Title – Resolution of Second Thoughts.

Disclaimer - not mine. The song is "Third Eye Blind"'s, called "The Background". It appeared in Buffy's dream in "Faith Hope and Trick", so my guess is we all know that one;). Lyrics are in Itallics.

Rating - PG

Spoilers - everything ever.

Pairing - Buffy/Angel.

Synopsis – the engagement party

Feedback - always.

AN – this part is longer. Much longer, hope you enjoy. At the beginning it's Buffy's pov, then it changes into Willow's. Spoilers exception – the events described in this part are obviously, as most of us know, not the way things happened during the latest Angel episode "Salvage".

I sigh and snuggle closer to my fiancé as he instinctively tightens his arm around my shoulders. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes only for a moment, in a dull attempt to banish all the hum surrounding me for a single moment of peace. But I can't, and it doesn't come. There is something else I want to go away, a distant feeling I haven't had in years, the same one... the one I have when I'm in the same room with *him*, but I don't see him. No, I don't believe for a second he could be really there, no amount of alcohol has yet been created to make me hallucinate *that* after three years when he wasn't. But, still, the idea of my conscience setting up on my already guilty nerves isn't very appealing either.

But at least I can look on the bright side - it's not *all* my fault this time. For some reason, regardless to how excited they were from the idea of an engagement party and all the fuss around it, Willow and Xander both never missed the opportunity to send me a subtle hint that maybe I should wait a little longer. Especially Xander, I won't even get into how surprised I was. He refused to tell me why, but he insisted, that I shouldn't take a decision like spending the rest of my life with someone that lightly when I'm not sure. He's been weird ever since I broke the news, I remember, I thought he was like that because of his own past experience with Anya, but for some reason I'm not so sure anymore. And I don't know what to make of it. Well, at least he didn't seat me down to a heart-to-heart talk like Giles did some days ago...

I open my eyes again and let them wander around me, taking in the so familiar and never-changing Bronze with all the people in it. This is the first time I notice there are barely any friends of mine present tonight. Guess being a Slayer takes its toll on my socializing skills as well. Obviously, since the almost the entire club is packed with Cole's friends from the force, from LA, from outside California, and there are even some that still haven't made it but promised to show up eventually. I don't intend to feel sorry for myself though, as I look to my right at Willow, deeply engrossed in some discussion with Xander, the both of them, for some reason, being dateless for the night. I remember how the two of them set up this entire party for Cole and I all by themselves, insisting on it to be an engagement present and I can't help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I've never seen anybody work on anything as hard as they did on tonight.

And then there is Giles, whom I don't see in the crowd, but I know he's there because he and Cole's parents have been practically inseparable the entire evening. My sister is sitting next to Xander and is too busy moping into a glass of beer I still don't know why I allowed her to have. Remembering my drinking experience at nineteen, all I get is shivers all through my body. Jason and her broke up a couple of days ago, like that came crashing down on us like a big surprise, at least it won me a bet with myself. But she's here, and that's what counts.

And there is Connor. My eyes linger on him, snuggled on a couch across from us together with Liz. She has her head lying on his chest and her eyes are closed as he's leisurely combing his fingers through her hair and softly whispering to her things that make her smile even though to an unknowing eye she appears to be asleep. Whenever I look at them, I can't help but being overflowed by memories of another long-gone couple and I force myself to stop thinking abut that. Our gazes brush across one another occasionally and that's as much proof as I get from him for that he even knows we're in the same room. He did approach Cole and I earlier with his girlfriend and we exchanged a few words, but that conversation, even if didn't last more than five minutes, was so formal, I wanted to scream, I can't believe I say it but I was actually glad when our ways finally parted. I don't hate him, I have no reason to. And it wasn't really formal, it was just... not the was I'm used to talk to Connor, it almost felt like talking to a stranger instead and I hated every second of it. But I know why he came, he came because he knew it was important to *me* that he would, and in the end of the day it was reason enough for me. He knew, as did I, that it wouldn't really matter whether or not we'd spend the night hand in hand, the important thing would be for him to show. And he did.

I angle my chin up a bit and steal a glance at Cole's handsome profile, we both had a little *too* much fun tonight, but unlike me, he doesn't seem to be exhausted, or maybe even in twenty-five I better stay away from any kind of alcohol. That would probably also explain why I feel a sudden pang of jealousy when I see him talking to his two friends instead of being with me on a night that's supposed to be completely ours. My emotions are obviously out of control, so I'm at least grateful I'm not crying my eyes out about something as trivial as *that*. But maybe it's just this point again where I'm looking for flaws in a place there aren't any? Maybe in my darkest subconscious I despise myself for having enjoyed tonight for what it was and am now trying to dig up something wrong with it? One thing for sure, if these are the thoughts I'm having right now, I really did have too much to drink.

I let out another sigh and that somehow drives him to break the conversation and look down at me. "You okay?" he asks quietly, so only the two of us can hear it, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "You look tired, you wanna call it a night?"

I shake my head slightly and straighten up. My heart fills with brief concern when my eyes no longer find Connor and Liz, but I just as quickly relax when I descry them dancing among the other couples to the slow tune of a song. "We can't sneak out on our own engagement party," I point out, grinning wearily at his offer and drawing a chuckle from him as he, too, realizes what he's just suggested. "Besides, I'm still not *that* tired. And no way am I calling it a night after I let Will squeeze me into *that*," I glance down on my dress, deep crimson silk, skin tight and crossing at the back, down to my knees in length. I still can't believe I wore that, no matter how great everyone say I look in it, especially my fiancé. I must have really been way too nervous before the party to let Willow dress me into it and only notice what I was wearing half through the evening.

He laughs. I like hearing him laugh. I like it because it proves that even for a brief moment, I somehow made him happy. And that, in some twisted way, makes my self-resentment for never being able to give him all he deserves a bit... less.

Sending him one last mischievous grin, I pull out of his embrace and nudge Willow's arm, drawing her attention from Xander for a moment as my fiancé turns back to his friends.

"You wanna go outside for a moment?" I ask her, and I'm suddenly not smiling anymore. Not because for her I don't feel the need to pretend, just because I'm suddenly so tired, so tired of smiling as I've been doing all night, never mind the fact it was because I was happy, as I can be with it being Cole's and my engagement party. I hear the melancholic melody of the new song spreading all about the club and I wanna press my hands against my ears to keep myself from listening to it, I wanna get out of here and never hear these words.

Everything abruptly is so clear again it's scary, like I've gotten completely sober from being completely drunk, all within a second. And when everything is clear, the pain returns.

My best friend studies me and I see her formerly smiling green eyes fill with concern and I know she recognizes the look in mine. I notice Xander's typical goofy expression sobered up also, and he's looking at me the same way Willow does. And all I want is to escape. Why did they have to put up that song?? But I guess no one knows anything, so why wouldn't they...

And of course it wouldn't be my luck if Cole didn't take my hand that moment and pulled me up to my feet. "Dance with me," he asks, and I just wish to die inside. I blink as I look into his eyes and I don't say anything, but I think the expression in mine was too powerful to conquer because I see him flinch and his smile fades off into nothing. But he doesn't let go of my hand. "Dance with me," he repeats, only this time also acts upon his words and pulls me after him onto the dance floor.

I'm not supposed to remember a dream, how can a person possibly remember a dream, let alone one that happened six or seven years ago. My fiancé wraps his arms around me and I suddenly stiffen to the feel of them, after having spent the entire party enjoying it. I know what strikes me as wrong and even though I do, I can't say it, not to him. Never to him. He has the wrong arms. I feel tears rising in my throat and I inwardly reiterate to myself that I will never cry. Not now, not in front of him. This song... it doesn't belong to him. So isn't this dance... or this woman. But I will never tell him.

I only told Willow about the dream, and she must remember it until today because I see the way she's looking at me and I know we're sharing a memory. With the only exception that mine also possesses the visual her does not, and the ring I lost so long ago. And mine has Angel...

That moment, I realize Willow isn't remotely the only one looking at us, and that is followed by the realization why. I feel the tears pressing my eyes and I don't know how much longer I'll be able to hold them. Cole and I aren't even dancing anymore, he just stands there and looks at me, and I don't dare to look him in the eyes because I know what I'll find there. The same truth that prevents me from looking in the mirror. I never thought sobering up would be that agonizing.

"I'm sorry," I murmur and make a step back. "I'm sorry," I repeat, mostly to myself than anyone else. "I have to get some air," I sniff back the tears and whirl around, practically running out of the club and not stopping until the final words of that damned song no longer reach my ears.

I exhale as I lower myself back into my seat. Nodding at Xander as we share a similar look before he leaves the same way Buffy did, I turn my eyes back at the man my best friend is supposed to marry. Others are looking at him, too, some come up and ask what happened, or say something else I can't hear anyway because I'm too far. Besides, my brain isn't exactly functioning on that level at the moment, it's more occupied with the questions he's about to ask and the answers I'm going to have to supply in order to fill at least some of the blanks Buffy never did.

And suddenly, I ask myself. Is it even my right? Is it my place to open her heart to him? I mean, she never did, what makes me any different. If anything, it does make me different, in the sense that I'm *not* her, I don't have the right to reveal her secrets. But what am I supposed to tell him now?

He finally turns around and our eyes meet, and he walks over to me. I feel my blood runs cold and shivers creep down my spine when he pulls a chair and sits down in front of me and I impulsively shrink from him as though he were contagious. I was never good with keeping secrets, I don't know what Buffy would want me to do, what to tell, what not to tell. But Buffy's split. No, I didn't expect her to stay, but the result is the same - she's not here. And he deserves answers. Am I the judge of that? Probably no, but nor do I see anyone else jumping in for the fun.

"How?" he asks, his voice is flat and demanding, and though this one word seems to have materialized out of thin air I know exactly what he's referring to.

I swallow hard and clasp my hands together in my lap, inhaling a deep breath before fixing my eyes on him again. "Three years ago. Buffy told you about the Beast, she told you about LA, I know that much. Now, to the part you don't know." I pause for a moment, unsure again if and how I should proceed. God, how did I manage to get myself into this??

"His friends thought that in order to take down the Beast, they needed Angelus, that being Angel's demon. Apparently, their ways crossed sometime in the past and they made some pact between them. So in a nutshell, they assumed releasing Angelus would be their only chance, they wee sure he'd know how to destroy the Beast."

"Seems to me he did," he observed dryly, leaning back in his seat, but the dark spark in his eyes didn't make signs of disappearing. "The sun is shining, on some of us, anyway."

I swallow, seem to be doing it a lot lately, and nod, unsure what for. "He didn't. Angel did, later. Angelus was never going to kill the Beast, he knew how to, but he had no intentions to use that knowledge in one way or another. All he had in mind was filling his part in the pact the two of them made centuries ago. So the whole thing got out of hand, Angelus was on the lose, his soul was missing, and what's more, the last hope they had at putting a stop to the Beast slipped through their fingers. So they called me."

"Why?" he interrupts me to ask and I really don't see the point, but shrug it off.

"Because I had a certain experience with restoring Angel's soul when it goes missing." I peer carefully into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts, but it's not working, they're fathomless. It could mean two things, either he's not listening to a word I'm saying, or is way past caring. Not sure which is worse.

"They called me so I could restore his soul, because it was their last resort. Either this, Or Connor kills his father, and with Faith being free again, probably with some Slayer-type help. They couldn't risk it."

"Who's Faith?" he breaks me off again, and I'm starting to lose my patience. It's not a story I enjoy telling, let alone telling and being constantly interrupted. There's one thing I realize as I build my sentences along one by one though, Buffy will never be able to tell it herself, even if she did want to. So in some ironic way, it's been up to me all along.

"Another Slayer and please *don't* interrupt me again, I'm not enjoying telling it any more than you're enjoying listening to it, trust me," I warn him before he can ask anything else. I'm not turning this into a game, because it's everything but. "So they call me, and I do what I do, and I bring Angel back. Only one problem now, the new and improved Angel comes with Angelus' memories. Eaten with guilt for everything his demon did while in control, he sets his mind to amend for everything the only and most immediate way he can think of, which is by killing the Beast." I stop again and cast my eyes to the floor for a moment, as a memory of Buffy dropping the phone with Wesley on the other line and her eyes flooding with tears because the moment he called, she already knew how this would end. She never went there to help him, she went there to watch him die. She knew it all along and she went anyway.

"So he killed it, he destroyed the Beast now that he knew how to. But he was injured in that fight. The Beast clawed him, or that's what I was told. No one knew it was poison, no one even suspected it, not even Angel himself, until about a second before he collapsed already back in the hotel. Again, they were running out of options and out of time, so they called Buffy. Her Slayer's blood is the cure, and having it saving him once already from poison, they thought it could help this time, too." His eyes are large and disbelieving as he's looking at me now, he knows what I'm about to say next, and he knows the past story I never told him, because he suddenly remembers the two little marks on his fiancée's neck that aren't even visible anymore unless you look real hard. Things that formerly had no meaning are falling into place for him now and I can only imagine how awful that feeling must be.

"She couldn't help him, Cole. Nothing could help him. I don't know exactly what went on during her visit there, but I do know that when she came back, she brought Connor with her, and the news of his death. I know that I'll never forget the day she came back from LA. She was *dead*. You might only think you know Buffy, but you never did, you never could, you were never given the chance to, because you came too late. They were soulmates, never mind together or apart, and now the other half of her soul died. Buffy died with him, what came back... that wasn't Buffy anymore." I stop as a realization of my own drowns on me. I clearly should have sat down with myself along time ago and go through the same story... maybe it would make me a better friend, helped me understand that... You could never take his place, I want to tell him, but I don't have the heart to. I see his dreams shatter in his orbs as the bright blue darkens with the inevitable shadow of understanding, that he could never have her.

"I love her," I hear him whisper, and I lay my hand on his arm in a hollow comforting gesture. I don't know what else I can do, or say. I don't know how you comfort someone after something like this, I don't know if it's even possible.

"She does, too, just-"

"Just not like him," he finishes my thoughts and I find myself nodding. "Never like him," he adds in a whisper as he pulls his hand from mine and as I follow his gaze I find it drift over to where Connor is standing, watching us. There is no resentment in his eyes anymore.

"Xander, he..." I hear myself saying something I swore I would never mention to anyone except maybe to Buffy sometime. I contemplate over my next words, maybe it's still not too late to go back. And I know it is. "He saw it coming... I should have listened to him. Let's just go poetic and say he... found a piece of her soul outside with the morning paper."

He nods, but I know he heard almost no word of what I've just said. Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. I know what he's thinking because I can see his thoughts reflect clearly in his eyes, and I wonder if I haven't made things worse by trying to make them better.

"Why didn't she tell me? Why did she have to lie to me all that time?"

Why? "Because it's not an easy thing to tell," I say, and I know it's not enough, nor is it what he wants to hear. But I think we both know there has been enough lying to last a lifetime in that department by now. "It's hard for *her* to talk about, let alone to you..."

"She was going to marry me, Willow, the least she could do was tell me she was in love with her ex!"

"You knew!" I cut him, attempting to rise my voice above his though I know it's none of anyone else's business. I don't know what came up on me all of a sudden. Maybe I'm just... looking for the subtlest way to inform him of the truth, but can't find anything better than the bluntest of words... "You knew," I repeat softly, making sure to look him in the eyes as I say that. "There was a time you were ready to have her anyway you could because you *knew* there was always something owning a part of her that would be forever unattainable to you."

"Does she even want to be with me?" he asks after a short pause, and my heart aches at the barely discernible note of despair and deception in his voice.

"Why wouldn't she?" I ask, but my voice is slightly wavering as I do.

"I'm sorry."

She's just standing there, waiting for us to look up though she doesn't have to wait long. Her arms wrapped around herself, tightening Xander's jacket to her slim body, and she's clutching a white folded piece of paper in one hand, and only I of the two of us know what it is.

"Buffy," he gets up slowly and reaches out to touch her. I watch her carefully, and so does Xander, and Connor, and Dawn, and neither of us is surprised when just as his palm comes in contact with her skin, she winces away from his touch.

"I'm sorry," she reiterates, and though her eyes are still red from crying, they are resolute and confident. "I'm so sorry I lied to you... that I hurt you."

"Buffy, I-" he tries to insert a word, but she pleads with him not to with a weak shake of her head. The moment lingers as the tension between the six of us builds up. As my eyes dart between the two of them, every second seems to misleadingly be the one in which Cole is going to turn around and walk off. But he never does. Instead, he hesitantly reaches for her hand and picks it up, briefly glancing at his ring still worn on her finger. "I still love you," he informs her softly.

She closes her eyes and sniffs back her tears, never bothering to pull her hand back. When she reopens them, she looks at him again, only this time with even more determination than ever. "I know," she nods, and her lips curve in a melancholic smile as she clasps his hand gently. "I-" the words die on her lips as she pales and her eyes momentarily widen in what can almost pass for shock though I know it's not. *I* know what it is, I remember it from years ago, when I see the love entering them. I know what she feels... *whom* she feels, even though I can't possibly explain how. And all the while, he think she's looking at him.

"Buffy, don't."

Six heads turn simultaneously in the direction where that voice came from, because we *all* recognize its owner.

THE END