Title – Endings and Beginnings

Disclaimer - not mine.

Rating - PG

Spoilers - everything ever.

Pairing - Buffy/Angel.

Synopsis – beginning to clear the air...

Feedback - always.

AN – this is Buffy's POV.

I inhale a deep breath in a yet another futile attempt to stop the tears, something I haven't been able to do for I don't know how long. He is still holding me, and we're still standing at the exact same place where he first grabbed me and kissed me, bringing out in me emotions I've been trying to repress for three years with this one kiss. His arms are wrapped tightly around me as though he's just as afraid to lose me, as I am to lose him. I don't think he's planning to let me go, but I also know I don't want him to, not so soon, not before I'll get used to the fact he really is here.

Not as many people are looking at us now, I notice. Some of them, that were just leaving the party when everything cam crushing down resumed with their plans and went home. Some have left afterwards, being too polite to stick their noses into where they didn't belong. But some were still here, looking at us. And Cole was looking at us, too.

As I slightly lift my face from his chest, I take a quick look around, as much as I can without leaving his arms, and I see the others, too. Willow, who has tears formed in her eyes by now, next to her are standing the very lost Giles and Xander, and then Dawn, who for some reason doesn't seem to be quite clear on whether she's dreaming or not. And then I see Connor. He's standing together with Liz, who is probably more confused than everybody else put together, given the fact she hasn't got even the slightest idea of what's it all about. But I see her looking at Connor and I know she's feeling something isn't quite right because that moment, she reaches for one of his hands and takes it in hers, putting the other on his shoulder. Connor has grown up a lot in three years, he has grown into a man, and though he barely looks like his father, there still exists a resemblance that is hard to miss when you put the two of them together like that. Looking at her, it's hard to decipher what's really going on in her head, but I know she's on the right track towards the eventual truth.

But Connor... He's frozen. He's just standing there, looking at the two of us, more at Angel, than me, if to be exact. His blue eyes are turmoil of emotions, in some aspects, he reminds me of an animal caught in fire and waiting for its doom. It's difficult to tell whether his instincts tell him to stay or to run nevermind where, but as fast and as far as his legs can carry. He's looking at his father like one would look at a ghost, his eyes growing larger and bluer as a result of the contrast with the unusually pale texture of his face. The strangest thing is that I don't see tears in his eyes, but I don't see happiness in them either, or the remotest kind of joy. It's like he's been stripped completely from any emotion, but at the same time, it seems they're all restless inside of him. In all the three years I've known him, I've never seen Connor like that, not even close. But then again, not every day is the day when your father comes back from the dead, and what's more, literally *alive* this time.

I carefully look up at Angel and see that except for his arms that never loosen around me even for a split second, his entire attention is set on Connor. I almost chuckle as I realize a part of me is ready to push them towards each other like in some corny movie to force them into making the first move. But the other part of me has to live in the reality where things are not that simple.

"Dad?" Connor whispers quietly, then as if realizing he must have sounded like a frightened child, he blinks and swallows, clearing his throat a couple of times in the process. "Dad," he says that one word again, and it seems to be a stranger to his lips.

His girlfriend's eyes widen in shock as the truth she'd been looking for all along is slammed in her face. She bewilderingly glances between father and son a couple of times, until her eyes settle on me. In the end, they all look at me, for some reason.

We're all too caught up in each other to pay any attention to our surroundings, when in the middle of this emotional roller coaster, Cole's fist abruptly connects with Angel's face, causing him to release me from his embrace. As he stumbles back a little from the surprise of the blow rather than its might, I find myself between the two men in my life. The one I'm holding onto, who up until recently was my ex-dead-lover, and the other, standing in front of us with an enraged fire and dejection in his bright eyes, who up until recently used to be my fiancé...

I worriedly gaze up at Angel and raise one hand to his cheek, gently stroking the burning flesh where Cole hit him. He looks down at me, there is confusion in his orbs, and anguish, and happiness, all at the same time. But there is no remorse, not even a little. And as he removes my hand from his face and kisses it, I release a sigh of relief. I lay my head on his chest, holding him tightly, and he embraces me, planting a soft kiss on my crown. And I know that moment, he's not letting me go again, never, no matter what, and I fall in love with him all over again just for that.

I know I should be dealing with this entire mess now instead of relishing my lover's arms, but all reason seems to leave me behind the point of cognition. I know what I have to do, but I don't have enough willpower to do it. I can't deal with Cole, or with Connor, or with the others. I can't leave these arms.

"Cole, don't, please," I plead with him, when by watching his body language, I know he's not satisfied enough with what he's just done. The thought Cole has probably every right to act this way doesn't even cross my mind that moment, or the fact Angel's muscles or strong build really don't require my protection, when, in attempt to shield him, I step in between the two, holding Angel back. But before I do anything further, Connor's fist shoots out, right into Cole's jaw, causing the older of the two to lose his balance and slump backwards.

Angel's son stands there, looking down at Cole for a moment, then just as vacantly gazes up at his father and I. He opens his mouth, as though he's finally ready to say something, but before he does, he whirls around and runs out of the now almost empty club.

"How could you?"

We both look at Cole, who is by now, back to his feet and wiping the trail of blood from his split lip. A part of me instinctively wants to tend him, but Angel's arm slightly squeezes my shoulder and it's enough to banish all kinds of thoughts of Cole away from my mind.

"You were my best friend, dammit!" he yells, when Angel doesn't answer him. I've almost never heard Cole raise his voice, and even though I'm in Angel's arms, I still can't help the shudder. "How the hell could you do this to me?" he lowers his voice a bit this time, but it doesn't take down from the expression of just pain and anger in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I hear Angel, and before he can proceed, I place a hand over his chest, silently asking him to let me say it instead.

"It isn't his fault, Cole," I say softly, looking for the right words as I go along, only to find out there aren't any that can make the pang of betrayal from both of us together any less. In his mind, *my* Angel *was* his best friend and nothing can prove him otherwise. "You have every right in the world to be angry, but please, be angry with me. Angel hasn't done anything, I did. I'm the one who kept secrets from you, not Angel."

"I loved you," he argued, turning the accusing gaze from my lover to me. "I still do."

"I know," I nod and gulp as I impulsively bury my face in Angel's protective chest for a moment, unable to look him in the eyes. "And I shouldn't have let you. I should have stopped you, and I didn't. When you came to make me yours, I..." I briefly look down to my feet and cling closer to Angel, who responsively crushes me to him. I look down at my hand and I see Cole's engagement ring, and I piercingly realize it's the wrong one. "I already belonged to someone." I slide off the ring and hand it back to the man who gave it to me only a week ago. "I'm sorry," I say, as I place the golden band with the diamond on the open palm of his hand. "I really am sorry."

He gazes at me for a moment, digesting what I've just done. With his palm still open, he looks at Angel. "I don't care what you say, I've known you my entire life. I trusted you more than I ever trusted anybody, *ever*." He pauses and moistens his lips, and I see it's so much harder for him than he shows, and though I can't feel much aside from completeness and tranquility, my heart breaks for him. I almost feel sorry for what I've done. Almost. Then I rest my head on that treasured chest and realize I can never be. As selfish a bitch as it makes me, I'm old enough to allow myself to love the only man I ever have without answering to anybody about it. "I was with her for six months, and all that time, I hoped she'd *once* look at me the same way she looks at you now. I always knew there was someone," I catch him glance at Willow and inwardly wonder what they talked about while I was gone. "Even before I was told there was, I knew. Because she was never completely mine, she wasn't even close. But what I found out was that this someone was *dead*," his tone jumped up a bit with this word and I flinched into my lover's arms, subconsciously holding onto his shirt. He senses me just right, and hugs me closer, placing a reassuring kiss on my head. Cole is looking at us, as the aversion in his eyes fades into disbelief. "But you... you were never dead. You've been there my whole life. *In* my life, right under my nose."

No one says anything for a few moments, during which nobody moves either, and I take this opportunity to throw a concerned glance at the exit of the Bronze, as my thoughts momentarily drift off to Connor. When I look up at my lover, I know he shares these exact thoughts. But as much as he'd want to be *there*, there is still one thing *here* that just can't remain unfinished, regardless to how much the 'selfish' we might want it to. "I'm sorry, for what I've done to you," he tells my former fiancé, and I acknowledge that instead of listening to the words, I was listening to the sound of his voice. "But things aren't as simple as you think, Cole, they never were. It might have taken me a while, but I understand that now."

"Enlighten me," he challenges sarcastically though I thought he'd say something along the lines of not wanting to hear anything Angel has to say. The last thing I thought was that he'd insist on having this conversation. Or maybe it was *hoped* to...

I feel Angel nod in acceptance, and I take his hand in mine before he starts to speak again. "I *was* dead, even though I still have trouble remembering everything exactly. I don't know how I came back, or who is responsible though I seem to know when it happened. Three years ago, Cole. I didn't *know* you, and you never met me, up until three years ago." Cole wants to say something, but Angel doesn't let him, he's too resolve to settle this once and for all, and I can't help but inwardly thank him for cleaning up this mess for me, or should I say, both of us. "You can ask Buffy sometimes," Angel nods at me, and suddenly I know where he's heading with that. I'm proven right when he says, "she'd know everything about implanting fake memories into people, having experienced it first hand." He takes a deep breath and I tune out of the conversation for a moment though I still hear the words in the background. The wheels in my head are too busy turning and forming their own conclusions, taken from what Angel has just said. Apparently, there is more to his all-around ordinary human life than I thought there was. I already dread the talk we're going to have after everything else is settled. Nothing really is simple in our world, not even when it seems to be perfect. *Especially* not then.

"So again," he continues, "I don't know who or what is responsible for bringing me back, I don't know why they went through so much trouble to create these life for me and I know even less about why they chose this way, to bring me back into her life. I share your memories, Cole, I share your friendship, even though it's not over three years old. And that is *why* I'm sorry. But I can't feel sorry for loving her," he shakes his head resolutely, and his soft brown eyes don't twitch even a little. Instead, they're set and fixed on only one purpose - the truth. And I love him for that. And when his arm tightens possessively around my waist to strengthen his words, I love him even more. "I've never loved another woman in two hundred-and-fifty-three years, the way I love her. I guess I had to be the fool of destiny this time, but whoever played with me so much to make the only woman I love engaged to my best friend must have done their share of planning. Whether you want to call it destiny or not, something up there brought me back to her, and I don't know why I was given this chance, but I *do* know I'm not wasting it this time."

He looks at both of us for a moment, then lets out a dry rueful laugh, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "Keep it," he hands me back the ring. When he sees me faltering, he doesn't move his palm, but patiently waits for me to accept his offer, and I know then that he won't give up until I do. I briefly look up to check with Angel, and when I find the silent affirmation only I can detect in his eyes, I gather the ring from Cole's palm.

"I made it for you, anyway," he says. He peers at Angel and I one last time, and his eyes linger on me. After a brief consideration, he notes solemnly, "I hope you find what you're looking for. I know you have, but... never mind." Then he looks at Angel, and to my surprise, his expression doesn't change a bit when he flatly says, "I never want to see you again. Just so we make that clear."

Then he turns around and leaves.

THE END