, because leaving her rips it out of me.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I couldn’t tell them how the meeting had gone. They wouldn’t understand. Their little spoof of my life was proof of that.  I wanted ice cream, cookie dough mint chip. And I wanted to eat it with someone who wouldn’t act like it didn’t matter that Buffy was alive.

            Later, locked in my room, brooding, I heard Cordelia.

            “Great, he goes to see Buffy and we have to deal with the fallout. He’ll be brooding for days over her.”

            She has no idea. No one does. And if I were to discuss it with them they’d tell me to get over it. Cordy turns the radio on downstairs. The words drift up to me.

 

I played the fool today

And I can see us vanishing into the crowd

Longing for home again

But home is a feeling I buried in you

 

I’m alright, I’m alright

It only hurts when I breathe

 

 

            Of course, I don’t actually breathe, but the meaning of the words are not lost on me. It hurts every single second of every single day. If I’m having a good day, I’ll get 10 seconds of not noticing the pain, not that it goes away, but that I don’t notice it. Cordy, Wes and Gunn think there is no pain as long as they can see smiling and laughing and pretending to live. What they don’t realize is the pain is always there, at those time it’s not an unusual amount of pain.

            Animals, even humans, if exposed to pain long enough get used to it. Then you apply an extraordinary amount pain, something above and beyond what they are used to. It doesn’t mean the original pain went away.  I know, I used the same method in torture for decades. It’s karma I suppose, all coming back to me. And I accept it, I deserve it but Buffy doesn’t.

 

 

            @--Buffy--@

           

            The car ran out of gas. I’ve been sitting here listening to the radio for I don’t know long. Did I mention I can’t remember how time works here? All I know is the sun comes up, he goes away. Sometimes when the sun goes down he comes back. Maybe if I’m still long enough he’ll come back.

 

And I can’t ask for things to be still again

No I can’t ask for you

To offer the world through your eyes

Longing for home again

But home is a feeling I buried in you

 

I’m alright I’m alright

It only hurts when I breathe

I’m alright I’m alright

It only hurts when I breathe

 

            Breathing, that’s when the pain started, my first breath inside my coffin. They made me claw out of my own grave. It hurt. It hurt that they didn’t care enough to dig me up first. Angel dug out of his grave. I hadn’t had to breathe in Heaven, maybe that’s why it hadn’t hurt. No, that wasn’t right. Angel hurt. I could see the pain in his eyes. He doesn’t have to breathe. Maybe breathing just hurts for me. It didn’t always. Once, before Angel left, breathing had been something I never though about. It was an automatic response to breathe in and breathe out. I wish I didn’t have to breathe, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

My window through which nothing hides

And everything sings

I’m counting the signs

And cursing the miles in between

 

But Home

Is a feeling

I buried in you

 

I’m alright I’m alright

It only hurts when I breathe

I’m alright I’m alright

It only hurts when I breathe

 

 

            Its night again, I think. The dark curtains in my room block out the daylight. I want to go get her. I want to take her somewhere where no one else exists and lose myself in her. I want her to let go and lose herself in me. When I hold her there is a place where there is no Heaven, there is no Hell, no guilt, no remorse, no anger, no sadness, no vengeance or pain and suffering. There is only love.

            Cordelia knocks on my door. I can smell her perfume. It’s a flowery expensive brand. I don’t answer. I know she’ll come inside anyway. It only takes a moment before she does. She’s holding the cordless phone.

            “It’s Willow.”

            I die inside all over. Willow never calls with good news. I can’t avoid it and much worse can it be. My lover was pulled out of Heaven.

            “Hello,”

            “Angel, is Buffy with you?” the red head asks.

            “No, she should be home by now.”

            “Angel, she’s not here. We haven’t heard from her all day or this evening.” Willow sounded worried, near tears.

            “I’ll be right there.” I said.

           

            As I drive the miles between LA and Sunnydale, I wonder why I didn’t make this trip just to visit her. It’s not that far. I could have gone to patrol with her every once in awhile, just to make sure she was doing ok. The only time I ever made this trip was when Buffy was in trouble.

 

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I left the car in an alley. I put the keys in it. I hope someone will steal it and get far away from here before anyone finds out its stolen. I walk through the alleys, looking at the people living there. They look like me, lost, numb. I wonder if they were ripped out of Heaven too, probably not. No one stops me. No one asks how I’m doing, as if that wasn’t the stupid question of the century. No one tells me I need to eat or sleep or shower.

 

When I breathe

It only hurts when I breathe

When I breathe

It only hurts when I breathe.

 

*

            I woke up in the arch of a beautiful building. There were gargoyles on top of the building. Aren’t they put up there to guard against demons and evil spirits? I wonder why they didn’t attack me.  I stand up and start walking down the street again.

            This is nice. No one notices me here. I’m just a face that looks like every other face out here. I’m not the slayer. I haven’t been to Heaven or to Hell.  I’m just like the woman with the shopping cart full of things, except she has more things.

            More importantly I don’t have to pretend here. I don’t have to smile and laugh with my friends and pretend my heart wasn’t ripped out when Angel left. I don’t have to act like I’ve moved on, like I’m happy with my brand new normal boyfriend. I don’t have pretend to be strong. I don’t have to pretend to be handling things as well as Mom would have.

 

*

 

            The gargoyles watched over me again. I’ve taken to actually sleeping at night and waking in the day. I don’t slay vampires or demons or any other beasts. Okay, if I see one attacking someone in an alley I’ll kill it, but I’m not patrolling and I’m looking for them. That part of me is gone, like all the other parts that were Buffy.

 

Chapter Three

 

          

2 years later:

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            She’s gone. Somehow I think I knew that when I got the call from Willow 2 years ago. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking for her, ever. At first Giles helped me look for her. He flew all over the country after every report of a blond fending off anything resembling a vampire or a demon. He thinks she’s dead. I know that.

           

            I know she’s not dead. I’d like to think that my soul, at least as long as it is in this dimension, would know when its mate had left this plane. Maybe I’m being foolish. Maybe Giles is right and she is dead. If that’s the truth then I don’t accept it. I remember telling her that once before. It was shortly after I’d come back from Hell.  We were still naïve enough to think we could be friends. Only she wised up long before I did. She knew we couldn’t ever be friends, not when we were so much more. She had told me she wasn’t going to see me again. I had said I didn’t accept that, there had to be a way I could see still her. Her response had been, tell me you don’t love me. I tried, but the words wouldn’t come.  My soul wouldn’t allow me to betray it that way.

 

            Besides, she haunts my dreams in the most real way. I spend a lot of time sleeping. Sometimes I think I would never wake up if it meant I could stay with her. If she were dead, she wouldn’t haunt my dreams. It’s not a logical way of thinking, I know, but it helps me deal with her being gone.

 

            Cordy, Gunn and Wes handle most of the demon stuff. During the day I look for her on the computer. During the night I roam the city. I drive to all the nearby towns. I think I’ve visited every small town on the southern California coast. I used to think Cordy would have a vision about her. I know now the powers don’t really care. She obviously is not their lapdog anymore, so they don’t see any reason to keep her safe. Wes warns me that if I don’t work for the Powers, if I don’t work for my redemption, there’s a chance I’ll never get my shanshu. Doesn’t he understand. She was the reason I wanted to be human. Without her, being human doesn’t mean anything.

           

 Cordy and Wes talk about me. I hear them even when they think I don’t, most of the time I ignore them. It’s easier then fighting with them about something they don’t understand. They could never understand. I leave without saying anything to them. They already know where I’m going, the rest is just details.

 

           

            @--Buffy--@

 

            The nights and days run together. I sleep most of the day. The light hurts my eyes.  I’ve become as nocturnal as the creatures I once hunted.  The music is loud. I can’t hear anything over it and that’s the way I’d much rather have things these days.  I swirl my drink and then down it. I can feel the pain creeping back in. It starts a little at a time, trying to sneak up on me. My skin starts jumping, it’s warning me. I look around franticly. I’ve got to stop it.

            I stumble over to the table, aware I’m not as graceful as I once was. Things like strength and grace don’t matter here. They ceased to matter when Buffy died and Jane was born. I don’t know why I picked Jane, except that it is a common name. I didn’t want to be special. I didn’t want people to say, “Oh what a unique name. Is that short for something?” I didn’t want people to remember my name after they’d heard it.

            I bumped the man sitting at the table. “Mike, I need some.”

            He glares at me. “I gave you some earlier.”

            “So, it’s beginning to wear off. I need some more.”

            “If you OD I don’t know who the hell you are.”

            Like you ever did, I think. I lean in close to him and nuzzle his neck. He smells like stale sweat, cigarettes and cheap cologne. My stomach lurches. I remember the clean, beautiful smell of soap and cinnamon mints. I reach into his pocket and take the vial of powder in there. I tuck it in my hand and weave my way to the bathroom.

            I started shooting up between my toes, so no one would know. Now I don’t care. It’s easier to find the vein in my elbow. I sit on the toilet and wait to feel it. I wait for the pain to run and hide back in the darkest recess of the heart and soul I have attempted to kill so many times. When it does I get up and walk out of the bathroom.  I avoid looking in the mirror. I avoid looking in all the mirrors. Even when I put on the makeup that’s too much I don’t really see myself.

            It’s easier now that the pain is in hiding. I never say gone, because it’s always there under the haze of the drugs and the alcohol the pain hovers, waiting to strike. If I let it, it will kill me. Anyway, it’s easier now to dance and laugh and have a good time.  The DJ is playing something new and really awful, but it doesn’t matter. It’s something to dance to and so I dance, hoping this high will last until dawn and it’s time sleep again.

 

*

 

            Sleeping is the worst part of my life now. It’s the part I can’t keep drowned in a haze of drugs. He’s always waiting for me in my dreams. I wonder if I wait for him in his. We used to share each others dreams, literally. Maybe he’s sharing my dreams now.  It’s nice in my dreams, but I know I have to wake up and discover they were just dreams. My Angel didn’t come back and I am all alone. And the pain assaults me, makes even this shadow of a life I have to hard to bear. Sleeping hurts but then I can’t help but look forward to it a little. I know he’ll be there, waiting.

 

            I used to call Giles, just to hear his voice. I never said anything. I knew he’d want me to come back and I knew he wouldn’t understand why I couldn’t.  I still think about calling him sometimes, but most of the time I try to stay in such a haze that I don’t’ care. Sometimes, I don’t even remember who Willow and Xander are. And the memories the monks planted of Dawn couldn’t survive months of heroin and cocaine. I can’t even recall Giles’ face anymore. Somehow, I still remember every detail about Angel. His face, his body, the way he moved so gracefully, predatory in his grace. The way he smelled and the way he looked when he gave me that special half smile.  The way his arms were the only place I felt safe. I dig in my nightstand and find the cocaine Mike promised he’d leave there. I tap a little while powder out and sniff it up.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            The music is loud. I hate places like this. The smell of so many people crammed in one places, with all their individual smells blending into one. It makes my head hurt.  Cordelia swears she had a vision about this place. I’m beginning to wonder if she doesn’t just send me out on wild goose chases just to get me out of the hotel and doing something besides looking for Buffy, especially when the visions are vague, like this one.

           

            I don’t know what I’m looking for, or who. Only that I’m supposed to be here, some place called The Cell. I am trying to mingle, trying to blend in. I’d have to be stoned out of my mind to blend in here.

 

            At first, I ignore it. It’s impossible after all. She would never be in a place like this. The tingling at the back of my neck is getting stronger. I gasp involuntarily. It feels like my heart is beating. I turn around wildly, looking for her. Maybe she’d gotten a prophecy dream and she was here for the same reason I am. I push through the crowds of people.

            “Watch where the hell you’re going asshole.”

           

            I froze. That voice, it was different but it was still the same. It was her voice. “Buffy?” My eyes alighted on the tiny blonde I’d just pushed almost down. I swallowed thickly. It couldn’t be her. Her beautiful hazel eyes were smudged with more black liner then Cordy had ever put on. Her lips were painted a hard bright red. “Buffy?” Maybe she hadn’t heard me over the music, or maybe I’d only said her name in my mind.

 

“A-Angel?”

 

It was a whisper, it sounded like thunder in my head.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice had turned hard, accusing.

           

            “I don’t know. “ I couldn’t remember. “Looking for you.”

 

            “Well you shouldn’t have. “ She turned to go. I grabbed her wrist. It was so tiny, so fragile. She punched me. She had lost a lot of strength. I didn’t let go.

           

            “Buffy, please, come with me.” I begged her. It didn’t matter if she agreed or not. She wasn’t doing very well and that much was obvious from her pitiful thinness, the needle marks on her arms and the hollows under her eyes. She was coming with me, even if I had to drag her out of there kicking and screaming. I doubted anyone in here was sober enough to notice.

 

            “Angel, you made the choice to not be in my life when I was 18. I’ve moved on. Let me go.”

 

            At one time I couldn’t have stopped her even if I had wanted to, now holding her here was only a little more difficult then it would have been if she were a normal human woman.

            “Buffy, what happened?”

 

            “My name is Jane now.” She had stopped struggling to get away.

 

            “I don’t care what name you’re using. Please come with me.” I’d much rather she walked out of here of her own willpower.

 

*

 

*

 

*

            @--Buffy--@

 

            He’s here. I’m not dreaming because my skin is itching, begging for the heroin that I need. In my dreams, I don’t need drugs. He’s my drug. He looks exactly the same and suddenly I’m ashamed of the way I look. I know my skirt is much too short and my halter top shows too much skin. I know I’m too thin and I’m wearing far too much makeup. I place my hand over the bend in my elbow, the place that is bruised and marked by the needle.

 

            He wants me to come with him. I can’t go with him. If Angel walks back into my life for even a little while this carefully constructed façade that hides all the pain will be gone and I don’t know if I can do it again. 

 

            I try to pull away from. He was strong and I’m so very weak, in so many ways.

 

            “Angel, I have to go.” I can see Mike coming over from his table in the club. If he finds me talking to Angel, things will not go well, at least not for Mike or for me, because I have to go home with Mike.

 

            “Buffy, I’ve been looking for you for two years. I’m not letting you walk out of this club without me.” I could see anger tightening around his eyes and mouth.

 

            “Jane, what the hell are you doing with this asshole?” Mike smelled like whiskey. Things never went well when he drank whiskey.

 

            “J-just a very old friend.” I stammered.

 

            Mike glared at Angel. I tried to stand between them. I wanted to tell Mike this was a pissing contest he couldn’t win.

 

            “Jane, get your ass back to the table.” Mike spat.

 

            “Just give me a chance to talk to my friend for a minute.” Angel couldn’t tell Giles and the rest of the gang where I was. I didn’t want to be found. I didn’t want them to see me like this.

            “I told you to get your ass over to the table. When I give you orders, you obey them, bitch.” He slapped me, hard enough to send me reeling, after all I wasn’t the slayer anymore. I was just Jane.

 

            Mike never saw it coming. Angel picked him up and threw him across the club. He flew through 2 tables, shattering them, before he stopped, slumped against the wall. The crowd parted for Angel. He was in vamp face.  He punched Mike several times and then picked him up by the collar. He held him, feet dangling, above the ground.

            “You will never, ever touch her again.” Angel growled.  He always sounded scarier talking around his vamp teeth. He dropped Mike to the floor. Mike pissed his pants. “You’re lucky I don’t kill humans, but I can always make an exception. Remember that.” Mike was crying by now.

 

            Angel caught my elbow as he walked by. He wasn’t even aware he was still wearing his vamp face. “Buffy, I love you.”

            He wasn’t playing fair. Even in vamp face, he busted through my façade and sent all the walls I’d built tumbling down. I’d told him once that I didn’t notice his vamp face, that wasn’t entirely true. It just never bothered me. I loved everything about Angel, including his demon. The pain rushed over me, through me, like a tidal wave. I collapsed under it. He swept me up and carried me out of Hell.

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            She curled into me like a child. She didn’t let go even when we got to the car. I drove back to the hotel with her on my lap. We didn’t say a word. I carried her into the hotel. Cordy, Wes and Gunn were cleaning their weapons. They’d apparently just returned from a battle.

            “Angel?” Cordy said as I walked through the lobby. I walked across the lobby and started up the stairs. “Angel,” Cordy said again, irritated that I didn’t answer her. “Is that Buffy?”

            I turned and looked down on them from the upstairs landing, Buffy still in my arms. “Take the week off.”

            I didn’t want to hear their protests. Buffy weighed so little it was an easy thing to hold her with one hand and open the door with the other. I kicked the door shut behind us. I laid her down on my bed. I had to pry her tiny  hands off my neck.

 

            “Please, please don’t leave me, Angel. It hurts too much.” Tears made black streaks down her face. How could I deny her anything.  I would move heaven and earth to see her smile again. How long had it been since I’d seen her smile? Suddenly it was important that I remember. Did the Day that Wasn’t count? Since she couldn’t remember it, it couldn’t. The last time I saw Buffy smile was the morning we’d both waken up in the mansion, after our “post-slayage” nap. The last time I saw Buffy smile had been almost 5 years ago. How could I possibly have lived for 5 years without her smile?

            I crawled into the bed with her and wrapped my arms around her fragile form. “Never again.” In my prayers I added just don’t let her die and I’ll stay for the rest of her life if that’s what she wants.

Chapter Five

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I wake up screaming. My skin is too tight. It feels like I’m going to claw my way out of it. Maybe this is the way the swim team at Sunnydale felt before they turned into sea monsters. Maybe I’ll crawl out of my skin and the entire world will see what I look like inside, putrid and rotting.

            He’s at my side immediately. He’s holding me and making comforting sounds. I don’t want him to touch me. He sets my skin on fire. I push his hands away. I scream over his soothing noises. I don’t want to be soothed. I want heroin.  “Just call Mike.” I plead with him. “He’ll get me some.”

            He doesn’t say anything and that makes everything worse. He just looks at me and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such pain, even mine. And I’m glad. I want him to hurt. I want him to feel pain. I want him to know how he hurt me. After all, this is his fault.  He could have made it go away. I know I’m not being logical. It’s hard to be logical when you’re crawling out of your skin.

            I’m shivering. It’s so cold and my skin is still screaming. I’m sweating and I’m completely gross and I wish he’d go somewhere else and stop looking at me like I’m the same girl he fell in love with.

           

“Go Away!” I scream. “You’re so damn good at it!”

 

He doesn’t. Instead he comes closer. Why couldn’t he have done this the day I graduated? Why couldn’t he have done this when Mom died? Why did he have to be so damn good at leaving me then? He sits down on the bed. I pull up in a ball and try to get further away. He scoots closer and pulls me into his strong embrace. I scream and flail and hit him. He never stops holding, he never stops talking in quiet whispers. He doesn’t understand. At one time my body screamed for him like this. Now it just wants the heroin.

 

            “Angel, get the hell away from!” I scream again. The nausea sweeps over me suddenly. “Oh God, I’m gonna be sick.” I mumble.  He picks me up to carry me to the bathroom. I puke all over him. It serves him right. If he had left me the hell alone when I told him to he wouldn’t be dealing with this. I didn’t ask him to take me out of there. He probably thinks he saved me. He doesn’t know when he leaves me again I’ll die and it will be even worse. Every time he leaves it gets harder. I die a little more inside. You can only kill a girl so many times before she’s really gone, even a slayer.  He carries me to the bathroom and sets me down on the cool tile floor next to the toilet.  He holds my hair while I throw up again. He sits with me until the dry heaves pass.  He removes his soiled shirt and sits back down on the floor with me.

            I lay my cheek against his chest. It’s cool and that’s soothing to my tight, itchy skin. The silence of his chest is wonderful. There’s no constant thump thump thump to hurt my head or bring the nausea back on. His cool hands stroke my hair and he sings an Irish lullaby.  He acts like it doesn’t matter that I smell like vomit.

 

            “Buffy, do you want to go back to bed?” he asks.

 

            I shake my head slightly. “Can we just stay right here?”

 

            In answer he settles against the tile wall and rubs my back in slow circles.

 

*

 

*

 

*

            @--Angel--@

 

            She is stick thin, even skinnier then Fred.  Her shoulder blades are sharp points beneath her delicate skin. I can feel each vertebra. Her spine stands out against the middle of her back. Her collarbone is a sharp ridge. I have never seen anyone so skinny. She has bruises all over her body. I don’t want to imagine how she got them, although after the encounter with Mike, I have a good idea. I’ll kill him. As soon as Buffy gets well enough to leave for a couple of hours I’ll track him and kill him. I left 17 lawyers for dead once, one scumbag will be nothing.

            She’s finally fallen asleep in my arms. Her breath rattles in her chest. I pick her up gently and carry her back to the bed. She needs a shower. She smells of sweat, smoke, filth and drugs. I’ll settle for clean clothes, for the moment.  I get a long sleeved shirt out of my closet. I slipped her dirty clothes off, trying not to notice that her stomach is concave and hip bones look like they will poke through her skin at any moment. I slide the shirt over her head and down her legs, pulling her thin arms through the sleeves. She stirs, but never wakes up.

            I sit in a chair and watch her sleep. It was once one of my favorite pastimes. She always insisted on sleeping with her window open. I spent hours sitting on the window sill, watching over her sleep. She called me her Guardian Angel when she found out. She used to smile in her sleep. I’d imagine she was dreaming about me. 

            Now her dreams are haunted. She whimpers, drawing up into herself. She wrinkles her forehead and cries. I want to hold her and make the pain go away but I know our history. I’ll end up hurting her, whether I want to or not.  The First Evil told me I was born to hurt her and it was right. I was also born to love her. I don’t know how those to correspond but I know they are both true.

            I’m going to have to call Giles and let him know I’ve found her.  I want to wait until she’s better. He will want to see her. She is, for all practical purposes, the daughter he never had. I thought losing her would kill him.  He has stayed in Sunnydale all these years because he is afraid she will come back and find him gone. He wanted to be there when she came back. How do I tell him she was never going to come back? She was going to stay out there until her lifestyle ended up killing her. I wonder if she has been in LA all this time or if she had just gotten here.  If she’s been living her the entire time I should have found her sooner. Logically I know there are 9,637,494 in Los Angeles alone, but when has logic ever applied to Buffy and I.

            She shivers in her sleep. I pull another blanket up over her skeletal shoulders. She whispers my name in her sleep. I wonder if she has always done that, or if she senses me nearby. I slid into the bed next to her and wrap my body around her. In two hundred and fifty years I have done many horrific things. I was once the vampire that vampires feared. I could write a book on the many ways to torture someone without killing them. I have raped women and killed children. And for the last hundred and fifty years I have regretted every single action. I have felt more guilt then a hundred men. What I have done to Buffy rates as one of the worst. I have never wanted to walk into the sunrise more then I do right now.

           

           

Chapter Six

 

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I wake up sick again. I’ve never understood how a person can throw up when there isn’t anything in their stomach to throw up. I don’t remember the last time I ate. I remember the last time I had heroin. Before I went to the club I had shot up a bunch. I was just going to ask Mike for some more when Angel ran into me. I hurt. I need the drugs, anything will do at this point.  The pain is twisting my bones and flailing my skin from them a little at a time. I beg Angel for them once more. He’s as silent and stalwart as before.

 

            “You don’t understand! You’ve never been addicted to anything!” I scream at him. “It hurts, Angel! It hurts so much it feels like I’m going to lose my mind.” The last is more of a whimper then a scream. He tries to touch me, to hold me. I bat his hands away. Even the slight pressure of those beautiful, cool hands hurts. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me! You lost that right when you left me, or don’t you remember!” I’m screaming again. I want to hurt him. I want anyone to feel as much pain as I do right now. I don’t want to be alone in my pain. I don’t want to be alone anymore.

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I don’t know how I continue to hurt. She has ripped everything out of me. There should be nothing left to feel pain. She screams that I don’t know what it’s like to be addicted. She’s wrong. I know exactly how she feels.  I was once addicted to her like this. I could easily be again. I thought I would die coming to LA. I thought I would die being away from her, without her touch, without her scent, without her smile, without the mere sight of her. I won’t even delve into the discussion of my addiction to human blood, or the difference between human blood and animal blood.

           

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

           

            I don’t know how much time has passed since he found me. When I first came back from Heaven, when I first got lost, I measured time in sunrises and sunsets, hoping the sunsets would bring him back.  After the heroin I started measuring time in between shots. At some point time seemed to fade away. I’m not even sure how long I’ve been gone. It might have been months, it could have been years. It occurs to me I don’t remember how old I am. Angel looks the same as he did when I first met him, so he’s no help.

            I claw at my skin. I have to get it off. It’s too tight. It itches. I don’t stop even when I draw blood.  Angel holds my hands between his. I had forgotten how big his hands were, or how tiny mine were. He holds our hands underneath his chin as if he were in prayer.

 

            “I used to pray for you.” I blurt out. I don’t know where that came from. I try to tug my hands away. He holds them there as if it is nothing.

 

            He nods. “I thanked God when you came back from Heaven.” His voice breaks on the word Heaven. It hurts him to know I was there and now I’m here, like this. “And then when you disappeared, I prayed every night to a God that hates me that you would come back.”

            I soften and for a moment I forget about my too tight skin. I shake my head. “God doesn’t hate you, Angel. He hates the demon inside of you but he doesn’t hate you.” Angel nods. I’m not sure if he believes me and he’s trying to process it or he’s just nodding because he doesn’t know what to say to the crazy woman sitting on his bed. We are both quiet for a little while. The silence is comfortable and welcoming.

 

            “Do you think you could eat something? Maybe have a little bit of hot tea?” He finally asks. I wonder when the last time someone told me I needed to eat was. I vaguely recall that was one of the things I was running away from, however long ago it was. Giles used to make me tea with milk. I remember. I always added lots of sugar.  He always told me one day I’d learn to drink tea properly, without sugar.

            I nod and my voice cracks when I answer. “I’ll try, a little anyway.”

 

            “Do you want me to bring it up here or would you like to come downstairs?” he asks.

            “Here is good.” I don’t tell him I’m scared of anything beyond this room. Once upon a time I wasn’t scared of anything, not a hell god, not even death. He releases my hands and looks deep into my eyes. I look away. I don’t want him to see what’s inside of me.

            “Buffy, I’ll be right back. I promise.” He reassures me. He seems to know I need that reassurance right now. He always did know exactly what I needed, right up until the day he left me. That’s not fair, not really. He still knew when I needed him. He came back to apologize after the Faith incident in LA. He came back for my Mom’s funeral and he came to me when I was ripped out of Heaven. Angel has always known when I needed him, and just how to make it all better, at least for a little while.

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            “Nice of you to come out of the bat cave.”

 

            I look up, but I know there is only one person that sharp wit can belong to. Cordy is sitting at her desk

            “I’m not going to ask, but you should know I have a water gun full of holy water under my desk and Wes is in his office with a loaded crossbow.”

 

            I snarl. How can she think I could even come close to achieving anything near perfect happiness with Buffy in the condition she is in. “I thought I told you and Wes to take the week off.”

            Cordy shrugged. “Tell the Powers that Be not to give me anymore visions then. You may have given up the mission to find Blondie up there, but we haven’t.”

 

            I know I should care that she had a vision. I know I should be out there trying to help. I can’t bring myself to leave Buffy. I don’t even like being away from her right now. I walk through the lobby without another word to Cordy and into the kitchen. I fill up the tea kettle with water and start rummaging through the cabinets. Wes walks in and begins to prepare the teapot.

 

            “I can do that, Wes.”

           

            “I know, but I’d like to help. I was her watcher once, a pitiful excuse for one, but none the less. How is she?”

 

            He sounds sincere.

 

            “I don’t want Giles knowing yet.” I clarify before I say anything. Wes nods. I get crackers out of the cabinet and start spreading extra crunchy peanut butter on them. I have never forgotten. I know I never will. “She’s-“ My voice breaks. I take several breaths trying to continue, trying not to break down completely. Wes knows she was in Heaven. I had to tell someone when I came back from seeing her, when she disappeared. Cordy certainly hadn’t wanted to hear it. “She’s not doing well. She’s addicted to heroin and who knows what else. She’s so weak.” Somehow that bothers me more then anything. She was once so strong, so beautiful. It was more then physical strength. Her heart was strong, her spirit was strong. There was never a time she would have allowed that creep, Mike, to talk to her, or anyone else like he had. She would have never allowed him to hit her and from all appearances it looked like he had been beating her.  I continue to speak, even though I didn’t really intend to tell Wes all this.  “She has bruises and track marks all over her body. She’s so skinny. I doubt she weighs more then seventy five pounds. She doesn’t want to live. It’s a miracle she hasn’t found a way to kill herself with drugs before this.” I can’t help it. I break down.  The more I try to get a hold of myself the worse it gets. I end up in the corner of the kitchen on the floor, crying like a child. Wes in all his Bristishness is sitting beside me, a cup of tea growing cold in his hand, unsure of exactly what to do.

            After a time, I gather my emotions again and stand up. “I’m sorry.” I feel the need to apologize to Wes.

 

            Wes shakes his head and pats my shoulder. “Angel, you needed someone to talk to, anyone would. I’m glad I could be there for you.”

 

            He finishes preparing a tea tray and I finish making the peanut butter crackers.  I take the bottle of brandy down from the cabinet and pour a bit in the tea pot. I hope it will ease some of the withdrawal symptoms she’s going through. He tells me if there is anything else he can do to let him know. I nod in acceptance. I need to get back to her. She’ll wonder where I’ve gone. As I begin to climb the stairs, I turn back to the lobby. Cordy is still there, typing on the computer.

            “Cordy, when did I bring Buffy back?”

 

            She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I think perhaps she is right. “Last night.” She responds.

 

            Last night. I climb the stairs wearily. I wonder, just how far can angels really fall.

Chapter Seven

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

 

            I eat a little, mostly to make Angel stop worrying.  I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the saddest thing in the world.  The tea is good. He put something alcoholic in it and I’m grateful.  It makes my bones straighten out and loosens my skin just a little bit.

            The nausea comes again and I try to will it away. Just how many times can I throw up on this man before he gets tired of it. It’s not working. I’m going to throw up again. I lurch up out of the bed and almost fall. Angel catches me and carries me to the bathroom. He waits with me while I throw up. He never stops touching me. I look down at myself and am disgusted. I don’t want him to remember me this way, whether he leaves, or I die. I want him to remember me in my pink dress at the prom. It has been a lifetime since I was that girl.

 

            “Angel, do you remember my prom?” My voice sounds small.

 

            He smiles a very sad smile. “Every detail. You have always been beautiful to me, but that night there were no words for how lovely you were.”

 

            “I was glad you came, even though I knew you were leaving me afterwards. I don’t know if I ever told you that, that I was glad you came.”

 

            He looks down at his feet, like he is going to say something, but he doesn’t. I wonder what he was thinking about saying. Was he sorry he left me? Did he know that’s when everything started to come apart for me?

 

            “Angel, can I take a bath?”

 

            “I’ll draw one for  you.” He begins looking in the cabinets for bubble bath, soap and shampoo.

 

            “Hot, please.” I draw my bony knees up to my thin chest and wrap my arms around them. I watch him. I have forgotten what it is like to have beauty like him in my life.

            He fills the tub with vanilla scented bubble bath and my chest aches. I remember that smell. It was my favorite before I got lost. He squats down in front of me and takes my hands in his.

            “Do you want me to leave?” he asks.

 

            For a minute I wonder if he means forever or just while I take a bath. I decide, and hope, he means while I take a bath. I nod. “But stay close?” It is a question, a request.

 

            He nods and stands up. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything, please call.”

 

            I stand up on shaky legs and take his shirt off. I avoid looking in the mirror as I step into the steaming bath. The bathtub is a very deep, old fashioned claw foot one. I don’t remember the last time I took a hot bath like this. The water in Mike’s apartment is brownish and tepid at best. It did not inspire long soaks.

 

            I can hear Angel. He is pacing slowly outside the bathroom door, probably brooding. He is making good on his promise to stay close.  I wonder, briefly, if I could drown in the tub. I’m afraid after everything I’ve done in my life I really would go to hell this time and Willow wouldn’t be around to pull me back.  I sent Angel to hell.  I think that’s when I started dying.  I’d sent the man I loved more then anything else in this world to hell and no one cared. Xander was even happy. Everyone thought I should just move on. How was I supposed to move on when my heart and soul were in hell?

            There is a soft knock on the door. His voice comes through. “Buffy, are you okay?”

            I lean forward, pulling my knees to my chest. I wonder if I don’t answer will he come in. Then I decide that’s cruel. He’s obviously worried about me. “I’m fine.”

 

            There is a pause and then he asks, “Can I come in?  I’ll sit with my back turned. I just-“ he stops. I know what he means. He is afraid I’ll leave again. I am well acquainted with the feeling.

 

            “It’s okay. There are lots of bubbles.” I say.

 

            He opens the door a crack and peeks in before walking all the way inside. He shuts the door and sits on the toilet with his back to me. He has always been a gentleman and I am reminded he grew up in a different time.

 

            “Angel, why didn’t you hate me when I sent you to hell?” I ask.

 

            He is silent for a moment. I do not think he is going to answer me.  Finally he speaks. “I could never hate you, Buffy. No matter what you do to me. You are my salvation. You saved me, in every way a person can be saved. Besides, I knew if you were sending me to Hell, you had to. You would never do that unless there was no choice. I knew that even when you ran the sword through me, and I forgave you.”

 

            My eyes tear at that. I can’t forgive myself. That’s just one of the many weights I carried on my shoulders when I leapt into that portal. It had been such a relief to just let go of it all.

 

            “What’s it like?” I asked.

 

            “What?” He’s playing dumb with me, hoping I’ll forget the question or I’ll come to the conclusion he’s uncomfortable with it and drop it.

 

            “Hell, what’s it like.”

 

            “Buffy, you don’t really want to talk about this right now.”

 

            Correction, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. I want to know where I’m going to go when I die, again. I want to know what to expect.  “Will you tell me, some other time.”

 

            He sighs. “Sometime, when you’re feeling better, I’ll tell you. Lean forward, I’ll shampoo your hair.”

 

            *

           

            It isn’t long before my skin is crawling again. My body has decided to take up another rebellion at the lack of heroin in it. I can’t fight it this time. I’m not strong enough. I sit on the bed, huddled against the headboard. I am shivering, cold sweat poring from me. Sobs wrack my body and sometimes I can only sit and scream. Angel is huddled there with me, his arms around me, pulling my body back against his. He holds my arms so I can not tear at my hair and claw at my already raw skin.

            The door opens and someone rushes in. I can not see who it is.  My head is tucked into Angel’s chest. A very British voice speaks and I know its Wesley. “Is everything alright in here? We heard screaming downstairs.”

            We must mean him and Cordelia. “We’re fine, Wes. Thank you.” That’s Angel. I can feel his words vibrating in his chest.

            The door closes again and I wonder if he’s gone. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. “Is he gone?” My voice sounds broken and hoarse.

            “He’s gone. He was just worried.” Angel says.

 

            I doubt that, but I don’t say anything. Wesley was never worried about me except in my capacity as a slayer. I was just a weapon to him, a weapon to use and then discard in a never ending war against evil.

            I do not know how long Angel and I sat like that, huddled together. At some point my body begins to wear out and I start to drift off to sleep. He laid me down on the bed and piled blankets on me. I wanted to tell him he was the only blanket I needed, his body. He lay down beside me and begin to work the tangles out of my hair with his fingers. I drifted off to sleep feeling safer then I had in a very very long time.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I slip out of the bed carefully. I don’t want to wake her up. She needs to sleep so badly and at least when she’s asleep she doesn’t try to hurt herself. I go to the small refrigerator in the room and take a bag of blood out. The last time I ate was before I found Buffy and I need to stay strong, for her.

            I finish eating . Buffy seems to be sleeping soundly so I go downstairs, leaving the door open so I can hear the slightest sound she makes. I am surprised to find it’s still dark outside. It feels like days have passed. 

            I walk out into the courtyard to sit. I am surprised to see Fred sitting there too.  She smiles at me and I find it is impossible not to smile back at her.

 

            “You’re glad she’s back, aren’t you?” Fred asks. Her Texas twang has lessened but it’s still there.

            I nod. I don’t know what to say.

 

            “Cordelia told us she’s the love of your life.”

 

            “She is. She always has been.” I answer honestly.

 

            “Is she going to stay, when she gets better, I mean.” Fred asked.

 

            That’s a question I’ve been asking myself.  Buffy and I have always had problems discussing the future. Buffy had always lived in the here and now. It was easy to live that way with her. “I don’t know.  We haven’t gotten that far.”

 

            “I know she’s real sick. I’m not snooping, I promise but sometimes I can hear her through the wall. She cries a lot.” Fred sounds apologetic.

            “She’s very sick. I hope she’s getting better. I’m doing everything I can to make her better.” I stand up. I’ve been gone long enough. I don’t want her to wake up and realize I’m not there. There have been too many times in her life when I haven’t been there. I acutely regret every single one of them I start to go and turn around.

 

            “Thank you, Fred.”

 

            “Well, what for?” she asks, that confused look on her face.

 

            “Because when I came back, you were the only one who didn’t act like it didn’t matter that she was alive. You’ve always been the only one that didn’t act like I was crazy for spending all this time looking for her.”

 

            Fred laughed that little nervous laugh of hers. “You weren’t crazy, and I know from crazy. You were in love.  If I ever found someone who I loved that much, I couldn’t just let them go either.”

Chapter Eight

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

 

            It’s been almost a week since Angel saved me. I still haven’t left this room. It feels safe here. Everything smells like him. It’s dark and it’s cozy and he always makes sure it’s warm. I’ve stopped having withdrawals, but I haven’t stopped wanting the drugs. All the pain, all the reasons I left Sunnydale, all the reasons I started taking drugs, are coming back.

            I sit in his bed, his blankets pulled up to my chin and try to catalogue my pain. Maybe if I can identify everything and put it in neat little boxes, like  Mom used to do with photographs, then it won’t hurt as much. Where did my pain start? It would be easy to say it started when I was called, and that’s true to some extent, but any pain I felt before my seventeenth birthday paled in comparison to what I felt afterwards.

            Angelus killed a little piece of me. I remember thinking I would die.  It made things all the worse that this was my fault. In one moment of passion, I had killed the person who meant the most to me. And then I had to send Angel to Hell. No one will ever know what that cost me, certainly not my friends. Xander and Willow had told me to “kick his ass”. When Angel left me, he took my heart and my soul with him. I didn’t think there was anything left to kill after that. I never blamed Riley for leaving me. I had never been fair to him. I cared about him but I never loved him. It wasn’t my fault, really. You can’t give something away that you don’t have. I held onto the hope that Angel would come back for a year or so. It took a long time to accept that he was never going to be mine.

            When Mom died, everything that was left of me died. She was the one person in this world that had to love me unconditionally. What’s the saying, Home is where when you go there they have to take you. Once Mom was gone, no one had to take me. The little girl that was left in me died and since Angel had all the other parts of me all that was left was the slayer. As the slayer, I knew I was replaceable, that had already been proven with Kendra and Faith. Ok, so Faith wasn’t poster child of the year for Slayers ‘R’ us, but she was still a slayer, the slayer that had replaced Kendra.

            When I saw the chance to dive into that big beautiful portal, there was nothing tying me to this world. Dawn would be taken care of just as easily, and better, by Giles. Mom was gone. I know now she was in Heaven, maybe I knew that then, somewhere inside. Angel had a whole new life in LA that didn’t include me. I was ready to die, I wanted the pain to end.

            And it had ended. Heaven had been a beautiful peaceful place. I don’t remember much, but I do remember feeling safe and loved and happy.   It hurt so much when Willow brought me back.  People aren’t meant to come back from there.

            There is a knock on the door, it interrupts my cataloging. I glance up as Angel walks in. He has a bag with him. He sits it down on the floor and then crawls up in the bed with me.

 

            “Buffy, I want you to come downstairs. We’ll order in anything you want for dinner tonight, but I want you to eat it downstairs with me and the others.” His voice was soft but firm. I wouldn’t wiggle out of this one easily.

           

            “I don’t have any clothes and I can’t go downstairs wearing only your sweater.” It is the only excuse I can come up with that isn’t to close to the truth. He stands up and takes a pair of jeans and an ivory sweater out of the bag.

 

            “I bought these for you. I think they will fit, they might be a little bit big. I asked Fred about sizes.”

 

            I know from our conversations earlier this week that Fred is the girl they brought back from Pylea, the place Angel was when I died. I hate when he does this. I hate when he takes away the easy excuses and makes me use the real ones.

 

            “Angel, I’m scared.” My entire world has existed in this room and I know I am loved and I am safe in this room. Outside of this room everything is uncertain and it scares me.

            Angel pulls me into his arms.  He strokes my hair and kisses the crown of my head. “Buffy, I promise you I will not let anything happen to you. It’s just downstairs. You’ll be safe.”

 

            He doesn’t understand, it’s not monsters or demons or anything that goes bump in the night that scares me. It’s Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn and Fred. I’m scared of the judgments they will make and the things they will say. I know I have to do this sometime though. I can not live in his room for the rest of my life, no matter how much I may want to.

 

            “Can we have pizza?”  I ask.

 

            Angel laughs and hugs me very tightly. “We can have pizza.”

 

           

 

@--Angel--@

 

 

            I bought her clothes. I wanted to buy them myself, instead of just sending Cordelia to get them. I remember how beautiful she always looked in ivory.  I have talked to everyone about being on their best behavior, particularly Cordelia. I know this is an important step for Buffy and if it goes badly she could lock herself in my room for weeks, or worse she could run away again.

 

            I have rearranged the room we use for a den a dozen times. I have asked Fred’s opinion on tonight, because she knows what it’s like to return to a houseful of people after relative solitude. If anyone identifies with Buffy’s situation, Fred will. She says that dinner at a table is daunting. We’re eating pizza in the den from paper plates. I have asked Gunn to pick up the movie “The Princess Bride” at the video store. I remember it is one that Willow and Buffy often watched over and over when they stayed at her house. I hope the familiarity of the movie will make her more comfortable. It will also prevent anyone from feeling like they have to talk.

 

            Cordy, Wes, Fred and Gunn are already in the lobby talking about the day when she comes down. I run up the stairs to meet her at the top. I don’t want her to feel like she’s walking into the proverbial lion’s den. She is beginning to look like herself.  Her golden hair falls over her shoulders. The bulkiness of the sweater and jeans hide her skeletal form. The purple smudges beneath her eyes aren’t quite as noticeable. She wears no makeup. She is barefoot. I forgot to get shoes, or maybe I knew she couldn’t runaway without shoes. Her feet are beautiful, tiny, delicate and unmarked by the life she has led for two years.

 

            She is trembling as I take her hand. I squeeze it and smile at her. I see Cordelia elbow Wes out of the corner of my eye. My keen hearing picks up her whispers. “See, that’s Buffy face.” She takes a deep breathe. She heard it too.

 

            “Its okay, Willow swears I have an Angel face too.” She tries to smile as she says it. My heart swells with love for her, for the courage and spirit that life has tried so hard to kill. Cordelia has the decency to look embarrassed. When we reach the foot of the stairs I make introductions.

 

            “Buffy, you know Wes and Cordy. This is Gunn and Fred, the other members of my team.”

 

            Fred, bless her heart, is the first to step up. She hugs Buffy and I notice Buffy pulls back from it a bit. It doesn’t seem to bother Fred. She remembers what it’s like to not want to be touched. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Buffy. I’m really glad you’re here with us, and I know Angel is.”

 

            Buffy looks down at her feet, red coloring her face.  Gunn steps forward and shakes her hand.  “Charles Gunn, I’ve heard a lot of really good things about you. Nice to meet you.”

 

            “Buffy, good to see you again.” Wesley says.

 

            Cordelia hugs Buffy very briefly. It is the same sort of hug she gives anyone from Sunnydale, as if she doesn’t want someone from LA thinking she might possibly know this person. “Ok, so pizza is in the den. Let’s go eat before it gets cold.” Cordelia is trying to be a good hostess.

 

            I hang back. Letting everyone else go ahead of us. I pull Buffy close and whisper to her, “You’re doing great.” She smiles very slightly at me and nods.

            The others are already digging into the pizza boxes when we get to the den. I pull Buffy onto the couch with me and get two plates of pizza. I hope if I eat she’ll feel more comfortable.

 

            “And the special feature tonight, is ‘The Princess Bride’” Gunn says, pulling the DVD out of the bag. 

 

            I would die a thousand deaths to see the smile that comes over Buffy. It’s not the same smile I saw so long ago the morning before I broke up with her, but it’s a smile, a real smile that reaches her eyes. Her voice is very quiet when she speaks. “I love that movie.”

 

            “I remember.” I tell her. She has made the entire room disappear.  It’s not until Fred speaks that I remember there are other people here.

 

            “I used to love that movie. I haven’t seen it since I went to Pylea though.”

 

            I have never seen the movie and I don’t see it this time. She is much more interesting to watch. As she watches the movie I can see glimpses of my Buffy. It takes a weight off my shoulders to know that she is still there, underneath everything else. She has a long way to go, but at least now I have hope she’ll get there. I recall something she told me on a cold winter morning when it snowed in Southern California.

 

            -“Strong is fighting, it’s hard and its everyday, and we can do it together.”-

 

            Watching her, I know we can do anything together.

 

 

           

Chapter Nine

 

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            Angel took me shopping. I didn’t want to ever return to Mike’s apartment and I can’t wear Angel’s things for the rest of my life, not to mention I could fit three of me inside one of his shirts. I didn’t buy much. I wanted to get out of the stores where the lights are bright and the people are too friendly. I don’t know them. I don’t want them hanging around me. I found it helps to go shopping with a big glowery man. Angel is very intimidating when he wants to be. He is also very protective of me.  I remember I used to like shopping, I don’t remember why.

            Giles is coming to see me tomorrow.  I don’t know if I’m ready to see him or not. I’m scared. Part of me longs to see him. He is the only father I have ever really known. He is bringing Willow with him. I’m terrified to see her. It’s her fault I’m no longer in Heaven. I was once so angry with her. The drugs and time burned the anger away. I’m just scared now.

            Angel walks in the room. How is it that no matter how large a room is, he takes up all the space? I told Willow once that the lights dim everywhere else when he is around. They still do. Angel seems to be the only thing in my life that has remained constant.

 

            “Fred is ordering Thai food. It should be here in a little while. I think she ordered one of everything on their menu.” He chuckles a bit when he says this.  He is probably right. I think she ate an entire pizza last night all by herself. I don’t know how she stays so skinny.

 

            “Angel, I’m scared.” My voice sounds small, even to me. He is beside me in an instant, his arms around me. There are good things about vampire speed.

 

            “Of Thai food?” He grins at me. I love it when he makes jokes. He doesn’t do it often enough. He pushes my hair out of my eyes. “They love you, Buffy. They missed you and they just want to see you.”

 

            “I know and part of me wants to see them.” I look down at our hands, which have automatically entwined. This kind of intimacy has become natural but he has yet to kiss me. I think it scares him. Angel sits quietly, patiently waiting me out. He knows if he waits long enough I will confess. I have never been good at keeping secrets.  “The other part wants to stay locked up in here with you, forever.”

 

            He lifts our hands to his lips and kisses them. I know part of him wants the same thing I do. “When we lived in Sunnydale, do you know what my favorite part of the day was?” he asks. I shake my head. “My favorite part of the day was at the end of yours, when we had finished patrol and you would tell me about all the things that happened to you during the day. It made it seem almost like I was there with you and through you, I got to walk in the sunlight.  I would hold you and I could smell the sunshine on you.  If you stop living, you not only deprive yourself of those things, you deprive me of them. I want to see you live, Buffy. I want to watch you walk in the sunlight. I want what I’ve always wanted, for you to be happy.”

 

            Oh God, he’s leaving me again. He’s going to send me back with Giles and the only time I will ever see him again is when someone dies. I can’t help it, I start to cry. “You’re leaving me again. You promised you wouldn’t leave. You promised the night you found me.”

 

            He pulls me into his arms. “No, Buffy. I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stay as long as you need me.”

 

            I echo words I have said to him before. “How about forever? Does forever work for you?” He does not say anything. He does not understand, I will always need him, just like I need my lungs or my heart, I need my Angel. He kisses the top of my head and strokes my hair, much the same way he did the night I buried Mom.  He is the only thing that got me through that horrid night. The memory of his embrace was enough to get me through all the other horrid nights.

 

*

 

            I look in the mirror again. I am mostly stalling for time. Giles and Willow are downstairs. I am wearing a pair of the baggy jeans and a sweater that Angel and I bought. I have re-done my hair a dozen times. I have it pulled up in a clip now. I gather my courage and walk to the door. It did not take this much courage to dive into the portal. I open the door and I can hear them talking to Angel downstairs. I can not hear what they are saying, but tears come to my eyes when I hear Giles’ distinct English accent. I have missed him. I am still scared.

            They look up when I walk in the lobby of the beautiful old hotel. Giles look so old. I do not remember him looking that old and Willow is so beautiful. She has grown her hair long again.

            Giles catches me in uncharacteristic hug and I am moved to tears. I hug him back and cry on his shoulder. “I missed you so much.” I manage to say through sobs.  When we finally let go there are tears in his eyes also. Willow is crying and I hug her.  She does not hug back as hard as Giles and I can tell she is still angry that I left. I understand. Maybe one of these days I will have my best friend back.

            The silence that follows is awkward.

 

            “Buffy, do you want me to leave you three alone?” Angel asks me.

 

            I shake my head. I need him here. He is still my rock, my strength. “No, please don’t.” This seems to make things even more awkward. I don’t care.

 

            “Uhm, Xander wanted to come. He had to work though.” Willow says.

 

            “Is he still doing construction?” I ask, more to keep the silence away then anything.

 

            Willow smiles. “He’s got his own company now. It’s a small company. He’s doing really well for himself.”

 

            “Is he still with-“I struggle to remember her name. So many things in my mind are a haze.

 

            “No. He and Anya ended about a year and a half ago.” Willow looks down at her hands and I follow her gaze. I notice a wedding band on her finger. So Xander finally woke up and saw Willow for what she was.

 

            “I’m happy for you, Will.” It comes out naturally. I didn’t expect it to. She looks up and smiles at me.

 

            “We got married almost a year ago. It surprised everyone, including us.” Willow laughed. “Xander and I are happy together.”

 

            I might as well get the hardest question, at least for me, out of the way early. “H-how’s Dawn?” I ask. If it’s something bad I don’t want to hear but I have to know if she has a good life. If she took advantage of the life I gave her.

 

            Willow’s eyes fill with pride. “Dawnie is doing really good in school. She’s 16 now and she’s pushing Xander and me to get her a car. She’s popular and she’s beautiful and she reminds me of you when you were 16.  She took it hard when you left. I was afraid she’d never smile again and then the courts said she had to go live with your Dad. She ran away once. When Xander and I got married we talked to Hank. He signed over guardianship to us. Dawn lives with us. She hasn’t seen him in months.”

 

            “I always thought Giles would take Dawn.” I said.

 

            “Well, I tried, but I’m a single man and I’m not a citizen in this country. The courts were rather contrary about allowing me to have guardianship over a 15 year old girl.” Giles says.

 

            “But you see her?” I ask Giles. This is important to me, I don’t know why. It’s important that Dawn and I share the same father figure. It’s important that I know the same person who gave me love and support will be there to give the same things to Dawn when she needs them.

 

            “Dawn works part time in the Magic Shop after school and at least once a week Xander, Willow and Dawn come to dinner.” Giles says with a smile.

 

            It’s good to know their lives have worked out well. It eases the guilt I have felt over leaving them. “And the Hellmouth, is it still…Hellmouthy?” I ask.

 

            “Yes, well, that’s rather complicated.” Giles begins. “After you-disappeared, the council didn’t have many choices. Another slayer was never activated. They evaluated Faith and found her to be of sound mind. They arranged for her parole. She has changed. She’s more serious about her job now. She wants to make amends and she wants to do good. I am her watcher. The council was hesitant to give me another slayer, considering I’d let mine die, be resurrected and then got her lost, but my experience with the Hellmouth was the deciding factor.”

 

            I look at him in hurt silence. I guess I just assumed I would always be his only slayer. “Well, it’s good that Faith got my life finally, she’s always wanted it.” I stand up and turn on my heel. The tears are coming hot and fresh to my eyes. Angel grabs my wrist.

            “That’s not fair, Buffy.” Giles says. “You have no idea what we all went through when you left. We had just gotten you back from a hell dimension-“

           

            “From Heaven!” I scream. “I was in Heaven and you ripped me out of there.” I cover my mouth with my hand. Oh God, I didn’t mean to say that. Giles and Willow look at me in shock.

 

            Willow shakes her head. “No, Buffy, Glory came from a hell dimension. That portal led to Hell.”

 

            “Will, I died saving the world. Did you really think that God would be that cruel to send me to Hell after that?” I whisper. I half hope she doesn’t hear me. I would like to rewind this entire scene.

 

            Willow grows very pale and sits down. Giles seems to have aged years in moments. Angel squeezes my hand very hard.

 

            “Oh, God, Buffy. I’m-I didn’t know. Oh, God.” Willow says.

 

            I shrug. “I know. You thought you were doing a good thing. I know that, Willow. It didn’t make it any easier to be here though.  Everything was so bright and so loud. Everything hurt so badly.  People aren’t meant to come back from there. And then, after I met with Angel, I just couldn’t go back. I couldn’t go back and act like it didn’t matter that he was leaving me again. I couldn’t go back and act like I was happy. I couldn’t face it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run away and hurt everyone. I just couldn’t do it anymore. When I died I thought finally I get to rest. I finally get to stop being the slayer. Only, I didn’t. I had to come back and there was so much more I had to be then just the slayer. I couldn’t do it again.” I was crying, again. I guess it was okay, because Willow was crying and Giles and Angel were doing the stalwart man thing, trying not to cry.  Willow and I hugged and cried some more.

 

            By the time Willow and Giles left, I thought we were on the way to being normal again. I also knew they would be the easiest to mend fences with. One of these days I’d have to talk to Dawn and I didn’t know how I was going to do that. How do say I died for you Dawnie, but I couldn’t stay there and live for you without it sounding like I didn’t care enough to stay.   I watch the lights of Giles spiffy red convertible disappear into the night. I still associated Giles with the ancient citron he drove for so long.  Once they were out of sight, I felt like collapsing. I was drained emotionally, and physically.

 

            “How are you?” Angel asks.

 

            I walk to him and let him fold me into his arms. There is no place on this earth, or in Heaven, I’d rather be. “I’m tired. I’m weak. It hurts and I want it to just go away. I want heroin or cocaine or even a little bit of pot.”

 

            He smiles at me. He understands that wanting doesn’t mean I’m going to give in. “How about a walk on the beach instead?”

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            We walk on the beach hand in hand.  I am so proud of her. I know how hard it was for her to see Giles and Willow.  She handled it with the same grace and dignity she handles everything.  That is only one of the reasons I love this woman so much.

 

            “I remember the last time we walked on the beach.” She says.

 

            I look at her confused. Buffy and I have never walked on the beach.

 

            “I remember the day you were human, Angel.” She says it as though she is remembering to get milk at the grocery store. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I understand.”

 

            “How?” It is all I can make myself say.

 

            She sighs. “In Heaven, I could watch over you. I could share your memories.  I saw all the things you had done as Angelus and I loved you. I felt how much pain you were in and I wanted to make it go away so badly. I wanted to tell you not to worry, that I would never leave you. I still loved you, even from there. I wanted you to know I was waiting for you, no matter how long it took, I was waiting for you.”

 

            “Buffy, how can you love me and know all the things I did?” It is a question that has plagued me since I met her.

           

            She smiles at me. Oh God, she smiled at me. I can feel the heart I don’t have beating. “Everything that Angelus did made you the man you are today and I love the person you are. I love your heart, I love your honor, and I love your soul.”

 

            I can’t help it. I promised myself I wouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself anymore then I could stop myself from falling in love with her. I pull her to me and kiss her lips. She tastes like Heaven. I force myself to pull away before either of us loses control.

 

            “You thought about that day a lot, the Day that Wasn’t.” she says.

 

            I nod. “I was angry and bitter. I traded my humanity for 18 months of your life. I had expected it would buy much much more. If I had known, I would have stayed human and spent every moment of the time we had left with you in my arms.”

 

            “And I would have been killed by a demon. The only reason Willow was able to bring me back was because I died a magical death. She was able to beg for my life back because it wasn’t supposed to happen, because I died in Dawn’s place.”

 

            “But you’d still be in Heaven.” I remind her.

 

            She smiles a sad, sweet smile. “Yes, but I wouldn’t be here with you.”

Chapter Ten

 

**The song lyrics are Absence of Fear by Jewel**

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I come down from my room. Cordy is at her desk flipping through the latest fashion magazine. Wes is in his office. 

 

            “Morning, Cordy.”

 

            She glances up at me. “Morning.”

 

            I rest my hands on the curved desk. Cordy is still angry at me because of all the time I have been spending with Buffy. I would like to resolve things with her. She’s my seer and I’m going to have to work with her.

 

            “So, how are you?” I ask.

 

            Cordelia gives me the eye over her copy of Vogue. “I’m just peachy. You?”

 

            I smile. “I’m good.”

 

            “The smiling thing is becoming a regular thing with you.” She remarks. She’s right.  I can’t help but smile. Buffy and I are as close to living together as we will ever get. That’s another thing that Cordy is angry about. “Where did you learn how to smile anyway? Dorks R Us?”

 

            So maybe the resolution won’t be forthcoming anytime soon. I pick up a banana from a bunch on the desk. Cordy gives me another evil look. “Those were mine. Wanna take two so you can encourage little Buffy to eat by eating one yourself?”

 

            I’ve learned the best thing to do when Cordy gets like this is to just ignore her. I can hear Buffy’s music from the courtyard. I walk out and stand under the cover of the arbor. She is doing the tai chi I taught her. She has her CD player out there and the music is turned up loud. I have tried to explain to her that tai chi is meditative and should be done in quiet. She insists she meditates better with the music. It is soft and slow.

 

 

Inside my skin

There is this space

It twists and turns

It bleeds and aches

 

Inside my heart

There’s an empty room

It’s waiting for lightening

It’s waiting for you

 

 

            The sun is shining down on her. She looks every bit the angel she is, almost glowing from within. She has gained some weight, although she could stand to gain a bit more. Her hair is once again shiny and healthy. She glances up and notices me watching and smiles. It is a real smile. It reaches all the way to her eyes and it is the same smile that I have dreamed about all these years. I am hit with the sudden realization that I let her go when I had just gotten her back and almost lost her again. When she came back from Heaven I should have swept her up and carried her back here and never ever let her go. I wonder how different things would have been for her, for us, if I had of done just that. I know from some of the things she has said, that seeing me when she returned was the last straw. She ran away not entirely because of me but I was the final blow.

 

I am wanting

And I am needing you

To be here

Inside the Absence of fear

 

Muscles and Sinew

Velvet and stone

This vessel is haunted

It creaks and it moans

 

 

            She walks to me and takes my arm. Together we move into the first position of Tai chi. the world disappears and nothing but Buffy and me exists. She is singing very softly to me. Anyone else listening would say she can not sing. To me the words are beautiful.

 

My bones call to you

In a separate skin

I make myself translucent

To let you in

 

I am wanting and

I am needing you

To be here

Inside the absence of fear

 

There is the splendor of this

Secret inside of me

And it knows that you’re no stranger

You’re my gravity

 

My hands will adore you

Throughout all darkness, and they will

Lay you out in the moonlight

And vent your name

 

For I am wanting and

I am needing you

To be here

I need you near

Inside the absence of fear.

 

 

            The song ends and Buffy settles back against my chest. I can feel her warmth seeping into me. She smells like vanilla and sunshine.

           

            “Pretty song,” I comment more to keep her in my arms then anything.

 

            She tilts her head back and smiles up at me. “It reminds me of you.”

 

            It reminds me of her too, and how everything inside of me wants her. She tells me it by someone named Jewel.  I remember the banana I brought for her and offer it to her. “Did you eat breakfast?”

 

            She wrinkles her nose in that way that I find adorable and shakes her head.

            “Eat, then if you’re up to it we’ll go downstairs and train. “

 

            “Oh, goody. Do I get to tackle you?” She grins impishly at me. I can not help but chuckle.

            “We’ll see. I don’t want to throw too much at you at once.” I have noticed her strength is coming back.  I do not know what the future holds for her, or for us, but I know she is still a slayer and she will have to be able to defend herself.  I know the day is coming when someone finds out she’s back. They will come for her, they always do.  Everything evil wants a chance to topple the greatest slayer history has known.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

 

            Angel and I have been training.  I’m not up to full strength yet, but I’m getting there.  It has been so long since I trained, or slayed, I thought I would forget everything but the slayer in me took over and it’s like breathing. I forgot how much a part of me loves this, especially when it’s not impending death and apocalypse. 

            Last night Angel took me to one of the LA cemeteries. We staked a couple of vamps and walked through the beautiful old tombstones hand in hand. I must be the only girl in the world that thinks there’s something romantic about a graveyard. 

            Willow has asked me to come to Sunnydale for dinner next week. She invited Angel of course. Willow has always been the most understanding of my friends when it comes to him. Xander and Dawn will be there. To say I’m terrified is an understatement.

 

*

 

            Willow’s house is a very cute yellow A-frame. It looks like something she would pick. There are red geraniums growing in big clay pots on the porch. We are a little bit late for dinner because of Los Angeles traffic.

            Angel kisses me, pulling at my lips, setting my entire body on fire, before he knocks. “I love you.” He says. It is his way of giving me courage before I go into battle.

 

            “I love you too,” forever and always and beyond that. I know it’s redundant and sappy to say things like that to him every time I say I love you so I add it silently. 

            Willow answers the door even before Angel knocks. It’s nice to know she’s been watching for us. There is a very brief moment of awkwardness and then we hug and it seems to disappear.

            “Buffy, Angel, I’m so glad you’re here. Come in, I’ll show you around.”

 

            “Will, are you sure you want to start inviting bloodsuckers into our house?”

 

            I tremble on the edge of tears. That was Xander, it could only be Xander. Angel squeezes my hand slightly.

 

            “Nice to see you again, Xander.” Angel says.

 

            “And if I could say the same about you, Dead Boy, I would but some how I just can’t.” Xander steps forward into the hallway. “Hey, Buffster.”  I can hear the resentment and anger in his voice.  Oh boy, this going to be a fun meal.

 

            “So, where’s Dawn?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

 

            “She’s at a friend’s. She’ll be home in just a few minutes.” Willow says.

 

            I wonder if Dawn is trying to avoid me. I can’t say I blame her if she is. I tried to avoid me for two years. Willow takes us through the small house and into the living room. Everything is very cozy, warm and eclectic, just like Willow herself.

 

            “Angel, will you help me set the table?” Willow asks. She wants to give Xander and I time alone and she knows things will go better if Angel isn’t in the room. I want to cling to Angel’s hand and beg him to take me out of here. I know I can’t. This is something I have to do if I ever want to get my life back. Angel kisses me softly and brushes a strand of my hair out of my eyes, both of us forgetting momentarily that there are other people in the room.

 

            Xander hardly waits until Angel and Willow are out of the room before attacking. “So, you and Dead Boy are a thing again. Good to know he’s worth putting the world in peril.”

 

            “That’s not fair, Xander.” God, how many times have we had this conversation?

 

            Xander shrugs like he doesn’t much care if it’s fair or not. “He’s done nothing but hurt you, Buffy.”

            “He saved me, Xander. He found me. How long did you look for me before moving on with your life? A couple of weeks? A month? Did you even ever leave Sunnydale?” I turned on him. He had no right to judge Angel, not after the things he and I had been through together the past few weeks.

 

            He was flustered. “Giles looked for you, for months. He flew all over the country.”

 

            “I know, but what did you, Xander Harris, do personally? Did you go get the donuts and crack some jokes?” His face fell. I regretted the words the moment they were out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, Xander, I didn’t mean that.”

 

            “We all missed you, Buffy. When you died it was really bad. When we finally got you back from-from-when we finally got you back, we were all so happy. It was so good to have you back and you seemed to be making progress. Then you go to see him and it all fell apart again.” I didn’t have to ask who him was. “We don’t even know where you went for 2 years.”

 

            “Xander, you don’t really want to know where I was. You don’t want to hear about the crack houses I lived in. The beatings I took from my so called boyfriend because after he beat me he’d feel bad and give me extra heroin. You don’t want to hear about the way I practically whored myself out to him for more drugs. You don’t want to hear about me shooting up between my toes so no one would know and then finally not giving a damn if everyone knew and shooting up in my arm because the veins there are easier to find. Angel saved me from all of that. He has been beside me day and night since he found me. I have thrown up on him. He has sat with me through withdrawals. He has held my hands so I didn’t claw my skin off my arms. Angel didn’t make anything fall apart. He put it all back together for me.”

 

            Xander had grown very pale. He looked like he was going to faint or throw up, very possibly both. I didn’t care. I wanted him to know what Angel saved me from. I wanted him to know where I’d been and I wanted him to know that without Angel I would still be there, or worse. His voice was a mere croak when he finally spoke. “But you had started to make progress. You were smiling. You were coming back to us a little at a time.”

 

            “The progress I was making was me pretending, just like I’ve been pretending since the day Angel left me. No one wanted to hear how much it hurt, how much I wanted to give in and let a vamp take me out one night. So I did the only thing I could, I plastered on a smile and said witty things. You thought I was coming back to you, I was really just building a façade, a mask, one little brick at a time. And everyone bought it because they didn’t want to see anything else. I was in Heaven, Xander. You rescued me from Heaven. What was I supposed to do? Pretend that it was alright that you’d brought me back to live in this world where people, not demons, people kill each other and torture each other? I couldn’t do it.” I saw the shock on his face. He looked like the breath had been knocked out of him. He buckled and almost fell. I caught him and we sat on the couch together. It was a long time before either of us spoke.

 

            “Wow, so we really screwed up. We didn’t rescue you from Hell; we ripped your angel wings off and brought you back to Hell.” His voice was choked with tears unshed.

 

            I shrugged. How else was I supposed to respond? “You didn’t know. I mean the logic made sense. I jumped into a portal to Hell.  Besides, I didn’t have wings. I think you have to earn those.”

 

            “Right, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings.” He was trying to recover, to respond in his typical Xander way. It lacked the old punch and there was sorrow underneath it, but I appreciated that he tried. I’d had enough apologies and regrets to last two lifetimes. “I see why you were hurting, Buff, I understand it. I can only imagine how much it must have hurt, but why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you stay and let us deal with it together?”

 

            “I couldn’t tell Willow what she’d done. She was happy, she was so proud of herself for rescuing me. Besides, no one ever asked where I was. Everyone was just overjoyed I had returned. I came back and I was expected to be grateful and return to life as normal, actually no, not life as normal, even for me. When I died I had one job, slayer. When I came back, I had to be so much more. I couldn’t be Mom, I couldn’t handle things the way she handled them. When I jumped through the portal I just wanted to rest. I wanted to lay down the slayer hat and let someone else pick it up. I had earned that. I couldn’t pick all that up again so I tried to lose myself.” I paused a moment. I could feel the tears prickling at the back of my throat. I didn’t want to face Dawnie with red eyes and a sniffley nose. “And I succeeded. When Angel found me, I didn’t even remember who Buffy was.” I didn’t tell him that I didn’t remember him, or Willow or even Dawn, the only person I did remember was Angel.

 

            Xander didn’t say anything for a little while. “I still don’t like him, Buffy.”

 

            I smiled at him. “You don’t have to, Xander. I love him. I tried not to. I tried to make him go away. I sent him to Hell and someone, God or the Powers, decided to send him back to me. He left me and I still loved him. I tried to replace him with Parker and Riley. There was no replacement. I hurt a very good man, because I couldn’t love Riley the way he deserved to be loved, because all the love I have in my heart belonged to Angel. I died and even that didn’t diminish the love I have for him. I’m tired of fighting something I can’t. I love him and that’s never going to change. I can’t change.”

 

            The front door opened and closed. There was a thump as a bag was dropped on the floor. “Willow, Xander, I’m home.” Dawn yelled. Her voice brought a lump to my throat. I felt a panic rise up inside of me and my body begin screaming for the drugs I’d gotten accustomed to using to make things go away. I chewed on my lower lip and waited to see her.

 

            She steps into the living room. She is beautiful. She is much taller then I and her hair almost reaches her waist. “Buffy,” her voice is a cracked whisper. I nod and stand up. I don’t know if I should hug her or not. I walk to her but hesitate.

 

            “Dawnie?” How did she grow up so fast in just two short years?

 

            “Buffy,” She hugs me hard and I can not breathe. I expected yelling and tears. She releases me and I can see anger and hurt creep into her pretty blue eyes. “Where did you go?”

 

            “LA.” I want to spare her the sordid details if I can. She’s still my little sister and protecting her comes very natural.

 

            “Why?” She asks. Her voice is still very little girl.

 

            This is the hard part, explaining, or trying to. I don’t want her to know where I was, what I lost. “It was just so much to handle. I didn’t intend to stay away so long, just to take a break. I got lost along the way I guess.”

 

            “I remember when Angel came back from Hell. He was like an animal. You weren’t like that so I guess I thought you were going to be okay.”

 

            “There are different dimensions of Hell, Dawnie.” Like the one we live on, I thought.

 

            Dawn nodded, as if that made sense to her. “I missed you, Buffy. I tried-I tried to do what you told me to, I tried to live even when you were gone. It hurt so much but things are good now. I have friends; I’m doing good in school.  I like living with Xander and Willow.”

 

            “I’m glad. Those are all the things I want for you, Dawnie.” I step forward and pull her hair back off her shoulders.  Somehow, she would always be fourteen to me.

 

            “Did Angel come with you?” she asks.

 

            “He did. He’s helping Willow set the table.”

 

            “Oh, goody! I haven’t seen him since he left Sunnydale.” She gleefully runs into the dining room. I hear her yell “Angel!” As I walk into the room, she tackles him.  He hugs her and my little family starts to seem like a family again. I realize no matter how cold and painful this world is, I’m not alone.

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I heard most of the things said in the living room. I wasn’t eavesdropping, it’s the vampire hearing. Buffy gets stronger everyday. One of these days she won’t need me and I’m glad she’s going to have her friends to come back to.

            We sit down to dinner and I could kiss Willow. She has thought of everything. We have steaks, mine is very rare. There is red wine for everyone and I can smell that my glass is filled with blood.

            Dawn is talking a mile a minute. She fills in the gaps of awkward silence and I am happy for it. Xander and Buffy have made peace but I don’t expect he will ever be at peace with me. I don’t expect him to be, I don’t expect anyone to be, not after the things I have done. I gently remind Buffy to eat by touching her hand and taking a bite of my steak.  She smiles at me.

 

            “So, you eat now, Dead Boy?” Xander’s voice grates across the table like nails on a chalkboard.

 

            “I’ve always been able to eat. It makes dinner at a table more comfortable but if you like I can do this.” I put on my game face, more to spite him then anything, and take a drink of my blood. “The blood was very thoughtful of you, Willow.” I glare at Xander as I say it.

 

            “You know, that’s what this house has been missing since Buffy left, bloodsucking monsters.” Xander retorts back.

 

            “Stop it!” Dawn stands up and screams. She has tears in her eyes. She looks at Xander. “You’re going to make her go away again.” I lose the game face. The last thing I want to do is upset Dawn or Buffy.

 

            Buffy is trembling beside me. “No, Dawn, I’m not going to leave again but if Xander and Angel can’t get their testosterone under control I’m going to put both of them in the hospital.” She glances at both Xander and me and in that glance I can see the old fire, the old anger that has nothing to do with pain. I want to kiss her.

 

            Willow clears her throat and takes a sip of her wine. “So, Uhm, Buffy, are you going to stay in LA?”

 

            “For now, I pretty much try to stick to thinking about today. Tomorrows tend to build up and it’s never of the good.”

 

            The rest of the dinner goes well. Xander tries to avoid speaking to me and that’s okay. He’s never been my favorite person either.

 

            Dawn spends half the night on the phone, but she keeps wandering into the living room where Buffy is. She wants to make to sure she’s still there. I know the feeling. I still wake up several times during the day to make sure she’s still lying beside me. I often touch her, just to make sure she’s real.

 

            The most uncomfortable part of the evening comes at bedtime.

 

            “Uhm, we’ve got one guest room. It’s got a double bed, but I’ve got blankets and pillows and stuff if Angel wants to sleep on the couch. I mean it’s okay if he doesn’t. I just-“

 

            Buffy smiles and puts her out of her misery. “He’s staying with me. We’ll take the guest room, Will. Thank you.”

 

            I can feel the daggers Xander is shooting my way. Apparently he thinks being a homicidal maniac is fun for me.  It’s not that I want Buffy any less then I ever did, or that I’m not worried about my soul. It’s still hard to be near her and not be with her, but now I know how much it hurts without her and that pain is too much to bear.

 

            Once we are in the bedroom, Buffy is restless. So am I. She has become accustomed to my schedule of going to sleep at sunrise and waking up mid afternoon.

“I haven’t seen Sunnydale in a long time. Take a walk with me?” she asks.

 

            And of course, I do.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            We walk past the house on Revello. It’s odd to me to think of other people living there. It’s odd to think that I can’t go just go open the door and know Mom will be waiting up for me.  If I sneak up the trellis and into the window, it won’t be my room anymore.  So much of my life happened from that window. I snuck out to slay, I snuck out to see Angel and he snuck in to see me. I remember sitting inside the window sill kissing Angel because I was grounded and couldn’t leave my room. I remember sitting out on the roof the night Angel broke up with me my heart shattering into a million pieces.

            “I know it’s just a house, but somehow I miss it.” I say

 

            Angle draws lazy circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.  “Places hold a lot of memories for us. The real memories are in your head and your heart. Places just trigger them sometimes.”

 

            He thinks I’m having a hard time letting go of the house. I’m not. It stopped being more then just a place to lie down when Mom died. It occurs to me I haven’t been to Mom’s grave since before I died. Suddenly it’s important I go see her.   I pull roses out of someone’s yard and tear my hands on the thorns.

            “I’ve got to go see her, Angel. I have to.”

 

            “Shhh, it’s okay. We’ll go right now.”

 

            I start running. I don’t remember the last time I ran like this. Angel has a hard time keeping up with me.  It feels good to run, it feels good to be breathing hard. I kneel at her grave, my breath coming fast and hard. I place the stolen roses near the headstone. The grave has been kept up, but it looks lonely.

 

            “Hi, Mom.” I feel tears spring to my eyes and I choke on them. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I miss you. I needed you so much, Mommy. I got so lost and I couldn’t find my way home. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I collapse on her grave, sobbing I’m sorry.  I don’t think I ever had a chance to grieve for Mom. There was Glory and I was trying to keep everything running the way she had.

            I feel Angel pull me into his arms. He holds me there. I rest my head on his shoulder. The tears dry up slowly.

            “One of these days you’re going to get tired of being my handkerchief.” I tell Angel amid sniffles.

            He smiles at me. I love that he smiles more now then I ever remember before. “I’ll be anything you want.”

 

            I melt. He is everything I want.

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            We stand up and walk through the cemetery like most couples walk through the park. I smile to myself. Buffy has automatically dropped into patrol mode. She just doesn’t realize it.  It’s good to see that things that once came so naturally to her are coming back.  Everyday she is more my Buffy.

 

            “Angel, Willow brought up a good question tonight. Am I going to stay in LA?”

 

            I do not know how to answer this question. There are still so many complications with the relationship between Buffy and I. I know how I want to answer it. I would have her never leave my side if it were up to me.

 

            “I mean, I don’t have to come back to Sunnydale anymore. They have Faith. I’m a free lance slayer, so to speak. I want to know I have a future.” She sounds like a little girl lost and I want to comfort her.

 

            Her words tear at me. “Of course you have a future, Buffy.”

 

            “Angel, when I look into the future you are still all I see.”

 

            The regret and longing and sadness that has been the hallmark of our relationship gathers around us like smoke. I can’t help but chuckle and echo the words to her I said so long ago. “I know the feeling.” That was before, before we knew about my curse, before we hurt each other so much. It was also before the world hurt her so much. I sigh. I need to answer her. She deserves an answer. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately.  Our relationship will always be fraught with pain. I can not even bear the thought that one day she will die, for good, and leave me alone in the dark, cold abyss that my world without her in it is. Yet I know this will happen. I will live forever while she grows old and dies. There is nothing more I would like then to grow old with her. Somehow, I know that when that day comes, I will climb to the top of the highest hill and I will watch the most beautiful sunrise in my entire life.  There are so many things I can’t give her, but I do know that no one can love her like I do.

 

            “Throughout our relationship, when it came to decisions like staying or going, I’ve made them for you. You know the conditions and limitations of our relationship, Buffy. You know I can’t make love to you, I can’t take you on afternoon picnics, I can’t give you children and no matter how much I want to, I won’t grow old with you. I tried to live a life without you, Buffy and it got us both more heartache then happiness. You’re not a naïve little girl in high school any more. You’ve seen the dirty side of the world. If you want what I can give you, my love for a literal eternity, you’ve got it. I will stay as long as you want me. I will love you even if you don’t.”

 

            She stops and wraps her hands around my neck. She tugs my head down to hers and I kiss her. She devours me. Her kiss is hungry and hot.  She told me once she wanted to die when I kiss her. Her kiss makes me want to live. 

            She pulls away first, trying to catch her breath. She pushes her hair off of her face. “Ok, so that means I can stay? Cause you know, any guy can promise to love you forever. I know only one that can keep that promise.”

            I laugh.  We continue our walk through the cemetery. This was once the stage for our romance.  As we walk by the mausoleums and the crypts I can replay all the times I kissed her there or there. We hold hands and I am so lost in thought I do not notice we have stopped. When I finally do I look down I feel as if I have been gutted.

 

Buffy Anne Summers

1981-2001

Beloved Sister

Devoted Friend

She saved the world a lot

 

            Why didn’t they have it removed? I came here once, after she had died, before I went off to the monastery. I left blood roses and all the good parts of myself. I look at Buffy. She is staring at the headstone. Her face is impassive.

 

            “I dug my way out.” Her voice is numb and flat.

 

            Tears come to my eyes and murderous rage fills me. They made her dig out of her own grave. My Buffy had to dig out of her own grave. No wonder she had nightmares, no wonder she still does.  I need something to hit, something to pummel into oblivion, something to kill. The next thing I remember the headstone is little more then rubble and Buffy is kissing my bleeding hands. I am shaking so hard I can feel Buffy trembling with me. They made her dig out of her of own grave.

            I pull her to me and bury my head in her stomach. I can not help the sobs that overcome me.  “I’m so sorry, Buffy. I’m sorry for not being here. I’m sorry I let them do this to you. I never wanted to leave you. I just wanted you to be happy, to have a normal life, if I had known, if I had known I would never have left you. I love you so much; I never stopped loving you, not for a moment.”

 

            She tangles her fingers in my hair and makes small comforting noises. She turns my face up to her and places small kisses all over it.  She ends up on her knees beside me, holding me like I have held her so many times.

           

            “None of it matters anymore, Angel. Everything we did, everything they did brought us to this place, where we are today.  I wouldn’t change anything, because if I changed one small thing it might change this.  If Darla had never sired you, I wouldn’t have ever even met you, never have loved you, never been loved by you.”

 

            “When did you get so wise?” I finally find the voice to ask.

 

            She smiles at me. “I think it had something to do with dying, being sent to Heaven and then taken out again.”

 

            I lean into her, basking in her presence.  She is right; everything that has happened has led us here today. I always knew she was special, from the moment I saw her. Having lost her so many times and finally found her once again, I know she is more then that.  She is my salvation, my redemption, my temptation and my reward. She is my everything.

           

 

 

           

Chapter Twelve

Note: This chapter takes place a couple to three weeks after the visit to Sunnydale. Remember *’s denote time passing. Also, I liked Gunn and Fred together so I’m keeping them that way dangit!!

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            It is amazing to me the changes that can occur in a life in a few short weeks. You always hear the saying there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I never saw a light. There was only darkness, but I know now there was one; it was just hiding around a corner I couldn’t see. I know because right now my light in the dark is nuzzling my neck and whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

            I shift on the couch so I can kiss him. I love his mouth. If I live to be a thousand I will never tire of kissing Angel. His mouth is cool and soft.  He teases my lips, staying just out of reach and then as if he can no longer stand it he crushes me to him and devours my mouth. Then like a chastised child he pulls back and gently sucks my bottom lip. My hands tangle in his hair and tug at him, insisting he quit teasing and get on with the bruising, consuming kisses. He chuckles into my mouth and whispers “patience.” I have no patience when it comes to wanting him, needing him. It’s not my fault I haven’t had two hundred and fifty years to hone it. I hardly think two hundred and fifty thousand years would give me patience when it came to wanting him. One of his hands cradles my face, his fingers tracing my jaw line, my neck, pausing at my pulse to feel it hammering there. The other hand has slid up the back of my shirt and he takes steps up my spine with his fingertips.

            My patience has reached an end. I moan into his mouth “God, Angel I want you so much.”

            His response is a low growl/purr that sends shivers up and down my entire body.

 

            “Uhm, guys, still other people in the room.” Gunn clears his throat.

 

            Angel and I jump and I turn several shades of crimson.  Angel mumbles something like “Sorry, got carried away.” He is fortunate he doesn’t have the circulation to blush.

 

            “Yeah, we could sorta tell. I mean the explosions and car chases only drown out so much.” Gunn grins at us.

 

            “Not to mention the images I have had burned permanently on my retinas during these Monday Movie Make Out sessions.” Cordy says.

 

            They have become accustomed to our excessive PDA’s. Public displays of affection for those of you who didn’t go to high school. Angel and I have been experimenting with different ways of dealing with the whole want you, need you, can’t have you issue in our relationship. The one that seems to work the best, although involves mucho humiliation, is our current plan. We touch, kiss and nuzzle in front of people. That way there’s no danger of taking it too far, at least not without someone noticing that I just unbuttoned and unzipped Angel’s pants. Yes, much to my utter humiliation, Cordy pointed this out to me during our weekly Monday Pizza and a Movie night.  Behind closed doors, an entirely different story. Our touches are chaste. Our kisses are light and never long.  We sleep in the same bed but I sleep in sweats and a long sleeved tee shirt. He sleeps in pajama bottoms and a tee shirt. We both maintain a modesty that is almost excessive.

            And it hurts. The pain carves a hole inside of me. I want to rage at the world. It’s not fair Gunn and Fred can touch and love and express all the things they feel inside. It’s not fair that the people walking down the street holding hands will never ever pay the prices Angel and I have to be together yet they are allowed to make love to each other.

            It’s worth it though. It’s worth the pain of not being able to touch him and love him the way I want to. It’s worth it just to wake up in the morning with him by my side. It’s worth it to go to sleep in his arms snuggled against his chest. I will pay any price to spend my life with him. It’s still frustrating.

            I remember something he told me once.  It was after we’d been to see that awful movie in Sunnydale. I hated rubbing it in his face that we couldn’t do any of the things they’d done in that movie. I told him I didn’t want to get him worked up. He had said that just being around me did that and that it didn’t mean he was frustrated around me. It was just nice to feel.

 

            I think he lied about the frustrated part.

           

But it is nice to feel, with him anyway.  It’s nice to feel the coolness of his smooth skin, the hardness of his muscles, and the softness of his mouth.  I love the way he sucks in a breath he doesn’t need when I touch his stomach. I love the way he clenches his jaw when I slip my fingers under the waistband of his pants. I love—Okay, not going there, that way lies badness and frustration and I’ve killed three of Angel’s training dummies already.

            I turn my attention back to the movie. I can’t remember what it is. It was Fred’s choice tonight and it’s something with lots of explosions and gunfire, maybe a Diehard movie, or Terminator. Anyway, the explosions, have I mentioned there are a lot of them. Angel is nuzzling my neck again and I surrender to the beautiful pain of knowing we’re going to have to stop before we’re ready.

 

*

 

            Its dark out and everyone is in the lobby of the hotel getting ready for the evening’s patrol. Gunn has his favorite hubcap axe. Fred is checking the sights on her crossbow. Cordy has a compact spiked mace and Wesley is polishing the edge on his fighting axe.

            I am sitting on the silly round couch feeling like a dork watching everyone. I wonder briefly if Xander ever felt like this when I was preparing to go into battle. I have never felt useless and it’s driving me crazy. Angel has insisted that I stay in the hotel until I’m up to my full strength. My only consolation is that he stays with me.

            It has been quiet on the business end lately, patrols are always needed though. LA doesn’t have the demon per capita that Sunnydale has, but it’s much larger and there fore much like Sunnydale in that there is always something going on. Angel assigns patrols. He wants to make sure everyone is together, strength in numbers and all that.

 

            “And I thought Buffy and I would check out a couple of the graveyards.” He grins at me as he says it.

 

            I jump and up and wrap my legs around his waist, kissing him soundly on the mouth. He holds a stake out to me. “Oooo and presents, no one knows how to make a slayer happy like you do.”

 

            “You know what they say; a happy slayer is an efficient slayer.” He chuckles at me.

 

            The cemeteries here seem more orderly, less cryptic, then the ones back in Sunnydale. Angel tells me they are often less populated by the undead then the ones in Sunnydale. Which begs to know why we’re here if that’s the case, but I know Angel, he’s starting me out slowly.

            “So, do you really have any leads on any early risers here, or have you just run out of romantic places to take me?” I ask.

 

            He chuckles and kisses my hand. “I actually do have some leads. There was an article in the paper about a bunch of kids at a rave that got killed. Most of the kids got away, there were three though that died from massive blood loss.”

 

            “That sounds very Sunnydale.” I comment.

 

            “It does, which is why we’re here.” Angel says with a smile.

 

            “It’s hard being so popular. I mean I try to get away from it all, but the fans just keep finding me.” I say.

 

            Angel chuckles and pulls me over to a bench. I sit down on his lap.  “So tell the truth, you got tired of replacing your training dummies, and thought field trip!”

 

            “Your training sessions have been going really well, Buffy. You are almost back to full strength and you seem to be going a little stir crazy in the hotel. I decided that as a business man, I’d be very foolish not to put your assets to use and make you a part of the team.” He said.

 

            I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. I know its taboo, I know there is no one to stop me and I know I have a really morbid obsession with making out with Angel in grave yards. I can’t help myself though. “I think you’ll find I’m a very good team player.” I say taking small bites of his neck. His eyes are closed and I can feel a purr/growl just starting in his throat.

 

            “Aww isn’t that sweet. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to eat lovers.”

 

            I am up and in slayer stance before the creature standing before us finishes his sentence. “And it’s been a really long time since I’ve killed anything. I was getting itchy, you know.”  I say as I catch the vamp in the chin with a high snap kick. I do not give him a chance to come back, hitting him with a series of punches, hook, jab, roundhouse- and then because it’s so much fun I execute a beautiful flying roundhouse kick. He goes down on the ground like a rock. He is dust before he ever even realizes what happened. Angel is sitting on the bench grinning at me like an idiot.

 

            “How did it feel?” he asks.

 

            “Like breathing,” I respond with a huge smile. I’d forgotten how good it could feel to slay a vampire. As Faith would say, I’ve found the joy.

 

           

Chapter Thirteen

A/N Since most of season 3 and season 4 didn’t happen, Lorne still has Caritas open

 

Disclaimer: Of course you know I don’t own the characters they belong to Joss. The song lyrics belong to Sarah Mclachlan (Queen of beautiful painful music) and the song is “In the Arms of an Angel”

 

 

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

           

                        “Buffy, come on. Everyone else is waiting!” I yell through the bedroom door.

            She cracks open the door and peeks out through the sliver at me. “Angel, ask Cordy to come up. I need opinions of the girl sort.”

 

            “Sure. Who are you and what have you done with my Buffy?” I look at her confused.

            She rolls her eyes and tries not to grin at my attempt of humor. “I’m a girl who hasn’t gotten dressed up to go to anything other then a crack house in years. I need help.”

 

            I ponder a moment. “I’ve heard the crack house look is on the way out.” It helps both of us to joke about where she has been and the things she has been through. I think they call it Gallows humor.

 

            “Exactly, however the hooker look is definitely in. So Cordy, quick.” She says with a grin. “And don’t tell her I said that, kidding you know.”

 

            “Right, I’ll go get her.” I lope down the stairs, feeling like an idiot and I love it.

 

            *

 

            She walks down the stairs and my jaw hits the floor. She is wearing black leather pants and some kind of silvery backless, sleeveless, everything less shirt. Her hair falls around her shoulders in a mass of golden curls and I don’t know what Cordy did with her makeup but she is devastatingly beautiful. “Wow,” lame, I know but those are the only words I can form.

           

            “Five bucks,” she holds her hand out to Cordy. Cordy rolls her eyes and digs in her purse.

            “You’d think 250 years of seeing women dressed up and the he’d be able to form some other opinion besides Wow.” Cordy snorts and hands Buffy a five dollar bill.

 

            Gun and Fred laugh. I want to come to my own defense, I really do, but then Buffy is standing there and Wow. She leans into me and I close my eyes breathing her in.

 

            “You’re pretty Wow, yourself big guy.” She winks at me and kisses me lightly. I glance down at my own attire, unsure at the moment if I even got dressed. Thankfully, I did. I’m wearing black leather pants and Buffy’s favorite wine colored velvet shirt.

 

            “We ready to roll?” Gunn asks.

 

            Everyone nods in the affirmative and we separate into various cars. Fred and Gunn are with Buffy and I in the GTX, since they live at the hotel. Cordelia and Wesley take his SUV. We’ve all been working hard. It seemed once Buffy was on the team, things just got more demonic but tonight it’s quiet, no visions so far, no clients in need. We’re going to Caritas. Buffy has yet to meet Lorne. I have a slightly ulterior motive for taking her there. I want Lorne to read her.

 

            “So, Lorne, tell me about him.” Buffy says.

 

            “Lorne is an anagogic demon. He reads auras and futures but only when you sing. He owns Caritas, the karaoke demon bar we’re going to.” I explained.

 

            “So are we singing tonight?” She asks me her voice doubtful and questioning.

 

            Gunn laughs in the backseat. “God, we hope Angel doesn’t sing, and if you do, Man, no Manilow. It’s not like I liked his music before, but no one deserves to have their life’s work slaughtered like that.”

 

            Buffy laughs. I love her laugh.  “He’s that bad?” She turns around and asks Gunn.

 

            “If you mean oh crap the world is ending badly, no, otherwise, yeah.” Gunn says with a grin.

 

            Buffy wraps her arms around my bicep and my hand trails to her thigh. “It’s okay, you’re still my hero.”

            That’s all that matters, in my eyes.

 

            Caritas is already full. There are demons of every description and color here. A Marklar is on the stage destroying She-Bang originally by Ricky Martin. Lorne gets sight of us and waves us over to his table by the bar.

 

            “So this Her?” Lorne asks, looking at Buffy. He whistles. “My, my, my. Darling, I have seen all about you, but I never imagined.” He gets up and hugs Buffy. She looks surprised and I’m not sure if it’s that she’s not used to being hugged by demons, present company excluded, or if it’s Lorne’s silver lame suit.

 

            “’Splainy?” She says looking first at me and then Lorne.

 

            “I don’t know where you were lost, Sweetlips, but Angelcakes here was doing a lot of looking. He came to sing for me a few times. Like I said before, I’ve seen lots of you every time he sings.”

 

            She looks at me a bit uncomfortable. I pull her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles, which elicits a short verse of “Can you Feel the Love Tonight” from Lorne.

 

            “Drinks for everyone?” Wesley asks. We give him our order and he makes his way through the crowded bar. I let Buffy have two Fuzzy Navels, her drink of choice, before I mention singing to her.

 

            “Up on stage?” She asks me with a dumbfounded look on her face.

 

            “No, Buffy, out in the alley, of course on stage. I want Lorne to read you.”

 

            She watches me for a moment, realizing this is important to me. She rolls her eyes and sighs, “Oh, God this is gonna hurt---everyone in here.”

 

            I chuckle and walk with her to pick a song. She shoos me away. She says she wants to surprise me.

 

            Lorne stands on stage a few minutes later to announce her. “Tonight we have a very special lady that’s going to sing for you all. Buffy, come on up here.”

 

            Buffy walks up timidly on stage. She can slay vampires, face demons, defeat a goddess, and dive to her death. She is scared to sing on stage in front of people. Her voice is nervous as she takes the microphone from Lorne. She waves slightly and takes a deep breath. “I want to apologize to everyone here before I even start.”

 

            I am moved to near tears when she begins singing.

 

Spend all your time waiting for that second chance

For the break that will make it OK

There’s always some reason to feel not good enough

And it’s hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction or a beautiful release

Memories seep from my veins

Let me be empty and weightless and maybe

I’ll find some peace tonight

 

In the arms of an angel far away from here

From this cold dark hotel room and the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie

You’re in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here.

 

 

            Lorne sits down beside me at the table. “I must say, what she lacks in voice she makes up for with emotion. You’re all over her, Angelcakes.” He is watching me, watch her.

 

            “This isn’t about me, Lorne, read her.” I nod toward my fallen angel on the stage.

 

            “Seeing your reaction is part of reading her.” He says.

 

So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn

There’s vultures and thieves at your back

The storm keeps on twisting, you keep building up the lies

That you make up for all that you lack

That don’t make no difference, escaping one last time

It’s easier to believe

In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness

That brings me to my knees

 

            “She’s important, and not just to you. She’s going to be important to everyone. She’s strong. I don’t know how she came back from where she was. She’s still got a long climb but she’ll make it.” Lorne says.

 

            “Anything else?” I look at him, hoping he’ll see what I want him to.

 

            He chuckles. “You and her, Kyrumption. Together you are strong, separated you are weak. Powers had a hand in finding her, in you finding her. But I do not envy the predicament you’re in, having what you want so close and not being able to have it.”

 

            I scowl. “Yeah, tell me about it. Better yet, tell the Powers about it.”

 

In the arms of an Angel far away from here

From this cold dark hotel room and the endlessness that you fear

You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie

In the arms of an Angel, may you find some comfort here

 

You’re in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here.

 

            She finishes singing and steps down, her face pink. I meet her at the edge of the stage and kiss her, it deepens, like it always does with her I can never, will never, get enough of her. I pull her closer until I am certain we will become one. Her tiny hands are splayed across my back and she is pulling me closer also. We break apart to the whooping and cheers of many demons.

 

            “So, Green Guy, what color is my aura and do you need to see my palm to read my future?” Buffy asks sitting down at the table.

 

            Lorne chuckles “Sweetheart, you let it all hang out there on stage. I’ve got all I need. I told Angelcakes here, you’re important. You’re very strong, you’ve got a climb ahead of you, but you’ll make it and the Powers had a hand in getting you two back together. “

 

            “So they aren’t going to design some grand demon scheme or loopholes to separate us?” She asks.

 

            “That, I can’t tell. They are the Powers but it looks like their two most powerful warriors working together, are in their best interests.” Lorne says. He seemed sorry he couldn’t promise her more. I know the feeling, one look at her and I want to promise her the world.

 

           

            @--Buffy--@

 

            My ears and my head are happy when Lorne closes the karaoke stage and does some singing of his own. I am surprised by the beautiful voice he has. This song is particularly sweet and slow. I hold my hand out to Angel.

 

            “Dance with me?”

 

            He smiles and takes my hand in his large, cool one. He leads me out to the dance floor, one hand just on the small of my back and I shiver. I do not know why I love that so much, maybe just because it’s Angel, touching me.

            I wind my arms around his neck and try not to remember that the last time I danced with him was at my prom, before he left me. He runs his hands up and down my back as we dance. I look up into those brown eyes that I love so much and I can not help but stand on tiptoe and kiss him.

 

*

 

            When we get home, I said home, as in his and mine. Ok excuse the rant, that’s just the first time I’ve said that. Anyway, when we get home, I don’t know if it’s the drinks or the dancing or the proximity of Angel, but on the way to the bathroom I stop in front of him. He is sitting on the bed and he is so beautiful. I place my fingers under his chin and turn his face up to mine. It starts out innocent enough. I kiss his forehead, which I love and I know he’s self conscious about; I kiss his closed eyes, his nose, his cheekbones, his chin and end with his gorgeous mouth.

            I like to taste his mouth for a little bit before I give in and let him taste mine. I nip at his lips, teasing him much the way he often teases me. Let him see how he likes it. I kiss the corners of his mouth and the center before finally giving in and drowning in his kiss. He pulls me down and I am straddling his hips.

            He nips at my neck stopping, as he always does, at his mark. He places a whisper soft kiss over it and then gently suckles at it. I moan and lean into him. I can not help it. That spot is my weakest point. I know he can feel my pulse thrumming there and I know it appeals to the demon in him as much as it does the man and for some reason that excites me.

            My hands work their way down the buttons on his shirt of their own accord. My skin feels feverish and I need to feel his coolness against mine. I push his shirt down his broad shoulders and muscled arms. He smoothly unties the one thing holding my slip of a shirt and then there is nothing but skin between our upper bodies. He pulls me closer to him and nuzzles my neck. I can scarcely breathe. Our chests are together and I can feel my heart trip hammering, our heartbeat, because when we are this close it as if he shares mine.

            I decide my neck has had enough preferable treatment and begin to nip at the muscles corded in his neck. He tenses. I know this drives him crazy. My hands drift down his beautiful back, stopping to trace the gryphon tattoo. I hook my thumbs in the waist band of his pants and occupy myself with his neck. He does the purr/growl noise that makes me crazy. I bite down where his neck joins his shoulder and he growls.  I pull back and return my mouth to his.

            He kisses me hard, branding me, claiming my mouth as his own and it’s not until one of his fangs nip my bottom lip and I taste blood that I notice he is in vamp face.  He tastes the blood too. He jumps up and dumps me on the floor.  He stands with his back to me, apologizing. I can tell he is having a hard time controlling the vamp face because he hasn’t reverted yet. His words still come out around fangs.  I hadn’t even noticed it and I’m pretty sure he changed when he growled. It was a very vampy growl.

 

            “Angel, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to let things go so far. I’m sorry, please look at me.” I stand up and slip his shirt on, doing up the buttons quickly.

 

            “It’s okay, just give me a minute.” He is still talking around fangs.

 

            When he finally turns around he is wearing his human face.  His eyes look sadder and somehow more tormented. I didn’t mean to do that to him.

 

            “I’m sorry, Angel. I don’t know what I was doing. I forgot and I couldn’t help it. I want you so much. I didn’t mean to let it go that far. I shouldn’t tease you like that.” My voice cracks and I am trying not to cry.

 

            “No, Buffy, it’s okay. I wanted it too. I could have stopped you anytime and I didn’t. We just let things get out of hand. It won’t happen again.” He opens his arms and beckons me into his embrace. “Let’s go to bed. You take the bathroom and change.”

 

            I nod and lock myself in the bathroom. I wash all the makeup off my face and splash myself with cold water. I put on the heaviest pair of sweats and the most concealing long sleeved shirt I have. He says it won’t happen again. I know it will. It always does between us. That’s the pain in our relationship and sometimes I think that’s where the passion comes from.

Chapter Fourteen

A/N Since most of season 3 did not happen in Ats, Cordy is not part demon and the visions still hurt her. Besides I figure she has some pain coming for thinking she could actually be with Buffy’s guy! *grin*

 

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            She could so totally kick my ass. I know it and I love it. I remember the scared, starved, addicted little girl I brought back here three months ago. She is not that girl anymore. And she’s currently showing me that by handing my ass to me. I tried to land a side kick into her abdomen. I should have known better then to try a kick with her. She grabbed my ankle, gave it a twist and that’s why I’m currently flying through the air. I land on my back with a thud. I groan involuntarily. Just because I don’t breathe doesn’t mean having a sledge hammer rammed into my lungs feels good.

 

            “Oh, God, Angel?” She peers down at me.

 

            I struggle to get up. “It’s okay; I just forgot what sparring with you was like.”

 

            “You were holding back, weren’t you?” She asks. Her gray green eyes twinkle mischievously.

 

            “Well, sort of. It’s been a long time since we’ve sparred. I forgot you’re pretty spry though.” I grin at her.

 

            “The last time you forgot that you ended up on your back too.” She sits down, straddling my hips.

 

            “You know, you knocked me down that night, and I’ve never stopped falling.” I tell her, brushing a lock of damp hair out of her face.

 

            “Me either.” There is a sweet, sad moment. Buffy’s soul shines through her eyes, and mine answers it. You couldn’t cut the sexual tension with a knife, you’d need a chainsaw. She stands up and holds out her hand. “Come on, I’ll give you one more chance before I run upstairs and tell everyone I kicked your ass.”

 

            I chuckle, take her hand and let her pull me to my feet. She takes a defensive fighting stance and the sparring has begun again.

 

            I hear Fred upstairs, but what she says doesn’t register until I’m on the ground, again I might add, and looking right into the eyes of Wesley, with a crossbow, and Gunn with his hubcap axe.

 

            “Oh God, he’s trying to kill her.”

 

            I recall hearing it a few moments ago. Now it registers why I’m facing two murderous looking men. I hold my hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I’m the one on the ground.”

 

            “What’s the what, guys?” Buffy asks. Her breath is coming hard. Sweat glistens on her body.

            “Fred came running up stairs and said Angel was tryin to kill you. We figured he’d gone bad again.” Gunn said.

 

            Buffy started laughing. She had to bend over to catch her breath. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She kept shaking her head and trying to talk. Finally she managed. “We were sparring, training.”

 

            “But-but he hit you, hard. I saw him.” Fred says poking her head around Gunn.

 

            I stay silent. Buffy seems to be handling things alright.

 

 “I’m okay, really. And Angel isn’t bad. We were training. We used to do this all the time.” She attempts to assure them.

 

            Fred still does not appear to be convinced.

 

            “Fred, really, it’s ok. I’m the slayer. I can take it. And he’s really not hitting me as hard as he would if it were real. It just looks like it.”

 

            Cordy has come down to see what all the fuss is about now. She rolls her eyes in typical Cordy fashion. “Ok, I’m going to have to explain the whole Buffy/Angel lore to you guys, at least some of it. This is normal. First they talk out their differences, and then they fight them out. It’s the whole Buffy and Angel show.”

 

            Buffy smirks at her. “Thanks for clearing that up Cordy. I didn’t realize my life amused you so much.”

 

            Cordelia shrugs. “It was Sunnydale. Besides, it’s not like you actually had normal boyfriends.” Cordelia makes a face. “Vision!” She screams just before she falls. Gunn is close enough to catch her. I get to my feet and make it to her side as quick as vampire reflexes will allow. I hold her tightly while she writhes with the pain. It passes fairly quickly and I carry her upstairs and carefully lay her on the round couch. Wesley gets pain pills and a glass of water for her.

 

            “Big demons in a cave on Long Beach. Hurry, there’s a bunch of kids having a bonfire there.” Cordy gulps down the pills and lays back on the couch.

           

            “Cordy, I hate to bother you, but any details on the demons.” I ask softly.

 

            Cordelia screws up her face and closes her eyes. “I think maybe they wore armor. I’m sorry Angel, there’s just not much there.”

 

            I smile at her. “It’s ok, Cor, just lay back. We’ll be back in a few.”

 

            “Buffy, cell phone, make him turn it on.” Cordy says.

 

            I join the others in scavenging weapons from the cabinet. I take my favorite battle axe. Buffy chooses a broadsword. Ever the vampire slayer, I notice she has a wooden stake tucked into the back waistband of her pants.

            We pack up in the GTX and I drive as fast as I can to Long Beach. Cordy’s visions don’t generally give us much time.

 

            There are cliffs near Long Beach. I park the car as close to them as I dare, get out and we make our way to the cliffs. The kids Cordy told us about are less then 500 yards from the cave. They are drinking, their music is up loud and the bonfire has already been started. I can see the black of the cave entrance from our hiding spot on the beach. I silently point it out to everyone. They nod in recognition. We move as one group toward the caves.

            Buffy and I take point. Gunn and Wes are close behind us. We creep into the cave. I can hear voices deeper in. I beckon everyone to follow close. The mouth of the cave is narrow. The floor is damp and crusted with salt. I can see light up ahead. There is an outcropping of boulders and rocks just before the cave opens up. The demons are past this outcropping, just around a corner, in the widest part of the cave.

            The plan is to get to these boulders, crouch behind them and raise a surprise attack.  Someone kicks a small rock. The demons start talking in excited voices. I can hear 6 different voices, maybe more. One of them is giving orders to check the entrance. We rush into the cave, attempting to take any surprise advantage that is left. I pull my axe back to swing it at the first demon. It turns and I fall to my knees. It can’t be. I won’t be able to make that choice again. I’m not strong enough.

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            “ANGEL!” I step in front of him just in time to block the Mohra demon’s downward swing with a really big sword. “Smash the jewels in their heads!” I scream.

            I step in, sword hilt raised. I remember the last time I fought one of these. They are strong and this time they will be extra vigilant in protecting their power center. They know we know about it. I don’t have time to make sure the others are doing alright. Mohra sweeps forward with his right leg and I land hard, in front of Angel. I roll up to my feet, propelling myself forward and into the air with my legs and by using my sword like a staff on the rocky ground. I push hard enough to somersault in the air to the left of Angel.  Mohra forgets all about the easy kill in front of him and goes after the more challenging bait, me.

            “Oh come on. I thought you guys were assassins. You’re about to get your ass kicked by a girl.”

            He steps toward me with a growl. “We can not be stopped. For everyone of us that falls-“

            “Yeah, yeah I’ve heard this spiel. It’s been like 3 years. Don’t you guys get new lines?”

            The more I taunt him the further he steps away from Angel. I twirl my sword, taunting him, drawing him closer, always staying just out of reach. There is a moment of panic as my foot comes up against the cave wall. I’m out of space and I’m not nearly far enough from Angel to really fight this guy. I attack with a jumping half twist crescent kick. Mohra stumbles back.  My timing is going to have to be really good. I drop into a crouch and do a sweep at Mohra’s legs. He loses his balance but recovers. If we stumble any further back, Angel will be in his line of sight, and I can’t take that chance. I toss my sword up in the air and catch it blade first in both hands. I barely even feel the blade slicing deep into my palms. I rush Mohra, stepping in close enough to smash the jewel on his head. It’s also close enough that the dagger he’s got in his left hand is plunged into my stomach before he dies.

            There are still four Mohras left. I grab Angel under the arm and haul him to his feet. “FIGHT!” I scream at him. I shove my bloody sword into his hands. I’m out of the most physical part of this fight. He looks down the sword and his hands, now covered in my blood.

 

            “Buffy, you’re hurt.” His voice is calm and out of place in this scene. Maybe it’s that being gutted hurts so much, but it makes me even angrier at him.

 

            “I’m going to be a lot more hurt if we don’t kill these damn things in a hurry.” I grab the stake from my waistband, it quickly becomes slick with the blood from my hands. I rock back on my heels as one of the demons charges at me and Angel.

            Angel puts on his game face and charges back with a feral growl. They collide like football players, Mohra lands underneath Angel and it’s all the opening he needs. He smashes the jewel on the demon’s forehead and moves on to help Wes and Gunn.

            Angel grabs one of the demons from behind in a headlock and gives Wes the chance to smash the jewel with his mace. Angel shoves my sword back into the gut of another Mohra. I watch as the demon’s glowing green blood begins to drip down the sword blade close to the hilt and I know what Angel is scared of.

            “Angel!” I scream. He lets go of the sword and looks up just in time to catch the stake I toss to him. He smashes the jewel with the stake.

            Gunn is holding his own with his Mohra, avoiding most of the strikes, just waiting for the chance to step in close enough to get the killing blow. Angel throws my stake like a dart and it lands in the back of the demon’s neck with a sick thud. It won’t impair the demon much, it certainly wont’ kill him but the demon is distracted long enough for Gunn to step in and smash the red jewel. I sink to the ground, my hand over the gash in my stomach. I notice I am not the only one with injuries. Wes’ right arm is covered with blood and Gunn’s shirt is becoming sticky with blood at the shoulder.

           

            “Buffy, let me see.” Angel is on his knees lifting the hem of my shirt so he can look at my wound. He doesn’t realize he’s in vamp face.

 

            “It’s not really that bad. It just looks it. I don’t think it got any major organs.” I say.

 

            “You need a hospital and stitches. And you’re hands-” Angel insists. He gently holds my hands palm up in his.

 

            “No, really. I’ve been shish k bob before. It’s not that bad. And my hands, I did that myself. They’ll heal. Check Wes’ arm and Gunn’s shoulder. “

 

            “It’s a scratch.” Gunn says.

 

            “It’s, Uhm, okay I think .It just looks rather bad.” Wes’ assesses his arm.  “However, I believe some gauze, tape and disinfectant will suffice.”

 

            “My assessment exactly.” I say.

 

            “Buffy, no. You need a hospital.” Angel says again.

 

            “Angel, please, just take me away from here. Take me home.” I beg him with my eyes. I’m not playing fair, and I know it. I just want to avoid the hospital. I haven’t stepped inside of one since Mom. Nothing good ever comes of hospitals, at least not in my experience.

 

            “Yo, Angel. You might wanna change faces there, before we walk out on the beach and scare the crap out of the beach party.” Gunn says, pointing out Angel’s vamp face.

 

            He growls and struggles managing to wear his human face, but his eyes glow yellow. “I’m sorry, Buffy. It’s your blood.”

 

            I smile at him. His demon remembers my blood and that makes it harder, also blood of a slayer. “It’s okay. I understand.”

 

            “So no one else here feels uncomfortable that Angel can’t keep his face under control when we’re all bleeding like stuck pigs?” Gunn asks, looking dubiously at Angel who is still holding my hands in his.

 

            “It’s not your blood the demon wants, Gunn, so don’t worry about it.” My voice has turned frosty and defensive. “Now let’s get out of here.”

 

            Angel picks me up and holds me close. I tuck my face into the crook of his neck. He has gone full vamp face again. He strides out of the cave, taking care not to jostle me. Gunn and Wes follow close behind. I can tell Gunn is still not convinced everything is on the up and up.

            “Gunn, or Wes, drive. I want to sit in the back with Buffy.”

 

            “Angel, are you sure that’s wise?” Wes asks looking pointedly at Angel’s game face.

            “Just drive. Let me and Buffy worry about this.”

 

            We sit snuggled in the backseat. Angel checks on my gut wound, which is still seeping blood.

 

            “Buffy, I’m sorry. I didn’t expect Mohra demons.” He apologized to me.

 

            “I know. I didn’t want to risk you getting into any of their blood either. That’s not a decision I want either of us to have to make ever again.” I say running my fingertips over the ridges of his forehead. He turns his face away from me and looks out of the car. I notice he is taking deep breaths of the ocean air.

 

            “I wanted to. I wanted to drag a knife across my hand and dip my hand in their blood.” He says quietly.

 

            I want so badly to wrap myself around him and I know it will only hurt him.  He is having a hard enough time without me wrapping my blood around him. “I couldn’t survive another Day that Wasn’t. I’d die from the heartache, Angel.”

 

            “I know.  When she asked me if I could carry the burden of being the only one to remember, I didn’t know if I could. And it was a heavy burden to carry. I wondered every day if I had made a mistake, but it was also a gift.  I had one perfect day to sustain me through all the pain that has been my life.”

 

            I squeeze his hand, the only comfort I can give him right now, and wince at the pain it causes in my hand. I can feel the blood seeping down my wrists.  “Wes, drive faster.” I say blackness begins to invade the corners of my vision. Maybe a hospital wasn’t such a bad idea.

 

           

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

A/N For my purposes the Oracles have been replaced by something.

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            “Angel, what happened?” Fred meets us at the door of the hotel. She is fussing over Gunn’s shoulder. I lay Buffy gently on one of the couches in the lobby. I know I am still in vamp face and I can’t help it.

 

            “Mohra demons.” Wesley says. “Could you get the first aid kit, Fred? I think we’re going to need it.”

 

            Cordy comes down the stairs from the room she has been resting in. The visions take a lot out of her.  “Mohra demons?” She looks up at the ceiling. “That would have been nice to know, guys, thanks.” She walks into the lobby. “God, are you all okay? You look sorta, beat up.” She winces taking in the various injuries.

 

            “We’re fine. Buffy has lost a lot of blood.” I say.

 

            “Hello, hospital.” Cordy says.

 

            “I’m not going, Cordy.” Buffy says. Her voice is strained and it doesn’t sound as if she could put up much of a fight even if she wanted to. “They’d only give me some blood, which I’ll make enough of on my own and then want to do a thousand tests on me because they’ve never seen anyone heal as fast as I do.”

 

            “The healing is part of the slayer package, right?” Gunn asks.

 

            “She heals almost as fast as I do. She’s right; there would be a lot of questions.” I say.

 

            “Well if you pass out, I’m taking you.” Cordelia says to Buffy.

 

            Buffy looks at me. There is steel in her eyes. “You try to take me to the hospital, or let them, and I will get up and walk out of here. You don’t believe me, try it.”

 

            “Just lay still, Buffy.”  I rip her shirt just below her breasts. The stab wound has stopped bleeding for the most part, but there’s so much blood I can’t tell how bad it is.  Cordy walks up behind me with the first aid kit.

 

            “Angel, you might want to look less bumpy, more broody.” Cordy says.

 

            “I can’t.” I growl

 

            “Then step back and let me take care of her. Fred has Gunn and Wesley. You don’t need to be this closes to this much slayer blood.” Cordy steps in front of me and gives me a gentle push.

 

            I start pacing in front of the desk.

 

            “So, Angel, are you going to actually tell us what the deal is with the face and the blood or just wear a track in the floor.” Gunn asks. He’s waiting in line for Fred’s medical services. Apparently Wes’ arm is worse then his shoulder.

 

            I snarl in response. Wes decides to take up the gauntlet and tell the story. “Slayer blood is an aphrodisiac, a delicacy of sorts, to vampires. There have been reports of it being particularly powerful.”

 

            I glare at Wes. “I was almost dead. Her blood healed me in a matter of seconds.”

 

            “Yes, well then. There you have it.” Wes looked uncomfortable and not from just the disinfectant Fred was using.

 

            “Wait a minute. You drank her blood? This was when you were evil?” Gunn looks suspiciously at me.

           

            “He was dying. I made him drink.” Buffy says weakly from the couch. She is defending me even in her condition which doesn’t surprise me; she defended me after I had nearly drained her of blood too.

 

            “And you thought your relationships were screwed up.” Cordy quips.

 

            I snarl at Cordelia’s comment and continue pacing in front of the desk.  The smell of Buffy’s blood is overwhelming.

 

            “So, should we be worried about Angelus coming for a visit?” Gunn asks. His comment enrages me, but he doesn’t mean anything by it.

 

            “My demon is as obsessed with Buffy as I am. He’s not going to kill her, even if I did slip and let him out, which I won’t. Contrary to the way it looks, I am controlling him, not the other way around.”

 

            “He’s right. Angelus would be much more likely to kill and torture us all and then turn Buffy.” Cordy says.

 

            “Cordelia, not helping.” I snap. “How is she?”

 

            “Well, I still say hospital, but it’s not as bad as it looked. The bleeding has stopped and it’s kind of already healing.” Cordy says. “Buffy, can you sit up? Slowly, you don’t want to start bleeding again. I want to wrap this gauze around you so it stays in place. “

 

            I am beside her in an instant. I prop her up against me and kiss the crown of her head. Cordy has washed away a lot of the blood and while the vamp face is still making an appearance, I’m not fighting such an internal battle with the demon at the moment. Cordy finishes bandaging Buffy’s abdomen and both her hands.

 

            “Do you want me to take you up to our room?” I ask Buffy.

           

            She shakes her head and looks up at me through sleepy eyes. Her eyes show no revulsion or terror at seeing my vamp face. She looks at this face with as much love in her eyes as she does my human face. I am struck once again by what a miracle she is. She looks so young and vulnerable. It is very easy to forget she is the slayer. “No, here is good. I just wanna sleep.”

 

            I smile at her and I feel my human face slide into place. I smooth her hair back from her forehead. She is everything that makes me feel human. “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

            The lobby clears out quickly. Wes and Cordy go to their own apartments. Gunn and Fred go to their room. Everyone is exhausted. Buffy falls asleep almost instantly.  I sneak into the kitchen and make myself a glass of blood. I take it back into the lobby and scoot a chair close to the couch. I sip at the blood and try to ignore how much I want it to be Buffy’s blood.

            When I finally fall asleep, I am plagued with nightmares of Angelus drinking Buffy.

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            The phone wakes me up. “Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless.”

 

            I stretch and a twinge of pain reminds me of my injuries. I instinctively place my hand over my stomach. Angel is there beside me. I can feel him even before I open my eyes and it makes me smile. The first sight I see when I open my eyes is Angel, smiling at me.  “Mmm, what’s the smile for?”

 

            “You’re awake. How do you feel?” The smile is instantly replaced with worry. If Angel aged at all he would have deep wrinkles from all the worrying, frowning, scowling and brooding he does. One day I’d like to see those wrinkles.

 

            “Well, I’m going to pass on the Boston Marathon but something local might be an option.” I say with a grin.

 

            He chuckles and kisses the back of one of my bandaged hands. “I’m going to make breakfast. You still like your eggs scrambled?”

 

            “Yes, please.” I smile at him as he takes everyone else’s order. I look down and notice how gross I am, still in my bloody clothes. “Cordy, or Fred, if I go take a shower and change into something less gross, will one of you come help me with new bandages in a little bit?”

            “I can do that. I think my brain is getting cramped from all the reading anyway.” Fred offers helpfully.

 

            The hot water feels wonderful. The shampoo and soap stings the healing cuts on my palms. I can see blood washing down the drain with the water. A little voice in the back of my head reminds me that one small shot of heroin could take all this pain away. I squash the voice and try to ignore the pain. In my years as a slayer, I have learned a lot about pushing through the pain.

            I get dressed in a very loose, low rise pair of navy workout pants and a bra. I open the door a crack and yell for Fred. She is up here shortly with gauze, tape and disinfectant. I wonder how many miles of gauze and tape I used in my time as a slayer.

            “It started bleeding a little in the shower but I think it’s stopped now.”

           

            “It looks like it has. You know, this wound really could have used stitches.” Fred looks up at me.

 

            I wrinkle my nose. “We need an on site paramedic or something. I hate hospitals.”

 

            “Well, they aren’t fun but the doctors there do a lot of good.” Fred said.

 

            I shake my head. “When I was eight my cousin, Celia, died in a hospital. I was with her, alone, when it happened. Then the flu, with the help of Angelus, put me in the hospital when I was 17 and Willow was in the hospital. Then I was in the hospital again, and Faith was in a coma. Then all the stuff with my Mom, I don’t do hospitals. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

 

            “No, it’s okay.” Fred smiles at me as she finishes taping my stomach. I hold my hands out and she quickly wraps those up and secures the bandages with tape. “There you go, good as new---well, a new hurt person.”

 

            I pull on a white tank top and a navy sweat jacket. I braid my wet hair back in one long braid and start back downstairs. In the lobby everyone is scarfing down eggs, bacon and toast.

 

            “Feel better?” Angel asks.

 

            “Much and everything seems to be healing okay.” I answer him with a smile. He pours a glass of OJ for me and fixes a plate. I sit down at the curved desk with him and the others. Wesley is eating and simultaneously flipping through a dusty old book, much like all of Giles’ old dusty books. I am eating very clumsily with my bandaged hands. Angel smiles at me and takes the fork from me.  I’m not sure if it’s comforting or disturbing to be fed by someone.

 

            “So, this is the demon that turned Angel human, right?” Cordelia says. Everyone in the room turned and stared at her. “What? Doyle told me before he died.”

 

            “You never mentioned it.” Angel said.

 

            “Oh, yeah, I’m going to come up to Mr. Broody Boss and say by the way I’m really sorry you had to give up every bit of happiness you’ve ever known to save Buffy and oops she died anyway. I’m blunt I’m not completely insensitive.” Cordy said with a roll of her eyes. “Geez, you people.”

 

            “Ok, seriously needing back-story here.” Gunn said.

 

            “It’s a long story, filled with angst, sappiness, pain and all those other ingredients in the Buffy Angel saga.” Cordelia said.

 

            “Buffy was in LA. A Mohra demon attacked us. His blood mixed with mine and I ended up human. Buffy and I spent the day together. The demon came back because I didn’t smash his jewel. It said the End of Days had begun and more would come. I talked to the Oracles. They said Buffy would die in the End of Days. I traded my life for hers. They turned back the day. It never happened. No one remembered but me. Mohra attacked I smashed his jewel. Buffy went home. End of story.” Angel tried to sum it up quickly. The pain in his voice was evident.

 

            “Until I went to Heaven, then I remembered what Angel has come to call the Day that Wasn’t.” I injected.

 

            “Wow. So what happened? I mean, Buffy died anyway.” Gunn said.

 

            “That was a whole different tragedy. Let me see if I can do it in 25 words or less. Hell god opened a portal to her dimension using my sister’s blood as the key. It would only close when all of Dawn’s blood was gone. I jumped in her place and closed the portal. Wound up in Heaven. And I think I ran a bit long.” I open my mouth for another bite of eggs.

 

            “18 months. She died 18 months after I traded my life for hers.” Angel said. He was quickly becoming broody guy.

 

            “And hey only dead 4 and I’m back in action.”

 

            “Impressive.” Cordy said.

 

            “I thought so, but I did kind of ruin it by taking the 2 years vacation.” I retort. “I’m thinking it cost me the Watcher’s Council Employee of the Decade award.”

 

            “Hmm, probably.” Cordy muses like what I’ve said is perfectly sensible.

 

            “Wes, I need as much information on Mohra demons as you can find. Doyle said they were assassins before, sent to take out warriors. There were 6 of them in that cave. I want to know what’s up. Last time it was the End of Days, and only one Mohra was sent. It’d be nice to have a heads up.” Angel was looking more worried by the moment.

 

            “I’ll get on it. I have to be honest though, there’s not a lot of information on Mohra demons as a whole.” Wesley said.

           

            Angel nods. “Okay then find out what you can about oracles. Somebody had to replace them when the old ones were killed. I’m going to talk to Lorne and see what he knows about this.”

 

            I put my hand on Angel’s arm. “I want to go with you.  This has as much of an impact on my life as it does yours.”

 

            “Buffy, you’re injured.” He argues.

           

            “It’s talking, not fighting. On my worst day, I can still talk.” I tell him. I fix him with what I call my “slayer” look.

 

            “Alright, but if it gets dangerous, I fight, you hide. There will be no exceptions.” He gives me that intense, authoritative look that turns my knees to jelly.

 

            “Okay.”

Chapter Sixteen

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            We took the sewers to get here. However, for understandable reasons, the sewer access to Lorne’s club is blocked. I stand in the shadow of the Caritas alley while Buffy bangs on his door. I hear the door open and Buffy beckons to me. I run into Lorne’s with my duster pulled over my head.

 

            Lorne is wearing his velvet and satin robe. He waves his hand in the air, trying to clear it of smoking vampire smell. “So, Angelcakes, what brings you and your lady love out in the very bright sunny middle of the afternoon?”

 

            “We need to see the Oracles. We encountered some assassins last night. Buffy got hurt. I need to know if there’s something going on.” I get right to the point.

 

            “Angelcakes, the Oracles kicked the proverbial bucket. I can’t help you.” Lorne says.

 

            I grab him by the lapels of his robe and pull him up. “Then find someone who can. They must have been replaced by something.” I let him go with a growl. Buffy puts her hand on my arm.

 

            “He doesn’t mean to be all grrr.” Buffy apologizes for me. And I think how wrong she is. I mean to be all “grrr” and more if it gets me answers in this case. Buffy has seen the things Angelus can do. She has no idea how dark I can be without him ever entering into the picture.

 

            “Come back after the club closes tonight. I’ll ask around, read some people, and see what I turn up with. I’m not promising anything though.” Lorne says.

 

            “Have something.” I snap and I turn on my heel to leave.

 

*

 

            We spent the rest of the day and night hunting down every contact I have ever made in LA. I paid coerced and beat information out of every one I knew. No one knew anything.  It was almost 2am and we were on our way back to Caritas. Buffy looked exhausted. She was favoring her side and she had slowed down remarkably since the day had begun.

           

            “Buffy, why don’t I take you back to the hotel. You look tired and you’re injured. I can finish this up myself.” I suggested.

 

            “No. The last time you talked to the Oracles by yourself you took back being human, without consulting me. I’m going with you if you have to carry me.” Her tone was firm. It left no room for argument.

 

            “I know it’s been a long day. I’m sorry. I just don’t want something sneaking up on us. I can’t lose you now, Buffy. If the End of Days are coming, I want to know. I want us to be prepared.”

 

            She smiled tiredly at me. “I know. I do too. Besides the boy scout motto is a good way to go, Always be prepared.” She wrinkles her brow, “Maybe that’s the girl scout motto. It could be the Giles motto. I’m not really sure.”

 

            I chuckle at her. It is amazing she can laugh and joke during a time like this. Buffy’s spirit has always been indestructible. It’s one of her greatest strengths. I take her hand tenderly, taking care not to hurt her. “Buffy, I love you.”

 

            She smiles and I swear it is noon on the sunniest day of the year. She is the reason I don’t miss the sun anymore. “I love you too.”

 

            Caritas is emptying out when we arrive. We wait until everyone has left. Lorne sits down at the bar with us and slides a bit of paper to me. “That’s your address.”

 

            I raise an eyebrow at him. “Where did you find it?”

 

            Lorne shakes his head. “Lawyer from Wolfram and Hart. I get different ones in here every now and then. This one is worried about his termination, and I don’t mean his job. Anyway I found that.”

 

            “Thank you Lorne.” Buffy reaches out to put a bandaged hand over Lorne’s green one.

 

            “Oh, anything for you Sweet cheeks.” Lorne promises.

 

            I chuckle. Lorne is as smitten with her as I am. I have to admit. It’s hard not to be.

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I don’t know what I expected an Oracle to be. It wasn’t a little Irish man in a funny bowling shirt and a leather jacket, that’s for sure.  He was waiting for us in front of the downtown Los Angeles library.

 

            “Doyle?” Angel said. His face registered shock and surprise. He also looked happy to see the man. “You’re the new Oracle?”

 

            “Nah, not really an oracle. Still just a lowly messenger. Powers that be heard you wanted to talk to someone, thought they’d send a familiar face this time ‘round.” The man said with a distinct Irish accent.

 

            “So I guess bringing up the whole Day that Wasn’t with you won’t really do us any good.” I say.

 

            “Sorry, Princess. I can’t help you there. Personally, I’m on your side.”

 

            “Doyle, we ran into a group of Mohra demons, six of them. I need to know why.” Angel said. His voice sounded urgent and tired at the same time. I was aware he wasn’t the only exhausted one here.

 

            “It’s kind of funny you should ask that. Someone heard that the two strongest of the Powers warriors were together. They thought maybe taking you two out at once would clear the playing field for when the final battle does come. Everyone else might have forgotten but they remember how strong the two of you together are. You’ve got a battle coming, but together you are strong.” Doyle says. “Angel, you gotta come with me. I’ve got something to show you.” Doyle holds out his hand.

 

            I grab Angel’s bicep. “No! He’s not going anywhere without me.” I step in front of Angel and unconsciously take a fighting stance. I don’t know how hard it is to kill an Oracle but I will before I let anyone take Angel.

 

            Doyle seems to consider the heavens a moment and then he looks at me with a charming grin. “Alright then, Darlin. This appears to be a trip for two.”

 

*

 

            I take Doyle’s hand. My other hand is still around Angel’s bicep. There’s a flash and my stomach feels like I’m going down the first steep grade of a rollercoaster. I’m dizzy but everything solidifies after a moment and the world comes back into focus.

 

            The room looks like a comfortable library, but cavernous.  Doyle stands to one side. I didn’t know him in life, but he looks sad.

 

            “Doyle, what is it?” Angel asks.

 

            “You’ve got some trials to go through, Angel, to prove you are a worthy warrior.” Doyle says sadly.

 

            “Trials? Our entire lives have been trials. He gave up humanity!” I scream.

 

            “Yes, Darlin, but that was for love. They’re talking about bein a warrior here.”

 

            “No, it’s not fair. He fights every day. If they actually paid attention to his life and got off their immortal asses they’d know that.” Doyle reminds me a little too much of Whistler. I hated him.

 

            “He doesn’t really have a choice, Darlin, neither do you.” Doyle indicates Angel a few feet away. He didn’t move over there, I swear it. I was holding his hand just a moment ago. Two large reddish demons with spiked collars walk up to him and speak. I can not hear them only see their mouths moving.

 

            “What are they doing to him?” I ask. I can hear the panic in my voice and my skin is starting itch.

 

            “Preparin him for the trials.” Doyle says.

 

            I watch as the demons take away Angel’s duster, his shirt, his boots and his socks. I run to him and hit an invisible barrier. “Angel!” I scream. He turns and looks at me. He smiles slightly at me and nods reassuringly. I hit the barrier with a fist, over and over.

 

            “That won’t help, Princess, and you’re only hurtin yourself.” Doyle takes my wrist and leads me over to a comfortable wingback chair that wasn’t there a moment ago. My hand is bleeding again.

 

            “Doyle, I have to know. What are they going to do to him?” I am fighting back tears.

 

            “I don’t know. I’m just the messenger.” He hands me a bottle of cold water. I keep my eyes fixed on Angel. 

 

            “Here, Darlin, hold on to these. You can give them back to him when the trials are done.” Doyle hands me Angel’s shirt, boots with socks stuffed down in them and duster. I put the duster on and wrap it around me. It smells like Angel.

 

            Angel is in a big empty room. A door in the wall opens and a man in dark clothes walks in. My heart stops beating. I know the man as well as I know Angel. It’s Angelus. “Oh, God.”

Chapter Seventeen

A/N Kleenex alert. You’ve had fair warning, I cried writing it.

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

 

            “Well, well, well. What have we here, Soul Boy?”

 

            It can’t be. This has only happened in my nightmares. “Angelus. I’m not used to seeing you up and about.” I respond.

 

            He chuckles in a way that is very like me, but not at all. “Get used to it. This little ‘trial’ is going to set me free and destroy you. See, we’re supposed to run around and try to kill each other. Who ever wins walks out of here.” I see him looking beyond the room. “First thing I’m going to do when I get out, get me a little piece that blond slayer action. I’ve gotta say, Soul Boy or not, you’ve got good taste.”

 

            “Leave her alone. This is between you and me. It always has been.” I grit my teeth and clench my fists.

 

            “It is between you and me, but I figure share, share alike. It’s all good. When I suck down Blondie I’ll go after Cordelia. Now that’s a woman with some physical attributes. I never saw why you picked stick figure Barbie when you could have had the real deal.”  Angelus says.

 

            He walks in a circle around me, slapping a pair of gloves into his open palm. The room flickers again. The walls around me are covered in crosses. There are wooden crosses, iron crosses, and silver crosses of all shapes and sizes. The stone floor I’m standing barefoot on has tiles with crosses on them scattered randomly through out it.

           

            “Not really playing fair are you, Angelus, but then you would have to cheat to beat me.” I watch him pace the room. He is wearing black leather pants, heavy black boots and a leather jacket. He has a pair of black leather gloves in his hand.

 

            “See, Soul Boy, that’s the difference between you and me. You care about words like fair and cheating and honor. I don’t give a damn. I just want to win. Of course it’s more fun if you step up to play but if you lay there and let me kill you, well that works for me too. You do seem a little, under equipped for this fight though.” He says looking pointedly at my bare chest and feet.

 

            “You want to hand me a wooden stake, I’m not going to complain.”  I can see nothing in this room I can use against him that he won’t have more of an advantage against me.

 

            “You know, Soul Boy, one of your problems always has been that you want to talk things out, get down to the feelings. I’m more a man of action myself.”  Angelus says.

 

            I glance toward the invisible barrier, where I can see Buffy standing, her hands pressed against it, tears running down her face. I never see the side kick to my gut, which sends me flying across the room. I hit the cross covered wall and slump down on the ground. I shake my head to clear it and stand up.

 

            “Come on, Soul Boy, gotta stay on your toes if you’re ever going to get back to Buffy the vampire layer.”

 

            “Don’t. Say. Her. Name. You’re not good enough” I charge him, catching a shoulder in his gut and ram him back against a wall. I don’t give him a moment’s reprieve. I attack with a series of punches to his face. He catches me with a knee in the groin. I had forgotten Angelus can fight so dirty.

            I fall to my knees and catch myself with my right hand, right on a cross covered tile. I jerk my hand back with a hiss. Angelus catches me in the ribs with another kick. I slide across the floor, landing against the wall. The crosses burn into my skin. I roll to my feet just in time to dodge another kick from Angelus. I grab his ankle and twist, sending him flying through the air. He lands with a bone jarring crunch.  He gets up a bit slowly and wipes blood from his nose. He licks the blood off his hand.

 

            “I’m not good enough?.” He cackles. “That’s a good one. I am you. All those things I did, you were right there. Admit it you miss the massacres, the torture and most of all the human blood. You wanted to rip her throat out last night. All that warm, rich, seductive Slayer blood everywhere was driving you crazy.”

 

            “No, you’re the darkness in me that I keep chained up. It must drive you crazy helping people, drinking pigs’ blood, saving puppies.” I taunt right back. Mind games are half the battle with Angelus.

 

            “I have to admit, you have a point there, Soul Boy. That won’t be a problem once I’m free. And that soul of yours, did I mention if I win it gets destroyed. Your little red headed bitch can’t put it back in.” He attacks with a roundhouse punch. I block it easily.

 

            “I think a few years in chains have taken your edge off, Angelus. Not quite the fighter you were when you were loose in Sunnydale, of course Buffy kicked your ass all the way back to hell.” I catch him with a punch to the kidneys. He doubles over. I grab a handful of his hair and slam his face into my knee. I grab him by the collar and throw him against the wall.

 

            Angelus gets up slowly, wiping at more blood on his face. “Sunnydale, let’s talk about Sunnydale. That is probably one of my favorite places. You know Buffy looks so cute when she’s hurting. I used to watch her sleep at night, and imagine all the ways I could torture her. Wouldn’t want to kill her because really no one cries like our Buffy.”

 

            I lunge at him, catching a handful of his jacket and dragging him down to the floor. We grapple on the floor, throwing body punches. He rolls me on my back, right on a cross tile. My flesh burns and bubbles as he holds me there.

 

            “Itches don’t it?” Angelus mocks. He has his hand over my throat. I squirm and eventually throw him off of me.

 

            “Not as much as this is going to.” I rip one of the iron crosses off the wall, and swing it, hitting him across the head. He flies across the room and ends up slumped against the wall unconscious. I drop the cross.

 

            “Get me the hell out of here!” I scream to the ceiling.

 

            A wave of dizziness sweeps over me. I nearly fall to my knees.

 

            “Careful what you wish for, Soul Boy.” Angelus’ voice mocks me.

 

*

 

            When I wake up I am in manacles. The chain is run through a ring bolted to the wall. Angelus is sitting in the corner near a blazing fireplace.

 

            “I thought you were never going to wake up.” He says standing and walking over to me. “I know, not a fair fight. It’s not your rules we’re playing by here, is it.”

 

            “What? I made you nervous kicking your ass out there?” I snarl at him.

 

            “You wanted to get out of there. Sorry, you don’t’ get to specify where you end up. Now this is where we’re going to have fun. There are so many new inventions since I tortured someone. It will be exciting to use them all and since I can’t really kill you accidentally, I’ll have plenty of time.”

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I turn with wide eyes to Doyle. “Get him out there. He’ll kill him.”

 

            “Sorry, Darlin, I don’t have any say in this. I’m just the messenger.”

 

            I grab him by the throat and slam him against the wall. “Then give someone who can get him out of there this message. I want him out now. If I don’t get him out now, I’ll kill every single being until he is out of there, alive.”

 

            Doyle coughs and gasps. I let him turn purple before I release him and let him fall to the ground He gets up coughing. “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can do. Sit tight.”

 

The room flickers and he is gone. I turn my attention back to what is going on in the room beyond the invisible barrier. Blood runs down my wrist. I reopened the wound on my hand choking Doyle. I can feel blood begin to soak through the bandage on my stomach.

 

 

@--Angel--@

 

           

            “Now we’re going to start with something close to your heart, although not literally. That part will come later.” Angelus says uncovering a silver serving tray. There is a bottle of holy water and a syringe and needle sitting on it.

 

            “Let’s talk about the things our girl Buffy has been doing in my absence. She’s looking a little worn around the edges you know. Life without her Romeo hasn’t treated her well. She’s been whoring and doing drugs and drinking. I thought I was the only one with a flare for pain and torture but I’ve got to say you did a remarkable job of inflicting pain and torture on her, even without my help. In fact, you almost broke her when I couldn’t. I’ll have to think about that when I get out of here.”

 

            “Let’s leave Buffy out of the conversation.” I growl.

 

            “Oh, but the expression on your face is just priceless when I say her name.” He chuckles as he pulls a red hot branding iron from the fireplace. He advances toward me. The handle on the iron is long. He pushes the hot iron into my skin without ever getting close enough for me to grab him. I grit my teeth to keep from screaming in agony. The branding iron is tipped with a red hot cross. The agony doesn’t end when he pulls the iron away. It keeps burning.

 

            “Oh, good, you’re going to make me work for those screams. I was afraid the days of being the slayer’s lap dog had left you soft.”

 

            I can not respond because he claps the iron down on my shoulder again and it takes all my willpower not to scream.

 

*

 

            He thinks he’s worn me down and in truth he has. The only part of me left fighting is the part that stood on that snow covered hill listening to a beautiful blond tell me “Strong is fighting, it’s hard and it’s everyday and we can do it together.” But that’s enough.

            I hang limply in the chains, waiting for my moment. My torso is covered in branding iron crosses. They still smoke around the edges.  Angelus takes his time drawing up a syringe full of holy water.

 

            “Now, back to our girl Buffy, you know she used to shoot heroin up between her toes. I would think that would be a bit prickly. I want you to tell me. Just for fun, I’m going to use holy water. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. I wouldn’t want to get any into your blood stream.” Angelus says coming closer to me.

 

            He crouches to grab a hold of my foot. I use every bit of strength I’ve got left and kick him in the face with both feet. He slides across the room. It wasn’t enough to knock him out though. He gets up, brushing himself off.

 

            “Looks like you’ve got some life in you yet, Soul Boy. I didn’t want get out the sledge hammer yet, but you had to go and piss me off.” He heaves a sledge hammer over his shoulder like it is weightless.  He walks over to me, staying out of reach of my feet, and readies the hammer like a bat. He takes aim and swings as hard as he can. My first scream is a good one. It echoes off the walls as my knee shatters. Out of the corner of my eye I see Buffy hit the barrier hard. Her screams match mine.

 

*

 

            He is careful, very careful, to only shoot tiny amounts of holy water into me. He knows to much will kill me. Tiny amounts only feel like I’m burning from the inside. The skin, where he injects the holy water, bubbles and burns all the way down to the muscle.

 

            Angelus drops the syringe. “I think we’re almost done here, Soul Boy. I’ve only got one more surprise left and then I’m going to have to go. So many people to kill, so little time.”

 

            I do not see the heavy piece of pipe he swings at my head. The last thing I hear before everything goes black is Buffy screaming my name. I’m glad that I’m going to hell with her voice being the last thing in my head.

 

*

 

            Excruciating pain wakes me up. It’s not surprising since Angelus still seems to be up and moving about. He’s crucifying me. I am lying on my back on a cross and the excruciating pain that woke me up is a spike being driven through my wrist. My other wrist and my feet are tied to the cross.

 

            “I’m glad you woke up, Soul Boy. I really didn’t want you to miss this. Besides, I’m going to give Buff a chance to say goodbye and it will be much less touching if you sleep through it.” He hits the spike with one last hammer stroke and then moves to my other wrist. I bite through my lip trying to hold back the screams. I scream anyway. My body is smoking from lying on the cross.

 

            “I wasn’t there of course, but I heard this is what they did to Christ. You’ve got to commend those Romans on their methods of torture. They were really first rate.” He says as he finishes hammering the second spike into my wrist.  I notice for the first time that the cross is on some kind of wheeled cart. He pushes me over to the barrier when Buffy is crying, screaming and pounding.

 

            Angelus makes a disapproving cluck in his throat. “Now now, Buff, don’t be like that. I’ll come visit as soon as I’m done here. Why don’t you say your goodbyes now? He won’t be coherent for much longer.”

 

            There is a radiant beam of light a few feet from my cross and an Oracle appears, a real one this time, not Doyle She has shining metallic skin, lavender tattoos and she’s wearing a white toga. She holds her hand up, palm out and Angelus flies across the room. She whispers a word of Latin and he is trapped behind the same sort of barrier that separates Buffy and I.

 

            “Hello, Warrior.” Her mouth does not move but her voice is everywhere.

 

            Buffy starts screaming. “Get him out of there. So help me, get him out of there or I’ll kill everyone here!”

 

            The Oracle turns her eyes to Buffy. “Quiet, lower being, unless you wish me to set Angelus free again.”

 

            Buffy quits screaming. Her lower lip is quivering and tears stream down her face.

 

            “You have passed the trials, Warrior. We give you this option in reward.  More assassins are being sent for her. She will die. If you still wish to trade your life for hers, we will protect her.” The Oracle said.

 

            I shake my head. “Last time I traded my humanity, it only bought her 18 months. I want a promise you’ll protect her longer then that.”

 

            The Oracle turns to face Buffy. She regards her silently for a moment. “If you trade your life, your unlife, your physical existence on this plane, we promise to protect her until she is old enough to die of old age.”

 

            I watch Buffy for her reaction. She is already shaking her head. “No, Angel, no. Stay with me, spend whatever time I have left here with me, please.”

 

            I would say I can deny her nothing but if I can give her a long, beautiful life by sacrificing my own, then I must deny her request. “Buffy, listen to me. You are my only light in the darkness that has been my life. I’m ready to go. I’ve walked this earth for 277 years as a human and a monster. I’ll wait for you and I’ll watch over you. I will never ever leave you. Our souls loved each other in heaven before and they will love each other after. Be brave, be strong and live for me. Please, Buffy, smile for me. I want your smile to be the last thing I see.”

 

            I love her and I love her more in that moment then I ever have.  She wipes at her tears with the backs of her hands and gives me the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. There is blinding pain and blinding light and then there is nothing but Buffy, smiling at me.

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

@--Buffy--@

 

            The light blinds me. I cover my face and fold into myself on the ground. There is so much pain I am numb.  The image of my Angel crucified is burned in my mind. I can also see the image of him giving me that special crooked grin that is mine alone.  I can’t breathe. I will never be able to breathe again. My heart doesn’t beat. I’m dead inside. It seems like time stretches on forever in this moment although like most surreal moments, I’m sure it was only a few minutes at the most.

            I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and look up through tears. It is the Oracle. I don’t think, I can’t think. I growl like a wild, feral animal and try to bite her hand.

 

            “Stand up. He needs you.” The Oracle says.

 

            I look behind her and I can’t believe my eyes. My Angel, he’s there, lying on the floor, broken, bruised and bloody but he’s there. I know I should be angry for whatever joke the Oracle is playing on us. I don’t care. I just want to touch him and make sure he’s real.

            I cradle his head in my lap. My tears bathe his face. “Angel.” His name is my prayer, my sacrament. It sounds like a question even to me. It always sounds like a question. Maybe because I can never truly trust that my eyes are seeing something I’ve dreamed of so often. He opens his eyes slowly.

 

            “Buffy,” His voice is weak and rough but my name still sounds precious on his lips.

 

            “I’m here, Angel. I’m always here.” I wipe at some of the blood on his beautiful face. I look up at the Oracle. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

 

            The Oracle smiles at me. “My sister told me about your Champion. She said he sacrificed every drop of human happiness and love he had ever known for you. I have my own gift to give, but I had to see if it was true. I had to see if he was truly the warrior my sister and brother said he was. I had to see if his love was strong enough to sacrifice his life. I had to see if his love was strong enough to fight for. A price had to be paid.”

 

            “So you did all this to make sure your sister wasn’t lying?” My voice is getting louder with every word.

 

            “No. I did all this to give him the chance to fight for his soul, to fight Angelus for it.”

 

            My mind is whirling. I can’t take in anything she is saying. “Ok, look, I’m tired, I hurt, I’m bleeding and I just watched my lover be tortured nearly to death. You’re going to have to drop the cryptic and talk in short complete sentences, nothing over two syllables.”

 

            The Oracle smiled again. “He won his soul. It’s anchored. He can’t lose it ever again. Angelus can never make an appearance.”

 

            Oh God, I can’t process anything else. I stare open mouthed at her. “There’s no clause?” I ask, needing it to be explained in the most simple of terms.

 

            “There’s no curse anymore. Your warrior has won his soul. It is his, just as surely as your soul is yours.” She says patiently.

 

            “Then that would mean it’s mine.” I say in wonder, looking down at Angel’s broken body.

 

            “Yes,” The Oracle says simply. She waves her hand and there is another flash of light.

 

*

 

            We’re sitting on the steps of the downtown Los Angeles library. I’m cradling Angel’s head in my lap. I take his duster off and drape it over his mutilated torso. I fumble in the pockets and find his cell phone, the one Cordy made me promise to turn on. I can see the dawn already beginning to lighten the sky.  I dial the private number to the hotel and listen to it ring.

 

            “Pick up pick up pick up pick up.” I chant to myself.

 

            After the seventh ring a very sleepy sounding Gunn answers. “Yah?”

 

            “Gunn, it’s Buffy. Get Angel’s car and get it to the downtown library now. We don’t have any time.”

 

            “Buffy?”

 

            I can tell he is still half asleep. “Gunn, dawn is coming. I can’t carry him.” There are desperate tears in my voice. That seems to wake him up.

 

            “Yah, I’ll be right there.”

 

            “Drive fast.”

 

            I hold Angel as close to me as I can. I glance up at the sky. I need to at least try and get him into the alley. I’m not sure Gunn is going to make it in time. “Angel, this is going to hurt. I’m sorry. I’ve got to move you though. I need you to try and stand up.”

            He nods very slightly. I get one arm over my shoulder and stand up slowly. Angel moves with me. He is trying not to cry out in pain. He hops on the leg Angelus didn’t smash and leans heavily on me. We start down the steps, one at time. I feel the wound in my gut reopen and blood begins to flow at a rather alarming rate.

            We’re down the steps. “Come on, Angel, just a few more feet to the alley. You’ll be safe there until Gunn comes.” He’s getting weaker and so am I. The sky is getting darker, but I think that’s just me. I’ve only got a little further to drag him and we’ll be in the shadowed alley.

            Angel’s black GTX screeches to a halt beside the curb. I look up to see Gunn jumping over the passenger side and I know I can quit. I never even feel myself hit the ground.

 

*

 

            The smell of  rubbing alcohol hits my nose. I take a sudden, deep breath and grabbed franticly at the tubes in my nose.

 

            “Buffy, Buffy, its okay. You’re safe.”

 

            I know that voice. “Giles?” I open my eyes and Giles is smiling at me and nodding.

            “You’re going to be just fine.” He assures me.

 

            That is not the question I need to know. “Angel?” My voice trembles. I’m afraid to know the answer but I have to.

 

            Giles drops his shoulder and indicates behind him. I sit up slightly and I can see Angel laying on the bed next me. He has as many tubes coming out of him as I do. I lie back down with a sigh of relief.

 

            “Apparently you passed out when Gunn got there. He brought both you and Angel to the hospital.”

 

            I panic. “No! Angel doesn’t have a heartbeat, he can’t be here.”

 

            “It’s alright Buffy. It’s a demon hospital. They see vampires all the time.”

 

            I struggle to sit up. Giles puts a firm hand on my shoulder. “Buffy, you have fifteen stitches in your abdomen. You need to stay lying down.”

 

            “No, Giles. I need to touch him.” I look up at Giles frantically.

 

            He nods hesitantly. “Just a moment.” He disappears behind a curtain and returns with a nurse of undetermined demon origin. They rearrange all my tubes and machines. Then they rearrange Angel’s. The nurse lowers the railing on one side of the bed and she and Giles roll my bed up next to Angel’s. She lowers the railing on his bed and then locks the brakes on both beds. I turn on my side and take his still hand in mine.

 

            “Now, be still. If either of you start moving around, I’m separating you.” The nurse says.

           

            “Yes Ma’am.” I feel like a scolded school child. Giles stands at the foot of my bed. I look at him with teary eyes. “Thank you.”

 

            He nods and smiles at me. “I’m going to tell them you’re awake.”

 

            “Okay, stall them for me. Give me a few minutes alone with him?” I ask.

 

            Giles nods and leaves the room.

 

            I squeeze Angel’s hand and reach my other hand over to lay it upon his chest. I am careful to avoid the multitude of bandages covering burns. “Angel, I’m here. Angel, wake up for me, please.”

           

            He doesn’t disappoint me. His beautiful eyes flicker and he looks down at me. He even manages a slight smile. He brings his other hand up and entwines it with the hand I have on his chest.

 

            “Buffy,”

 

            And I can’t breathe anymore.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I don’t remember a lot of it. It was too much like my nightmares, and thank God, less like my reality. I’ve still got the injuries to prove it happened though. They let Buffy and I out of the hospital after 24 hours. Once they got us stitched and gave us blood there wasn’t much they could do our bodies wouldn’t take care of themselves. They also got tired of telling Buffy and I that we weren’t allowed to share a bed.

            My shattered knee is healing but I’m confined to using a cane and staying off it as much as possible for the next few days. My skin is knitting over the places that the holy water burned it off. There are some particularly deep cross burns that will scar. All this is made extremely trivial because my soul is anchored now.

 

            “Tell me what she said again, one more time.” I ask Buffy. I have asked her this at least a dozen times over the past two days. We are lying in our bed with the door wide open under strict Cordelia orders of “No Hanky Panky” and this time to my utter joy it’s not because I’ll lose my soul. It’s because Buffy has 15 stitches the doctors don’t’ want her ripping.

 

            Buffy smiles at me and busies herself with playing with my hair. “She said your soul is anchored. There is no more curse, no more clause. Angelus can’t come out and play anymore. Your soul is yours.”

 

            Those are beautiful words.

 

*

 

            The hotel lobby is aglow with candle light. I have a  CD of Buffy’s  playing on the stereo. There is a small round table sitting in the center of the lobby. Dinner is sitting on the table and I have included all of Buffy’s favorite foods. A bottle of champagne is cooling in a bucket .I have turned off the phones and locked the doors. Gunn and Fred are staying in The Ritz, which I paid for, for the night.  Buffy is upstairs getting dressed. She got her stitches taken out this morning.

 

            I am wearing my tuxedo. The last time I wore it was at Buffy’s prom. I adjust the bow tie and check for the final time that everything is perfect. Buffy just spritzed herself with vanilla perfume, my sensitive nose tells me. It’s the last thing she does when she’s getting ready. I have butterflies in my stomach. She opens the door to our bedroom and steps out onto the landing. She is wearing her pink prom dress. I smile remembering that then she called it “a kick dress”. I have to agree with her, it is a “kick dress” but what’s inside the dress is more amazing.

            I remember she was beautiful on her prom night. It was tinged with such sadness though, it can not compare with tonight, when there is no sadness, no leaving and no stopping. She was a beautiful girl the night of her prom, tonight she is a breathtaking woman.

            She covers her mouth with her hands as she reaches the foot of the stairs. “Oh, Angel, you are beautiful. I’d forgotten what you look like in a tux.”

 

            “You’re stunning.” I tell her very simply and take her hands away from her beautiful mouth. Buffy’s mouth has always been one of my favorite things about her. The way her bottom lip is fuller then the top. It lends her a perpetual pout. I lean down and just barely brush that bottom lip with mine.

            Her entire being lights me on fire.

 

            The song “Wild Horses” comes on. I remember it’s the song we danced to at her prom. I hold my hand out to her. I want her to have a memory of dancing to this song that doesn’t include leaving. She takes it with a teary smile and I pull her into my arms. She lays her head on my chest like she did that night but the smile on her face isn’t bittersweet. It’s the smile that makes me forget I  haven’t seen the sun in 250 years. I am in awe, once again, at how perfect she was made for me. She’s tiny, her head rests on my chest where my heart would beat, just as it should, since she is my heart. Her tiny hand enfolds completely into mine. I can feel her breathing and I find myself falling into the same rhythm with my own unnecessary breathing. Her warmth radiates through me and I feel alive.

            The song ends and she pulls away from me a bit and looks up at me with her sunshine smile. “That was nice.” She says.

            “It was. Are you hungry? Do you want to eat now, or do you want a glass of champagne?” I ask, my nerves are returning.

 

            She looks over at the table. “Mmm, I want—“ she stops and looks up at me. Need, desire and love swell in her eyes. “You.” Her voice is husky and deep with desire.

 

            I sweep her up in my arms. Her hands come up to cradle my face. Her lips meet mine. Her kisses are soft, gentle at first. They become more heated and passionate. She devours my mouth, like she will take every bit of me in and never let me go. She gently nips at my bottom lip and I smile, knowing this is something I taught her. Her lips bruise mine and she licks across my mouth apologetically. She drops whisper soft kiss along my jaw, pausing to nuzzle my ear and nip at the ear lobe. She continues down my neck, stopping at the place my pulse would be. She rests her nose there, breathing me in. Then her lips are touching my skin again. She nips at my neck.

            I notice we are standing in front the bedroom door. I think we may have been standing here for awhile but I can’t remember anything but Buffy’s kisses. I fumble with the doorknob and decide it’s not worth it. I kick the door in and walk to the bed. She almost brings me to my knees when she bites down on my neck hard with her blunt little teeth. She giggles and whispers “Sorry,”

            We fall down on the bed together and I capture her mouth with mine. She tastes like cookie dough fudge mint ice cream and peanut butter and chocolate.  My fingers find the zipper on her dress and I slip it down her body. I fight for breath I don’t need. She’s not wearing anything underneath the dress.

 

            “Buffy,” It is the only thing I can say. I have no words for how beautiful she is.  Just as I don’t give her pet names or call her love because there is no name precious enough for her. I have no words for how much she means to me.

           

            “I’m getting cold, come here.” She beckons me back to her side and she starts slipping my clothes from my body. Once she has me undressed she stops and just stares for a moment. Her breath catches and I can her heartbeat speed up.  I take her in my arms and pull her back down to me. We are one, skin to skin, just as we were made to be. I trail butterfly kisses down her throat, stopping to slowly lick the hollow of her throat. She breathes out my name “Angel,”

            I return to her mouth. I am determined to take things slow and remember each moment of this night. She tastes salty and I look into her eyes. “Buffy, why are you crying?”

            “I’m so afraid I’m going to wake up and this will be a dream.” Her voice has gone from husky seductress to little girl lost in a matter of minutes.

            I capture her hands in mine and kiss her knuckles. “My dreams were never this sweet.” I reach over and fumble in my nightstand. I hadn’t intended to do this tonight, but somehow it seems right. I take the tiny silver claddagh ring I found in the mansion all those years ago and slip it over the fingertip of the third finger on her left hand. “Buffy, I told you once this ring means you belong to someone. Please, belong to me.”

 

            She smiles her sunshine smile through her tears. “I always have, Angel.”

Chapter Nineteen

@--Buffy--@

 

            I am fighting waking up. I snuggle closer to Angel and breathe him in. The familiar clean scent makes me smile. I can think of no better way to wake up then this. I feel his cool lips on my shoulder, working their way across my collar bone to my neck. There is one better way, I think and open sleepy eyes.

           

            “This isn’t a dream.” I smile sleepily looking up into his beautiful face.

 

            “It is for me, it’s just a real one.” He says and I wonder how he can turn me to mush with just that velvet voice of his.

 

            “You know, if the whole private investigator thing doesn’t work out, you could always work for those phone sex lines.” I muse while he is kissing my neck. I regret my words immediately because they cause him to stop what he is doing and look at me, that adorable confused expression on his face.

 

            “To steal one of your expressions, ‘Splainy.”

 

            I laugh at his attempt to copy my speech. “You have bedroom voice.” I run my finger down his throat and bring my hand to rest over his unbeating heart.

 

            “Buffy, you come up with the oddest things.” He says to me.

 

            “Oh, stop, you sound like Giles,” I slap my hand over my forehead, “And Oh God, the images. No mentioning father type figures in bed, ever again.”

 

            Angel chuckles. “I’m sure he would be dismayed to learn he had been mentioned here also.”

 

            “Eenh!” I make the noise in the back of my throat. “Stop it stop it stop it.”

 

            He laughs and it’s a good sound. “Hmm, do that again.” I purr.

 

            “Do what?” he asks.

 

            “Laugh, I want to hear lots of you laughing in the future.” I pause for a moment. “Are vampires ticklish?” Angel looks perplexed at the question. “It’s not a hard question, Angel. The world’s future does not hang on the balance of your answer here.” I tease him.

 

            “No, but mine could.” He gives me his lopsided grin and I feel my stomach flip flop.

 

            I dive for his armpits and we wrestle on the bed for a little while, me trying to tickle him and he determined not to let me. Somehow he ends up on top of me, our legs entwined. I forget all about tickling him. He brushes hair back from my face. He touches me as if I were something priceless. I capture his wrist in my hand and kiss the round scar left there when Angelus hammered the spike into him.

 

            “Was it worth it?” I ask

           

            In answer, he kisses me. Angel has this way of kissing where he pours all of his emotion, all of his love, his pain, his remorse, into that one kiss. I don’t know how he does it, but I know when he pulls away there are tears in my eyes.

 

            “I love you,” I whisper. I can’t help it. It’s an automatic response to a kiss like that.

 

            He runs his finger down my nose and lets it rest on my lips as if to seal his kiss there. “Buffy, I love you.”

 

            I surrender to the fact that we’re not getting out of bed today.

 

*

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I don’t know what time it is. I don’t really care. Time is endless in this room. Buffy is curled into me sound asleep.  She looks like one of Boticelli’s  angels. I’m hungry and it occurs to me she will be when she wakes up.  I grab a sheet and wrap it around my waist, sneaking out so I don’t wake her. I creep down the stairs, across the lobby and run straight into Cordy. Her hands fly up over her eyes.

 

            “Oh God! I’m scarred for life. Haven’t you ever heard of putting on pants!” She shrieks.

 

            I scuff my foot sheepishly across the stone floor. “Sorry, Cordy. I-uh-Buffy and I-Uhm-“

 

            “It’s okay, Mr.-I-Just-Got-My-Soul-Anchored, really not needing details on what you and Buffy were doing. Again, I’d like to stress the importance of pants here.”

 

            “Sorry, I just came down to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and grab some blood.” I hurry past her and into the kitchen.

 

            I heat a large Krispy Kreme travel mug of blood in the microwave and make Buffy two crunchy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I shout out a “Coming Through!” warning to Cordy as I run through the lobby and up the stairs.  I grin at the sight of Buffy, still sleeping soundly in our bed. She wakes when I sit down beside her.

 

            “You left.” She says with a pout.

 

            “I did, but I came back with food.” I hold up the plate with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on it as evidence.

 

            “Oooo, yummy. You even cut off the crusts. Is the peanut butter crunchy?” She sounds like a little girl.  She takes one of my offerings and lifts the edge of the bread up to check for herself.

 

            “Extra,” I promise.

 

            “You never forget the little things do you?” She asks me.

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

            “Like crunchy peanut butter instead of smooth.”  She picks at her sandwich.

 

            I shrug and sip on my mug. “I do, sometimes. Like I can’t remember what my father’s favorite meal was, or whether my little sister had brown eyes or green.” Generally a subject like this would be cause for melancholy and brooding. Buffy is sitting naked on my bed, and I can touch her anytime I want to without worrying about my soul. There is no room for melancholy or brooding today.

 

            “Yeah, that was like two hundred and fifty years ago though. I think you get cut a little slack after a century or so.” She rolls her eyes at me and takes a bite of sandwich.

 

            Buffy rarely comes right and tells me what’s bothering her. She winds her way around it with vague comments like that. I’ve gotten pretty good at decoding her. She still stumps me from time to time. “Buffy, I could never forget anything about you.  It doesn’t matter how long I live, I will never forget the color of your eyes, the way you look when you smile, your voice, the way you smell and feel or that you like crunchy peanut butter instead of smooth.” I tell her honestly.

 

             She bites her bottom lip and considers what I said. I can see her turning it over in her mind and it breaks my heart that she could ever think she would be forgotten when she was gone. She drops on all fours and arches like a great cat. She slinks over and kisses me lightly on the lips. She then sits down and snuggles back into me, wrapping my arm around her waist. “There, much better. You were much too far away, and have I mentioned, not touching me. Now finish eating, you’re going to need your strength if we’re staying in bed today.” She grins wickedly at me

 

            Have I mentioned lately that I adore this woman?

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I think we stayed in bed for 48 hours straight. We had so many years of not being able to touch to make up for.  Get your mind out of the gutter, it wasn’t just sex. Although, that was part of it, I mean have you seen him? It was the little touches, like laying next him, running my fingers over his face without being afraid that when we touch we won’t be able to stop.

            It’s very gratifying to touch Angel. I guess part of it is that he went without human contact for so long, but I like to think part of it is just my touch. When I touch him he closes his eyes and this slight, content smile comes over his face and he arches into the touch like a beautiful cat. It hurts me too, to know that my beloved, my soul mate has been so starved for human contact for so long. I know it’s something I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make up for him. Some part of me knows that not only am I making up for lost time, but I’m also making up for time when I’m gone, and he’s still here.

            I shake off my serious thoughts. I’m in bed with a man I love more then life, more then heaven. I’ve got much more interesting things to think about.

 

*

 

            We were asleep when the knock on the door came. Angel stood and wrapped the sheet around his waist. He answered the door, just opening it a crack. It was Gunn. I can just imagine Wesley, Cordy, Fred and Gunn downstairs, drawing straws to see who had to come up here and interrupt us. I’ll bet Gunn got fed up with it and decided to do it himself.

 

            “Guys, sorry to interrupt, but Cordy had a vision and I think you’re both gonna want to hear this one.” Gunn says.

 

            “We’ll be right there.” Angel says.

 

            We both throw on clean clothes, stepping over his tux and my prom dress that are still lying on the floor. We are downstairs inside of five minutes.

 

            “So, what’s the dire?” I ask, curling up on the funky round couch in front of the front desk.

 

            “I had a vision. It was confusing, almost like I was only seeing part of the picture. But it was Acathla and for some reason, Dawn. I don’t know what she had to do with Acathla, but she was definitely in my vision.” Cordy said.

 

            “We’ve got to call Giles, and Willow and Xander. They have to get Dawn out of Sunnydale.”

 

            “I agree. Xander can bring Dawn here. Gunn, Fred, Cordy, you three can stay with Dawn and Xander; make sure things are calm on the home front. Buffy, Wesley and I will go to Sunnydale.  We’ll see what we can find there.” Angel took control of the situation. My brain was still trying to process that Dawn was in trouble and someone else might be trying to raise Acathla.

 

 

*

 

            Angel’s GTX cruised along the highway through the darkness. The top was down and my hair blew.  I had the music turned up loud and a Sunnydale rock station poured out of it. My faulty logic said if the music was loud enough I wouldn’t be able to think about things like Acathla, sending my lover to hell or someone wanting to hurt my little sister. For once, Angel didn’t argue with me about the loud music.

 

            When we finally got to Sunnydale, and had that trip ever taken that long, Dawn and Xander were waiting with their bags packed. Dawn had wanted to stay until I arrived. I understood.

            We sat on the couch. I hugged her and pulled her long hair off her shoulders. “I won’t let anything happen to you, you know that, Dawnie.” I promised her.

            She sniffed and nodded. “I know. I just didn’t want to leave in the middle of the school year like this.”

 

            “I know, but right now the further from Sunnydale you are, the better. Xander will take good care of you. You and Gunn can play video games and I bet Fred can help with the physics paper you have due. It won’t be long, Dawnie. We’ll take care of things here and then you can come back.”

 

            Xander walked in the room. “Car’s all packed. You ready to go visit the Big City, Dawnster?”

 

            “Yeah, can we go shopping?” Dawn asks, resuming her normal 16 year old life.

 

            “In the daytime,” I say. I walk over to hug Xander. I whisper so that Dawn will not hear me. “Take care of her for me, Xan.”

 

            “I will. Take care of my Willow.” He whispers back.

 

            “Sure thing.” I promise as I release him. We walk out to the car with them and then wave until the taillights disappear into the darkness.

 

            “Where to now, Will?” I turn to the red headed witch.

 

            “Giles’ place. He’s already started research.” Willow says.

 

*

 

            It feels like my early college days, before everyone splintered and things started going crazy.   We sit scattered around Giles’ living room. There are books open all over the place.

 

            “I thought Acathla was buried under 6 feet of dirt and concrete.” I say.

 

            “He is. We even consecrated the ground. Willow put an alarm spell on it as soon as you called. If anyone touches the dirt near Acathla, she’ll know about it.” Giles say.

 

            I hate this. I hate having to relive one of the most horrible years of my life. I hate remembering Angelus and most of all I hate remembering that I sent Angel to hell. I don’t have any choice, someone has decided to pull a ‘This is Your Life, Buffy Summers’ on me.

 

            “Angel, who else knew about raising Acathla?” I turn to him and I can see the apology in his eyes before he begins to speak.

 

            “Drusilla and Spike. You dusted everyone else there.” He says.

 

            “Okay, so Dru might be trying to pull this off.” I reason.

 

            “She’d need someone to help her. Dru’s mind is not stable enough to concentrate on what she’d need to do for that long. If Dru is in on it, Spike is too.” Angel says.

 

            I shake my head. “I can’t believe Spike would hurt Dawn. He used to be very protective of her. Besides, even when Angelus was trying to suck the world into hell, he didn’t like the idea. He said he liked the world the way it was, with people walking around like happy meals on legs. Ok so not the best argument for him not hurting Dawn, but this long before he met Dawn.”

 

            “I agree with Buffy on this one.” Giles said. “He may still be a cold blooded killer, but I don’t think he’d hurt Dawn. He was fiercely protective of her after Buffy-I mean before she ran away.”

 

                        “Okay, but does anyone know where Spike is? He might be able to give us a lead on Drusilla.” Angel says.

 

            “No. After Buffy left, he stuck around for a bit and then disappeared. We haven’t heard from him since.” Willow said.

 

            “Buffy, anyone with the proper information and the intelligence to look about, could find out about the ritual of Acathla.” Wesley says.

 

            “Wes is right. And the way Drusilla rambles, she could have told anyone.” Angel points out.

 

            I sigh. “Great. We’re back to square one then. Have I mentioned how much I hate square one?”

Chapter Twenty

@--Angel--@

 

            Buffy and I wrap up the night by patrolling. We check out the master’s old lair and the factory. Buffy is quiet and I know this deal with Acathla is bothering her.

 

            “Cordy seriously needs to have visions with names and addresses.” Buffy grumbles.

           

            “She’s a seer, Buffy, not a rolodex.”

 

            “Sorry, didn’t mean to insult your precious seer.” Buffy launches a side kick at helpless lawn gnome and shatters it. I glance at the house, wondering if the people inside will even notice in the morning.

 

            “Buffy, don’t do this.” I plead. I don’t want to add a fight to her list of problems.

 

            “I just need some time to think. You head back to Willow’s, I’ll be there later.” She kicks at rock on the side walk.

 

            “Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything, Buffy.” I try to coax her into talking to me.

 

            “I know, and I will, but right now I need to think. The thoughts in my head aren’t even words yet.”

 

            I kiss her forehead. “Be careful and come back soon. You know I miss every second your gone.”

 

            “Me too.” She says as I walk away, letting my fingers slip through hers.

 

            *

 

            She finally comes to bed around 8am. She slips off her clothes and slides underneath the blankets. She has been crying. I can smell the salty tears and her eyes are red. She stops my words with a kiss.

 

            “Please, just make me forget, for just a little while.” She begs me.

 

            *

 

            We’re back in the magic box. I’m getting frustrated. Everyone looks to me like I have some secret answers to Acathla that nobody else knows. I tried to wake the guy up one time; I didn’t hold a conversation with him. I can hear Buffy in the training room beating on a punching bag. She lost patience with the research a long time ago.

 

            “Look, I wish I had the answers. I really do. I don’t belong to a ‘Tried to wake Acathla’ club and I haven’t been notified by who ever is trying to wake him.” I snap and I regret it as soon as I do. My acceptance into this group is tenuous, at best. “I’m sorry; I just want to make this better for Buffy. She and I will go talk to Willy this evening, see if he’s got any information. Willow, you might try calling some of the equipment rental companies. Whoever is doing this is going to need some excavation equipment.”

 

            “Good idea. I’ll get started.” The red head digs out the Sunnydale phone book.

 

            “Faith says she went by there last night and Willy knows nothing.” Giles says.

 

            I nod. “I’ll check it out anyway. Some of the demons might be more forthcoming telling me things. Faith hasn’t seen anything out of place, I suppose.”

 

            “She has not told me anything and Faith is generally up front about anything she finds on patrol.” Giles sounds proud, and a bit defensive of the former slayer-gone-bad.

 

            I nod. “Have her patrol all the usual spots tonight. Hopefully someone will know something.”

 

            “Mr. Giles and I will continue researching to see if we can find anything to shut Acathla’s mouth for good.” Wes says.

 

            I nod. “I’m going to go train with Buffy.”

 

            I walk into the training room that is now Faith’s. Buffy is pummeling the punching bag with lightening fast punches and well timed kicks. Her body glistens in sweat. She is so focused on the task that she does not notice me.

 

            “Want to hit something that fights back?” I ask with a hint of amusement in my voice.

 

            “Is that a challenge?” She turns to me, using one hand to steady the punching bag.

 

            I shrug. “If you think you’re up to it.”

 

            She grins at me. “Oh, I’m up to it.”

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I crack my knuckles. It’s been a long time since I’ve bullied Willy. I have to say, I’m looking forward to it. Willy looks at Angel and me nervously as we walk in.

 

            “Hey Slayer! It’s been a long time since we’ve seen the other slayer in here. And you’ve brought Angel with you. Long time no see, Angel.” Willy says this particularly loud. Several demons get up and walk out. 

 

            “So, Slayer, what can I get you?” Willy asks, nervously polishing his bar. “I’ve got a pint of fresh O Neg in the fridge, Angel. On the house.”

 

            Angel shakes his head. I take over the interrogation.

           

            “Acathla, Willy, what do you know about him?”

 

            “Demon guy, Angel tried to wake him up when he was evil. He disappeared when Angel did for awhile.” Willy says

 

            “You know Willy; it’s hard to tell when you’re telling the truth because it sounds so much like lying. And I’m really itchy to hit someone.” I crack my knuckles again.

 

            “Okay, okay. New bunch of vampires came in the other night. One of them had an English accent. Don’t get many vamps with European accents in here. They didn’t say much but I got the idea they were doing something big.”

 

            “Any idea where they are staying?” Angel asks.

 

            “I don’t know. That’s the truth. I’d tell you if I knew.” Willy says.

 

            “If we find out you knew more, Willy-“I don’t finish my sentence.

 

            “I know, I know, which is why I told you everything. I haven’t been beat up in a long time. I’d like to keep it that way.” He sounds as greasy as he looks, but I think he’s telling us everything he knows.

 

            Angel and I walk out of Willy’s. “Well that was nostalgic.” I say.

 

            Angel smiles at me.  “Now we’ve just got to see if we can come up with any ideas of where this English vamp is staying.”

 

            “We haven’t checked Spike’s old crypt. It’s possible he’s holed up there, especially if Dru has anything to do with this.”

 

            “Alright, anyway we can sneak up on them. I don’t really envision storming in there in the middle of the night without any idea of how many there are.” Angel says.

 

            “I don’t have any idea. We could have Willow pull up the plans for the electrical tunnels and sewer systems.” I dig in his coat pocket and pull out the cell phone he never uses.

            “Will, it’s me. I need the blueprints for the electrical tunnels and sewer systems. I need to know if there is access to Spike’s old crypt from either one. Give me a call on Angel’s cell when you find out.” I rattle off.

 

            “Will he actually answer it?” Willow asks me.

 

            I smile into the phone. “Nope, but I will.” I hang up and stick the phone in my jeans pocket. Angel watches me with an amused grin. “What? It’s not like you actually use it anyway.”

 

            He snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. “Nothing. It’s just nice to see you weaving your way into my life. I like it.”

 

            “Good, because I’m just going to keep weaving until I’m like a real wife.” I tease him.

 

            He grows serious and stops, looking down at me. I tremble on the edge of panic. I’m afraid that serious look means another talk about how many things he can’t give me and how I deserve all those things.

 

            “Do you want to be a real wife?” he asks.

 

            Now I’m even more scared. “What do you mean?” My mouth has gone dry and I swear there is no oxygen left in the air.

 

            “I mean do you want to be a wife.”

 

            God, he sucks at this. You would think two hundred and fifty years of dating would give a guy some finesse.  I don’t know what the right answer to his question is. If I say yes, is that going to launch him into a lecture about how he can’t be a normal husband, because he’s creature of the night husband and I deserve a normal husband and so forth and so on with the Angel speech. If I say no is that going to give him the impression I don’t want to marry him? Because there could be nothing further from the truth.

 

            “Angel, I want my future to be with you, whatever that means to you, in whatever capacity you want and I know that sounds pitiful, even to me but the truth is I tried having a future without you, it got me exactly no future. And I don’t know what your asking me and I’m afraid if I give you the wrong answer your going to take off because you can’t be Joe Normal Husband, but guess what I don’t want Joe Normal Husband, I want Creature of the Night Husband and I could care less about sunlight and children and besides, you know people adopt all the time so that’s not even a real issue so before you open your mouth and come out with some kind of lecture about the things I want and the things I need, try asking me first.”

 

            He looks at me confused, which I don’t understand because I spoke perfect English, or perfect Buffy, which maybe why he’s looking at me like I grew a second head.

 

            “Buffy, I think that’s what I was trying to do, ask you.”

 

            “Oh,” I scuff my foot. “Let’s just rewind the little Buffy rant then.” I look up at him. “Could you rephrase the question?”

 

            He gives me that lopsided grin and my stomach does its little flip flop. “Buffy, what I’m trying to ask you is-“he pauses and looks around the cemetery we have somehow walked to. He drops down on one knee. Oh God, I’m going to have a heart attack. It will be in Sunnydale’s paper tomorrow on the front page. Girl’s creature of the night boyfriend finally asks her to marry him and she drops dead of a heart attack at his feet. More on the 6 o’ clock news.

 

            “Buffy, will you be my wife?”

 

            I really really can’t speak. I mean Angel makes me breathless all the time but eventually I can you know, breathe. This time I’m going to hyperventilate and won’t that be a lovely story to tell when we’re old and gray, ok so when I’m old and gray living at the Old Slayer’s Home. I squeaked.

 

            “Buffy,”

 

            I nod. I can only nod and throw my arms around him. I knock him flat on his back and we both lay there giggling.

 

            “Is that a yes?” he finally asks. “Because a guy likes to know for certain.”

 

            “That’s an absolutely without a doubt hell yes.” I say with a smile.

 

            “That’s the answer I was hoping for.” He said.

 

            “This was planned?” I arch a brow at him.

 

            “Actually, I was going to ask you next Friday. I have tickets to an opera in LA. I have a limo reserved and dinner for two in the Blue Room at the Pig and Whistle. Somehow it seemed right to ask you tonight.” He says.

 

            He planned this! He actually planned asking me to marry him. I get tears in my eyes and I squeeze them shut tight.

 

            “If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up.” I whisper.

 

            “Not for the world.” He smiles at me and kisses me with one of those trademark all the emotion in my body Angel kisses.

Chapter Twenty One

@--Angel--@

 

            We woke up late. Willow left a note in the kitchen saying she had gone to the Magic Box and that we should stop by when we got a chance.  I made Buffy scrambled eggs and had them waiting for her when she got out of the shower.

 

            “So are you still going to make me breakfast when we get married or are you going to turn into one of those guys that sits in his recliner drinking beer and watching sports all day long?”

 

            I grin at her. She has the oddest perception of life. “I kind of thought, I’d keep making you breakfast since you really don’t cook. Some one has to take care of you.”

 

            “It’s not that I don’t cook, it’s that Buffy and fire are never a good thing.”

 

            “I can see the not cooking then.” I sit down beside her to finish my mug of blood while she eats breakfast. I’m very careful not to slurp when she’s eating. Anyone walking in the room would assume I’m drinking a cup of coffee. She has never acted like my eating in front of her bothered her but I am self conscious about it anyway.

 

 

            We arrive at the Magic Box through the sewers. Everyone is already gathered there, including Faith.

           

                        “Hey B, Angel, good to see you both.” Faith hugs me. She has changed since I last saw her. She doesn’t look quite as hard or as calloused as she once did.

 

            There is discomfort between Faith and Buffy. I expected it. I’m not sure if anyone else did or not. Buffy shakes it off and returns to business as usual.

 

            “We went by Willy’s last night. He told us there was a new vamp gang in town. Leader has an English accent. Anyone heard anything about him?” she asks.

 

            “Yeah, I dusted an English vamp last night. Took out two others with him.” Faith said.

            “You didn’t think to question him first, ask him anything?” Buffy’s voice crept louder and higher with each word.

 

            “Hey, I had no idea we were looking to fill a position for Interview with a Vampire.” Faith defended.

 

            Buffy sighed and turned her back to everyone.

 

            “That’s good though, I mean if he’s dead no one is going to try and raise Acathla, right?” Willow pointed out.

 

            “In theory, I’d still like to find out if there is any of their gang left and keep an eye on Acathla’s burial site. I want to know everything is as safe and normal as possible before I bring Dawn back here.” Buffy says.

 

            “Where did you catch them, Faith?” I ask. It might be a clue to where their lair is.

 

            “Over at Sunny Rest, near the Alpert’s mausoleum.” She says.

 

            “Ok, Buffy you and I will check that out tonight. Maybe there’s some access to a sewer or something. It could be they are hiding there.” I’m trying to smooth things over between the two slayers.

 

            Buffy nods. “Good idea. Of course, they could have just been enjoying the beautiful scenery.”

 

            “I don’t think so. They are here for a purpose. They are going to want to finish the purpose, especially since by now I’m sure they know they have to deal with not one slayer, but two.” I reason. “We’ve got an advantage now though. Faith killed their leader. It will take sometime to get another vamp in place that’s worthy of awakening Acathla. It’s likely going to be an old vampire too. I don’t see Acathla taking kindly to being risen by anyone less then a century old.”

 

            “I still won’t feel safe having Dawnie back here until the entire gang is gone.” Buffy says.

 

            “I think Dawn is safer in LA for now too. The only major things we’ve had going on were the Mohra demons. They won’t be interested in Dawn.” I say

 

            “You killed a Mohra demon in Los Angeles?” Giles says in wonderment. “I’ve heard they are extremely rare. Highly paid and very effective assassins if I recall correctly. They have the ability to regenerate almost any wound, quite a fascinating species.”

 

            “Yeah, not so much with the fascinating when they were highly paid to kill me and Angel.” Buffy says.

 

            “Indeed?” Giles raises his eyebrows so high I think they are going to shoot right off his forehead.

 

            “We killed 6 of them, with Gunn and Wes’ help.” Buffy says.

 

            “I don’t recall how you kill them.” Giles starts looking through a book of demonology.

 

            “Big red jewel in the middle of their head, smash it and they poof, only not dust poof like vamps, more like big red light poof.” Buffy explains, if you can call it that.

 

            I lean over and whisper something to Buffy. She nods and smiles.

 

            “Giles, could I speak to you about something in the back, please?” I ask

 

            “Oh, well, of course.” He rises from the table, takes his glasses off and cleans them while walking to the store room in the shop. He turns and replaces his glasses.

 

            “I don’t know how much Buffy has told you about what’s happening in LA. If Buffy’s Mom were still alive I’d ask her, or if her father were actually in her life, as it is, you’re the only person I feel I need to discuss this with.” I pause and push my fingers through my hair. I know I’m doing badly at this, but I’m nervous. “See, a week or so ago we ran into the Mohra demons and because of some thing that had happened earlier I wanted to go see the Oracles, to see if there was reason these demons were being sent after Buffy and I. We found the Oracles and they put me through these trials, these tests to see if I was worthy. What happened doesn’t matter, but after I completed them to their satisfaction they gave me my soul, I mean they anchored it. I can’t lose it in a moment of happiness anymore.”

            I stop and take a deep breath. I have to keep myself from pacing the room. “I’m sorry; I’m not doing a very good job of this.”

 

            Giles looks at me a bit flabbergasted by what I’ve told him. “Well, I-uh- I imagine that makes things a bit easier for you and Buffy. I’m glad, happy for the two of you. She-we owe you so much for what you’ve done for her. I-Thank you.”

 

            “I want to marry her. In my day it was very important to get the parents blessing before a ceremony could take place. You are the closest Buffy has to a parent. I know there will be problems and we’ve got issues that most couples don’t face, like that fact that she will grow old and I won’t, or that I can’t give her children, but we’ve talked about that. She says this is what she wants. If she ever changed her mind about that and she wanted to leave me, I wouldn’t stop her. I don’t want anything for her but happiness.” I look up at him, desperate to see acceptance or approval in his eyes. “Rupert, I love her.” That is as simply as I can state it.

 

            He blinks. He has tears in his eyes. He holds his hand out to shake mine.  “Just make her happy. She may not-slayers don’t always live very long. She’s beaten the odds twice. Just make her happy.”

 

            “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to.” I vow. It’s a promise I’ve made in my heart more times then I can count. It’s a promise I’ve given up everything that mattered for.

 

*

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            Willow and Wesley were really happy when Angel and I told them we were getting married. I know they both had doubts, but they were nice enough not to voice them.  I felt like a normal girl telling them I was getting married. Willow got all teary and hugged me. Wesley got teary eyed to, but he tried to maintain the staunch English man exterior. Giles hugged me so tight I think I heard ribs creaking.

 

            We’re on our way to Sunny Rest right now. It would be nice to be able to wrap this thing up tonight. Then we could bring Dawn back and have the wedding. That’s just not my luck though.  Angel reaches up with his left hand opens the cemetery gate. I can see the moonlight glint off his silver claddagh ring. It’s the same one he was wearing the night he gave me mine. At least if Acathla sucks the world into hell, I know that with these rings, Angel and I are technically already married. There are just words left to say.

 

            “After we check out the crypt I want to stop and tell Mom about everything. I know she’s not there. I mean I remember her in Heaven, but still when I talk to her there, it feels more like I’m talking to her then if I just talk to air.”

 

            “Okay.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my ring.

 

            The inside of the Alpert mausoleum is dusty, but the dust on the floor is marked with footprints. There is a curve of dust free floor near a crypt. Angel shoves it to the side, following the path in the dust. Underneath the crypt there’s a grate.  He lifts it up and quietly sits it off to the side. He climbs down the ladder first and then lifts me down into the tunnel with him. That’s one of the things I love about Angel. He knows when to treat me like a real girl, one that needs help down sewer ladders and over fences, and he knows when to treat me like the slayer. He finds a good balance between the two.

            We’re in one of the electrical tunnels in Sunnydale that really has no use.  Pale yellow utilitarian fixtures shine a cone of light every 20 yards or so. Angel and I stick to the shadows as much as possible. We walk along way before we finally hear something. There is a tunnel that branches off and angles down. Voices drift up from there.

 

            “We’ve got to tell her.”

 

            “Why? We replace Louis, complete the ritual and she never has to know.”

 

            “Which one of us do you think she’s going to turn into a new pet if she finds out Louis got killed and we didn’t say anything?”

 

            “Once the ritual is complete she won’t care if Louis did it or not.”

 

            “I still say we have to tell her. Besides, now we’ve got two slayers to deal with instead of just one. She’s going to want to know Angelus’ slayer is here. It might change things.”

 

            “Angelus’ slayer isn’t worth anything anymore. She up and disappeared a few years ago. She’s washed up.”

 

            I clench my fists. I’d like to burst in there and show them just how washed up I am. Angel smiles and winks at me. He pulls me in closer to him.

 

            “We’ve got to tell her. She’ll send in reinforcements and start looking for another one who is worthy.”

 

            “Alright, you call her though and if she decides to visit herself, I’m taking a vacation until she leaves.”

 

            We hear footsteps and we quickly duck into another tunnel. Angel nods at me and I have a pretty good idea of what he has planned. The two vamps walk past our hiding spot. Angel reaches out and grabs one. I catch the other across the jaw with a roundhouse. I follow it up with a high snap kick.

 

            “Washed up? You know I’ve been called a lot of things in my life but I really don’t think that’s ever been one of them”

 

            I deliver a spinning kick to his head and then a jab to the kidneys. He snarls and rushes into me. I flip him over my shoulder and step back, giving him the chance to come at me again.

 

            “And another thing, his name is Angel and I’m his slayer, not Angelus’” I catch the vamp by his throat and shove him against the wall.

 

            “Buffy, think you could finish up there something soon. I’d like to talk to this one before I have to knock him unconscious.”

 

            “Sure, why didn’t you say something earlier?” I say flippantly as I shove a stake through my vamp’s heart. He turns to dust. I brush my hands off. Angel has the remaining vamp in a headlock.

 

            “Now, you might have guessed, Buffy is kind of upset about being called washed up. She’s going to ask you some questions. I’d answer them if I were you.” He tightens his hold around the vamps neck. He can’t actually cut his air off, because he doesn’t use any, but he can make it very uncomfortable.

 

            “Who’s behind this business with Acathla?” I demand.

 

            “No way I’m telling you, Slayer.” The vamp hisses.

 

            “Wrong answer.” I punch him hard in the nose. “One more time, who’s behind the Acathla business?”

 

            “Go ahead and kill me. If I tell you, she’ll do worse.”

 

            “See, that’s where we’ve got a misunderstanding. You think Angel and I are just going to kill you. That wasn’t really what I had in mind.” I take off the silver cross Angel gave me so long ago. I catch Angel’s eye. He forces the vamp to open his mouth. I shove the cross inside and Angel holds his mouth shut. Smoke begins to pour out from between his lips and I jerk the cross out. “I’m just getting started. I can keep this up all night. Who’s behind it?”

 

            The vamps words are slightly slurred when he speaks. I can only imagine the burns on the inside of his mouth and I don’t want to. Every time I do something like that I feel like a little bit of my humanity gets stripped away, but it comes with the whole destiny gig. 

 

            “Drusilla”

Chapter Twenty-Two

@--Buffy--@

 

 

            “We know who’s behind it now, let’s dig Acathla up ourselves, smash him to pieces and then deal with Drusilla’s minions when they get here.” My plan sounds perfectly reasonable to me. No Acathla, no portal to Hell, no one gets sucked in.

 

            We are back in the Magic Box holding a Scooby meeting to keep everyone abreast of the new information Angel and I found.

 

            “Really, that’s rather a good idea.” Wes says.

 

            “I spent a hundred years with Dru. She’s not thinking of this all on her own. There’s someone else behind it. Dru doesn’t have the attention span for this kind of venture. She’d think about doing it and then get distracted by the damn stars.” Angel argues.

 

            “Maybe your right, Angel, even if you are, what harm does it do to shatter Acathla beyond recognition?” I ask. Why does he always have to be the reasonable one with the reasonable plan that finds out all the answers before he rushes in.

 

            “We’ll never find out who’s behind it if we do that.” Angel explains again. He’s got the same tone people use with very young children and it irritates me.

 

            “You know what? I really don’t care who the hell is behind it. I want Acathla smashed into so many pieces that he can’t ever be awakened. I lost you to him once. I had to kill you and send you to hell. It almost killed me. I can’t do that again.” I’m yelling and I know I should keep my voice down, but I can’t help it. Why can’t he get it through his thick head I just want Acathla gone? I feel the tears gathering in my eyes and I don’t want to lose it in front of everyone. I run out of the shop, slamming the door behind me. I don’t know where I’m going. I just run.  When I finally stop I’m at the mansion on Crawford Street. My chest is heaving from running so far. I wrap my arms around myself and swallow my sobs. He’s coming after me, I knew he would. I feel him long before his arms wrap around my waist and pull me close. He holds me like that for a little while, letting me take comfort in him.

 

            “You know what the hardest part of sending you to hell was?” He doesn’t answer me and I know he’s waiting for me to continue, to get it all out. We’ve never really talked about this. He didn’t want to talk about things like that when he found me. “It was the way you looked at me. You didn’t accuse me, you didn’t hate me. With your last look you loved me, you trusted me. It haunted me for months. It still haunts me.”

 

            “Buffy, I didn’t know what was going on, but I know you and I knew there was a reason for what you did. The last thing I heard before going to Hell was you saying you loved me. I remembered that long after I forgot my own name. You were the only thing that kept me remotely sane in Hell.”

 

            “What was it like?” I ask.

 

            He sighs. At least he’s not going to avoid the question this time. “Buffy,” He pauses again. “There are different levels of Hell, for different degrees of evil. The Master once called Angelus the most evil creature he’d ever known. The worst level of Hell was reserved for him.”

 

            “But Angelus didn’t go to Hell, you did.” My voice is small and I am beginning to wonder if I really want to know this.

 

            “All the more fun for the demons down there.” He is trying to keep his voice calm so I don’t hear the pain in it, but I’ve known him to long. I love him to much.

 

            I start to apologize but there is no apology and I know that he wouldn’t have had me do it any different. There was no choice.  If my blood would have closed Acathla’s mouth I would have gladly jumped in the portal, just as I jumped into the portal to save Dawn’s life. Only Angel’s blood would close it. It was him or the world. I’m the slayer. I don’t have the luxury of choosing my love. I didn’t then and I don’t now.  That’s why I can’t sleep until Acathla is dust.

 

            “Hell is worse then you can imagine, Buffy. There aren’t words to describe the horrors to you and I wouldn’t want to give you those images even if there were.  We’re going to stop Drusilla. She won’t ever get a chance to raise Acathla. You won’t have to send me to Hell again, I promise. So why all the questions about it?”

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            “Because if I die, I want to know what to expect.” Her voice is soft and filled with doubt and hurt.

 

            I am taken completely speechless. How long has she thought this? I know I need to say something to her. I need to tell her that there is no way she will ever know Hell. I can’t. I can’t form the words. Rage floods over me and I don’t know what to do with it. There’s no one to direct it at. I tremble and fight for the right words to say.

 

            “Buffy, how can you think you will ever go to Hell? Who told you that you would go to Hell?” Give me a name I want to beg her, give me someone or something to kill. Whoever it was will pay for making her think for one second of her precious short life that she will spend an eternity in Hell.

 

            She shakes her head and I can hear tears hitch her breath. “God let me go. He didn’t have to. I think maybe I wasn’t good enough for Heaven, like it was a mistake I got there in the first place.”

 

            I turn her to face me. I place my finger under her chin and tilt her head up to look in my eyes. “Look at me. I don’t know why God let you come back. I won’t even pretend to know. Maybe it was just that it wasn’t your time yet. You died in Dawn’s place. You weren’t supposed to be there. I was allowed to come back from Hell because I still had things to do. Maybe you were allowed to come back from Heaven for the same reasons. I do know one thing though; you will never see the inside of Hell. God doesn’t let his angels down like that.”

 

            “Even the fallen ones?” She asks in that tiny little girl lost voice that breaks my heart.

 

            “Especially the fallen ones.” I answer.

 

            I wrap myself around her and hold her while the night slowly creeps toward the day. It is a long time before she speaks again.

 

            “I think I got to come back to have this with you. It was my reward.” She says.

 

            “It’s mine too.” I smile at her and we start the walk back to Willow’s house.

 

            “Besides, God probably got tired of me crying in Heaven because you weren’t there. I don’t think crying is allowed.”

 

            Willow is awake and brewing a pot of coffee when we walk in.

 

            “Morning. Everything okay?” She asks.

 

            “Yeah, we just got to talking, didn’t realize how close to sunrise we were pushing it.” Buffy says. She takes a deep breath. “The coffee smells good.”

 

            “Have some if you want. I’m going to get dressed and go into the Magic Box.” Willow says.

 

            “Could you talk to some of the men at Xander’s company, or have him do it. I’d like to go ahead and get some excavation equipment up at the Acathla site. I want to go ahead and dig it up. I don’t want to risk it falling into Drusilla’s hands just so we can find out who all the players are.” I say. Buffy smiles at me. We haven’t discussed this but if it helps her sleep better it’s worth it.

 

            “Sure. I’ll give them a call before I leave the house. They should be able to have it dug up before the day is over.” Willow says.

 

            “Good. Thank you. Have them put it in the courtyard of the mansion. I’ll call the caretaker and let him know Harris Construction will be bringing something by. Have them leave a couple of sledge hammers at the mansion also. We’re going to finish this tonight.”

 

            “Oooo, do I get to use one? I’m really good at the whole grounding bones to dust. I figure stone and bones are pretty much the same when you hit it with a sledge hammer.” Buffy says.

 

            “I’ll stand back and watch you.” I pull her to me and place a kiss on her lips. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in deeper. I hear Willow sneak out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. I tug Buffy closer, needing to remind her of the reasons she’s here and not in Heaven. She wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her upstairs.

 

*

 

            The insistent ringing of the phone wakes us up hours later. The sun is hanging low in the sky. I answer it, trying to erase the sleep from my voice. “Harris residence.”

 

            “Angel, I think you and Buffy need to come out here.” Willow sounds upset.

 

            “Willow, what’s wrong?” I ask. Buffy sits up beside me. I can smell the instant fear coming off of her in waves.

 

            “Acathla is gone.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

@--Buffy--@

 

           

            I thought I was done with the cravings. I thought I’d left all the traces of that life behind. I stand looking down into an empty pit and my skin starts to scream, my body begs and it pleads and it promises that a tiny bit of heroin will make this all go away.

 

            “We’ve inspected the area. They tunneled underneath Acathla and took him back out via the same tunnels. It appears that they were dug by an Urkhan demon. They are very rare, extremely passive creatures that live deep in the bowels of the earth much like giant worms. They can eat through rock.”

 

            “Why would a giant worm want Acathla?” Angel asks. I hear the patience in his voice wearing thin.

 

            “I wish I knew. There is no known record of Urkhan stealing any artifacts. They are not known to be terribly intelligent beings, nor are they aggressive. It’s interesting to note, I believe these tunnels were dug sometime ago. Acathla has been missing for at least two months, possibly longer.” Wes said.

 

            “So he was gone before we even had a heads up on this?” I say incredulously. “Before Willow put her alarm spell up?”

 

            “I’m fairly certain, yes.” Wesley adjusts his glasses. It’s never fun giving a slayer information she’s not going to like.

 

            “Why the hell would the Powers give Cordy a vision that we’re to late to prevent?” I ask.

 

            “I don’t know. It’s happened before. They’ve sent us visions of people who are already dead by the time we get there, or even before. It usually means there’s more coming.”

 

            “Cordy would call us if she had a vision though, right?” I look up at Angel.

           

            “Yes, she knows to call if she has any visions.” Wesley says.

 

            “Ok, so why are Drusilla’s minions still here?” I ask.

 

            “Perhaps she doesn’t realize Acathla has been taken?” Wes suggests.

 

            Angel is pacing near the pit. He’s got his brooding face on.

 

            “What are you thinking, Angel?” I ask.

 

            He shakes his head. “I’ve said from the beginning this isn’t like Dru. Maybe she’s not involved.”

 

            “Dawn,” I feel the horror wash over me. “Whoever has Acathla needs blood to wake him up. Dawn’s blood, oh God, we’ve got to go back to LA, now.”

 

           

*

 

            I don’t know how fast Angel drove, but it wasn’t fast enough. I had scratched bloody marks in my arms by the time we got to the Hyperion. My body was screaming at me to make this all go away. We ran into the lobby screaming for anyone to answer.

 

            “Dawn! Dawnie!” My shouts echo through the grand old hotel.

 

            “She’s not here.” Fred says quietly, walking down the stairs.

 

            “Xander and Cordy took her shopping?” God, please, please let her be running up a bill on Angel’s credit card, I pray silently.

 

            Fred’s eyes well with tears and I know she’s not shopping.

 

            “There were at least ten of them. They had stun guns.”

 

            I grab her by the arms and shake her. “Where did they take her?” My voice is hard and demanding.

 

            “I-I don’t know. I was upstairs. I hid.” Fred’s voice trembles.

 

            “You hid? They took my baby sister! Do you know what they are going to do with her?” I’m shaking Fred. Angel grabs my wrists.

 

            “Buffy, let her go. We wouldn’t know anything if she hadn’t hid.”

 

            I cover my face with my hands and begin pacing the lobby. I want to scream until I can’t scream anymore. I want to shoot something in my veins and make it go away. I want to kill whoever took my little sister.

 

            “Ok, Fred, try to think. What did they look like?” Angel’s voice is calming and patient and I want to scream at him for it.

 

            “They were human; at least I think they were human. They were dressed in all black. They came from the roof. We heard glass. Gunn yelled at me to stay in my room. I didn’t though; I peeked out through the banisters, after they’d gone down to the lobby. They had stun guns and they took everyone, Cordy and Gunn and Xander, and Dawn.”

 

            “They sound like professionals. They wanted Dawn alive, that’s good.” He looks at me as he says this. I can’t stop pacing.  “I think I have a good idea of who they are.  Buffy, come on. I’m going to see if I can track her. Fred, stay here with Wes. Willow and Giles will be here in a little while. Tell them what happened. Call me on my cell when they get here. Have Willow try a locator spell once she gets here.”

 

            Angel stops by the weapons cabinet and pulls several things out, handing me a stun gun of my own and a light weight battle axe. He grabs his favorite broadsword and a cross bow.

 

            We’re back in the GTX within minutes of our arrival. “Who are these bastards, Angel? Who took my little sister?” I demand him to tell me what he knows.

 

            “Wolfram and Hart, I think.” He says. He is concentrating on catching Dawn’s scent.

 

            “The law firm?” I look at him wide eyed.

 

            “You’ve heard of them?”

 

            “Yeah, Dad did some contract work with them, before we moved to Sunnydale. Why would a law firm want my little sister, or Acathla?” I ask.

 

            “They aren’t just a law firm. They are evil. Their clients consist of the lowest scum in this dimension and I’m pretty sure they aren’t just limited to this one.  They’ve been bothering me since I moved here. They tried to drive me insane; they tried to bring Angelus out. They’ve got the resources to hire or bully passive rock eating worms into working for them.”

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

 

            The Wolfram and Hart building loomed before us.

 

            “Buffy, put your seatbelt on and cover your head with your arms.” I glance over at her.

 

            “I take it we’re not going for subtle entrances?”

 

            “Not tonight.” I answer.

 

            I hit the gas. Buffy puts her head on her knees and covers it with her arms. I feel glass shatter and bite into my face. Tires squeal on marble flooring and the car skids right into the front desk. I grab Buffy from the seat and propel her forward into the emergency stairway. I kick through Lilah’s office door. I’ve got my game face on.

 

            “I’m guessing you’re responsible for the scene in the lobby.” Lilah says.

 

            “Good guess, Lilah. You’ve got something of mine. I want it back.” I growl.

 

            “Oh, please, you can drop the intimidating act. You locked me in a cellar with worse, remember.” Lilah walks around her desk and stands in front of Buffy and I. “So this is the Slayer. She’s not as big as I thought she’d be.”

 

            “Yeah, I hear that from everyone. They usually only say it once though.” Buffy glares at Lilah. I keep my grip on her wrist.

 

            “I want my people back, now.” I say.

 

            “I’m sorry; I really can’t arrange that, but thanks for stopping by.” Lilah says.

 

            I’m behind her with my hands on both sides of her skull before she can move. Preternatural speed is a plus sometimes. “Lilah, I get my people back, all of them or I will crush your skull between my hands and eat your brains for breakfast.”

 

            “Nice imagery, Angel, but this is more important then me. You can let go now.” One thing you have to say about Lilah, she keeps her cool. I put my hands down and step to the side.

 

            Buffy grabs her by the throat and slams her down to the desk. “Then they really won’t care if I kill you, and every single person I can get my hands on until I get my little sister back.”

 

            “Buffy, you might want to let her go.” I say.

 

            “I died for Dawn once already. I’m going to hell anyway. She is going to have a normal, long life if I have to kill every single person in this city to make that happen.” Buffy never breaks contact with Lilah, who is beginning to turn purple.

 

            “Buffy, look at me.”

 

            She doesn’t let go of Lilah, but she turns her head and looks over her shoulder. There are 6 men with long wooden spears pointed at my heart. She goes pale and I’m afraid she’s going to faint. She moves in slow motion, releasing Lilah and turning around.

 

            Lilah clears her throat and recovers remarkably well. “Now that you’re seeing things our way…”

Chapter Twenty-Four

            @--Buffy--@

 

 

            Angel stares hard at me. I know he’s got a plan. I’m not sure what it is yet. Lilah is talking but I’m focused on Angel. When we move it’s in perfect synch. The thrill of fighting beside him overtakes me. I remember how much I used to miss this when he went away. Angel drops to the floor and sweeps his feet behind him, taking out the three men behind him at once. At the same time, I kick one guy in the back of the knee and catch another with an elbow to the face. He drops his spear and howls, covering his broken nose with his hands. I catch the spear and use it like a staff, knocking another guy several feet into the air and across Lilah’s desk.

            Angel is working over his three guys with a series of punches and elbows to the face. He gets his three guys down. I knee the one I’m fighting with in the groin. He goes down.

 

            “Buffy! Come on!” He holds out a hand and I grab it. He pulls me tightly into his body, wrapping his duster around me and picking me literally off my feet. “Lilah has called more security; they’ll be here any minute. Hang on tight.” He runs head first for the big glass window, shattering it with his shoulder.

 

            I keep my eyes closed. It feels like we’re falling forever.  It feels like I’m jumping from the tower again. At least if I die this time it will be in Angel’s arms. Angel hits the ground first and I swear I can hear the crack of bones. The air is knocked completely out of me and I don’t remember anything hurting this much.

 

            “Get up!” He yells at me. We both roll to our feet. He has a firm grip on my wrist. He’s pulling us back into the ruined lobby of Wolfram and Hart. “Buffy, you’re going to have to drive. I broke a lot of ribs and I dislocated my shoulder.”

 

            We get in the Angelmobile and I throw it in reverse. It’s like driving a tank. Could he not have gone for one of those cute little Mini Coopers? The thought of Angel in a mini cooper makes me giggle. I back into the information desk and throw the car into drive. The wheels spin on the marble. The smell of burning rubber is nauseating. People everywhere are screaming. We shoot out of the lobby and onto the road. Angel keeps looking over his shoulder to make sure they aren’t giving chase. Several blocks from the law firm he finally relaxes.

 

            “Angel, are you okay?” I ask.

 

            “I’m fine. It’s not the first time I jumped out the window there. The last time was from the top floor. Are you okay? That was a long fall.” He’s having a hard time talking. He’s definitely got broken ribs, quite possibly other broken parts.

 

            “Yeah, I think I sprained my ankle somehow and everything hurts, but it was nice of you to cushion my fall with your body.” I look over him. I’m worried. I make really lame jokes when I’m worried.

 

            “That was sort of the idea.” He says painfully and manages a small grin.

 

            “It was a dumb idea! Did I mention that or was I too caught up in the Thank God we’re not dead aspect of things?”

 

            “Buffy, if we hadn’t have gotten out of there they would have locked us up somewhere or killed us and then we’d be no good to Dawn.” He tries to get me to see the reason behind our very unreasonable actions.

 

            “Well, there is that.” I say quietly. I pull the Angelmobile up to the hotel and run over the curb. I help him out of the car, we’re both in pretty bad shape and we limp-struggle for the front door. Giles opens it and I want to pass out and cry. I know that reaction doesn’t make sense but there it is.

 

            “Dear Lord, what happened?” He asks, slipping an arm under Angel and helping me get him to the couch. Fred runs for the first aid kit.

 

            “Buffy!” Willow exclaims, looking up from her research.

 

            “Good Lord,” Wes says disappearing into the kitchen. I’m pretty sure he’s getting Angel some blood. He’s seen him hurt often enough to know that’s really what he needs to heal.

 

            “We jumped out of a window from the twentieth floor.” I say, sitting down on the round couch beside Angel.

 

            “Buffy, now is really not the time for exaggerating.” Giles says as he examines the cuts from glass on my arms.

 

            “She’s not exaggerating.” Angel manages to get out.

 

            “Oh my,” Giles breathes. Fred kneels between Angel and me with the first aid kit.

 

            “Giles, I dislocated my shoulder when we landed. Normally I’d do this myself but I’m pretty sure I broke all the ribs on my left side.”

 

            “Oh, of course.”

 

            There is a loud crack as Angel’s shoulder slips back into place. He bites off a curse. The entire scene is just beginning to catch up with me. Angel could have been staked if there had been one wrong move on my part or his. I fight back the tears that threaten to spill out.

 

            Fred is wrapping my ankle. I look over at Angel. He looks awful, like he’s in pain which is not an expression I’m used to seeing on his face. I get the anti-bacterial cream out of the first aid kit and dab at the cuts on his face.

 

            “Buffy, I’m fine. Vampires don’t really get infections.” He says indicating the cream.

 

            “And your point?” I snap, biting back tears.

 

            He looks into my eyes and nods slightly. “No point. Band aids are in the first aid kit.”

 

            Most of the cuts are shallow and tiny, already scabbing over but there is one on his cheek that is at least two inches long and cut almost to the cheekbone. I put a lot of cream on it and carefully smooth a band aid on it. I kiss the spot very lightly.

 

            “There, all better.” My voice is shaky and hardly above a whisper. He puts one hand on the back of my neck and pulls me closer for a gentle soft kiss.

 

            “I’m going to be fine, Buffy. Nothing a little blood and some sleep won’t cure.”  His voice is tender and for a moment the world fades away but it’s only a moment and then the world snaps back into place. Wesley appears from the kitchen with a warm mug of blood. He holds it out to Angel.

           

            “Thanks Wes. Wolfram and Hart has them. Lilah didn’t even try to deny it. Wes, Giles look at some astrological charts. See if there’s a night that’s going to be better for opening a portal to Hell then any other. They won’t wait very long though.” Angel says.

 

            “Willow, we need a locator spell, maybe an amulet or charm that will glow when we get close to Dawn. We know Wolfram and Hart have her, but we don’t where.” I start issuing my own orders.

 

            Angel nods in agreement. He drains the mug of blood and sits it on the floor beside the couch “Buffy and I both need some sleep. Let us know if you find anything at all.”

 

            We hobble-limp up the stairs and collapse on the bed inside the sanctity of our own room. It’s amazing how good your own bed feels after a trip. I don’t think I even finished the thought before I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-five

 

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I leave Buffy sleeping in bed. She needs the rest more then I do. I shower and change quietly and slip downstairs. Everything is sore and tender but I’ll live, even the long cut Buffy insisted on putting a band aid on is gone.

 

            Wes, Willow, Giles and Fred are already hard at work downstairs, trying to come up with anything that will help.

 

            “Morning, Angel. Are you feeling better?” Willow asks with a bright smile on her face.

 

            “Much, thank you. I’m hoping your good mood means you have some information for me?” I take a bag of blood out of the refrigerator, drain it into a mug and put it in the microwave.

 

            “Some, first of all,” she holds up a rather innocent looking, cheap pendant necklace. “I had to use what I could find, but this should glow kind of a reddish light when you get close to Dawn. I’ll let Wes and Giles tell you their news. I don’t wanna be a news hog.”

 

            Wesley frowns and looks down at his book. “I’m not terribly sure the news is good, but it’s more then we had. There is a particular alignment of stars in the Andromeda galaxy. The alignment only happens once every five hundred and eighty four years. It will allow the portal to stay open longer without collapsing on itself. And it happens tonight.”

 

            “That doesn’t give us much time.” I grumble.

 

            “I think that was rather the idea.’ Wesley says.

 

            Giles clears his throat. “I think it might be rather beneficial to bring in another slayer. I can have Faith here in a matter of hours.”

 

            I nod. “I don’t know how Buffy will feel about it, but I think it’s a good idea.”

 

            “Buffy will feel great about anything that gets Dawn back.”

 

            I look up. Buffy is coming down the stairs in her flannel cow print pajamas.

 

            “Faith and I have had our problems in the past, but that’s water over the bridge, under the bridge, I don’t know but there’s water and a bridge. She’s a good slayer. She can help us get Dawn back.” She curls up on the couch next to me.

 

            “Very well then, I’ll be back as soon as possible.” Giles stands up and walks out to his car.

 

            “So, what’s the plan?” Buffy asks.

 

            No one says anything.

 

            “We do have a plan, right?” Buffy looks to me for answers. I wish I had them for her.

 

            “I’m working on one. Willow made a charm. It will glow when we get near Dawn.” I try to sound optimistic.

 

            “That doesn’t get her out of Wolfram and Hart’s hands.”

 

            “No, but we will get her. I promise you that, Buffy.” I kiss the palm of her hand and look into her eyes. She nods, complete trust in her eyes.

 

            “I assume they want to use Dawn to open Acathla, like Glory did.” Buffy says.

 

            Wesley nods. “Yes. It the same ritual Angelus used. They use Dawn’s blood to open him, and only Dawn’s blood will close the portal once it has opened.”

 

            “Why does Wolfram and Hart want to suck the world into hell?” Buffy asks.

 

            “I don’t really think they intend to let it go that far. Acathla is the only known portal to that dimension of hell. I think they want to bring something, or someone through. After they have what they want, they’ll close the portal.” Wesley explains.

 

            Buffy bites her bottom lip and fights the tears that spring to her eyes. “But that means sending Dawnie to Hell.”

 

            The silence is deafening.

 

            Buffy gets up and runs up the stairs. I can hear the sobs that she’s fighting to hold back. I stand up and follow her.

           

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            Angel shuts the door quietly behind him. I’m lying on the bed crying. He picks me up and folds me in his arms.

 

            “Angel, we have to save her. She’s my little sister. I can’t watch her die. She’s a part of me, the monks made her out of me, my soul, my blood. She supposed to have all the things I can’t ever have, she has to graduate high school and college. She has to get married to someone she loves as much as I love you. She has to have the house with the picket fence and 2.3 kids. She has to grow old with the love of her life. Somehow, if she gets all that, it’s like I get it too.” I can hardly talk between my sobs and I know I’m not making any sense. “I died so she could have those things. That has to mean something.”

 

            “We will save her, Buffy. I won’t let Dawnie die. I promise.”

 

            I sob in his arms until I’m completely dry. I wipe at my face and sit up. “We’ve got to get Xander back for Willow and I know they have Cordy and Gunn too.”

 

            “We’ll get them. Now rest. You’re going to need it. I’ll wake you up when Faith and Giles get here.” Angel orders.

 

            I can only nod and lay down in the coolness of our bed. He tucks the blankets around me and places a kiss on my forehead.

 

            “I expect you to make it out of this too. I’m going to marry, Buffy Summers.” He smiles at me.

 

            “That goes double for you,” I tell him, feeling the tears collect in my eyes again.

 

            @--Dawn--@

 

            I don’t know where I am. It looks like a hotel suite, but the windows are all blacked out, so I don’t even know what time of day it is. There are two thugs in suits here with me. They have stun guns attached to their belt. I tried to get out earlier when they brought me food. That’s how I know about the stun guns. I don’t even know if they can talk. I’ve asked over and over where Xander, Cordy or Gunn are. They never answer me. In fact, no one has really come to talk to me.  I don’t even know why they want me.

 

            I’m sitting on the couch watching Passions when the door opens. I can see there are two more thugs outside the door.  A pretty woman dressed in a black suit walks in. Her neck is covered with black and blue marks. She smiles at me, like she has nothing to do with the kidnapping.

 

            “Hello, Dawn. I’m Lilah.” She sticks her hand out to shake mine. I give her a dirty look and turn my attention back to the TV.

 

            “Well, I can see manners weren’t a priority in the Summers’ household. Come on, get up. It’s time for a bath and I’ve got fresh clothes for you.”

 

            “I don’t want anything from you. Let me go before my sister finds out you’ve got me.” I glare at Lilah.

 

            “Oh, the slayer, she already knows.” Lilah sits down on the edge of a chair.

 

            “I figured. I like your necklace.” I smirk at her.

 

            Lilah clears her throat and rubs a hand across her neck. “We don’t have a lot time. Ritual bath and new clothes get up or I’ll have to drug you and we don’t really want that, do we?”

 

            I shrug and maintain a sullen look at the TV. “I told you, I don’t want anything from you.”

 

            “That’s not the point, Dawn. We want something from you.” Lilah stands up and puts her hand in her pocket. I’m on my feet immediately, backing away from her.

 

            “Buffy killed a Goddess last time to save me. You think a bunch of lawyers are going to stop her this time?” I scream at her.

 

            “See that’s the problem with society today, everyone underestimates lawyers. Never underestimate an education Dawn. It’s so important. Of course you won’t actually live to get one.” Lilah steps closer to me.

 

            I kick her in the shin.

 

            “Little bitch.” She shrieks.

 

            I’m grabbed from behind by thug # 1 and thug # 2.  I kick at Lilah when she comes closer to me. I scream as loud as I can, hoping someone will hear me. I get electrocuted in the side by a stun gun. I kind of go limp. Lilah slides a needle into my skin and everything goes very black.

 

           

Chapter Twenty-Six

A/N There is a slight tiny spoiler for Ats Season 5 the Hellbound episode (5X4) You’ll recognize it you’ve seen it. If you haven’t I don’t think it will ruin anything for you. Short chapter, I know I’m expecting the next couple to be particularly long.

 

Chapter 26-Rituals

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I don’t sleep for very long. Nightmares keep waking me up. I get up and take a shower. I’m still sore from the night before. I let the steam work its way into my bones and loosen everything up. I leave my hair long and loose. I know it gives the enemy a handhold, but somehow I feel better going to a big battle with pretty hair. Silly, I know.

 

            I put on what I affectionately call my armor, dark red leather pants, a black sleeveless shirt and black boots with big chunky heels. I’m walking down the stairs when Faith and Giles come in.

 

            “Hey, B, you’re looking good. Ready to do this thing?” Faith asks by way of greeting.

 

            I nod. “What’s the plan Angel? Do we know where they are going to open the portal?”

 

            “Wes has found some information. I’ll let him tell you.” Angel deferred to Wes.

 

            “I believe they will open it on Wolfram and Hart grounds. It’s safe and it’s the perfect place. The magical energies there are astounding, second only to a Hellmouth. Wolfram and Hart is built on deconsecrated consecrated ground.”

 

            “Splainy, please.” I say.

 

            “When the LA branch was built, their seers recommended a site where there was already a Spanish mission. They couldn’t very well build an evil building on holy ground so they had to deconsecrate it. They sacrificed a man named Matthias Pavayne. In his time he was known as ‘The Reaper’. He was a doctor. He performed unnecessary surgeries on his patients, the sort of surgeries that kill people.” Wes explained.

 

            “So the law firm is built on the blood of psycho?” I say.

 

            “Precisely.”

 

            “This just gets better and better.” I grumble.

 

            We are interrupted by Lorne coming into the hotel, with a contingent of demons behind him.

 

            “Angelcakes, I’ve brought your army.”

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            “Ok, we’ve only got one shot at this. We’ve got a good idea from the blueprints Willow found, but we don’t know exactly where this ceremony is going to take place. I need you all to give us as much time as possible. Here’s the plan.” I stood before the demons Lorne had gathered and gave them a summary of what I hoped we would be able to pull off.

 

            I don’t know where Lorne found them all on such a short notice but there were at least 40 demons of all different sizes and varieties. I had him be sure to include several vampires so that the alarms in the building would already be set off when I walked in. I didn’t trust any of them as far as I could throw them, which actually in same cases was pretty far, but they were all I had and I wasn’t going to break my promise to Buffy. I would save her sister.

 

            I left the army in the lobby and motioned to Buffy, Wes, Giles, Faith and Willow. We went into Wes’ office and shut the door.

 

            “Okay, you’ve all heard the plan. What do you think?’ I asked.

 

            “It’s a good plan. I wish I knew more about where we were going, but it’s the best shot we’re going to get on such short notice.” Buffy said. A kind of calm acceptance had come into her voice. I knew she had pushed Buffy back and what stood before me was all slayer.

 

            “Remember, we want Xander, Gunn and Cordy back safe also, but we’ve got to prevent the opening of the portal first. If that portal opens, the chances are a lot higher that some of us aren’t going to make it out of this alive and that’s not acceptable.” I meet Buffy’s eyes when I say that. She turns her head and looks down at the ground.

 

            “Is everyone clear on that?” I rest my eyes on every person in the office briefly. They all nod. “Okay, let’s go then.”

 

 

            @--Dawn--@

 

            I open my eyes and everything around me is fuzzy. I move to rub my eyes, hoping that will clear the picture up a little bit. I can’t move my arm. I look to the side and down I’m bound by the wrists and ankles to some sort of alter and boy does this seem familiar.

 

            I’m in a really huge cavern type room. The floor is carved with runes. There are gray, wrinkled monk demons chanting over a tall stone statue of a demon. Lilah is standing next me.

 

            “Dawn, I really was hoping you’d wake up for this part. Of course those guys have been chanting in Latin long enough for even Acathla over there to wake up. We’re getting close now though. It’s exciting really, I’ve never been to a ritual that opened up a portal.” Lilah chatters as if this is the most normal setting in the world.

 

            “Do you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?” I snap.

 

            Lilah smiles and it’s eerie. “You’ve been to a portal opening before though, as I recall. Sneaky little slayer figured out how to save you though, lucky for us. It’s such a shame they had to bring her back. Although, when it first happened, we had hoped she’d release Angelus for us. We hadn’t counted on Angel’s nobility and determinedness to hold onto that pesky soul.”

 

            “She’s going to save me this time, you know.”

 

            “She’s probably going to try. You know she and Angel broke in here last night. They really couldn’t accomplish anything, other then smashing some doors and windows. I’ve always wondered why everything has to be so violent with Angel and Slayers.

 

            The demon monks had finished chanting and one was now walking toward me.

 

            Lilah glanced at her watch. “And here we are, ready to begin, right on time.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

            @--Dawn--@

 

            I scream and try to bite the monks when they got near. It doesn’t really do any good. They unbind me and drag me over to the demon statue. One of them pulls out a dagger and slices it across my palm. Its totally unreal the way the blood just wells up. It hurts, a lot. You’d think I’d get used to being sliced and used as key.

 

            I am trying not to cry. I remember the way Buffy was so brave when she jumped into that portal to save me. She didn’t cry. I want to be brave like that. I’m not. I start crying when they slap my bleeding palm on the statue’s chest.

 

            They drag me back to the alter. The rope things automatically wind around my ankles and my wrists, binding me tightly. My palm is dripping blood onto my bare feet. Why do these rituals always require bare feet? At least I could die in a really cool pair of shoes.

 

            “Bring in the food. Faelghahor is going to want to eat when he arrives.” Lilah says

 

            My cries get a lot weepier when they drag in Xander, Cordy and Gunn. They are all chained together. The monks attach the chain to a couple of pillars.

 

            “Dawnster, you okay?” Xander yells. His voice is really weak and he sounds like he is hurting.

 

            “Yeah, I’m not liking being a key though.” I yell back.

 

            “Yeah, I’m not enjoying the being food aspect of this whole thing either.” Xander yells. “I think maybe it’s the Twinkie’s revenge.”

 

            I smile a little in spite of the situation. “Mom always said you are what you eat.”

 

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            We watch from across the street as Lorne’s demon army storms the front of Wolfram and Hart. We’re a small group, Wesley, Giles, Willow, Faith, Buffy and I. There are no other people I’d rather go to battle with.

 

            We watch as Wolfram and Hart’s security collide with the demons. That’s our cue. We sneak across the street and toward the back of the building. I smash the window near the corner and we crawl into an office. It’s empty. I had hoped it would be. We can hear the battle going on in the front lobby.

 

            We use Willow’s blueprints to locate the service stairs and walk down into the basements of Wolfram and Hart. Buffy squeezes my fingers and holds up the charm. It’s glowing a very faint pink. At least we know we’re on the right track.

 

            Wes leads us through the maze of hallways in the sub basements. There was only one room on the blueprint that was big enough to hold a portal, a key and whatever they wanted to bring through the portal. We’re headed to it right now. Willow’s charm is glowing a deep red. Wes stops in front of a door and nods. I lace my fingers with Buffy’s. I pull her close to me and kiss her. I try to pour every bit of my love for her into that kiss. If the portal is open I want her to remember all the reasons she has for staying here with me.

 

            @--Dawn--@

 

            The statue has started rumbling. I can see its mouth is beginning to open into a glowing orange portal. It doesn’t look anything like the one Glory used me to open. I always just assumed all portals look like. This one is opening up a little slower then Glory’s portal, but just like her portal things start walking, crawling, flying and oozing out of it.

 

            They must have been told the rules though, because no one goes after me. I’m left to watch and hear, as Gunn, Cordy and Xander are being munched on by the denizens of Hell. I can’t even see through my tears, and I’m glad. I wish I couldn’t hear.

 

            “Leave the Seer for Faelghahor, you idiots!” Lilah screams. It takes me a minute to realize she’s talking about Cordy.

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            We bust through the door, literally, when we hear the screaming start.

 

            Oh God

 

            We’re too late, we’re too late. Oh God, we’re too late. Acathla’s mouth is open and all I can see in my mind is Angel. I tell him I love him. I kiss him. I ask him to close his eyes and he does, so trustingly. I pull my sword back and run it all the way through him. His eyes fly open and he looks to me in confusion. He holds out a hand and the confusion is replaced with love and trust. His last word before Hell swallows him whole is “Buffy,”

 

            I don’t realize I’m on my knees until Faith jerks me up. Her hand is like a vice on my bicep and the pain shakes me awake.

 

            “Move your ass, B.” She shoves a sword in my hand and pushes me toward a group of demons.

 

            I push the emotion of seeing my little sister bound to an alter to the back. I push the image of sending Angel to hell back. I can’t afford that now. I have to be the slayer. It’s the work I do. My sword slices cleanly through the head of a hell hound. I see Faith out of the corner my eyes. She’s a blur of black leather and shining steel. She’s laughing her head off.

 

            “Yo! B! I don’t know what it is about you, but we just don’t have these good times on the Hellmouth anymore. It’s a vamp here, a vamp there occasionally something slimy.”

 

            “Glad you’re entertained, Faith!” I yell back at her.

 

            Angel is in game face, ripping hellhounds and other unidentifiable things to pieces with his bare hands. He eerily reminds me of the way he was when he first came back from Hell. I suppose he fought all these things the hundred years or so he was down there, the hundred years that I sent him there for. I push that out of my mind. There’s no time, not now. I can break down in his arms once the fight is over.

 

            I fight my way through a pack of  Harbringers, the kind that I fought the night Angel decided to kill himself, and the Powers intervened. I can hear screaming nearby. It sounds like Cordy. If she can scream, she’s still alive I reason. I fight my way through the demons, slaughtering as I go, until I get to Cordy. In all my years of being a slayer I have never thrown up, no matter how gooey or nasty things got.  I have to support myself against the pillar Cordy and the remains of Gunn and Xander are chained to while I puke my guts out. Everything in me starts screaming and I want nothing more then to fall down and cry until there’s nothing left. Xander, the heart of the Scooby’s, he’s gone. And Gunn, Oh God, poor Fred.

 

            A Vahrall demon picks me up over his head and throws me across the room. I land in a heap against a rock wall. My head strikes a rock hard and I fight total blackout. If I don’t get off my ass I’m going to lose Dawn, Angel, Giles, and everything else I’ve ever cared about in this world. The portal is still spewing out demons and I know what I have to do.

 

            My eyes find Dawn across the room. The demons are avoiding the alter and Dawn entirely. Lilah stands near her holding an ornate ceremonial dagger, ready to kill her as soon as the big bad comes out of the portal. The first thing I’ve got to do is get to her.

 

            @--Angel--@

 

            I see Buffy fighting her way through the hordes of demons. She’s beautiful to watch in battle. She reaches a point where there’s nothing left but the Slayer. She doesn’t think about what she’s doing, she just acts with a deadly instinct. She’s a deadly weapon, like a perfectly crafted, balanced sword. I can see where she’s headed. I can hear her plan, almost as if she told me herself. I’ve known her for so long, my entire life it seems like. I can almost read her mind. My soul screams in anguish at what it’s mate is about to do.

 

            I leap into the air, fighting my way over the demons.  The battle is wearing everyone thin. Willow looks pale as she continues to wield her magic from near the doorway, trying to close the portal. Giles and Wesley stand in front her, fighting off the demons that would break her concentration. Wesley has a large bloodstain on his shirt, radiating from a wound either in his side, or his stomach. Giles’ face is covered in blood. They are not slowing down. They know if they do, we are all dead.

           

            And it’s all for the love of tiny speck of a blond girl. The only thing I have ever loved in my entire life, the only thing pure in my entire life. She was my savior, my redemption, when I needed her most. I will be hers now.

 

            Buffy is caught in a pack of Vahrall demons. She’s cutting them down, but they should keep her away long enough. I reach Lilah first. She’s a bug in the scheme of these things. She’s not worth taking the time to kill, so I don’t, take time. I put my hands on her head and I twist. Her neck snaps and she falls at my feet. I jump over her corpse and go to Dawn.

 

            She’s crying. “Angel, do it, kill me. Everyone is going to die here because of me. You can stop it. Buffy won’t. It’s okay. This is what I was meant for. I’m not real, Angel. I’m just a key, use me.”

 

 

-“Angel, we have to save her. She’s my little sister. I can’t watch her die. She’s a part of me, the monks made her out of me, my soul, my blood. She supposed to have all the things I can’t ever have, she has to graduate high school and college. She has to get married to someone she loves as much as I love you. She has to have the house with the picket fence and 2.3 kids. She has to grow old with the love of her life. Somehow, if she gets all that, it’s like I get it too.” -

 

 

            “Shhh, I’m going to fix it Dawnie, just give me a second.” I turn and skewer a hellhound the bounds toward me. I can’t kill Dawn, Buffy would never forgive me. Willow has been trying to close the portal with magic, but it’s still growing. There’s got to be a way to close it without killing Buffy or Dawn.

 

            Buffy is getting closer to the portal. She locks eyes with me and fear turns my insides to ice. I can’t lose her again and that’s exactly what she has in mind.

 

-“She’s a part of me, the monks made her out of me, my soul, my blood.”-

 

            That’s it, that’s how I close it. I rip the binds around Dawn’s wrists and ankles free. “Listen to me, Dawnie, there’s not much time. Tell your sister I love her. I will love her, always. Tell her I’m waiting for her.”

 

            “Angel?” Dawn says.

 

            I balk. She sounds like Buffy. That’s all the more reason I have to do this.

 

            “Dawnie, do you trust me?” I ask, looking into her blue eyes.

 

            Dawn nods.

 

            “Close your eyes,”

 

            My fangs sink into her neck. I don’t take much. I won’t need much. Three long drinks and her blood is still in my mouth when I dive through the portal. The last thing I hear is Buffy, my Buffy screaming

 

            “ANGEL!”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

           

            I lay in our bed. The sheets smell like him. I sleep all day and most of the night. I get to dream of him that way. I know Fred is mourning Gunn and Willow, Xander. Dawn is mourning everyone. I can’t get past my own pain to care. He’s gone, he left me and I don’t know how I’m supposed to live without him. I can’t breathe. My chest is too tight. We came so close to having everything I ever wanted.

 

            Giles comes in twice a day and leaves me a tray with food. He talks to me, but I don’t hear him. Willow comes in too. She cries and tries to get me to talk about Xander, or Angel or anything at all. I just stare into space.  I can see Angel diving into the portal, Dawn’s blood, Summers’ blood running through his veins.

 

            I don’t know long it’s been. Did I mention that I can’t remember how time works? It doesn’t really matter anyhow; I’ve got to spend the rest of my life without him so days, weeks, months and years aren’t important.

 

            Giles walks in. He doesn’t have the tray of food with him. That’s okay. I won’t eat it anyway. He pulls open the heavy black drapes across the windows. I duck under the blankets as the harsh, bright light hits my eyes. He strips the blankets off the bed and leaves me no where to hide.

 

            “Buffy, you are going to get up and take a shower and get dressed. Then you are going to come downstairs and have lunch with us.”

 

            “Fuck off, Giles.” I spit.  I’ve never talked to him that, I hope it will make him leave.

 

            “Using foul language won’t get rid of me, Buffy. I’ve used plenty of it in my day. There is a 17 year old girl down there that needs you. Angel went back to Hell to save her, for you. Do you think he’d be happy with the way you are belittling his sacrifice?”

 

            I sit up, anger taking over me for the first time. “You don’t know anything! You hated Angel! I love him more then I will love anything else in this world or the next! He saved me! He made it okay that Willow ripped me out of Heaven! Who is going to make it okay now that he’s in Hell again! And that it’s all my fault, mine! Do you know what they did to him the first time he was there? He wouldn’t tell me it was so bad. Now he’s going to spend an eternity down there, with his soul intact. They have fun with him, Giles.”

 

            I break down into great, heaving sobs. Giles sits down on the bed next to me and puts his arms around me. Patting me awkwardly at first and then just holding me.

 

*

 

            After the dam broke, I started at least making a show of living again. I got up most mornings. I took showers and got dressed. I pushed food around on my plate so that no one would notice I hadn’t really eaten. I didn’t have an appetite anymore; everything was ash in my mouth.

           

            Dawn is doing good. Willow, Wesley and Fred are home schooling her. Giles and Faith went back to Sunnydale, but they come back to the Hyperion every weekend, as long as there isn’t an apocalypse in the making. Everything is much more serious these days without Xander to crack the jokes. There’s also a lot less junk food now.

 

            I walked in on Willow the other day.  She was in Angel and my room; she had pulled the sheets off the bed. I screamed at her and then lovingly remade the bed with the same sheets, the sheets Angel had slept on.

 

            I won’t let Wesley throw the blood out of the fridge, even though I know it’s going to go bad.  I won’t let them take his voice off the answering machine. I sneak down there in the middle of the night and listen to it. I don’t want to ever forget what he sounds like, what he looks like or what he smells like and I’m so afraid I will.

 

            We’re still doing Angel Investigations. I’m still slaying. I don’t know what else to do and it’s a way to keep Angel alive. Wes told me about Angel’s shanshu today, the one he never got on account of going to Hell, again. I won’t let myself think about that now. If I do I’ll break down and Dawnie is just beginning to smile again. I think I heard her laugh the other day.

 

 

*

 

            It’s been 6 months. Dawn got her high school diploma in the mail today. She aced the tests. Willow is prepping her for SATS now. She wants to study art.  I’m so proud of her. She’s doing all the things I wanted her to do.

 

            I’m okay, as okay as someone can be when they are dead inside. I slay, I talk to Dawn. We still have our Monday Movies and Pizza night. It was really hard to get through at first. Every time someone mentioned our Monday Movie I would bust into tears, thinking about Cordy calling it Monday Make Out session. Cordy moved away, New York I think. Apparently the Powers decided if Angel wasn’t there she didn’t need to get visions.

 

            I brood a lot. I’m trying to perfect it the way Angel had. I read his books. I wear his clothes. I even put on his cologne. I know I smell more like him, then me. I don’t care. I’m doing the best I can. It’s got to be enough, because there’s nothing else left. Wesley tells me about all the years I wasn’t here. It’s nice to hear stories. I tell him about the Sunnydale years. We talk a lot about Xander and Gunn too.  It hurts and we cry but it’s good too. It’s a way of remembering, making sure no one ever forgets.

 

*

 

            Dawn is going to college at UCLA. She wanted to be close to all of us. We’re so much closer now, all of us, then we ever were before. She lives at the hotel still. We’re all making it. I’m lucky, Angel left some money. In his will, he left everything to me, his will that dated July 15, 1999, two days after he left me in Sunnydale. 

 

            Its Thanksgiving weekend and I really don’t want to be here. I want to spend this day of Thanks locked in the room I shared with Angel and remember. Dawn and Willow insist.

 

            “Will, don’t you remember the indigenous people who died?” I argue, trying to remind her of that Thanksgiving the Indian spirits rose and Angel came to my rescue.

 

            “I do. It’s not about Indians. It’s about being together, Buffy.” Willow says. There is a tremor in her voice I can not tell no.

 

            I nod. “Okay,” I agree reluctantly. I still don’t want to be here, but I will, for them. Everything I do these days is for them, because if it were left to me I’d curl up in our room and die, so that I could go be with him. He promised to wait for me. I know he will. Sometimes the urge to run to him, where ever he is, even if it’s Hell, is so strong I have to hang onto something until it passes.

 

            The night before the Thanksgiving togetherness, I’m sitting in our room reading a book of Byron’s poetry. He used to love to read Byron to me and tell me about the nights he spent with Lord Byron. I’m wrapped in one of his sweaters. I have just taken a shower and used his hair gel and sprayed his cologne on me. There’s something missing to the smell. It’s the smell of Angel, completely unique to him. I can never recreate that smell, no matter how many times I try.

 

            There’s a crash in the lobby. I pick up the stake that is always close to me. And creep down the stairs barefoot. I really hope it’s nothing terribly nasty. I’m not in the slaying mood.

 

            The moon is full. It’s shining through the frosted glass panes of the front doors. There are soft lights on in the lobby. I can see in the semi darkness there’s something on the floor. My throat tightens and my first thought is Dawn.

 

            “Dawnie?” I whisper and creep closer.

 

            I can’t breathe. The room tilts and I struggle to stay upright. I only partially succeed. I fall to my hands and knees and crawl over to the form on the floor.

 

            “Angel?”

 

            He’s lying naked on the stone floor. There is a scorch mark around his entire frame, just like when he returned to the mansion. I carefully, slowly reach out and touch his shoulder. He groans and turns partially on his back. He coughs and his eyes open just a slit.

 

            “Buffy,”

 

            He says it like he expected me to be there and yet he’s still unprepared. I pull him into my arms sobbing silently. He hugs me so tightly I’m pretty sure he cracked one of my ribs, but I don’t care. I wouldn’t ask him to let go for the world. I tilt my head back so I can look at him.

 

            “Angel, how-I don’t care. I don’t care. You’re here.” He kisses my hair and pulls me against his bare chest. I stop breathing for the second time that day.

 

-Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump-

 

            “Angel?” I look up at him, afraid to hope.

 

            He’s overcome with tears. They fall down his beautiful face. I kiss them away. His skin is warm. He’s breathing in and out.

 

            I have so much to be thankful for.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

Disclaimer: My secret is out! I’m Joss! Yeah right. I’m not Robert Frost either, the rightful owner to the poem The Road Less Traveled.

 

 

            -Angel-

 

            I’m sitting out on the balcony in our room waiting for the sun to rise. It will be my first sunrise in over 250 years. The French doors behind me open and Buffy is there, balancing a tray full of more food then both of us could eat. I am still in wonder that I am here, that she is here and that I am human.

            She sets the tray down and sits in my lap. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I grabbed a little of everything.”

 

            My eyes alight on chocolate bars. I remember chocolate from our Day that Wasn’t. I hastily unwrap one and stick a square of the dark creamy chocolate in my mouth. I laugh. I can’t help it. It bubbles up inside of me and comes spilling out like champagne.

           

            “I love chocolate,” I say with my mouth full of it.

 

            Buffy giggles at me. “I remember. I brought peanut butter too, crunchy.”

 

            I bite into an apple next and sigh in bliss. I used to love apples.

 

            “Mmm, I love food.” I say.

 

            Buffy smiles at me. “You came on the best day then. Willow has been cooking for two days. Normally we’d have OJ and some sort of sugary cereal Dawn likes, probably a carton of bad milk. Will has really gone crazy with the food thing though.”

 

            I look at her slightly confused but every thought is forgotten because the sun crests the horizon a brilliant red pink.  I took so much for granted when I was human before. I don’t think that I ever saw the sun rise then. It’s beautiful and wonderful. I watch speechless until the colors have faded and it’s just the beginning of a beautiful sunny day.

 

            “I had forgotten how beautiful a sunrise is.”

 

            Buffy brushes her fingers against my cheek. “Yeah, we have another one of those scheduled tomorr-“She stops and covers her mouth with her hands. Tears instantly flood her eyes.

 

            “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

 

            “Oh, God, Angel, I used to dream about seeing you like this. You are so beautiful in the sunlight.”

 

            She reaches out to touch me with trembling fingers, afraid I’ll turn into dust. I lean into her touch. Being touched by Buffy has always been a religious experience for me, and I’m not talking about the sex, although we tried that earlier and, Wow. Even the way she touches my face, or my shoulder, or my hand. Being touched by Buffy, when I’m human, nothing compares to that.

 

            She leans in and kisses me, hesitantly at first and then deepens the kiss. For the first time in our relationship, I’m the one who has to come up for air. I take a deep breath and laugh. I love being alive.

 

            I pick my beautiful golden girl up in my arms and carry her back into the room. I want to stay out the sun, but I want Buffy more.

 

 

            @--Buffy--@

 

            I wake up slowly, by inches. I reach across the bed and purr when my fingers run into Angel. He doesn’t feel like my Angel. His skin is warm and not cool. He’s snoring very softly, a side effect of the whole breathing thing. I open my eyes and roll on my stomach to watch him. The rise and fall of his chest brings tears to my eyes. How long have I wanted this? It feels like since the day I was born.

 

            I can hear Willow and Dawn downstairs. I know they will be floored by the news. I want to keep him just mine for a little while longer though, selfish I know, but I think I’ve earned it. I look at him now, the sunlight washing his pale skin. I wonder if I had known in the beginning it would turn out like this, would that have made a difference? Maybe there wouldn’t have been as much heartbreak or pain, maybe there wouldn’t have been as many tears, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten lost for those two hellish years, maybe all that makes this that much sweeter.

 

            There is knock on the door. I am pulled out of my reverie and Angel wakes up with a start. I lay my hand on his chest. The thump thump against my palm makes me giddy and the knock on the door is forgotten as the world fades away. Angel closes his eyes, basking in my touch, in the feel of his own heartbeat and I am overcome. I lean forward and capture his lips, warm lips, with my own. I run a hand through his hair and down his neck. He smiles into the kiss and I feel the little puff of warm breath against my lips as he exhales.

 

            “Omigod omigod omigod, I’m scarred, I’m scarred.” Dawn’s voice pulls the world back into sharp focus. “Buffy! Who the hell is naked in your bed?” She yells, clearly irate and over the scarred for life issue.

 

            I bite my lip and lean back to reveal Angel. Her face goes pale and her eyes tear up. She jumps in the middle of the bed with a squeal and tackles Angel with a hug. She saying something, but it’s completely incomprehensible. She’s crying though.

 

            “Dawnie? What’s the matter?” Willow yells up the stairs.  The redheaded witch appears in the doorway only a second later. She stares with her mouth agape and then she joins Dawn on the bed with the hugging and the crying.

 

            At some point, we all realize that I only have a nightgown on and Angel is naked with only a sheet pulled up to his waist. Dawn and Willow both turn crimson and stumble their way out of the bedroom.

            I look at Angel in complete awe. He’s blushing. I’ve never seen him blush before.

 

*

 

            Fred was downstairs in the kitchen cooking. Angel wanted to go in and see her himself. I don’t know what was said but I did hear lots of Fred squealing and then some crying. She and Angel came out of the kitchen together. Fred had tear tracks down her cheeks and a smile as wide as I’ve ever seen.

 

            “Oh Gosh, this gives me so many new theories on dimension and portals and the effects on people who go through them and in them and out of them.” She was still chattering about theories and timelines and dimensional portals when she wandered into her office to start her research on it.

 

            Wes cried in that very British I’m-not-crying way where his eyes tear up and he pinches the bridge of his nose and says “yes, well” a lot.

 

            “You were right, Wes, about the shanshu, all along.” Angel says.

 

            “Perhaps, I had no idea shanshu would involve you spending time in a hell dimension. It would have been rather convenient and made things easier for you had we known ahead of time.” Wes commented.

 

            “It doesn’t matter now.” He says wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer. “It was worth it, all of it.”

 

            He is right. The road here was a bumpy one and we even lost it a time or two, but we found our back and it’s worth it. I’d do every single step all over again just to get here.

 

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

 

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

 

                       

                                    -Robert Frost