Title: Dream of a Nightmare

Author: Mariah (miaow@zahav.net.il)

Disclaimer: nothing's mine.

Rating: for now, like the show and unless by some miracle it changes, prolly will stay that way.

Spoilers: everything up to "Out of My Mind" and "Untouched", the episodes included, just to be safe. Since I try weaving it into cannon to a certain extent, expect spoilers from afterwards too, especially from AtS. 

Pairings: B/R, B/A, W/T, X/A. Dunno of others will appear too.

Synopsis: Don't have much to say at this point, sorry:), other than I have an idea for a little B/A fix-up for seasons 5&2...;).

Distribution: be nice and ask me first?:)

Feedback: hell, yeah!

Note - IMPORTANT: I'm *not* promising I'll finish this fic. I'll try my best, my very best (also depends if you even want me to finish it...), but unless it's done within the next month or so, I can't promise anything because I don't know how my lifestyle will change with the army in it. I wasn't going to start a new project *at all*, but this fic was screaming to be written and I couldn't resist, lol;). So as of now, its future is uncertain. But since I never not finished a fic before,  as i said, I'll try my very best to wrap it up. Let's hope for the best:).

"Buffy." The redhead witch opened the door wider and moved back to let the Slayer inside her and Tara's dorm.

The blonde walked past her, rubbing her eyes in attempt to clear her suddenly blurry vision as she looked around the room, which was in some places obscured with heavy purplish mist.

As Willow shut the door behind her, Tara opened the windows, helping the fog outside with her hands.

"What has happened here?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"A-a spell," the blonde witch stammered as she moved back from the window towards the Slayer.

"Actually, a spell *didn't* happen," her lover corrected her. "It kinda…got messed up. We're not sure where, we still have to look into it. We were trying to…what are you doing here?" she suddenly snapped back to the present. "Not that I..."

Buffy sighed. "I'm not too late, right?"

"Too late?" Willow's eyes widened. "We were supposed to go somewhere? Cuz I didn't-"

"No," the blonde held up her hand, then pointed at the clock, "I meant, too late." The hands sowed it was already quarter past midnight.

"Oh! No, no, you're not," Willow was quick to assure her.

"Good," Buffy nodded. "That's good. I…I kinda…wanted to talk. Can we talk?"

"S-should I go?" Tara asked quietly, nodding towards the door. "Because I can leave you alone, and…"

"No, you don't have to go," Willow took the witch's hand and pulled her to her side, then looked at Buffy. "She doesn't have to go…right?"

"No," the Slayer bit her lower lip as she slightly tilted her head to the side.

"Okay," Tara nodded. "Then…I'll go make us some coffee?" she suggested, and receiving approving nods in return, headed to their mini fridge.

"So what's up?" Willow started towards her bed, motioning for her friend to follow and Buffy waited while the witch cleared the bedcover from various herbs and other magick accessories, moving them to Tara's bed that was already loaded with similar things.

In the end, Willow was done and both girls sat down. After a beat, the Slayer jumped back to her feet and started pacing back and forth in front of the thrown witch whose green eyes were darting after her face.

"Riley and I," Buffy finally began talking, "we had an argument."

"You found him…everything's okay, right?"

"No, everything's *not* okay!" the blonde yelled, startling the approaching Tara out of her balance and nearly causing three cups of steaming coffee to spill allover the carpet.

"O-okay," Willow stuttered, thrown even more by her friend's reaction, hesitantly patting on the empty spot next to her, indicating for the Slayer to sit down. "You wanna sit now?"

Buffy ignored her and kept pacing the floor. "I'm losing it, will, I can't stand it anymore!"

"What?"

"Riley!"

"Riley is an it?"

"Riley's jealousy! I can't stand it, I feel I'm gonna explode if he ever-" she greeted her teeth and stopped for a second, before resuming her pacing. "I'm going crazy worrying about him, that he'd get a heart attack, which he by the way got, that he's going to *die*, and he's lecturing to me about not being *man enough* and not wanting to give up his super powers because Angel is stronger!"

"He said that?" Willow couldn't believe. "Well…Angel is…kinda, stronger as it is…I mean, the last time he came..."

"Will!" Buffy interrupted her. "It isn't helping me right now! After all we did, after all we've been through, I gave him a year of my life, I stayed with him when I could have grabbed the first…*Spike* that came my way, if super-powers was what I wanted, and it's still not enough for him! He's the one who slept with Faith while she was in my body, and *I'm* the one who gets to be not trusted! I forgave him, I could have dumped him there and then, but I didn't! He never trusted me, Will, never! I thought it was over last year, I hoped he got over it, but apparently, not only didn't he get over it, he thinks it's *okay* for him to be jealous! I never gave him *one* reason, not one reason…"

Willow eyed her tenderly, then sighed. "You know that you did," she said quietly.

Buffy's eyes fixed on her instantly, demanding an explanation.

"You never told him," the witch rephrased.

"Told him what?" the blonde frowned at first, but then Willow's words hit home. She sighed, and sat down next to her friend. "The entire time…while we were arguing…I was so terrified he was going to ask," she whispered.

"And if he did?" Willow prompted.

"I don't know," Buffy shrugged feebly. "I don't know. I have no idea. If he asked…I don't know what I'd do. I would never get myself out of this mess, I know that much. We were at this point where lying just wouldn't do it anymore. It was just the truth and...if he asked me…chances are our relationship would be over." She drew in a deep breath and rose back to her feet, pacing across the carpet again. "That's not even half of it through. Riley upset me, but…he's not the only one who upset me."

"Who's the other half?" Willow asked gently.

"Angel,'' Buffy softly whispered the name.

"You saw Angel?!" the witch's gaze widened.

"No, I didn't see Angel, I was too busy worrying about my macho-man of a boyfriend!" she replied sarcastically.

"So what is it?"

"W-who is Angel?" the blonde witch stammered.

Her girlfriend looked up, a bit embarrassed. "Oh…ummm, well," she nervously glanced at Buffy, then back at Tara. "Well, Angel. The vampire…Angel. I-I told you about him, remember?"

Tara looked at her skeptically but nodded anyway.

"The vampire?" Buffy peered at her best friend, slight smirk evident in her voice as she uttered the exact term Willow had used. "That's how he goes around here now? Funny."

The redhead looked at her for a long moment, then finally said, "he can go by 'Angel' again…if you want to."

"If I want?" Buffy didn't understand what she'd meant by that question.

"You're with Riley now and…everything's different now. We never mention him, because you don't, Buffy-"

"Right. Because God knows you were such great friends with him!" the Slayer mocked.

"That's not what I meant!" the witch argued. "I just…meant that…people change, circumstances change, and…certain things stay in the past, a-and that's good that they do. Because they belong there."

The two women held each other's gaze for a long moment, clearly both not entirely agreeing with Willow's latter observation.

"Well, apparently, they don't," the blonde ultimately broke the silence. "And what really bites is that my boyfriend doesn't seem to want these *things* dead and buried. He very much enjoys bringing them up whenever his macho-jealousy kicks in." she stopped pacing and sat down on Willow's bed, folding her hands in her lap and looking down on them as she continued to speak, "But it's not just he, isn't he? I mean, I can blame it on him for as long as I want to, but it's not gonna change the fact that…it's me. It's my past and…I'm trying too hard to keep it there, in the past, and sometimes…in some twisted sort of way, I'm *grateful* for Riley's jealousy because…it's the painfully solid reminder to that he's ever existed at all. Because sometimes, when I'm trying so hard to forget…it's really working. And then he's gone. And then Riley's jealous for…whatever reason he has, and…he's here again. You know?" she finally looked up at the other two women.

And it really was working, she wasn't lying. It was working for a very long time, but still, every once in a very long while, she would still have that urge to open her bedside drawer and reach her hand for the small silver ring she had found glinting on her bedcover when she'd returned home after Graduation and stare at it until her lids would feel too heavy to hold themselves open. She had stopped doing that months ago though, she wondered if she even remembered how the ring looked like, as absurd as this thought was.

Did he still remember, she seldom wondered. When she had seen him last time, so many months ago…there was no ring on his finger anymore.

"Was he the one who…" Tara hesitantly brought her hand to her neck to complete her sentence.

Buffy unconsciously reached for her scar and let her fingertips trace lingeringly over the fading mark. What was she going to do when it's completely gone?

Suddenly, she stood up and headed to the door.

"Wait," Willow tailed her anxiously. "Buffy, you never said-"

"I know." The Slayer turned by the door. "I'm going to. But I've just made up my mind about something, and I need to tell this to everyone. So I'm going to Giles'. Meet me there in half an hour, okay? I'll explain everything. Call Anya and Xander for me?"

"Sure," the redhead nodded, a little puzzled by her friend's out-of-the-blue announcement.

"Thanks," Buffy smiled weakly and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

"You never told me, you know."

Willow turned to look at her girlfriend, who was now standing right next to her.

"About Angel," Tara clarified shyly. "You never told me about him."

The redhead looked down and sighed. "I-I didn't mean to leave you out, it's just…it never really…came up. He-he was…Buffy's boyfriend…"

The tender knowing gaze in the blonde witch's eyes caused her to stop. "That's all he was?"

Willow shook her head weakly.

"Then w-who was he?" Tara prodded gently.

"Her soulmate."

"So what's going on?" Xander asked, leaning back on Giles' couch, as Anya curled up under his arm and yawned. She certainly wasn't happy being woken up in the middle of the night

The Slayer surveyed everyone present and mustered herself for the upcoming. "I had a dream."

"Buff, if I called up a meeting every time *I* had a dream-"

"Xander," Giles interrupted him, bearing in mind that when his Slayer dreamt something, what's more, something she found important enough for a general wake-up call in the middle of the night, it was important enough to be heard.

"It was about Angel," Buffy went on, hoping this time to tell the whole story.

"You dreamt about Angel?" Willow cut in.

"No, not exactly, I was…it was…*again*, I wasn't dreaming about him, I was…in his dream. He was dreaming, and I became a part of it, somehow, I don't know how."

"What happened there?" Giles inquired, rubbing his chin, suddenly completely awake.

Buffy looked at him awkwardly, and without even knowing, repeated the same answer from almost two years ago, "Stuff…happened."

"What stuff, Buffy? I need to know…"

"No, believe me, you really *don't* need to know. It was…private."

"Well, then…how do you know it was Angel?" the Watcher probed carefully.

"The same way I knew last time around. It was his past, Giles, things I couldn't possibly be a part of. But I was. In his dream, I…I saw everything. More than I wanted to," she muttered the last sentence under her breath, but Xander's ears picked it up nevertheless.

"Why can't you tell us what it was, what's with the X-files all of a sudden? If Dead-Boy has skeletons in his coffin, I'm, for one, pro-public exhibition."

"He's right," Anya supported her lover without second thought, though she didn't sound too convincing speaking as though out of sleep. "I'm tired and I wanna know why I'm here, so-"

"Don't start with me, both of you!" Buffy's patience clearly ran out. "I've just spent the night doing guest spots in my ex lover's sex sessions with his supposedly-should-be-*dead*-Sire-" she was luckily cut off by Anya before she spilled any more intimate details about something she hadn't wanted to tell *anything* about only a minute ago.

"Was it hot?"

Everyone's eyes sharply turned on Xander's girlfriend.

"What? I mean, I've never done it with a vampire, but I heard stories, they say they're pretty good-"

"Do you mind?!" Buffy interrupted her in disbelief. When everyone finally looked back at her, she went on, "Can *I* please be the center of attention for one second? Does any of you even remember what happened the last time Angel and I shared dreams, or maybe a little trip down memory lane is in order?!"

"What happened?" Anya whispered in her boyfriend's ear.

"He went nuts, tried to kill Buffy or something like that-"

"He *didn't* try to kill me-"

"There was a whole deal with eye-less priests and evil spirits," Xander continued regardless to the comment.

"Oh. I heard about the priests," the former demon observed gravely, then shook her head, grabbing Xander's arm, looking up at the Slayer. "They're creepy. I don't want them here. Cure him!"

Giles sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing his brow tiredly. "W-what do you propose we do?" he asked Buffy.

"*We* aren't going to do anything." She inhaled a deep breath. "As far I go…I don't know."

"Buffy, ahm, Angel and you…well, you have always had a special connection. What I'm trying to say is that perhaps it doesn't mean anything…"

"But we don't *always* share dreams, Giles," she observed. "And it means pretty much *everything* in my book." She sighed, lowering her voice a bit. "When Angel and I share dreams…it's a cry for help."

Everyone turned to her expectantly.

Ultimately, she said, "I'm going. I made up my mind. I'm going to LA."

"LA?!" her Watcher exclaimed, it being the last thing he was expecting to hear though inside he knew it should have been the first.

"Good, I'm not the only one not liking that idea," Xander grumbled.

Buffy sharply turned to him. "Don't push it, Xander. I'm not remotely interested. I said I made up my mind, which means it's final. I just wanted you all to know what I'm gonna do, I'm *not* waiting to hear approvals or disapprovals of any kind."

"Us *all* know?" he couldn't give it a rest, the conversation he'd had with Riley a while ago was standing unmoving in his mind ever since, it was bothering him more than he wanted it to. "Unless I'm going blind, I think that the one of us who actually *has* to know isn't even present for the breaking of the big news."

"I said don't-"

"Xander is right, Buffy," Willow took her friend's side. "This is…this is a big step. Are you sure it's necessary? Are you sure you're not just taking it because of what happened with Riley?"

"Or jealousy," Anya muttered in her seat.

"Riley is an entirely different issue, he has nothing to do with my decision."

"Aren't you gonna tell him at all?" Xander asked.

Buffy eyed him for a long moment, then replied, "No." After a pause, she added, "And neither are you. Any of you. I'll tell him everything when I get back-"

"Don't you mean *if* you get back? Come on, Buff, we all know it's not gonna be a five minutes visit like the first time or the save-him-from-Faith visit like the second time. So what's it gonna be?"

"Xander, cut it out, I don't have time for this now," the blonde dismissed him emphatically. "It's done. I'm going. I'm sorry you can't understand it, but one jealous boyfriend is *way* more than enough for me."

"Hey!" Anya protested.

But Buffy gave no mind to her. "It has nothing to do with Angel and I, or with our history, or with our past or…with *anything* that has to do with *us*. It has to do with Angel, and he needs help. *My* help. And like it or not, I'm gonna be there to give it to him, regardless to everything you guys are gonna say. Because I know he would have been there for me if case were reversed."

No one said anything for several moments, taking the time for the news to sink in. Every single one of them, even those who never knew the ensouled vampire, had a strong feeling he was going to make an official comeback into their lives following that visit to Los Angeles.

"And I'm leaving tonight," Buffy delivered the final blow. "Right now."

Part 2 -

"Hey, guys!" Cordelia greeted Gunn and Angel from behind the front desk as they entered the Hyperion and walked around it to meet them. "So how'd it go? And…shouldn't Bethany be with you? Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty good with the hotel of the kind that…stays still, but…not like she has somewhere else to go. Especially after smearing daddy-dearest allover our sidewalk, I *so* don't see her being welcomed home with open arms."

"She didn't kill him," Angel told her, removing his long black coat and tossing it too the nearest couch.

"She didn't?" Cordelia eyed him doubtfully. "You know, that was some fall…"

"I think she broke it. The fall, I mean," he stressfully ran a hand through his spiky hair, sinking to the couch. "I don't know what she did. But I know there was no body and unless he got up and walked afterwards, I'm thinking he's alive."

"So what'd you two do with her?"

"Drove the lady to the buss station," Gunn replied. "Said she's going home."

"And you two brain-deads believed her?!"

"No!" both man and vampire grumbled simultaneously.

"Then why'd you let you go?" Cordelia moaned.

"Cordelia," Angel groaned, "I *can't* chain her to the wall and treat her like a child-"

"You can't chain her to the wall. Period," Gunn observed.

The vampire sighed and went on, "She's gotta figure things out on her own. At least now we know she can control this power and that's enough for me-"

"Enough for you?!" the former cheerleader interrupted him in disbelief. "It was *never* *enough* for you before! What if she's gonna *control* it by squashing ex-boyfriends with dumpsters just because the poor guys were late for a date? You wanna let that sit on your conscience?!"

"Cordelia!" Angel yelled, jumping up from his seat, his tone clearly told her he'd had enough. "I don't think there's much room left on my conscience as it is, so don't worry about that! Like I said, she can control it, so I trust that she will. I offered her my help, she didn't want it, she's *not* my problem anymore!"

Cordelia stared at him, wide-eyed, and if he hadn't known better, he would think she was genuinely scared.

"Still," came another voice, as Wesley stepped out of the office, approaching the trio, "letting her go, just like that, was rather rash, Angel."

"What are you doing here?" his boss turned to him, confusion on his face. "I sent you home…"

"Cordelia called me after you'd left with Gunn," the former Watcher explained. "I assumed I would be of more use here than in my apartment waiting for news. But seeing as you didn't bring her along…"

"Look, guys," Angel held up his hands, "if you don't like the way I handle *my* business, you're just…gonna have to learn to like it. I…I'm sorry. Not much I can do about it, okay? I made a decision and…it was the right decision." He turned to Cordelia, "And as long as I sign your checks, I appreciate it if you *try* to respect that. Now," he inhaled, turning to Wesley, "I had a long day-"

"Which lasted, what's the latest record…three hours?" Cordelia quipped, checking her watch.

Angel shot her an annoyed glare and she held up her hands in defense. "I'm going to bed," he informed, heading up the stairs. Wesley was going to comment, but Cordelia put a hand on his arm in the last possible second, holding him back. None of them had the slightest idea what was going on with their boss, but she had a feeling that more questions from the ex-Watcher and less actual answers from the vampire weren't going to solve the problem. She wished she knew what was though…

"What's up with the man?" Gunn asked Cordelia and Wesley after Angel was gone. "He almost drove us into a parked police car on the way back here. When was the last time he tested, fifty years ago?!"

"You okay?" the brunette sat down next to him.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Woke him up in time."

"He fell asleep?!" Wesley exclaimed, lowering his voice when he realized Angel might have heard that.

"Nah," Gunn waved his hand. "Just stopped caring. Like he wasn't there anymore."

"What is wrong with him?!" Cordelia hissed.

"Maybe a change of cushioning is in order," Gunn suggested jokingly.

"He doesn't use a coffin!" she hit his arm. Then calmer, she added, "But something's definitely up. What if he's having nightmares?"

"Cordelia, if people have nightmares, they actually tend to sleep *less*," Wesley remarked.

"When people go around crushing their cars into others, *that* means they sleep less," the African-American pointed out.

"No," the Englishman dismissed it. "When a person is suffering from nightmares, he is reluctant to fall asleep, while Angel…he is drawn to sleep as if it's some sort of sanctuary, almost as if it gives him…peace. Sleeping is pretty much all he's been doing lately," he mused. "He's hardly ever up when there's no case to be awake for. And when he is awake…he's very disoriented at times. As…you noticed, probably," he motioned pointedly at the other man. "We can rule out nightmares."

"*Sure*, because *I* suggested it."

"Cordelia," he groaned, "Angel is a vampire with a soul. *Constant* nightmares aren't a special phenomenon, they're an inseparable part of his existance, a part of him. Considering all the dreadful things Angelus did…it wonders me how he sleeps at all. Nightmares are most certainly not a factor here."

"Then what is?" the former cheerleader asked.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "He looks as though he's…under some sort of spell, I can't believe I'm saying it, but…I even considered drugs."

"Angel on drugs?!" Cordelia shot him a look. "Hello, *wrong* vampire, Wes? This is too ridiculous, even for your overly-developed-lack-of-a-brain-"

"Well, why don't *you* come up with a better idea, Miss-top-ten-of-my-class?!"

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Gunn clapped his hands and both colleagues ceased bickering and turned to look at him. "I think we have a client," he pointed at the door.

"Just what we needed," Cordelia muttered. "Just when we got rid of threat-number-one, hello number-two." She turned to Gunn and groaned quietly, rolling her eyes. "The only thing she needs rescuing from is you, so get your eyes back into your head, Romeo, you don't stand a chance." She lightly smacked the back on his head. "*However*, the only thing *we* are gonna need rescuing from is Miss-soulmate over there."

"Excuse me?" Gunn frowned at that.

"Gunn, meet the Slayer," Wesley introduced, just as Buffy finally approached their group.

"Buffy!" Cordelia's irritated scowl broke into a wide beam. "*Great* to see you!"

"I bet," the Slayer replied, grinning dryly.

Wesley shook his head, glancing at his co-worker. "Nice to see you, Buffy," he smiled at the blonde, "this is the Slayer," he clarified for the man next to him.

"I just…go by 'Buffy' now," she smiled, extending her hand.

"Charles Gunn," he shook it, "and I just go by Gunn...anyone ever told you you're too tiny for a legend?"

"Looks can be deceiving," Cordelia inserted to herself.

Buffy eyed him strangely, then smiled slightly at the comment, "There's always a first."

Gunn's eyes roamed over the Slayer from head to toe, clearly trying to estimate her both as a woman and as a warrior. "So," he finally spoke again, "you're Angel's girl."

"I, um…"

Cordelia rescued Buffy without even knowing when she abruptly smacked Gunn again, this time stronger. "Don't put ideas into her head!"

Wesley cleared his throat, seeing his co-worker had clearly forgotten the concept of good and bad timing. "Well, Buffy…what brings you by?" he glanced at his watch, "At three o'clock in the morning…and with a bag," he observed her small suitcase. "You're…planning on staying?"

"Yes-"

"No!" Cordelia answered at the same time Buffy did, then, receiving a no-at-all-pleasant look from the Slayer, rolled her eyes and headed to the front desk to grab her purse.

"I'm off. If he's still not happy by then, beep me in the morning." With that, she exited the hotel.

"What'd she mean by that?" Gunn wanted to know.

"Ahm," Wesley exchanged a quick meaningful glance with his former Slayer, "why don't we…*not* get into that now? So…Buffy, w-what happened? Did something happen in Sunnydale, is everyone all right?"

"Everyone's fine," the Slayer assured, then looked about the lobby, ultimately fixing her eyes back on the former Watcher. "But I don't think you can say the same."

"Wow, the gal's quick," Gunn remarked, chuckling. "She's been here for five seconds and you've been here for how long?"

"Gunn," Wesley interrupted him pointedly, then turned to Buffy, "W-what do you mean?" he rubbed his brow tiredly, attempting to look occupied with *anything* to avoid her eyes.

"You tell me," the blonde responded wryly.

Wesley was at loss. On one hand, he didn't want to let Buffy in on everything, not willing to suffer the consequences of her over-involvement in Angel's life which he knew would happen, but on the other hand…a sixth sense prompted him she was the only one who could pull Angel out of it, whatever *it* was. She hadn't said a word of any importance yet, but Wesley already knew she knew more than all of them did together. "How d-do you know? W-who told you, did someone call you, did…did Angel call you? Does he know you're here?"

"He doesn't know anything," Buffy shook her head. "And no one called me. You didn't, obviously, and between us, Cordelia wouldn't, unless her life was dependant on it…" she frowned thoughtfully, "and even then I'm not sure. Anyway…no one told me anything. I just knew."

"You knew?" the Watcher didn't understand.

Buffy took a deep breath, preparing to explain and also hoping to make it short. "Angel and I…we share dreams, we've always had this…bond."

The former Watcher beheld her with almost fascination, as her words started to wear a meaningful form in his mind. In his years as Watcher, as few as they were, he had seen some extraordinary things, but none could compare the experience of getting to know Angel, or everything he had heard about his relationship with the Slayer. And as it turned out, he hadn't even known that much about it. "So you…you had a dream, about Angel?"

"No. I shared Angel's dream. It's…a long story. Just that it happened before and learning from past experience I knew he was in trouble, or…that something else was wrong. So I came here as fast as I could. I don't know for how long I'll be staying, but right now I'm planning to make it as long as I can to…do what I can to help him."

"I see," Wesley nodded and sighed. "Well…I can only hope you succeed…in…helping him, that is. Because I certainly don't know where to begin, and I don't even know what's wrong. If you expect any help from either of us, I'm sorry to say I have absolutely nothing to offer you. I'm drawing the blank, Buffy. I honestly tried to research something at home-"

"Behind his back?" Gunn cut in.

"Of course," Wesley hissed, then looked back at Buffy. "I tried to look into my books, see if I could find something that might…cause this…strange behavior in him, but…"

"What *is* his behavior?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What's wrong with him?" Buffy rephrased. "What exactly is out of the ordinary?"

"Well…he…tends to sleep a lot. Actually, he sleeps more than he is awake. It's not like him. Also his temper is…well, gets out of control at times…"

"Did he hurt anyone?" Buffy demanded, her heart impulsively skipping a beat from the fear she might be already too late.

"Not…"

"Physically," Gunn completed what Wesley was going to say.

Buffy released a breath of relief.

"He's just…strange," Wesley said, in an obvious lack of other word. "He seems to be ruled by sleep, seems like he's experiencing something, while asleep, that is more important to him than his everyday life, than his mission even. It's like…a drug. It's like he's being controlled by something…"

"Or some*one*," Buffy murmured.

"Excuse me?" he clearly wanted her to repeat that remark.

"Never mind," she brushed it off with a gesture of her hand, then looked back at the Englishman. "Is that it? Is that…everything?"

He shrugged slightly, unsure of what else to say, and Gunn took it as cue to step in.

"He's not fighting," he added to what Wesley had said. "When he's fighting, he's like somewhere else, doesn't care about anything anymore."

"He's disoriented sometimes, like he's not sure he's awake when he *is* awake," the ex-Watcher tried to explain again. "Do you know…what's-"

"Causing it?" Buffy looked up. She held the man's gaze for some time and sighed. "I have my guesses. I don't know how solid they are, but…look, it's not the point now. I wanna talk to him."

"Good luck trying to wake him up," Gunn muttered, glancing up the stairs.

"He's asleep?" the Slayer asked her former Watcher.

"I'm afraid so," he nodded. "Would you like to settle down first?" he suggested, throwing a look over her shoulder at her bag. "We should find you a room and…"

"Later," she interrupted him, then looked up to the second floor, not speaking for several moments, just looking. "I need to see him first."

"Buffy," Wesley touched her arm, drawing her attention, "maybe you should wait…"

"I think I've waited too long as it is. Which room is his?"

"Two-seventeen," the ex-Watcher replied, unsure if he was doing the right thing by allowing it. But by the time he snapped out of his thoughts, the Slayer was already gone.

"Told you she was quick," gun remarked next to him.

Part 3 -

Angel slept. Or he thought he did. He never quite seemed to be sure anymore when he was awake and when he was asleep. His senses could shut down, seemingly in a moment of utmost focus, and he would slip into complete oblivion, without the slightest desire to pull himself back. He didn't even know anymore, he didn't remember if that world was a creation of his own or a place someone else had created for him, where he would always be welcome, but for some reason, never for good, regardless to how much he wanted to stay. He didn't know anymore, when his eyes were open, if what he was seeing was real, or whispers of his very own inner memories even he randomly understood.

He hadn't asked for it, he knew that much. He had asked for peace, yes, but that request always remained unanswered, not that he ever thought he deserved for things to be different… Was that his peace? Was he doomed to relive the horrors of his past until he welcomed them into his dreams, into his life? Was there another way to explain what was happening to him for the past days? Did he truly find comfort in the very same thing he'd been running from for decades…decades that resembled to last longer than centuries?…

Yes, he did.

And he knew he did, and that was what was scaring him the most. How much of the grip he'd had over himself had he lost by now? How had it come to that he was dreaming of his demonic past and enjoying it? How was it that instead of fearing sleep, knowing what he'd have to face once it overcame him, he would welcome it, plead for it, hunger for it? Did he even know himself anymore?…

Angel sighed and stirred, his lids twitching, as the veil of sleep was slowly leaving him. He recognized that feeling only too well; the pain of being ripped out of his sickly sanctuary back into the world of wakening. He hated it, he didn't want it, he didn't *want* out…but he also couldn't fight it. He tried to fight it, again and again, he squeezed his eyes shut, until it hurt, until he felt his eyeballs were going to explode from the pressure. It didn't help. He never learned, he was so drunk in it, he couldn't learn; he wasn't controlling *it*. *It* was controlling him.

And it would keep overpowering him, and reigning him, and consuming him…and in the end, there would be nothing left. Nothing at all. And he knew it. And he welcomed it.

Angel finally gave in and opened his eyes. His vision, blurry at first, descried someone blonde sitting in an armchair opposite to his bed. "Darla?" he whispered weakly, uncertainly.

"Second best," answered a familiar voice, engraved too deep within his soul to be consumed like everything else. "Guess again."

"Buffy," he gasped, as his vision finally cleared up. There she was, the last person he'd expected to see, sitting right there in his room. Her clothes were a little rumpled, indicating she'd been sitting there for quite a while, her legs gathered up to her chest with her arms wrapped loosely around them, her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but Angel noticed she'd changed it from last time. Her eyes were staring at him, mirroring emotions he'd forgotten they could show; pain, confusion…fear…

"What are you doing here?" he finally managed.

"So I'm guessing 'hello' was your second choice, then?" she clearly tried to lighten the disturbing tension that was building up between them.

Angel peered at her for several moments then pulled his covers up to his chest, as though trying to hide from her piercing gaze. "Who let you in?" he sounded more imperious this time.

"My hand," the Slayer broke the ring around her knees and set her feet on the floor, glancing at her right palm. "Apparently, it developed a close relationship with your doorknob. Does that mean we're done with small talk?"

He gulped, as his throat suddenly felt very dry, and averted his gaze for just a moment. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," she shrugged. "Definitely long enough to ask who *else* was here."

His head shot up, "What?"

The Slayer merely released a strained sigh and stood up, stretching to unwind her stiff muscles. Not only was she incredibly tired after everything that had happened, she was also sore allover from sitting in the same pose for about two hours, watching her former lover experiencing what she could only guess to be a very happy dream, the details of which she hoped to be spared. But why hadn't she even tried to wake him up?...

"Get dressed," she told him, heading towards the bathroom, clearly intending to leave him alone for that.

His mouth opened to ask something, but in the last minute, he changed his mind. It didn't matter anyway, since she no longer was there to hear it.

"When I said 'get dressed', I didn't just mean the lower part," Buffy observed pointedly, leaning against the bedroom's doorframe, when a couple of minutes later, Angel entered her sight, topless.

He stopped, looking at her with a strange expression. "If you'd only told me it bothered you so much, our relationship would have lasted much longer," he remarked, grabbing a black shirt from a nearby chair and putting it on.

The Slayer swallowed, her eyes hungrily staring at the last bits of his muscular chest, quickly disappearing behind the flow of buttons. She hadn't seen him in months, and only now realized just how long it had been. But no matter what, nothing could prepare her to what she had to face now. From the moment she first laid eyes on him when she had entered his room, a desire she had forgotten how to feel swept over her. That feeling, tormenting her, burned in her hear and soul, until every cell of her body was on fire.

No, it wasn't bothering her. Of course not. Not one bit. Not at all.

"You want something?" his voice, that didn't even sound to her like *his* voice anymore, tore her from her reverie and she inwardly couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to get so distracted.

"W-what?"

"I asked, if you wanted something," he repeated, unfamiliar irritation coloring his tone this time.

"Oh. No. Nothing. Just you…*to* sit down," she hastened to add, once realizing how wrongly her 'invitation' could be interpreted.

But all fears were knocked out of her when she detected no changes in him whatsoever following that slip. Either he hadn't heard her, or he hadn't listened, or he simply hadn't cared. She wasn't sure which of the three was the worst. Nothing seemed to touch him anymore.

Finally, he joined her, after having finished all his 'errands', which had taken too long for the liking of Buffy's already strained nerves. She gaped at him in disbelief, like a little girl who was seeing a ghost for the first time, when he approached her with a lighted cigarette in his hand.

"What the *Hell* is wrong with you?" she asked, her voice low, somewhat dangerous, but mostly just scared.

Angel looked at her, inhaling the smoke and relishing it in his dead lungs, his eyes glinting with unfamiliar darkness Buffy couldn't overlook even if she *was* trying. "What did you expect to find here?" he asked nonchalantly, exhaling.

"I didn't expect anything." She tried to keep her cool as she spoke. "I came here to help you."

"Help me? With what, exactly? Why would *I* need your help, other than the fact it kinda contradicts your 'stay the Hell away from me' concept."

"We talked about it…"

"No, actually, if you insist on getting all the way back to it, I think our talk pretty much consisted of me apologizing, while you could at least be kind enough to do the same."

"Why are you talking to me like that?" she asked.

Angel groaned. "Like what? Like I want you gone? Well, that could probably be because I want you gone. Look," he took another long blow from the cigarette. "I'm not even gonna pretend to know why you're here. Personally, I *don't* know what you were thinking when you decided to come and *why* you came, but… last time I checked, saving souls was *my* mission."

"Then maybe you should look into it, because it doesn't seem to me you're starring in that field."

"That would be my problem," he retorted evenly. "Let's see it stays that way."

"Well," she shrugged. "Forgive me for caring about you enough to make it *my* problem."

He leaned back, chuckling softly to himself. "So that's what you're thinking about while screwing with soldier-boy. Glad to know I'm so important, it makes me feel so special." All traces of smile disappeared from his face. "Now why don't you get back to that, Buffy, and do us both a favor?"

"I think you're screwing enough for the three of us put together," she hissed.

"What?" he spat, narrowing his eyes dangerously as he drew closer.

The Slayer drew in a deep breath, focusing her entire energy and will power on keeping her boiling anger in check. Letting it erupt now would only make things worse.

Before he was quick enough to respond, she reached forward and yanked the cigarette from his grip, extinguishing it in an already full ashtray. "You'll listen to me now," she began, the tone of her voice leaving no room for discussion, her anger only rising, especially when the vampire appeared to be not at all impressed and simply leaned back in his seat, folding his arms on his chest expectantly. "You think you're gonna pull the self-destructive 'tude on me, and insult me, and it'll scare me?! Newsflash, honey, I've seen you in your worst, so you should know by now, I'm not easily scared. Is that your brilliant plan? To push away all the people who care about you until you're left *completely* alone to feel oh-so-sorry for yourself?! Because, hey, nice go, really, your friends are *deeply* impressed so far."

"Friends?" he sarcastically uttered the word. "Consider my 'friends' gone. I've been meaning to pull it off for a while, I'm getting tired of this crap. They're all fired, it's just a matter of time until I say the words. When I do though, the one who called you is the first to go. I'll be sure to have them thank you later."

"No one called me," she said quietly.

"Really? Then how'd you explain this?" he gestured at her. "You missed me?"

The Slayer held his gaze until he was forced to look away from her. As he did, it was all but visible how all his barriers started to topple one after another.

"Angel," she whispered softly, reaching out to touch him. But before he allowed her fingertips to come in contact with his face, in lightning speed, the vampire's hand closed around her wrist, and Buffy gasped fearfully, her heart speeding up, her mind unable to process the need to struggle out of his iron grip.

Without a word, Angel stood up and pulled her up as well, and without releasing her hand, led her to the door, opened it with his free hand and pushed her out of the room.

Buffy stared at him, as they both stood from opposite sides of the doorway, as his eyes softened back to almost normal, no longer dark, no longer burning, just pained, returning her gaze.

"Stay away," he whispered, and shut the door in her face, locking it from the inside.

It took Buffy several long moments to fully digest everything. She inhaled a deep, very needed, breath and closed her eyes for a second, brushing the tears she'd just become aware of off with her fingers. Her hand reached for the knob, but she pulled it back before she was able to touch it and clasped it in a fist, so tight her knuckles paled.

"Buffy?" a voice behind her spoke and she whirled around in alarm.

"It's okay," Wesley hurried to assure her, "it's just…me. Gunn went home an hour ago. Are you alright?" he asked softly, taking in her shattered expression and red-trimmed eyes. "Not my brightest question, I suppose," he later mused.

The Slayer sighed, wrapping her arms around her middle and leaning back against the locked door. "What did she do to him?" she murmured, only partially aware of her words.

"She? Buffy…"

"Never mind," she waved it off with her hand. "It's just my thoughts…doesn't necessarily have to make sense."

He nodded in reluctant acceptance. He had a very strong feeling she knew more than she had revealed to him, and for Angel's sake at least, he wished she let him in on that information. He knew she would eventually, but he wasn't sure 'better late than never' applied their scenario. "Would you…like to tell me, what you…what Angel dreamt about?" he attempted to bring it up. But failed, as had been expected.

"No," she refused, a bit apologetically. When she looked up at the ex-Watcher, her gaze softened. "Maybe later, Wes, okay?"

"Of course. Take your time, only…perhaps I could help…somehow…if I knew."

"I'm convinced more and more none of us can help. He's…I don't think I know who he is anymore…or what he is…"

"Did you talk to him?" he asked after a beat.

The Slayer sighed. "A part of me wishes I hadn't."

"Yes," he sighed, too, running a hand through his hair. "You won't try again, then. Not…tonight, that is."

"No. Not tonight."

"Good," Wesley nodded thoughtfully. "That's good. I think. I…took your bag, I put it in the room next to his, your key is in the lock," he motioned towards the door in question. "I assumed you'd want to stay as close as possible to him though…I'm not quite sure you want to stay at all anymore," he looked her in the eye.

She waited for a moment before answering, holding his gaze. "I don't."

He nodded in understanding. "Well…I should go now, maybe catch a couple of hours of sleep after all." He headed towards the stairs. After making only few steps, he stopped. "Buffy?" he looked at her over his shoulder. "If you need anything, at all, just call me. You'll find my number in the office. Call me anytime."

She smiled bitterly, "Thanks."

"And Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"If…something changes…call me?"

The smile vanished. "I will. Wes?" she stopped him, just as he was at the head of the stairs. "That new…you…I like it," she offered him another weak smile.

The former Watcher looked down for a moment, as though he was about to blush, then looked back up at her, his expression grave again. "Whatever happens…it's good you're here for him."

Buffy didn't say anything for a moment, then pushed herself from the door and walked into her room.

Angel moved away from the door and let his eyes wander over his room, exhaling a gray cloud of smoke from his lungs, courtesy of his newly lit cigarette. Why did she have to come here?! What was he supposed to do, how was he supposed to deal with her? He couldn't deal with her, not now of all timings. She confused him. She confused him so much even what used to make sense, stopped making it. She made him wake up, that's what had confused him so much, no one had managed to do that before, not like this. He hadn't thought of her almost at all ever since those dreams had begun, it was as thought she had been erased from his mind, from his memories…only to be replaced with *her*. Why did she have to show up like that out of the blue and throw him like that, why couldn't she just let him be?! Why was she trying to save him when he didn't *want* to be saved? Why did she *care* about him?!

And after the way he'd treated her…Angel chuckled, well, he could certainly add *that* to his long and proud list of accomplishments. He couldn't believe she actually *stayed* after all that. No. Of course he could. How could he ever think she wouldn't?

He glanced at the wall to his right, and down on the cigarette in his hand. After a brief hesitation, he walked over to where he'd left the ashtray and put it out. Then he neared the wall that separated their rooms and leaned closer to it.

"Buffy?" he spoke her name, but no answer came from the other side, even after he waited for a while. "I…I'm sorry. I'm sorry about…everything," he spoke anyway, regardless to having not received any sign that she was actually listening. "I don't want to hurt you…God, that's lame," he breathed deeply to clear his lungs. "I don't know what I want. But I know I wanna be alone. I don't need to talk, and I don't need help. All I need from you is to please leave me alone. The way things are now…this is…this is how I want them to be. You wouldn't understand, I don't expect you to, you haven't been a part of...m-me, m-my life for…too long. Just please…please, let me have that. I need that."

Buffy listened some more, hoping to hear his voice again, maybe he would speak some more, maybe he would say something else. But nothing followed. She sighed and leaned back against the wall, letting her body slide to the floor as if she were a spineless puppet. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, inhaling a shaky breath, as a lone tear slowly trickled its way down her cheek.

Part 4 -

He saw her, in the crowd, dozens of people walking by and she was unnoticed by them all, while he…couldn't see anyone *but* her. She stood out for him, while everyone and everything else meshed in the background, like in a dream…or in a nightmare. She wore red. Blood. It made him think of blood, not because it was red, but because it was on *her*. The memory of her blood, pumping through his veins like fire, while his pumping through hers, his entire being reeling in the ecstasy, the crimson liquid stinging him from the inside, refilling him with power, dark, inconceivable power, almost similar to his own. Memories swamped him and there was no escape. And with them came the flashes, vivid flashes, both of dreams and things that had happened centuries ago; pictures, sounds, smells, all real. Just like he knew *she* was. He could scent her, she filled his entire being, brought out in him what he'd been striving for decades to lock in, and he was unable to resist her.

Suddenly another face emerged before his eyes, the face of a small blonde Slayer, and she was gone. And for just one moment, she washed over him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't set himself free, couldn't go back to *her*. Memories merged with memories inside his head, creating turmoil he was unable to cope, until he barely could tell where one ended and the other began. Angel closed his eyes and stumbled backwards, luckily for him, hitting a wall instead of the ground. He opened his eyes again, panting. *She* was gone.

Yawning, the Slayer made her way down the stairs of the Hyperion into the lobby.

"Slept tight?" Cordelia greeted her in her typical manner.

Buffy eyed her quizzically.

The brunette raised her wrist to show her the time, which was a little past ten pm.

"You gotta be kidding me," the blonde muttered. She couldn't believe she'd slept through the entire day, she had never in her life slept like that. Clearly, it could all be the result of everything that had happened before she'd dreamt of Angel and the fact she was unable to fall asleep for over an hour after she'd talked to him. She had been drained, that's for sure, but still…the last thing she was supposed to do at a time like this was sleep. It was one luxury she couldn't afford just yet. God only knew what had happened, what he'd done, while she hadn't been there to watch him.

She looked at Cordelia, who wasn't paying attention to her anymore, but instead was busy with a stack of papers. Then her eyes wandered over to Wesley and Gunn, who had just entered the hotel. Well, at least he hadn't fired anyone yet. That was good…circumstances given.

"Nothing?" the ex-cheerleader asked her two co-workers, as they approached the front desk.

Gunn handed his sword over to her, while Wesley took the tranquilizer out of his pocket and put it in front of him on the counter. They both equally shook their heads, obviously not carrying good news.

"What happened?" Buffy asked, taking in the equally disappointed expression on their faces. "Where is Angel?"

"Angel's gone," Gunn replied evenly. "Your boy's been running lose for about eleven hours now, and no one knows where, or if he's still on the home team at all."

"What?!"

"I don't want to say you shouldn't have gone to sleep, Buffy," her ex-Watcher observed gravely, "but…you might have been...the only one who could have stopped this in time."

"Did you do it with him?!" Cordelia jumped in. "And say the truth, because if you two did the horizontal and you turned him evil again, you know I'll know."

Buffy glared at her. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"Okay, we can rule that out," the brunette mused quietly.

Ignoring her, Buffy turned to Wesley, "Why didn't you wake me up?! What-what were you thinking?? What happened?"

"We didn't…see the need, at first," he attempted to excuse the inexcusable, *knowing* what they had done was wrong. "Then it was too late anyway…"

"*Now* is too late!" she yelled at him. "*What* happened?!"

The trio glanced anxiously from one to another, as if trying to decide which one would be doomed to tell her. Finally, Wesley sighed, resolved to take it on himself. "We had a case today," he began in the beginning. "We were supposed to follow that woman…her husband told us she was being abducted by aliens on regular basis, but he suspected there was more to it than she said." He sighed again, becoming more anxious as he was nearing the point. "In the hotel, where we were watching her, Angel spotted a woman, he attacked her right there, quite brutally even, out of nowhere, and kept calling her Darla…his Sire…"

"Darla…" Buffy repeated the name in a whisper, her eyes wandering off the former Watcher, who continued with the story.

"Yes. Well, he achieved nothing but scaring the poor woman out of her skin, if not worse, who by the way, ran out of the hotel into *direct sunlight*. After we came back here, he started acting even…stranger than normally, kept insisting she was Darla, that he needed to find her…I tried to tell him he wasn't being rational, that she couldn't possibly be his Sire…he wouldn't hear reason, he wouldn't listen. After a while, he just took off. No one has seen him since."

"Why?" Buffy cut him.

"Why…" he appeared to be confused for a second, unsure as to what she meant, "well…he staked her, as far as I know, you were there, you saw it…"

"So what?"

"Vampires can't come back from the dead…"

"Yes they can," she kept insisting, the look in her eyes told him nothing he would say could convince her otherwise. "He did. I-I killed him. I sent him to Hell, and he came back to me."

Wesley looked at her for a moment, not knowing what to say. She had just brought up the same argument Angel had. "But she was human, Buffy," he tried helplessly.

She nodded. "What did you tell him?"

"Told him?" he didn't understand.

"When he kept saying it was Darla, what did you tell him?" she repeated the question, slower this time.

"I…told him he was hallucinating, that…he couldn't possibly be right, it couldn't be true. I tried to be as level headed as I could about It, but…Buffy…it was madness. He was…"

"*He* was madness," Cordelia remarked. "That's pretty much what *I* told him. He's crazy, he lost it, he needs help. Serious help. Pronto. You should have seen-"

"Oh my God," the Slayer murmured, walking away to the center of the lobby, bringing her hand to her forehead as though heaving a sudden headache.

"Buffy…" Wesley began cautiously, but she cut him off, sharply whirling around to face them again.

"Do you even realize what you did?! How could you?! How could you do that?!"

"Do what, I…"

"You all should have stood by him, you should have supported him! You knew the state he was in, he was on the edge, y-you should have believed him, no matter how irrational what he was saying was! You should have believed him until *beyond a shadow of a doubt* he's proven wrong! And he wasn't! He wasn't proven wrong!"

"What?" the former Watcher made a step towards her, but she recoiled from him, swiftly holding her hand out, palm up.

"I thought we covered that part with 'walked into direct sunlight'," Cordelia muttered, but it was clear even she wasn't convinced anymore they had chosen the right approach to handle the situation. Buffy had too strong a point.

"Shut up!" the Slayer snapped, holding a menacing finger in her direction. She was too confused to think rationally in that point. After her fight with Angel, she had been devastated, but later, when he had tried talking to her through the wall between their rooms, she couldn't help harboring at least the tiniest spark of hope that she could still reach him. And now…now that spark had extinguished completely. She was more at loss now than she'd ever been.

"Excuse me?! Who do you think-"

"Cordelia!" this time, Wesley was the one to quite her.

She glared at him, then at the Slayer, her eyes dark and angry. "Look, Ms-know-it-all, *you* weren't there, *we* were! You don't know what happened, *we* do! So don't tell us how we should have acted, okay?! No one gave you a lecture after you jumped his bones on your birthday and he went out on a killing spree among your friends!"

Buffy stared at her, a once deeply buried hurt slowly creeping into the rage in her eyes. "You're right," she said finally, her voice more even and composed now. "You were there, I wasn't. *You* screwed it up. *I* wouldn't have. I've done my share of mistakes, Cordelia, and yes, the worst of them was ripping the man I loved from his soul, and that's something I'll *never* forgive myself for. I *don't* need you to remind me. But it *doesn't* change the fact that what you did…I don't know if it can be repaired now, I *don't* know!" her voice kept rising practically with every word. "He needed you guys the most, he needed you to trust him, or at least give him the damned benefit of the doubt, and you gave him nothing! He's more lost now than he's ever been thanks to you, do you even get that?!"

No one said anything. No one could even look at her.

Ultimately, she spoke again, glancing at the door, "I'm going to-" she never finished the sentence though, because that very moment, the door slowly opened and, oblivious to everyone, the vampire in question walked through it into the hotel.

"Angel," Buffy said his name, but he didn't even look at her, or at his employees, just continued his way towards the staircase, clearly heading to his room.

"Angel!" she caught up with him and grabbed his arm, turning him to face her.

"Let go," he muttered, in a low, threatening voice, though his facial expression hadn't changed one bit from impassive and he, still, wasn't looking at her.

"No," the Slayer shook her head resolutely.

"I'm warning you, Buffy," he hissed. "I'm not in the mood for games, let go of me."

"That's just fine by me, because I'm not in the mood to play any." She didn't give even the slightest impression she was about to obey him.

Suddenly, his eyes locked with her, as a low growl rumbled up his throat, his features shifting into those of a vampire, as he ripped his arm out of her grip and in a flash, had her sliding across the floor, in such strength, she only stopped when her head hit the stairs.

Nobody moved. He stood there, his expression becoming more shocked by the second as he kept staring at her unmoving body, not even aware of his face morphing back to human form. "Buffy," he gasped, so quietly, no one but him heard it.

"That's it," Gunn grabbed the tranquilizer gun from the counter behind him, not taking his eyes from the vampire, aimed at his back and released the trigger.

Angel instantly span around, not only showing no signs of pain, but also showing no signs whatsoever the drug was in any way working. All traces of fear and confusion vanished from his face as he began advancing upon the African-American.

"Didn't work," Gunn observed, rapidly producing a stake from his back pocket, set and ready for the upcoming attack. "I bet this will."

"Put that down!" Buffy's firm voice stopped him, and everyone, Angel included, fixed their eyes on her, standing a few feet away from them, thick trail of crimson blood trickling from a deep gash in her right brow, where her head had collided with the step. "Don't you dare touching him," she told Gunn, who was still holding the stake in his hand, leaving no room for arguments. "He wants to fight so much?" she turned to look at Angel and wiped the blood from her brow with the back of her hand, staining her sleeve in the process, though the flow soon resumed. "You wanna kick ass…by all means, be my guest. But you're gonna have to pick someone your own size. Come on," she opened her arms invitingly.

"I think she got the size part a little out of-ow!" Cordelia's eyes flashed angrily at Wesley, who had just nudged her side.

Angel just stared at her, while his employees all but had their breath caught in their throat. "I won't touch you," he finally said, and it almost seemed that the humanity was gradually returning to his bloodshot dark orbs.

She laughed, but wasn't at all amused. "Last time I checked, it was a *little* too late for that statement of chivalry. Come on, Angel," she motioned at herself again, "punch it out. Clearly, talking isn't your stronger side nowadays, so I say we move on to something we both *still* have in common. Kick my ass!"

The vampire looked at her for another long minute, then spun around, heading back to the door the way he'd come.

"Oh, no, you don't!" the Slayer ran after him and grabbed his arm again, whirling him around as though he were half his size and weight. Before he could do anything, her fist connected with his face in a force that would have broken the bone if he were human.

He stumbled backwards, slightly astonished, wiping his split lip.

"You want out? The *only* way is through me," she said.

"Maybe we should-"

"Shut up and watch, Wesley," Cordelia pulled her co-worker back to her side. "I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but she knows what she's doing. If anyone can knock it out of him, it's her, and if she picks the…literal approach…so be it."

The Englishman glanced at her in disbelief, then looked back at vampire and Slayer, who still hadn't moved to start fighting. "Yes," he mused after a beat, "I presume she does. He's standing on the line now."

"So question is," Gunn continued his thought for him, "on which side is he gonna fall?"

That moment, Angel delivered his first blow.

"I can't!" he yelled, delivering another punch, which the Slayer ducked, sticking her leg out for him to trip over and he landed on his back, not paying attention. Buffy jumped on him, but he grabbed her shoulders, shoving her off of him on her back and closing up on her with his thighs, pinning her to the ground.

Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn were staring at the two with utter fascination. They'd been going at it for over fifteen minutes now and didn't seem to appear worn out at all, or close to finishing it.

"You can't what?" she punched his face, sending him flying across the hall and setting herself free, jumping up to her feet.

"I can't free from her," he ripped the remnants of his shirt off of him and tossed it to the floor, making a swift comeback himself and attacking the Slayer again. "I see her, I feel her, I want her, I *need* her!" he punched her, causing her drop to the ground, but she kicked him off when he was about to nail her again.

"She fills my head," he grabbed Buffy's shoulders, shaking her and brutally throwing her to the floor, "my mind, she controls me and I cant resist, she's inside," he landed on her again and she kneed him off, jumping up and kicking his gut.

"She's outside," Angel huffed, "she's everywhere and she's nowhere! I can't stop thinking about her, I can't get her out!" he regained his balance, round kicking the Slayer in her middle just when she was about to wipe the floor with him again. "I fall asleep only because I *know* she'll come to me, I can't make her leave, I don't *want* to!" his fist connected with Buffy's face. When he was about to strike again, she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, causing him to release a strangled cry.

She kneed him off of her, releasing his arm and he turned on his heel, flying them both to the ground. "I can't tell this to anyone, they all think I'm crazy, and maybe I am! I know I am," he panted, as she punched him from her, rolling over and straddling him with her legs, delivering a second punch in his nose. "I *know* she's not there, and I *know* she's not real, I killed her," he said, averting his eyes from the Slayer, as his arms loosely landed on the floor by the sides of his body, indicating he had lost interest in the fight. "I shoved a stake through her heart," he whispered, still not looking at Buffy, and the Slayer slowly, carefully, climbed off of him. "She's not real," he continued, his voice unchanging, the same distant whisper, only now a tear started making its way from the corner of his eye into the lobe of his ear.

Buffy looked at him, her gaze softening, her own eyes tearing up as she folded her legs under herself and sat down next to his still lying body, gingerly picking up his hand and cradling it in his own.

Angel's eyes remained far away from her, as if she weren't there at all. "And at the same time…she's more real than anything now…she's always…*always* there," his eyes finally locked with the Slayer's and she emitted a sigh of pure relief, when she found them filled with nothing genuine fear and pain.

"Help me," he whispered, as his chest, formerly rising up and down as his lungs pumped for air he didn't need, suddenly stilled again.

She let go of his hand and reached for his shoulders, bringing his body up and wrapping it with her arms, hesitantly at first, but more confidently when he gave in and rested his head on her chest.

Buffy took a deep breath and tightened his embrace, securing her arms around his beaten back, her own bruises suddenly becoming perceptible as pain she hadn't been aware of before shot through her body. But she only closed her eyes, cradling him closer, digging her fingers in his wet hair.

"What the Hell?" an outside voice from the door tore into the deathly silence that seemed to have settled down on the entire hotel.

Part 5 -

"Riley," Buffy managed to squeeze out the name, as her eyes found the ones of her boyfriend's over Angel's head.

As soon as the vampire heard her pronounce that word, he stiffened in her arms and pulled himself together as if nothing had happened, drawing back from her and climbing to his feet. Without throwing Riley even a glance, he headed up to his room.

Snapping back to reality but still confused, Buffy stood up herself and ran after him. "Angel, wait!" she asked, but he wouldn't stop. He didn't even turn around. "Angel, please stop," she pleaded, standing at the bottom of the stairs, having given up chasing him all the way to his room, knowing it wouldn't do any good anyway. If he wanted her to come, he'd make at least a tiny effort to let her know that.

But he didn't answer. He kept walking, until he disappeared from her sight completely, and she soon heard his door being slammed behind him.

Buffy sighed heavily and hung her head in defeat, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Are you ever going to explain this?" her boyfriend asked behind her.

She slowly raised her head, but didn't turn around to look at him. "What did you do?" she hissed, biting her lip as she realized more and more the full meaning of just what he'd done.

"What-"

She span around, surprising him so much, he almost jumped back. "You have any idea what you did?! I was *so* close-" she pursed her lips, averting her eyes for a second. "You don't have a clue what you've just ruined. You can't even *begin* to conceive…wait here," she instructed, and began climbing up the stairs. In the middle of the staircase, she stopped and turned around. "Don't move," she warned him. "Wait here until I get back."

Riley didn't even get the chance to protest before she, too, was gone.

"Can I come in?" the Slayer peeked into the vampire's room, holding the door open just a little, but making sure to stand outside, until he allowed her to enter, anyway.

No answer came.

"Angel?" she tried again. "Please…can I come in? Just for a minute, I promise. Please?"

"Fine," he whispered, but didn't turn around.

Buffy walked in and sat next to him down on the bed.

They didn't say a word for several minutes, then Angel sighed, stretching out his hands and cupping his knees with his palms. "Shouldn't you…be with *him* now?" After a beat, he added, "I bet he wants answers."

"I'm sure he does," the Slayer acknowledged. "And I probably should." She took a deep breath and turned to look at him. "Angel…I need you to know…I will help you through this. I need you to trust me. I won't let…*it* consume you anymore. I will stop it. I'll find a way. I promise you."

He nodded. "You should go."

She nodded, too. "I'll be back. Tonight. I'll be back. I'll stay here with you."

He looked at her strangely.

"We'll figure it out. Together. Okay?"

He didn't answer, just kept looking at her. His eyes almost as soft and soulful as she'd remembered them…the very same eyes she could drawn in without even noticing. And without even noticing, her hand carefully reached up for her face, as if guided with a will of its own, and her palm gently cupped his cheek, brushing over it for a long moment in which he, too, seemed to be absent from the real world.

But then he came back, darting away from her touch and awkwardly averting his gaze from hers. "Go," he whispered.

And she did.

The first person who approached her when she descended down the stairs was, surprisingly, Cordelia. She held an ice pack in her hand and offered it to Buffy, motioning with her free hand at her own forehead.

The Slayer eyed her with slight disbelieving frown, then accepted the offering and put the bag to her gash, which was barely bleeding now. She sighed, as the soothing cold penetrated through her skin, seemingly, into every part of her being. The fight with Angel started taking its toll on her and there were very few places in her body that *didn't* hurt.

"You okay?" Cordelia asked, obviously being 'nice and caring' towards Buffy wasn't one of her stronger sides and was just as strange to her as it was to the Slayer.

"Peachy," the blonde grimaced slightly.

"I only care about you because you helped Angel, just so you know," the brunette pointed out. "For me, you're still and always will be a walking time bomb."

Buffy gave her a look. "I'll keep that in mind, Cordelia. And…next time, when you decide to care about Angel, it'll be a good idea if you…*cared* about him."

Cordelia frowned at that, clearly not seeing the hidden not-so-subtle hint in the Slayer's words. At least, not yet, since she let it drop without a typical comeback. "I'll go check on him now…he probably looks as bad as you do."

"I appreciate the compliment," Buffy smirked, "but I think you better stay here."

The ex-cheerleader put her hands on her hips, throwing the Slayer a challenging look, "Says king-you?"

"Cordelia," she inhaled a deep breath. "Find something else to do. You've done enough for Angel today, *please* leave him alone. I'll finish with Riley and I'll go up and check on him myself."

"Nice priorities you got there," Cordelia remarked dryly.

Though she saw Cordelia's point, and even agreed with it up to a certain extent, she still wouldn't let her enjoy even the smallest victory. "Just stay out of Angel's room. Leave him to me."

"Yes, Sir, Jesus…" the brunette mocked, pushing her way past the Slayer up the stairs.

Buffy groaned as she watched her go. As much as she might have changed over the past year…some things were embedded too deep within the Cordelia Chase official trademark to ever be removed.

"You think you can squeeze me into your tight schedule for the next five minutes?" Riley's voice drew her attention and she revolved to face him.

"It seems like you already squeezed yourself in, Riley," she remarked, making the rest of her way down the stairs. "You know, the concept of *calling* before showing up…you *really* gotta look into it."

"So that I won't interrupt another *intense* session between you and your ex-lover next time around?" he shot back.

"Don't even go there, Riley, just *don't*!" she glared at him. "Dammit, this isn't about you, this is about a person I care for, who needs help, *my* help, so get over yourself!"

"A person, ha?"

"Why did you come here?" Buffy asked, sitting down on the first step, not even contemplating over entering another debate concerning Angel's vampirism with her boyfriend.

He looked down at her, "I was worried about you."

"So that's how you call it nowadays," she muttered, mocking his excuse, then looked up at him, fed up. "Well, you know what, Riley, I've always been an old fashioned gal, so how about we stick to 'jealous'? I can't believe you. You're just…you're unbelievable! You weren't worried about me, you came here to *check* on me, do you know how low this is, how it makes me feel?"

"Buffy…"

"Don't Buffy me!" she cut him, not interested in whatever he had to say for himself. "You came here to check on Angel and me, and *this* is beneath low! You blew up something so gigantic today with your movie-style entrance that I *still* don't know if I wanna be in the same room with you! This is just…too much," she held up her free hand in a gesture of complete disbelief.

"This is too much? When I walked in here and saw my *girlfriend* on the floor, hugging her ex-lover in a little *too* friendly manner, *that* was too much. You take off without even bothering to leave me a *note*, and you know what, yes! When I found out you went to Angel, yes, it pissed me off!"

"You *found out*?" she narrowed her eyes, then a realization struck her. "It was Xander, wasn't it? Just wait till I get my hands on him…"

The ex-commando nodded bitterly, combing a hand through his sandy hair. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, clearly hurt by her dishonesty.

She shot him a look, "Well, gee, Riley, I don't know! To avoid *this* maybe?! I've answered your question, why don't you answer mine; why do I always have to feel inadequate with you, why do I have to feel I'm not doing enough for you, *why*, after a year of relationship, I'm *still* not trusted?! Why do I need permission from the-man-of-the-house to see my ex?!"

"Buffy, stop that…"

"No, I won't stop that! I finally started it, so I don't see how stopping is in order until I *finish* it! God, I…" she winced, bringing her other hand to her head as well. "I can't do this now," she muttered, then looked up at her boyfriend. "Riley, you came in the worst possible time. I can't argue now, I really can't okay? We're not gonna have a nice small chat now, we're on a one way street to a not-very-nice very big argument. My head feels like my head is gonna jump out of my ears any second now, and that aside, I have to be with Angel…"

"Angel? So this *is* about him?"

"God, did you hear what I've just said?! I can't fight with you now, okay? Please, let's make a rein check and insult Angel later? How about when I get back home?"

He smiled, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. "I don't think I'm gonna wait for the never-gonna-happen, Buffy. And I don't wanna fight."

"Well, it just happens that you lack a choice. In both," she stated, rising up.

"You're not coming back," he remarked, at the same time let down and not so surprised. "You won't leave him. Not again."

The Slayer stopped after only several steps and whirled around.

Her boyfriend finally sat down with a heavy sigh, after having been standing the entire time. Without directing his gaze at her, he went on, "You know, the way…the way you were holding him when I walked in on…when I walked in, I could feel it. I could feel what you felt, what he felt. You'll never know how much seeing that hurt me."

"What are you saying?" she inquired carefully. "What are you talking about?"

He laughed dryly. "A year ago, I would have probably attributed it all to some kind of mind controlling power that he has over you, that you get some sick thrill from a close relationship with the dark and the brooding. I know better now though."

"Do you?" she challenged, folding her arms on her chest, clearly not liking his usage of words.

Riley eyed her for a moment, inhaling a deep breath. "Do you love me?" he struck.

She just stared.

"Buffy please, answer me. I'll go, I promise. I just need to know the truth…need to know it from you."

"Go? Riley, I…I care about you…a lot, I…"

"No, Buffy," he stood up. "Not *care*. Love. This is what I wanna know. I already know…especially after what I saw tonight, but…I gotta hear you say it."

"You don't know anything," she hissed.

"Buffy, it shouldn't be that hard," he chuckled ruefully, "when your boyfriend asks you that question, it should take you less then a second to answer-"

"Well, then you should have said 'start'," she remarked harshly.

He only looked at her, not saying anything at that.

She swallowed, as the child in her still innocently wondered how come her eyes weren't even tearing up, how she could still breathe…how come she didn't feel like dying. While the woman knew. "I don't," she whispered.

His lips curved in a bitter knowing half-smile. "I know. I've always known. Just like I've always known how much I loved you. Well…I thought I did, but I guess you can't really say you love someone when they don't love you back. You…hadn't been mine long before I claimed you. I thought I could…take someone that belonged to another and *make* it mine… Dammit, he's a lucky son of a bitch," he sat down again.

"I don't wanna lose you, Riley," she said softly, but didn't make a move to come closer, or to touch him.

"And I wanna gain you. Ever. But that's never gonna happen, is it? Besides, isn't it better for you this way?" he motioned up the stairs. "Soulmate's waiting."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You really love him so much?" he wanted to know.

"It doesn't matter. We can't be together, Riley, you know that. That I love him, or that he loves me…it doesn't matter."

"Sure you can. You'll find a way, Summers," he grinned weakly. "You two can't stay away from each other even when you are away. And it does matter. It matters to me. If I had any resemblance to a brain inside of me, I would have held on to that tiny piece of dignity I still got left and disappeared through that door. I guess I prefer not to leave loose ends behind. Not of that kind, anyway. So…no more secrets. Okay? Just answer the question."

Without hesitation, she nodded. "I always have. I always will. It's not something I can switch on and off, it's not something I can control…it's just me. The real me." She laughed, leaning against the wall. "What can I say, you're the only vampire hunter who hooked up with the only girl who's ready to give her life for a vampire. Ironic ha?"

"Yeah," he stood up, "but not exactly my choice of words," he remarked. "Tell the real you…good luck, when you see her. Cuz I never had the pleasure."

"Riley, wait, please…" she started after him, but he turned around, signifying her to stop right where she was. "It's okay. It's fine, don't…feel bad or anything. I'm fine. After living for a year with his shadow hovering over me, I'd better be. I'm glad it's over like this though. I'm glad you told me. If you ever get back to Sunnydale…don't look me up."

"I need you," she whispered, somewhat pleadingly.

"No," he said, smiling, stopping one last time by the door. "Not me."

Part 6 -

When, several minutes later, Buffy returned to Angel's room like she'd promised, she found him in bed, clearly having been asleep for quite a while. She sighed, inwardly cursing herself for having not listened to her instincts and left him alone to talk to Riley. Her feelings concerning Riley were still unclear to her, breaking up never came easy, even in a case where nothing really held a couple together. It would take time…but it was a time she didn't have. And the time she'd taken to break up with her currently former boyfriend she also should have never wasted.

The Slayer neared the bed and turned the lights on, not even trying to keep quiet. "Angel," she shook his shoulder.

No response.

"Angel, come on, you know I won't give up until I wake you. Open your eyes, Angel, come on. Angel," she shook his both shoulders, and a bit more intensely than the last time.

"No!" his eyes flashed open and he fixed on her, clearly not seeing *her* at first.

"It's me," Buffy said softly, letting go of him at once. "It's just me, it's okay."

"Why?" he mumbled, beginning to gradually return to the real world as he pushed himself up on his elbows. "Why are you…"

"I promised you, didn't I?"

"You're not going home," he observed, even though it was more of a question he needed *her* to answer than a mere observation.

The Slayer frowned, "Who or what gave you *that* idea?!" he looked her in the eye for a moment, until she sighed knowingly. "He didn't come to take me home. And even if he did…I wouldn't go with him. I promised you I was staying…remember?"

The vampire sighed and sat up, cautious not to move his covers too much. He peered at Buffy pointedly for several seconds before she grasped what he had in mind.

"Right," she muttered, and uncomfortably stepped back, retreating into the bathroom. She couldn't believe she'd actually forgotten he was sleeping naked, *especially* after she'd insisted on him being fully dressed just the other day.

"I'm done," she heard him say after a minute and came out.

"I'm…" she tried to say something, but Angel walked right past her, as if she were invisible, towards his kitchenette. The words died on the tip of her tongue as she was looking after him, eventually fixing her eyes on his broad back. "You're…hungry?"

He didn't answer. Instead, asked a question of his own, "You fought with Riley, didn't you?"

That direct question stunned her, coming from him, especially in a time like this, it was only *too* strange. "W-what…no!" she protested, though the tone of her voice alone convinced neither of them. Still, it wasn't the time to discuss her relationship, or the lack of, with Riley, and it certainly wasn't thew time to discuss these things with *Angel*. Though she knew that if his feelings were half as serious as hers, he'd be thrilled to have Riley out of *their* way, but he would also be sorry, for her, for having lost what he'd thought he'd left her for. Either way, he *didn't* need that now.

"Nothing's changed between Riley and me, if you really wanna know. We're the same as we've always been."

"You forget something," he interrupted her before she could go on, walking back to the bed with two steaming cups of coffee. Offering one to the Slayer, he put his on the nightstand. "You can't lie to me," he muttered, as he sat down next to her. "Not even if we're ex's."

Buffy allowed a tiny smile to light her eyes for one moment. "I'm not lying to you. I just…don't wanna make an issue out of something that's not…an issue."

"If you wanna talk…"

"Hey," she looked up. "I'm supposed to be taking care of *you*, remember?"

His nod came out a bit more strained than he'd predicted it to, and he looked away from her, abstractly reaching for his coffee.

"What happened to you? Angel!" she took the cup from his increasingly shaking hands just before it was about to slip to the floor.

Angel gasped, seemingly in surprise, then closed his eyes, taking his time to collect himself.

"Angel?" Buffy hesitantly reached for one of his hands, but he pulled it back as if from fire.

His eyes flew open, but he didn't look at her.

"You look like you're gonna explode if you don't scream, Angel, what is it?"

"It's you," he mumbled.

"Me? You…wanna yell at me?"

"You make me do this," he stood up, making a few steps away from her, facing her with his back. "You make me control myself." He span around, for some reason, breathing heavily, "I don't want to!"

Buffy leaned forward and held out her hand, clearly waiting for him to take it. Finally, he did and she pulled him back, not letting go until he sat down.

"You wanna lose control," she observed, "because that's what you've been doing…with her. You lost control. You lost…you. And you liked it."

"How do you know?" he looked at her. "You…you believe me?"

She nodded, smiling slightly, "I do. I know you, Angel, in spite of what you think, and…you're *not* crazy."

"Aren't I?" he laughed. "Even I don't know that. I don't know anything anymore."

"Angel," she took his hand, and this time he didn't dart back from her touch, but embraced it, squeezing her hand back and lacing his fingers with hers. "What's happening to you is not your fault. You're not making anything up."

"Not what Wesley says. According to him, I only see her because I dream about her, and I only dream about her because I feel guilt…and I feel guilt because I killed her," his words died away with the last words.

The Slayer swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand that. I-I know that. You…share a bond-"

"No," the vampire interrupted her abruptly, "not a bond. She…she was my Sire. She *made* me. No matter how much I pray I could return this gift, it's *her* gift. She made me…for a hundred and fifty years, she molded me into what I am, the demon in me, and maybe the man, too. She…" he paused, suddenly needing to clear his lungs. "For a century and a half we shared everything…we were one. *She* was everything, just she and the thrill of the kill. Then I got my soul back, and I lost her. And when she came back…I staked her," he looked at Buffy and whispered, "for you."

She pulled her hand from his and averted her eyes. For the first time, she was really afraid she wouldn't be able to cope what she'd taken upon herself. She wondered if she hadn't made a too crucial mistake overestimating her abilities or her power over him. What if she was facing someone who possessed twice her power?…

But she couldn't go back now. She wouldn't let herself. She wouldn't let whatever's being done to him to go on, not if she could help even a little. But could she go forward?…

"I'm sorry," Buffy whispered.

"What?"

"That you had to kill her. I'm sorry it had to come to that. I know…Hell, I *don't* know." She looked up, right into his eyes. "I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you. You…loved her…"

"Loved her? Where did you get that idea?…"

She didn't understand. "I thought…"

"You think I lied to you?" he brought forward a memory from almost two years ago without needing to use the exact words.

"No," she whispered, but inside, wasn't entirely convinced. She couldn't help but suddenly contemplate over the possibility of Angel having feelings towards his Sire he wasn't showing. But he shattered that thought before it could take actual form in her mind.

"I never loved Darla. God, Buffy, I was a soulless demon, love…wasn't even the last thing on my mind. We…shared…something, but…"

"So what was it?"

"I can't explain. There's…there's too much to explain. And even if I could…you wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't," she echoed sarcastically.

"Buffy…"

She stopped him with a gesture of her hand. "You said you…needed her. Why did you need her?"

"Because she could make it all go away," Angel replied, without even needing to mull over the answer. "I'm a two-hundred-and-forty-eight-years-old vampire with a soul. And when she's here, she makes everything go away, makes everything stop. I suddenly don't have centuries of murder and mayhem to atone for, because I don't feel human enough to care. She…she makes the nightmares, my *worst* nightmares, so pleasant I crave for *seconds* of sleep. She lifts every burden, takes away every pain, every emotion, She…"

"Makes you soulless again," Buffy finished for him. After a spell, she asked, "Is this what you want? To lose your soul? To let everything you've been working so hard to achieve to just go down in flames? That's not you, Angel."

"It's not? You don't know that. *I* don't know that. Maybe it is what I want? Maybe I *want* the pain to stop?!" he stood up. "In those dreams, she shows me a world I tried to forget I ever knew, a world I repressed, a world with no suffering, no pain…no soul, no conscience…no nothing. And she makes me like that world allover again, long for it, crave it like a drug!"

"That's not…Angel, your soul is precious…"

"My soul is Hell! It's pain, and it's torment, *constant* torment, the magnitude of which you can't even conceive! I told you once already, Buffy, you don't know what it's like to have done everything I've done and care, and you don't. You have no idea," he said quietly, his eyes glazing with tears.

She stood up and walked up to him, not speaking, just acting. They were caught in each other's eyes for a moment, before she finally wrapped her arms around him.

"No," she sniffed, pulling back after a while, "I really have none. But even if I don't know this, I do know you. And you don't really want it. It hurts, Angel, I know. It'll always hurt. But it's good. Every good thing comes with the price of pain. Believe me, I know. And you know, too. You're not ready to give it up."

"That's the problem," he made a step back. "I'm not so sure anymore."

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, until the mysterious silence started to disturb even Angel himself. "This is impossible."

"Oh really?" he asked, though not quite clear as to what she was referring to at that point.

"No, Angel, not…not you. I don't mean you. I mean what's happening to you. It's clear someone wants you to slip."

"Slip?" he was still a little thrown from the sudden change of subject.

"This isn't guilt, Angel. You're…" she paused, trying to come up with the right words to explain herself as subtly as possible. "What you did happened years ago, it's a little unreal for the gilt to only hit you now. You're not doing it to yourself, someone is doing it to you. Whatever *it* is, anyway. Someone wants to drive you over the edge, a little at a time, because they want you to *willingly* give up your soul. And what's worse, these guys, whoever they are, seem to know what they're doing," she motioned at him, as if to prove her words.

Angel chuckled, "What are you saying, someone goes through all the trouble to make me so screwed up I'll start seeing my Sire wherever I go? I *saw* her, Buffy. It wasn't a dream, I saw her…" he sat down, the confidence in his orbs dissolving into nothing. "I don't know what I saw."

"No, it's worse than that," she brushed off his doubts. "Think. Who that you know might have the resources and the power needed to bring her back?"

"What?!" he almost jumped to his feet in surprise, but Buffy held him down. It was true he had supposed the same thing just a while ago, but hearing it from someone else…only made him see just how ridiculous it sounded.

"Listen to me," she insisted. "I felt her presence, I have been ever since I came. She's here, all right, it takes a Slayer to know. You wouldn't notice in a million years, anyway. They made sure to mess up your mind so bad you wouldn't know the difference between night and day. But I can. And I *felt* her, Angel. And what's even more weird…I think she's alive. And I mean it in full sense of the word."

Angel just stared.

Part 7 -

He watched her, as she slept, seemingly completely unaware of her surroundings, lost deep in the land of dreams. Whether she was also unaware of him…that he didn't know.

They had kept talking into the night, they were still talking, when he got up to draw the curtains together when the black of the horizon started melting into the pink and orange of the impending dawn. They hadn't only talked about Darla. In fact, they had finished talking about Darla about three hours after she'd woken him up. The conversation just veered itself towards different subjects than his Sire, without them being able, or wanting, to control it. They talked about him, about her, about the so many things they had missed in each other's life for the past two years. She told him about Riley. It took her a while to even want to talk about it, but even though he had to admit, he wasn't the best conversation partner last night, he somehow managed to make her talk. The entire time she spoke, and he listened, at least when he was able to keep his mind clear enough to keep focus on her, he couldn't help but feel he was the first and only person to know about at least ninety percent of everything she was telling. A part of him wondered how come she'd never opened up to anyone, to Giles, to Willow…even to Xander. But maybe what he really wanted to know was just how much they all could have changed for her to keep up the parade that was her relationship with Riley for over a year without telling either one of them the truth. She had changed, too, he noticed. She had changed a lot since the little high school girl he remembered standing in the fog and watching him go with tearful eyes. He still held a distinct memory of that girl, which made it even harder to learn that the woman she had become had buried most of her qualities so deep, they became unreachable even for her.

She had changed so much…and so had he. After having been one for such a long time, they found themselves colliding in some aspects, and they both knew the reason for that was that what used to be in common between them once had been pushed back to the darkest corner of their minds. He had thought for some time he was the only one who was spending hours atop hours just looking at her picture, but he knew now it wasn't true. She had been doing the same, in her own way, only that her way, instead of reflecting upon the couldn't be, was to plainly burn *his* picture out of her memory. They'd both made an effort to forget, both *wanted* to forget, and at the same time, didn't. And they had changed, both by nature and by force, all to erase the painful memory of everything that used to be.

And now he was watching her, watching her sleep, just like he'd done countless times, for hours, from the windowsill in her bedroom, from the spot next to her on his own bed in the mansion on Crawford Street, or his apartment…in a day that never happened, and she was still the most beautiful sight in the world. Looking at her sleep had even chased Darla so far out of his mind that even traces of her memory became barely perceptible.

Ironically, she had been the one who'd made it her mission to keep him awake through the night, but she was also the one who had been first taken over by sleep in the end, while he had strangely found himself too fascinated with her to be able to close his eves. Even for Darla. When he watched her sleep…everything ceased to exist, like a frozen image, of only her sleeping. Every time she stirred, or sighed, or moaned, memories swept over him, feelings awakened that, in many ways, hurt him thousands times more than any memory of his past. He had clearly needed to see her, like that, submerged in the innocence of sleep, to realize just how much he had missed her all that time. He remembered what he'd told her, how the thoughts of Darla prevented him from feeling anything else because they possessed the ability to rob him from his essence of humanity. What he hadn't told her though was that *she* was the only one who was somewhat able to stop his pain just by making him *human*. Or maybe he just hadn't realized…that only with her he felt…forgiven.

She sighed again, yawning, and he perceived the rhythm of her heart gradually speeding up, back to full awakening, and he couldn't help the irrational drive to do *anything* just to stop her from waking up. Another soft sigh escaped her lips and she burrowed her face into his armpit, curling up against him until she fitted perfectly in his arms once again. Somehow over the night, too asleep to pay attention, she managed to bring herself from across the bed right into his arms. And though he was awake the entire time, he hadn't even tried once to stop her or to keep her away. It felt too right to be wrong, he lacked the strength in him to resist something so natural. He'd kept fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her, and in that, at least, he'd succeeded, even when her body language practically begged for him to. But she still wouldn't stop. And it seemed to him that while she was living a dream, she really didn't know what she was doing because she was too free, too at peace, both with him and with herself, for her actions to come from consciousness. He didn't know whether that fact saddened him or honed his awareness of their reality, just that he never wanted her to wake up. Because when she as asleep…he allowed himself to know that he loved her.

But then she moaned, yawning, as her still sleepy face made its way up to rest on his chest. "Hey," she mumbled softly into the rumples of his shirt, her eyes still closed. When she opened them though, Angel could all but hear her heart racing out of her chest, just as her cheeks flushed with crimson she was desperately trying to hide from him. "Sorry," she muttered, pressing one hand to his chest and pushing herself off of him, as if only now realizing what she had done.

Angel just looked at her, not knowing what to say or do.

"I-I don't want you to get the impression…"

"What impression?" he found his voice again.

"The wrong kind," Buffy moved even farther away. "The not 'it's purely business' kind."

"I see," he looked away momentarily, certain annoyance creeping to his voice and reflecting his inner feelings. "I'm glad you cleared that up, actually, because for a moment I though-"

"Angel, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," he held up his hand. "I'm not remotely interested, Buffy, really, and besides, you haven't owed me an explanation for soon to be two years now. So…we're good here. Let's keep it that way. It's better for us both."

"I just…I want you to know that I *know* exactly where we stand. And that I won't try to cross it. Ever. A-again. Ever again," she stuttered, looking down into her lap saying the last phrase.

"You won't see me complaining," he grumbled, a little angrily, getting up, too.

"Look!" the door abruptly flew open, revealing a very excited Cordelia and right behind her, Wesley and Gunn. "I told you," she motioned at the stunned vampire and Slayer. "I knew, I just *knew*!"

"What the Hell-" Angel stopped in mid sentence when Cordelia shoved a large wooden cross in his face, a little too close, and he darted back so surprisingly he would have fallen from the bed, if Buffy hadn't grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back just in time.

"Are you bad?" the brunette questioned the vampire as the Slayer stared at her in disbelief.

"What is this?" she demanded.

"Buffy…"

"You tell us," Cordelia cut Wesley short. "I present before you the woman who invented the deadly interpretation to the expression 'sleeping with the boss'," she gestured at the blonde. 'His bed is *off* limits!"

Buffy gaped at her, then her gaze wandered over to Gunn and Wesley. "You think Angel and I… We *didn't* sleep together!"

"All evidence point otherwise," Gunn commented, regarding the bed, with both vampire and Slayer still on it. "Care to let us in on what exactly we're missing out?"

Buffy surveyed the trio one last time. "I can't believe you, people," she got up, making her way through them towards the door.

"I need a shower," Angel remarked, standing up, too, unlike his former girlfriend, not caring about his employees' opinions. He'd had way more than enough for one morning.

"Coming to think of it, I could use one, too," Buffy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes instantly turned on her.

"In *my* room!" she exclaimed, and slammed the door behind her.

"Welcome," Cordelia mumbled, pretending to be too busy with papers to look into Angel's eyes when he walked down the stairs later that morning.

He shot her one not-very-pleasant look, not saying anything, and walked right past her to eventually throw himself on the sofa.

"You do that again, Cordelia, you'll regret it," he remarked after a while, not even bothering to look her way.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin today," she grumbled to herself.

"I mean it," he hissed, looking at her this time, not playing along with her attempts to lighten the mood. He was struggling for self-composure as it was, and after the brief 'understanding' with Buffy that morning, the last thing he needed was Cordelia's nose in his business. "Don't forget you *work* for me. There's a line you don't overstep. I'm warning you. I won't hurt anyone and I won't turn *evil* and my word should be enough for you."

"I see your warning and raise one of my own," Buffy shot a pointed icy glare at the brunette, walking down the stairs.

The ex-cheerleader rolled her eyes at the Slayer. "Things were just great before you came, you know that? He went mental-"

"I'm not-" the vampire tried to insert, but was ignored completely by his employee.

"But at least he didn't go homicidal, now look what you did! Now my boss's not *only* crazy, he's crazy and threatening *me*!"

"I've had it," Angel muttered, rising up, and went back to his room.

Buffy watched him go, until he disappeared from sight, then turned at Cordelia. "You seem to have a major death wish these days."

"I was worried about him!" Cordelia protested.

"You forget who you're talking to, Cordy, I tolerated you for almost three years in high school."

"You sure it wasn't the other way around?"

"The only person you're worried about is yourself," the Slayer argued.

"Yes, I was! Okay? I was. And why is it so wrong? But I *care* about Angel, get this into your blond head already, you're not the only one who cares about him!"

Buffy folded her arms on her chest, "But I seem to be the only one not calling him crazy in his face, do I?"

Cordelia just glared at her, appearing to be at untypical loss of words.

"You owe him an apology," Buffy spoke again, her voice empty of any sarcasm this time. "You owe him more than just one."

"Look," the brunette took a deep breath. "You're maybe used to seeing him…like that, but I'm not. And I'm scared!" she gestured at herself. "Because I don't know how to be there for him like you do, and I don't know how to handle it! I handle it the only way I can, okay?!"

"Then find a new way," Buffy said quietly, yet firmly. "Because insulting him *isn't* it. You are *not* the only one who's scared, and this isn't about you, it's about Angel. You have no *idea* what it does to me, seeing him like that, but it's not about me either. It's about *him*. You wanna be there for him, so I say it's time you started. Because what you're doing now is only making things worse."

The two women just looked at each other, not saying a word as the intensity about them thickened, as if they both were trying to win the argument with their gaze.

Buffy was the first to break eye contact when Wesley and Gunn joined them in the lobby. "Wes, I gotta ask you something," she walked over to the former Watcher, completely forgetting about Cordelia.

"O-of course," he agreed, clearly still a bit embarrassed from earlier that morning. "B-Buffy, I want you to know…"

"I know," she assured him. "Forget it, it's not the point now."

"Alright," he nodded.

"Who's…or *are* Wolfram and Hart?" she asked. "Angel told me about them last night, but we somehow never got through the details so I'm kinda fuzzy about some stuff."

"I see. Why…never mind. What stuff, exactly?"

"Who are these guys?" Buffy sat on the couch behind her. "What kind of power do they have…are they human?"

"Well," Wesley scratched his scull thoughtfully.

"All humans, as far as we know," Gunn replied. "These people have vampire detectors in their building, so I doubt any are working there. And they pretty much have the power to pay huge cash to whatever with actual power to do everything for them. That should sum it up."

"I'd say it does," Wesley observed. "Buffy…these people aren't supernatural, they have no…no supernatural abilities of sorts, such as you, for instance, they don't practice magick. They have resources, however, they protect every lowlife imaginable and have contact with every lowlife imaginable. If they want something done, they usually can pull it off. Why…why are you so interested in them all of a sudden?"

"Angel," she said, leaning back with a sigh.

"They've been on his back the whole time I knew the man," Gunn observed. "Nothing's new there. They want him dead, his mission being to eliminate their clients one by one and all. They go way back, really."

"No," the Slayer shook her head. "I don't think they want him dead anymore."

Wesley took off his glasses, peering at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Would you guys…for the sake of argument, say these…lawyers can resurrect a vampire?" she suggested waveringly.

The two stared at her, still processing her words. "You're saying what I think you're saying?" the African American asked after a short spell.

"I tend to go for yes," Buffy confirmed.

"So you believe Angel?" Wesley observed.

"I always believed Angel. Question is, how we *prove* him right."

"I don't think we can," the Englishman sighed in defeat.

"Oh, I'm sure we can. If I could just see her…"

Both men looked at her.

"I could identify her," Buffy explained. "I'm the only one here who saw Darla before, I would recognize her in a flash, if I saw her again. Anyway…it's a Slayer thing, I can't explain it. I just know that she's really here."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Cordelia asked from the desk.

"I don't know," Buffy said sincerely. "I'm worried more about what Angel is gonna do. He'll try his best to save her, from them, from...whatever, to…help her, I don't think he'll…kill her again. Anyway, we've both reached dead-end in one way or another. We never really had to deal with a human *vampire* before."

"Human?!" the three asked simultaneously.

Part 8 -

Wesley peered carefully at the Slayer. "Buffy, you understand that if this is true, it's beyond everything we ever needed to face before. If this is the control she has over him now, what happens when she becomes more dominant? I shudder to think what we might be up against."

"Well, then while you're working on that, how about *I* work on finding a way to prevent that from happening?" she stood up.

"I know," Cordelia exclaimed, "call Giles!"

"What?"

"Well, he…knows stuff. Maybe he can help." At Wesley's slightly offended look, she sighed dramatically, "What? I'm just putting things in perspective here. We need help."

"We don't," Buffy objected. "Besides, I'm not gonna drag them into this. The less people are involved, the better, and I don't want anybody in Sunnydale to know."

"Um," the brunette raised her hand, "you do remember you've been her for days and haven't picked up the phone once, right? I'm not even gonna ask whether you still haven't been kicked out from all your classes, but I'm betting your friends are gonna start wondering at some point."

"She's right, Buffy, you should tell them something," Wesley sided his co-worker. "I assume you'd be here for longer than you expected and…I'm not attacking you here, but…"

"What English is trying to stammer out of him is that another sudden arrival of a jealous boyfriend is not exactly helpful," Gunn cleared up.

"I guess I really gotta say something," the Slayer mused. "Riley won't come again, but I can't have anyone else popping up here either. I just…"

"You'll think of something," Cordelia handed her the phone, with a wide grin on her face.

Buffy accepted it skeptically and dialed a number, inhaling a deep breath.

"Willow? Hey, it's me…"

"…Yeah, I know, Will, but I still don't see how I'm the *only* bad guy in the story. I can't…look I can't take care of everything, not relationship-wise, anyway, hence it usually consists of *two* people…"

"She talks on the phone more than I do!" Cordelia hissed to Gunn, while the three were watching Buffy during her conversation with Willow.

"No one talks on the phone more than you do," Wesley pointed out, as the Slayer continued to argue with her best friend.

"Which one of us just broke up with her boyfriend, Will? Don't tell me I don't feel anything, okay, because you don't know that… - No, you don't… - He's not… - look, he's not the victim here, okay? Haven't you ever considered the possibility that breaking up was exactly what we needed? *Both* of us?… - I *wasn't* happy! All you needed was to open your eyes and see…" She clasped her hand into fist and held the receiver away from her ear for several seconds.

"Will, I *always* talk to you and you know that," she resumed the conversation. "There's just some things I really thought I didn't have to say. Especially not when I'm too busy convincing myself they're not true… - This isn't about Angel," her voice returned back to normal with that sentence, instantly drawing full attention from Cordelia. "We're not getting back together, I didn't do it for him, I did it because…because there was no other way…. – God, what was I supposed to say? 'Gee, Riley, I know I don't love you, and gee, I'm so sorry you'll never fit into my ex's shoes, but all these tiny pesky details aside, you think we can still go steady?'"… - You know something, Will? I *am* sorry. I'm sorry I ever started this whole mess, because guess what, you're right, it *is* all my fault! I should have never tried to pursue a serious relationship when I was in love with…" her voice faded off as she locked eyes with Cordelia, inwardly cursing the fact it wasn't a cordless phone in her hand.

After a moment, she neared the received to her ear again, this time, whispering, "Starting a new relationship just as a way to get over the old one is no way to start a relationship, so in that scenario, I screwed up. So are we all happy now? I *screwed up*. There really isn't much I can say at this point. And by making Riley a part of the Hell that is Buffy's love life, I hurt him. There, I screwed up, too. But there's nothing I can do about that- Willow?" she frowned at the phone, then raised her eyes to find the mischievous grin of Cordelia, who was standing a few feet away, with the cord in her hand.

"Why did you do that?" Buffy replaced the receiver in its cradle.

"To save you from even more public humiliation out of the goodness of my heart. But mostly to save whatever part's left of my paycheck after you babbled on the phone for like an hour," the brunette replied. "But between us girls? You were begging for it."

"Right," Buffy nodded. "Well, thank you *so* much for your help, Cordy. I'd be eternally grateful-"

"Don't mention it-"

"*Especially* when I get back home and will have to face double."

"With everything that's happening here, by the time you get back home, she'll forget all about it, trust me," Cordelia patted her shoulder.

"Did you talk to her about Angel?" Wesley inquired.

"I did. Didn't get into details, but I said enough to keep them away for a while, to give me time to get things back on track…weren't you here?"

"Some of us weren't as busy eavesdropping," he shot a pointed look at Cordelia. "I can't help thinking though," the former Watcher mused, "perhaps you should have told them after all. Giles, at least. For once, you'll be away for…I don't know how much longer, and besides, this is hardly a situation you can leave hidden from them for…any period of time. You understand that if things do get out of control…"

"Things won't get out of control," the Slayer insisted.

"Buffy, be reasonable. I…I understand it's hard to accept the possibility of Angel reverting to Angelus. It's hard for all of us, but especially for you since you experienced it first hand already, I understand that-"

"*Don't* give me that speech, Wes," she refused to hear any more of what he had to say. "You don't know the first thing about it. From what I'm getting, you guys what…had your 'moment with the demon'? Well, I had months. Months, in which the demon was wearing my lover's face, taking out people close to me one by one and there was nothing I could do because I *couldn't* kill him. So tell me again how you find it so *hard* if you don't even have the slightest idea of what's coming at you! And you wanna know something else? As much as you all are *relying* on me to have the job done, I'm making it my mission to stop it *before* it's happening, because in spite of everything, I *won't* be able to kill him again!"

Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley stared at her, even for several moments after she'd finished the speech that slid a little off the general topic of the discussion, letting her inner fears out into the open.

"I think he just meant to say they'd like to get a head start before the boss goes for lunch," the former cheerleader suggested quietly, breaking the silence.

"Well, they won't need it, Cordelia," the blonde replied, leaving no room for doubt. "Because that's not gonna happen. I won't let it happen. On *my* watch, he won't slip."

"Ahm…okay?" the brunette looked at her skeptically. "You know, that speech just *really* made us feel so much better about everything, I gotta give you that…"

"I need to talk to Angel," Buffy turned to go, giving no mind to either Cordelia or anyone else.

"Not there, you don't," the brunette stopped her as she was about to climb the stairs.

"What do you mean?"

"When he left, he went to the sewers' exit," Cordelia pointed the way. "Which means he's not in his room. I don't have a clue where he *is* though."

"You mean he went out? In the middle of the day?"

"Like that'd be a first," the ex-cheerleader gave her a look.

"In his present state, it'd better be," Buffy remarked, checking her watch.

"So any idea where to?" Gunn asked.

"He mentioned something to me last night, when we were talking about him and Darla…we talked about the last time he saw her…where they met…"

"They *met*?" Gunn interrupted her. "I guess he forgot to mention that little detail…"

Buffy shot him an 'I wonder why' look, then went on, "The first time he saw her was briefly on the street, but the second time he…anyway, there's this abandoned used-to-be a convent…"

"You think he might be there?" Gunn probed.

"I think it's the only place where he might be. He won't do this somewhere where he can be found. He went looking for her, that's for sure," she glanced at Cordelia. "There must be a sewer access somewhere in that place, just gotta find it."

"What are you planning to do?" Wesley asked.

"What seems to be my routine lately," Buffy sighed, heading for the door. "Stop him from doing something stupid before it's…what's the cliche? Too late."

"I knew you'd come," Darla grabbed his lapels and roughly pulled him for another kiss.

Angel buried his hands in her blond hair, urging her head up as his tongue hungrily explored her mouth. He didn't even know what was driving him, what was controlling him, but he couldn't get enough of her. It was a hunger, frantic, imperious hunger he was unable to contain. He didn't even feel her heat, or her breath, or the pounding of her heart against his still chest. All he felt was *her*. The lips that were locked with his now were the same lips from over a hundred years ago, the tongue that stroked allover his bare fangs was the same tongue, and the blood he was pumping right out of her mouth…was the same blood.

Suddenly, he pushed her from him. "You called me," he said.

Darla smiled, licking the blood from inside her mouth and her swollen lips. "I did. I always do. I waited for you…I waited for you to answer. Nobody knows better than me what even my boy can't resist."

Angel's face morphed back to human. "It can't go on this way and you know it. You can't keep doing this…"

She laughed, "Honey, you're missing the point. It takes two to make it go on. You want it, Angel," she reached him with a single long stride. "You *crave* for it, hunger fore it." She sniffed her way up his chest to the final button of his shirt, where her lips brushed gently over the smooth pale skin. "Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?" she challenged, in a low, sexy voice, looking up into his haunted eyes.

"My boy," she whispered seductively, not tearing away her gaze, "over two hundred years, and still doesn't know a thing about himself. You *need* me," she grinned, elegantly pushing herself off his chest.

"I don't need anyone," Angel argued, his voice weakening with each sound he made. "I didn't need you then, and I don't need you now." He made a step back.

"Oh, right," the former vampire mocked, the triumph in her voice changing into anger. "You're your own person now. One that found *true love*, no less. I keep forgetting. Why did you drag me here then, Angel?"

He scowled, not responding to that.

She beamed again, walking up to him, a dangerous smile on her face. She grabbed his coat and pulled him to her. "I know why," she whispered, passing her tongue over his firmly sealed lips. "My boy is still in there, and you can't fight it," she roughly pulled him even closer, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, digging his fingers in the rumples of her silky blouse.

"Because he doesn't let you," she said, before her lips plugged his and he instantly gave in, inviting her tongue into his mouth.

"Hell knows why I thought you needed help," a cold voice spoke from nearby, interrupting the fervent session.

Angel shoved Darla off of him, his eyes locking with Buffy's, filling with disbelief and pain at the same time, while her own pain was well concealed behind the thick veil of ice and anger.

"You seem to be doing just fine on your own," she observed, and sharply turned around, quickly leaving the way she'd arrived.

Darla gazed up at his face, clearly interested in his upcoming reaction.

After a moment, he started the way Buffy had left, which certainly *wasn't* the response his Sire had in mind.

"Angel!" she yelled after him, but he didn't even turn around. "Angel, *you* came for me! You came to me and now you're going with her?! Angelus!"

But he was long gone.

Part 9 -

"Bad day?" Lindsey observed, throwing a brief look Darla's way, as the ex-vampire stormed into his office, slamming the door behind her.

Ignoring him, she continued towards his empty chair and sat down, turning her face to the window behind her.

"I figure yes," the lawyer went on after she'd settled, and emptied his whiskey. After a quick thought and another glance at the woman's back, he fixed one for her, too.

With the glass in his hand, he headed to the desk, but when he offered it to Darla, she knocked it out of his grip with a swift wave of her hand, stood up from the chair and paced to the center of the room.

Lindsey arched his brow at the scattered pieces of glass inside the stain of liquor. "That was a good carpet," he observed apathetically, then pressed a speed-dial on the phone.

"My office. Now," he said into the speaker and disconnected the call.

A second later, a woman walked in, cleared everything but the stain and walked out.

"Now," the lawyer sank into his leather chair, motioning at the woman to start talking, "be my guest."

She smiled, leaning back against the window. "Guess who I've just seen."

"You might want to think twice before doing that, if you want to stay on this floor, anyway," he remarked, standing up and offering her his chair.

She peered at him strangely, but accepted his offer, as he settled on the edge of his desk in front of her.

"Angel?" he finally asked.

"You had anyone else in mind?"

"I see. You know, not to question your methods, I'm sure you know best, but…maybe pressing him so soon after he's on to you is not the best idea…"

"Lindsey, shut up," she waved her hand. "I didn't go to him, *he* came to me. *He* found me."

"Interesting," he observed, his expression though, remained imperturbable.

"Yeah, whatever."

He shrugged. "I don't see what you have to be so upset about. He came to you, last time I checked, it was the first step of his deterioration, what we've been aiming towards all along. It means you're getting to him, it's what we wanted."

"Really? Well, what *I* wanted, didn't in any way involve him running away into the sunset with his beloved cheerleader," she mocked.

"Don't let your jealousy sway you off achieving your goal," he said calmly, though there were traces in his voice indicating on personal connection to the words.

But Darla paid no attention to them, she only peered at him suspiciously. "You don't sound surprised."

"Should I be?"

She chuckled, folding her arms on her chest. "You knew she was here."

"We know everything we need, Darla, of course, I did," he confirmed, the complete lack of emotion still controlling his voice.

"Why wasn't I informed, then?" she wanted to know.

Lindsey looked at her for a moment, allowing almost tenderness to enter his eyes, but he still couldn't allow himself to stray from the image he'd created for himself, regardless to how much he maybe wanted to. He leaned in, putting his palms on the chair's handles, until their faces were inches apart. "Wolfram and Hart don't want you getting between Angel and his Slayer, we want you to get between him and his soul, to bring him to our side," he articulated each word, his voice low and husky. "After he's dark again, for all I care, you two can rip the girl apart and fight over the pieces. But until then, she *can't* be in the way." He straightened back up, never breaking eye contact. "That's it."

"No," she stood up, causing him to step back. "Let me tell you what is *it*. That's *true love* of his *is* in my way. I felt my grip on him loosen, and I *didn't* like it. Now I know why. And I also know *you* are gonna take care of that!" she said, not raising her voice above normal, but making her point nevertheless, giving the impression they were discussing everyday matters.

"You're getting overly ticked off with her, Darla," he observed, inwardly, not at all liking the idea.

"He *stinks* of her," she hissed, but then her anger melted into slight smile. "Just what is it that you know about her, Lindsey?" she leaned back in the chair. "What do your 'records' tell you about Buffy?"

"She's the key, the trigger to his curse, the perfect happiness. That's all we need to know."

"That's all?"

"That's not all, but that's the part I care about at this point."

"And you still think she's not a problem?" an impish glint in her eyes said she wasn't finished just yet.

His lips curved up in a confident half-smile, "Correction, Darla, I *know* she's not a problem. As a matter of fact, her arrival serves us better than we could have ever imagined. You see, if you don't succeed…"

"But you still went through all the trouble of bringing me back?" she obviously wasn't convinced at all.

"We didn't know she was coming. Besides," he pushed himself off the desk, "you should know yourself…nothing beats the original."

"Oh, I see," she grinned. "Well here's a short update to your files. That soul you want me so much to get rid of is *in love* with her. I *can't* knock *that* out of him, I've been there, done that, years ago. Nothing's better a teacher than past flops, Lindsey."

"So you're saying you can't beat it?" he asked.

Darla said nothing for a while, then she stood up. "You said you could handle her," she avoided his question with one of her own. "How?"

"We have our ways."

"How?" she demanded firmly.

Lindsey sank into his chair. "You expect me to just tell you that?"

"No, I *know* you're going to tell me that," she smiled. "You never kept anything from me, Lindsey…well, aside from Buffy, that is…"

He chuckled, "*That*, sweetheart, you *don't* know."

"As I said," she maintained her grin, "you never kept anything from me. And you won't start now…" she let his tie leisurely brush over her palm as she pulled it back from under it, "will you?"

He took his tie from her, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't sure why he was going to do what he was going to do. Was it that he simply saw no reason to hide it, or was it the fact he....cared about her? He wasn't sure... "Fine," he sighed. "It's nothing major though. Basically, our backup plan is to have *her* breaking the curse herself..." He obviously didn't mention he, personally, preferred *that* option.

"Are you all out of your plotting little minds?" she laughed. "You have no idea what you're messing with, he *left* her so that it wouldn't happen, tore his little 'loving' heart, so you think he'll let it happen now? That *she* will let it happen?"

"None of them will," he said simply. "Problem is...none of them will know."

"Buffy, please, wait!" Angel ran after her, and finally managed to get close enough to grab her sleeve and make her stop.

"How could you?!" she span around, hurt and anger allover her face.

"What are you…" he let go of her. "Buffy, I…I'm not…"

"You're not what? I still have eyes, Angel!"

"You were the one who said it was strictly business and then you expect me to stay loyal to a dream?! Should I do that before or after you've been fucking your boyfriend for over a year?!"

In a flash of rage, she slapped his cheek, as soon as the last word escaped his lips.

Angel brought his hand up to his face, not taking his eyes from hers, as she stood there, wide-eyed, panting.

"So that's it? You're Mr. Righteous now, ha? Now everything is an excuse for you to go sucking faces with your Sire? That's great, Angel, a guy gets turned off by option number one, so he moves right on to number two."

"Dammit, you know it's nothing like that…"

"You know what? No, I don't," she cut in, stepping back from him. "Not after I've just seen, I don't. I…*God*, sewers again!" she only then took in their surroundings. "What is it with us and sewers?!" she exclaimed, knowing she was completely off the subject, but being too upset to care anymore.

"I'm sorry," Angel tried to reach out for her, but she recoiled.

"Sewer talks never end well, even though we only had one. Actually, I don't see *this* talk ending well *anywhere*. You don't get it, Angel," she returned back to the topic of discussion, "it isn't even about you and me…I-I mean, it…it, dammit, there's *is* no you and me. This it about *you*. The closer you allow yourself to get to her, the more dangerous it is for *you*. She is *not* your salvation, Angel, she's…she's not," she sadly whispered the last word.

"And you think I don't know that? Buffy, I can't…I can't stop…"

"You can't? So this is all for nothing?! You're pursuing the 'lose the soul at all cost' mission as planned? You could…you could walk away from me, knowing that I…you could walk away from *me* to keep it," she lowered her voice to a husky whisper as her eyes started welling with tears, "but you can't walk away from her?"

He sighed, making another attempt to touch her, but this time she didn't only moved back, she also smacked his hand off. "Are you *that* obsessed?" she spat.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, knowing these words were as empty to her as they sounded to him, but not knowing what else to say.

"No," she laughed bitterly, making several more steps back. "Stop. Just stop, I…I don't care anymore. I just want you to know this, you can play with fire all you want, Angel, do you know why? Because I'll never let you burn. Never. And you can spit in my face all you want, I stopped caring. You can fuck her right before my eyes and I wouldn't blink, I promise you that. Because no matter what, I'll *never* leave you until you're right again. Afterwards, I'm gone. Gone for good. But until then…if you don't want to save your soul, *I* do. And I'm going to. Because as much as I hate you…I still love you." Saying that, she whirled around and walked away, leaving Angel to stand alone in the sewers.

Part 10 -

"Will? Hi," Buffy whispered in the received she was holding close to her ear, and glanced around to make sure no one was in sight. As unusual as it was, everyone seemed to be somewhere else. "Yeah, me again, listen… - Well, *that* happened to be Cordelia, actually, I would never do that… - I didn't call back because…because it wasn't a good time. I'm sorry, but discussing Riley is not exactly the top of my priorities at the moment. Look… - Willow, please not now," she sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes and cheeks with her free hand.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm okay, don't worry about it. I just…I really need a favor now… - Yeah…why don't you wait with the yes until *after* I tell you what it is… - I need you to get to the magick shop ASAP. Get all the supplies needed for the Ritual of Restoration… - Will, Will, don't panic…Willow, don't panic *yet*, please…" the Slayer scanned the empty lobby once again and lowered her voice.

"You're with me?… - Okay, great. Now, listen to me, nothing happened yet, I promise you that, I give you my word, he still…he still has a soul. Look, I won't get into details, I can't. I can't tell you everything right now, this isn't the time, only that you gotta have everything at hand if... – Yeah, if *it* does happen. How soon can you get to the shop?…- Now? Yeah, now is good, now is great. Just…make sure to get Giles out of there before… - I don't know how, think of something, Willow, I need you here, okay? Think of something, tell him his apartment is on fire for all I care. No one can know about it by you. Make it you and Tara, actually, fill her in on…not too many details, you will probably need her help in this. But no one else can know… - So you'll do that?… - Are you sure you can… - Okay. Will, thanks. I owe you for this… - When? I don't know," she sighed heavily. "I need you to be ready around the clock, *if* it's gonna strike, I don't know when it's gonna happen… - I'll be careful, don't worry. Bye, Will."

"Buffy?" a voice called her name just as she was putting down the receiver.

She slowly turned around, trying her best to avoid meeting Wesley's eyes. Inside she wondered what he might have heard of the conversation, but the more rational part of her insisted on nothing important. Hoping there was nothing he wanted, she turned to go up to her room.

"Buffy, wait," he asked her, and she revolved with a sigh, looking down on her shoes. He made a few steps in her direction, but when she started moving back from him, stopped. "You want to tell me what happened?" he prompted, making her look up. "You're…"

"Yeah, Wes, we cry, too," she answered, her voice tinted with traces of bitter sarcasm. "In spite of conventional belief, I'm pretty sure it was somewhere in the Watchers' Handbook."

"I-I…I didn't mean…"

"I wanna be alone now. You mind?" Not giving him more than a second to answer, she walked away.

A few minutes later, Buffy heard a soft knock on her door. She lifted her face from the pillow and wiped her still slightly wet eyes with her hands, then she climbed off the bed, pulling her tousled blond hair back in a ponytail. She was just about to get the door herself, when she changed her mind. "What do you want?" she asked, in a weary but firm voice, as she sat down on her bed.

Angel opened the door, but didn't get in. "It's not the only reason," he said, after a beat.

"I don't care," she sighed. "I really don't care. Just…just go, okay? I want to be alone for one moment. I'm not forgetting why I'm here and believe me, I won't. I just wanna be alone. So…just go."

There was silence for a while, then he spoke again, "I'm not asking you to care, I just want you to know…and I really thought you did. Guess I was wrong."

"I know, so...you weren't wrong. I memorized the list by heart. *I* was wrong. Showing up here bordered the pretty much dumbest thing I could do. You see, Angel in danger equals worry, worry equals Buffy goes to LA, but Buffy goes to LA equals *nothing*, because Buffy never learns!" She stood up and reached the nearest window in a few strides, pulling the curtains apart until almost the entire room was sunlit.

Standing in a pool of sunlight, unable to face the expression on his face, Buffy looked down. "Now, go," she whispered.

He swallowed and nodded, the part of him that's not busy denying she'd just done what she had, busy trying to figure out what *he* should do. Finally, not saying anything else, he turned around and left.

Angel briefly raised his head, throwing a careless look at the doorway. "Come on in," he gestured with his hand. "Sorry about the curtains. I know this room lacks sunlight. Probably because I recently developed this thing when I …burst into flames. But if you want, go ahead, open them, too. I don't mind, really."

Buffy looked down for a moment, embarrassed by her own actions. "Can you put that out, please?" she requested quietly, referring to the cigarette he was randomly inhaling from.

"Helps me clear my mind," he glanced at it one last time before doing as asked.

The Slayer entered the room and shut the door behind her. Avoiding his eyes, she made her way to Angel's bed on which he was sitting. "I was thinking…about everything that's happened…"

"I think I hear *business* coming up," he interrupted her sarcastically, rising up. "Give me a sec, I'll put my shirt on."

"Angel, enough!" she snapped. "Cut it out, I want to talk to you. Fifteen minutes ago, *you* wanted to talk…"

"I'm pretty sure fifteen minutes ago was *before* you kicked me out of your room using sunlight," he remarked.

"Oh, I see," she nodded. "You finally found a yet another card to play pay-back with."

He gazed at her for a long moment, the anger gradually melting away from both their expressions.

"I'm sorry I did it," Buffy spoke first. "It was…well, 'low' should begin to cover it," she acknowledged. "I'm sorry."

"Buffy-"

"I'm *not* sorry about *why* I did it," she added before he could say anything. "I'm still not interested in excuses, or…explanations...whatever you wanna call them, they're all the same to me anyway. I don't wanna hear them. That hasn't changed."

"I see," he was taken aback.

"I came here to tell you I've done some thinking…about it all, about you, about Darla and about…how I fit into this puzzle. And I think I got all the pieces together and…I got it all figured out, once and for all. My only role here is to make sure you keep your soul, and that's where it ends, there I step out. I can *ask* you…God, I can even *beg* you to stay away from her, at least until you get a grip over yourself and stop letting her control you like a puppet, but that's *all* I can do. That's all I have the right to do. I definitely don't have the right to go ballistic over…other stuff. I lost that one a long time ago, and I'm…not asking to get it back."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'll do whatever it takes to save your soul, but I can't lock you in here like a little kid and say you're not allowed to play with girls. If you insist on chasing Darla like a sick puppy because you cant control yourself," she shrugged, "I can't do anything to stop you."

"And you suddenly don't care?" he asked, searching her eyes for the real answer.

She waited for a moment before answering, "I don't."

He laughed, sitting down on the bed, but keeping distance from her. "I really don't get you now. Are *you* sure you know why you're here?"

The Slayer groaned, rolling her eyes. "I'm trying! I'm *trying*, okay? But I just can't win with you, can I?! I tell you one thing, but then I see you're not in a state to be pushed, so I *back off*, put things in a different perspective, and tell you another-"

"How about telling me the truth?" he interrupted her. "Ever tried that one? Cuz I hear it works."

"I did! But then you came at me with a detailed account of my sleeping with Riley! When are you finally gonna get it, Angel, my past doesn't make up for your present!"

"You think that's what I was trying to do? To justify myself?! God, Buffy, I *really* thought you knew me better than that-"

"And I *thought* I knew you *at all*!" she retorted. "Seems to me like we both wind up disappointed."

"*You* only see your side of everything, you *never* see mine…"

"What are you talking about?"

"When Faith told me about what she'd done with Riley, the only thing I could think of was that another man was…touching you…was inside of you, was…allover you. I never thought something could hurt as badly…but it did. And then it hurt million times more when *you* threw it in my face, that you *trusted* him, that you *loved* him…do you have the slightest idea of what it did to me?" She didn't say anything, and his hurt melted into the faintness resemblance to a smile. "Sure you do. You did, that's why you said all those things…you always knew what buttons in me to push to hurt the most, because you're the only one who can hurt the *most*. Nothing else can," he whispered, locking eyes with her. "But the point is that you didn't care. That you *don't* care. You say you don't want to hurt me, but instead of not hurting me, you constantly attack me for hurting *you*. And...I guess I do…hurt you. But at least I care."

"I won't say I'm sorry," the Slayer whispered after a long thought, looking down on her hands. "Because I…I don't really believe it'll do. I don't think it matters."

"It doesn't," he said, and she looked up, clearly having been expecting to hear something else, after all. "I don't want you to apologize. Then I'll have to apologize, and you'll have to apologize again, and then *I'll* have to apologize again, because God knows we both have a long way to go, which eventually leads nowhere..."

She smiled at his insight and seeing that, he allowed a small smile, too.

"Besides, I'm over it. Brooded about it from every possible angle, ask Cordelia. I want you to understand that…I get hurt, too. My heart's not made of stone though it might seem that way…especially with everything that's been recently going on, even though it's not beating."

She bit on her lower lip and moved closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. She shakily raised her hand and gently placed her palm over his heart. "It's beating for me," she whispered, and after another moment of hesitation, replaced it with her cheek.

"Should kick in right about now," Lindsey mused, his eyes fixed on a tiny bottle he was holding up in his hand, filled with red liquid. "If everything goes as planned, he should be knocking on our door within…ten hours," he said, glancing at his watch.

"What if it doesn't?" Darla asked.

"I was told they were shot, both Angel and the Slayer. They were followed for a while, neither felt anything, no consequences…nothing went wrong so far. It's been enough time for it to integrate in their system…it should start working as we speak."

"So they'll just…forget?"

"Not forget…just will become too disoriented for a while to be aware of…the exact same things they must never forget. More than enough time to make the mistake of their lives…or unlives, for some," he grinned to himself. "Don't look so disappointed, Darla," he addressed the former vampire. "Defeat doesn't look good on you. If it makes you feel any better, it's not my fault. Wolfram and Hart's policy is to have the removal of Angel's soul our top priority. With the Slayer in town, they found a faster way to do it. Simple as that. Anyway there are no losers here…well, except for the girl, probably," he shrugged, putting the bottle down on the desk in front of him.

Lindsey got up and walked over to his mini-bar. "Join me for a drink?" he offered. "It's going to be an exciting day, followed by an even more exciting night," he smiled at her, raising his glass.

Darla just looked at him.

Part 11 -

Buffy yawned and stretched, releasing her arms from under Angel's back and bringing her hands to her head. She didn't remember waking up with a headache like that before, she didn't remember waking up with a headache *at all*. She certainly didn't remember the blow to the head she obviously got at some point before falling asleep. What was even stranger…she seemed to have a bleary tear in her memory that began with her talking to Angel in his room and ended with her waking up...in his bed.

"Angel," she gasped, her eyes flashing open as she sat up, in the process causing his arm to loosely slide from around her waist. Her heart started pounding so fast that to add that to the headache and sudden lack of air, she almost passed out. Shaking her head to clear her blurry vision, she stared at Angel's unsuspecting, still sleeping face, her eyes wide, disbelieving and fearful at the same time.

Without taking her eyes off him, she grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around her naked body, tightening the fabric until it practically dug into her flesh. "Oh my God," she whispered, her voice thick with tears though her eyes were still dry. She reached one hand to his face but hesitated to touch him and pulled it back.

Buffy carefully climbed off the bed, endeavoring not to make a sound or movement that could wake him up. With the white sheet still around her, she frantically scanned the room several times, her eyes passing randomly over her and Angel's clothes that were scattered all around the bed, getting dressed obviously not being the first thing on her mind. Not finding what she was looking for, she grabbed Angel's coat from a chair and let her restive hands rummage inside the pockets. After a few seconds that were more like hours for her, she pulled out his cell phone, but her shaking hands gave in and as she tried to dial a number, it slid out of her grip, hitting the floor with a thud. Buffy's heart skipped a beat at the sound and she slowly turned her head to look at Angel. After making sure he was still asleep, she inhaled a deep breath and waited a few moments until she allowed herself to pick up the phone and dial again.

"Willow?" she hissed into it, her voice cracking more with every word as her head was becoming clearer to understand what had really happened. "W-Willow…n-now, now, the…the spell… - No, no ques-no questions now, Will, just do the spell-" she paused, as her breath caught in her throat, and slowly turned around, to meet Angel's piercing eyes. She lowered the phone from her ear, turning it off, and let it fall to the floor, unable to take her eyes off the vampire.

"Buffy?" he finally said her name. When she didn't answer, he started climbing out of the bed, but was stopped with a firm gesture of her hand. "That's close enough," she managed, sniffing back tears she didn’t want him to see.

Angel gazed at her quizzically, but staid put.

"Y-you m-move again, I…I-I'll kill you…I swear," she stammered, and her eyes briefly scanned the room for a stake or anything else she could use, even knowing she wouldn't be able to actually *use* it, but she came up with nothing anyway.

"Buffy…" he tried to speak, hoping he was allowed to do that much, "what's going on here, what's hap-" his eyes lay on the rumpled bed, and just as fast, he became aware of what exactly it smelled of. And he smelled, and *she* smelled…she was allover him, just like he was allover her. "Oh God," he murmured, instinctively reaching for his boxers and pulling them on under the covers. "Buffy," he attempted to get closer again, but she darted back.

"Don't talk to me!" she held out her hand, as though to keep him away, "D-don't touch me. *Don't* touch me," she panted.

"Okay," he remained sitting on the bed. "Look at me. I'm not…I'm not moving, I'm staying right here-"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, as her tears finally started to overflow. She averted her eyes from him, backing further away until there was nowhere to go anymore. "I'm…I'm…stay away from me..."

"Buffy, no…" Angel reached out his hand, but that gesture only made her press herself to the wall behind her. He pulled back his hand, giving up any chance to touch her. "Buffy, look at me," he pleaded quietly. "Please…Buffy, *look at me*. Buffy…"

"Stop saying my name-"

"Look at me! Please…"

She swallowed, slowly raising her eyes from the floor to meet his.

"Angel," she whispered softly, when after a few moments, the veil of fear in her orbs gradually dissolved into nothing. "Angel…"

He released a sigh of relief. "I don't…I don't remember," he rubbed his head. "I know what happened, but…"

"I don't either," she acknowledged, sitting down on the bed next to him. "But it did. It happened and you…" she reached for his hand, as her eyes found his again and she took a moment to simply look into them, "you're you. You're not changed. How can…I don't understand…there's no clause?"

"No, there's still…there's still the clause, I'm pretty sure…"

"Angel," she was suddenly hit with a realization, "what if you're not…him…*yet*?"

Buffy put down the receiver and turned to look at the gang assembled in the Hyperion lobby, Angel included. "Okay…good or bad news first? And there's…news in between, too."

"I'd say you two've covered the all possible bad news for the century," Cordelia glanced between the vampire and the Slayer, "so why don't you go with the good?"

"We were drugged!"

"Sure! You keep saying that, but that had to be *some* drug to not be rejected by *your* bodies. And not to burst your bubble or anything, but what makes you so special for someone to go through all these trouble just to-"

Everyone glared at her pointedly.

"Point taken."

Buffy sighed. "Good news is that I managed to…*talk* to Willow this time, which involved…listening to what she had to say."

"And?" Cordelia motioned with her hand to proceed.

"And…that's it. That's the good news. The bad news is that…there's a problem."

"What problem?!" Cordelia stood up. "You couldn't keep your hormones in check and now my boss is going evil *again*. She fixed it the first time, she better do it again."

"She doesn't have the supplies, Cordelia," Buffy hissed, quickly losing her patience with the ex-cheerleader, even though she knew she was definitely the one to blame for everything that had happened. Whatever had happened between her and Angel, *she* was the one who was supposed to prevent it from happening, given the fact *he* was in no state to use clear judgement. "There apparently isn't a single Thesulah Orb in the entire Sunnydale when it's needed!"

"What's the third option?" Gunn asked.

The Slayer looked at him.

"You said there was bad news, which we heard, and we heard the good news. What's the other news?"

"Oh. Well…she and Tara, that's…another witch, never mind," she restlessly waved her hand. "Anyway, they said they were digging the books ever since I called and…there was no Orb to be found, and they found another spell that could work. It's dangerous, so…they don't really wanna use it, besides, they never did it, so…"

"What's it do?"

"I didn't really…get the details, but…basically, they can create a time loophole, erase an event of history, like it never happened…."

Cordelia turned to look at Angel, who was trying to hide himself from her gaze as if knowing it'd come, and her eyes filled with genuine compassion. She sighed, and looked back at the Slayer. "Maybe…maybe it's not such a good idea to…do that again…*at all*," she amended quickly, "do that at all. Turning back time…bad idea. Besides, we can always curse him again later when they find that...Orb thingie and…"

"If I change, you'll be too dead to curse me again *later*," Angel looked up at her. "My demon has a tendency to learn from past mistakes, especially now that I know what you're planning to do."

"Buffy…time-spells are very dangerous, the repercussions of erasing a single act, and I'm not even talking about *everything* that ever happened that moment-"

"Me neither…"

"Buffy," Wesley interrupted her to continue what he had to say, "a *single* act, if it's erased, the repercussions of it throughout history can be enormous, are you sure you understand that? Are you sure there is no other way to…"

The pained look in the Slayer's eyes spoke volumes, and he sighed in defeat, dropping any attempt to convince her.

"Okay, so should we…chain him to the bed or something now?" Gunn asked everyone, when it became clear that one of the spells, whichever could be done first, was their only option.

"I-I…suppose," Wesley stammered, awkwardly glancing at Angel. "We don't know when the curse can be lifted, it hasn't happened yet, but it can happen any minute now..."

"No one is chaining me nowhere," Angel stood up, heading towards the entrance to the hotel.

"Angel-"

"Sun is down, Wesley," the vampire stopped and turned around, "I can finally move freely and do whatever I want without bursting into flames. If I stay here and change here *and* want out of these chains, they won't hold me, and you all know that."

"So your great plan is to run loose, and when you're finished with the main course, come back here for desert?"

Gunn and Wesley turned to look at Cordelia.

"Hey, *I* was there when he went bad the first time, one way or another, his murderous alter-ego is gonna come after his friends, I know. So does she," she gestured at the Slayer and all eyes turned to her.

"I won't come back here, Cordelia," Angel finally spoke again, "*if* I change. At least not for a while."

"There's an *if* now?" the brunette gave him a look, putting her hands on her hips. "I don't remember an if...is that another clause? Where did we get an if?"

"Cordelia, it's been hours…"

"And?!"

"And if to judge by last time, it should have happened already. I...I think I know who's behind this. And that's where I'm going."

"Angel," Wesley made a few steps in his direction, "maybe it'd help if you shared your thoughts with us? We could…"

"Help? No trust me, you can't. I have to do it on my own." He turned to leave again, but was stopped, this time, by Buffy.

"You're *not* leaving this hotel alone," she stated unequivocally.

They held each other's gaze for a long moment, until Angel broke the contact and in a flash, was gone.

"I've been expecting you," Lindsey leaned back in his chair, folding his arms on his chest, as Angel entered his office and closed the door behind him. Behind the blank expression in his eyes he wasn't at all happy with the fact *he* was chosen for this job.

"Is that so? Well, you almost ruined me the surprise, I started to get suspicious when no guard tried to stop me."

"Like I said," the lawyer stood up and walked around his desk, "you were expected. Sorry your girlfriend couldn't be here for the occasion, I guess she got tired of waiting."

"Right…" the vampire mused, as his eyes roamed aimlessly around the office. "Seems like she's gonna miss the show. Not too bad for her though, cuz you know what?" he sharply turned to Lindsey. "I'm not the one you've all been waiting for." He grabbed the man by the throat and shoved him back into his chair, "You and I don't need an introduction, do we, Lindsey?" he smirked, glancing at the man's prosthesis, "How's the hand doing?"

"What the Hell…" Lindsey tried to stand up, but Angel pushed him back down.

"I should've known from the start it was one of your little stuns, I guess I was too *drugged* to see the tag with your name on it, not my fault. You know, you…all of you, you fucked up my head in almost every way possible, I gotta hand you that, *but*," he spun around, locking eyes with the man, grinning, "you should have tried harder."

"So you're not changed," Lindsey finally spoke, his voice even and nonchalant, "remind me then, what the Hell are you doing here? Came to rub it in my face?"

"Too old for that."

"Are you now? Because if that's the case, not to spoil your fun, but I couldn't care less. I'm not the one thinking up plans, I'm the one executing them, and I did my part. The rest is not my business, believe it or not, it wasn't even my idea. If it were up to me, you'd be chained up in some cave and I'd be burning this soul out of you with the one hand I got left and hot pokers…or whatever else that works."

"You're very noble," Angel acknowledged with a nod, "but nobility usually goes together with brain and you…" he shook his head in mocking disappointment, "you sadly lack the other half of the package."

"Enlighten me," Lindsey grinned, unimpressed.

"Lindsey, Lindsey, Lindsey…" the vampire chuckled, examining the various items on the lawyer's desk. "When I first met you and found out you were working for Wolfram and Hart, I thought you were an idiot. When you sold your soul for a six-figured salary the second time…I thought you're an idiot who couldn't recognize a chance to save his own sorry ass even if it hit him in the face. But after this…after this, I just think you're an asshole. Let me ask you one personal question, Lindsey. Have you *ever* loved somebody?"

"No," he answered curtly.

The vampire examined him for a second. "As always, you're lying, but I guess that quality comes with the office. And since I don't really care, I'm gonna let it drop. *Sex*, Lindsey, doesn't make me lose my soul. If it did, it'd be gone the first time I slept with Darla after I'd been cursed with it. And guess what, sex with Buffy doesn't make me lose my soul either. Actually, you know, for…for a *long* while, I thought like you, that all I needed was to jump somebody's bones and no more curse. But you know what? That's *not* all. There's this little detail you and your scheming gang overlooked, the little 'moment after', also called a moment of happiness, Lindsey. That I only have with Buffy…and *that's* the key."

The smile vanished from Angel's face and his expression was, for the first time, so painfully serious, Lindsey felt these dark eyes were piercing their way all through his very soul.

"I need to thank you, Lindsey," Angel resumed his speech. "*You* screwed your own plan, thanks to *you* I still have my soul. Because you know what the trick is? That one tiny moment of happiness, the one that sets the demon free…I was too drugged, by *you*, to be able to feel. So tell me, how did you idiots expect me to experience one moment of true happiness when I didn't even know what was going on? So…again," he leaned closer and put his hands on Lindsay's shoulders, looking him in the eye, "thank you."

"You're not getting out of here alive, you know that, unless you manage to fight your way out," Lindsey remarked, as Angel was on his way to the door.

"As much as I'm sure you'd love to, I *don't* think your boss will appreciate the idea of me being dead."

"I'm in a sudden mood to game," the lawyer shrugged indifferently, picking up the phone.

"Wouldn't do that, if I were you," the vampire warned him. "I got a Slayer waiting right outside your door. Me and her together…the odds aren't looking up for you, really." With that, he closed the door behind him.

Part 12 -

"You mind if I help you brood?"

Angel looked over his shoulder and stood up. "Hey…brood?"

The Slayer smiled and, shutting the door behind her, sat down on one of the steps leading down to the patio. "Just thought I could keep you company, you know…you can go ahead and brood, I'll just…sit here." She asked him with her eyes to sit down next to her and he did.

"It's pretty here," she observed, looking around.

Angel didn't say anything, just stared ahead.

Finally, Buffy sighed and looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

"Okay?" he echoed.

"It's been…a pretty intense few hours for…all of us."

"Not like it was for you," he said.

She looked down from him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I freaked like that, I was just…I don't know what I was," she looked back up. "I was scared, for…for you, for me, for…everyone, I was just scared. I didn't know…"

"*I* know when I have a soul," he interrupted her, "I also know when I don't. *You* can't."

"But I should have," she whispered. "I should have known…instead I threatened to stake you. I should have seen…"

"You did."

"Yeah," she sighed, a bit sarcastically. "Didn't I?"

"It's not your fault…"

"Yep, that part we pretty much covered with you paying a not too friendly visit to that lawyer guy. Coming to think of it, maybe you should have spared him the news though."

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

Buffy shrugged, "Just that…I don't think it was the smartest move you ever made, telling him what exactly triggered your curse. Obviously they had no idea, and…now they do have…an idea, which is…bad…for us," she stammered, unsure of what exactly she meant to say. "Or…for you. There's one bright spot though, it should make them drop the whole Darla thing, since now they know there's no chance you'd lose your soul with her and all."

"I don't even know if that was really what they had in mind when bringing her back," the vampire contemplated quietly. "There are…so many things that aren't falling into place now, even more than before, too many things that are unclear to me…too many things I don't know," he exhaled, combing his long fingers through his hair and burying his face in his hands.

"Me, too," the Slayer whispered, putting a hand on his crouched back. "But I guess we can just wait and see. Maybe we're completely out of trouble, maybe we're not at all, maybe…I don't know what. Angel?"

He looked up.

"I kinda…" she averted her eyes for a second, then looked back at him, clearly struggling with whatever she wanted to say, "I kinda wish I could…know what I was doing…when I did that. Do you?"

"I…Buffy, I…I really better not…"

She nodded, "Right."

Angel touched her arm, making her look at him, "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," she smiled, but her smile was fake. "You're right. Besides, even if you weren't, I shouldn't have asked."

He let go and looked away from her. "I'm just…too messed up now. I don't seem to be able to think clearly about anything, let alone think about *us*, in *any* sense of the word. Right now, every second of my life, I'm trying not to make things worse than they are, and…in our case, I simply can't afford that. Hell, I never could, even when Darla was out of the picture."

"It's because of her?-"

"Buffy, we *slept together* because of her. You came here because of her, and because you came here they dragged you into this. It was never supposed to happen. And if it hadn't been for the drugs, it never would have."

"I guess it wouldn't have. I *know* it wouldn't have," she mused, then looked up. "But it did," she whispered, angling her face up and meeting his lips in a tender kiss.

"Buffy!" Angel pulled back in surprise, even though at first he'd welcomed it. "What are you-"

"What you want me to," she said, her voice indicating she wasn't sorry. "You know you do-"

"It doesn't matter," he backed away some more. "It never did, it hasn't changed."

"No, it doesn't. But you know something? Nothing ever really does anymore. I know what you're gonna say, that if we let ourselves go through with it, it'll be harder to break it later on, because eventually, we'll have to. But *that* doesn't matter. We don't need to be in the same room to want each other, Angel, I *know* that, you know that, too. We can be two driving hours away and still want each other just as badly. So you know what? I don't care. For the little time that I'm here, I *want* what I can't have once I'm gone again. I don't want to sleep with you, I don't want commitment from you, I don't want you to promise me we'll get back together, I know my lines and I know which ones are crossable and which ones aren't. As far as I can see right now, there's no happy ending for us anywhere in sight. I'm not living in a bubble. But I also know…that in spite of everything that's going through your head right now…you know, just like I do, that it will hurt so much more if I leave, *when* I leave, without us having made the best of the time we had. It's been almost two years since I kissed you," she finished in a soft whisper.

Angel gazed at her tenderly, his eyes piercing deep into hers, into her soul, into the meaning behind her words. He hesitantly reached up his hand and ran his fingers through her blond hair, clearing it away from her face, but then he pulled his hand back, not saying a word.

Buffy smiled slightly. "You can go on brooding now. Maybe, with luck, you'll have the time to brood about it, too." She moved closer to him and inclined her head on his shoulder.

Angel glanced at her blond crown, inwardly trying to guess what was in her eyes, since now he couldn't see them anymore, then focused his gaze on the wall across the patio, drifting back into his thoughts, of which he had now twice as many.

"They amaze me," Cordelia observed, while watching the vampire and Slayer's backs from the glass doors overlooking the garden.

They had been talking at first, but that hadn't lasted longer than several minutes, then they were just sitting, close together, with her head resting on his shoulder, until his hand gradually traveled behind her back and wrapped itself around her. Their body language, their every gesture, indicated on growing closeness, growing passion. There was a spark between them only someone who knew what to look for could detect, because it was so powerful it was unbelievable to the unknowing eye.

"Why's that?" Gunn asked from the couch, while finishing a yet another sandwich and appearing not particularly interested in discussing the subject of Buffy and Angel with Cordelia.

But she clearly decided to disregard the note of indifference in his voice. "I knew she was trouble the moment she walked through that door, but *no one* would listen to *me*! These two are deadly." She moved back from the window and took a seat next to Gunn.

"She helped the man. Don't know anything about what you're saying, wasn't there the first time around. I've got no idea what he'd be like without her, but I'm thinking much worse. Whatever his girl did to him, I'm glad she did it."

Cordelia groaned. "Which part of I-was-almost-eaten-by-my-boss-today did you not get?!"

"Without her, I could have been eaten long before now."

"Fine," she sighed, "so maybe things would be worse if she didn't show up, but we *don't* know that! And yeah, the part of me that is…me prefers him going at it with Buffy rather than Darla, don't even ask me why. But fact is, Buffy *always* equals trouble. When they're apart, he sometimes gets all broody, which is annoying, but at least safe. When they're together, they go all Romeo and Juliet, with the only difference that the ones who eventually wind up dead are *us*. So personally, I'm not looking forward to the big finish."

"Right," Gunn considered, not threatened by her speech at all. "So I say we grab her and her stuff and shove them out the door. Then he can go on chasing that Darla chick and snap at us when his self control takes time off, since we sent the only person who can keep him together back home, until he gets tired of us and fires us, that's in the best case."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Look at them," she gestured outside. "They've just *slept* together. Instead of learning the lesson and embracing it, they keep pushing the boundaries! If at least one of them had half a brain, they'd move to different planets! But no! Why learn from my near-death experience when we can go groping in the garden?"

"So far, her influence on him has been nothing but good," Wesley joined the conversation. "That aside, both Angel and Buffy are adults and eventually will make the right choices. And until they do, I trust they'll avoid making the wrong ones."

"Well, we had a pretty close call today, Wes, I think it's safe to say the *wrong* ones have already been made."

The former Watcher glanced outside the glass doors at the couple, then turned back to his co-workers. "Angel is not to be trusted at this time, I agree," he said, his voice lower than usual. "But I think we *all* agree that in clear mind, Buffy would have never let this happen."

"Really?" Cordelia folded her arms on her chest, a challenging glint in her eyes. "Clear mind or not clear mind, she *did* let it happen. And now, instead of doing everything not to let it happen again, they seem pretty cuddly to me!"

Wesley glanced over at the couple in question again. "I think…I think that perhaps that sort of closeness is what Angel needs the most right now. He needs someone by his side, someone he can talk to…someone who can understand."

"And you're saying we can't?"

His gaze drifted towards Buffy and Angel again, "Obviously not enough…"

"How do you think she's gonna take it?"

Buffy raised her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. "She?"

"Darla," he said. "How'll she take what happened or…didn't happen?"

She sighed. Angel's Sire definitely wasn't her daily subject of choice. "Hard to tell. If to judge by our last meeting, I'm not exactly her favorite person in the whole wide world, so I don't think she was ever *thrilled* from the idea of you and I…you know," she made a gesture with her hand, "not even to get Angelus back. But…she won't be happy," Buffy considered eventually, a little smile playing in the corners of her mouth, "in…a nutshell. You know, I-I don't really know her that well actually…"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted her.

"What-"

"You don't wanna talk about Darla. I'm sorry."

"Well, she's not on my favorites' list, but as I already said, that's mutual. It doesn't mean I can't talk about her. Besides, I talked about her before," she snuggled closer under his arm, taking his other hand in hers. "I'm still alive, don't I?"

Angel looked down at his hand, as Buffy started casually playing with his fingers, but made no attempt to pull it back from her.

"I think there are other stuff you wanna talk about besides Darla's reaction though," the Slayer prompted after a while.

"Such as?"

"I think that's where you step in," she smiled.

Angel looked away with a sigh. "I don't understand something and…it bothers me. Darla…she'd been back for months. Could they…bring her back soulless, is that even possible? She's a human being, she has a soul. How can it be that after all this time, she still can't feel…anything? When I…"

"You *aren't* Darla. And Darla is not you. You're not the same-"

"But we are. We were both vampires and we both got our souls back, the only difference is that…one of us is human," he added quietly. "But in the sense I'm referring to, we *are* the same. But she…she doesn't feel anything. Yeah, it took time for me, too. But that time was insignificant, minutes only. Not longer than minutes before *everything* I've done in a hundred and fifty years came crushing down on my soul at once."

The Slayer clasped his hand gently and he looked at her for a moment, then down at their joined hands.

"She has four hundred years. Four hundred...and it seems it doesn't mean…anything."

"You thought you could help her. That you could save her soul…"

He nodded.

"But not every damsel needs to or wants to be rescued, Angel," she finished.

The vampire grinned ruefully to himself, "Someone told me that once."

"Someone knew what he was talking about…unless it was a she," the Slayer frowned slightly. "I know you want to protect her, you feel it's your duty to protect her to prevent her from going through the same thing you had to. But no matter how good your intentions are, even you can't save everyone. And Darla…when and if it happens," she put a hand on his cheek, turning his face to her. "I can't promise you she'll want your help."

"But what if she does?"

"If she does…she'll come here, and you'll give it to her. I know you will." She paused. "If she does."

"If she does," he repeated her words to himself. And after a moment, stood up.

"Ready to go back inside?" Buffy asked, still sitting.

Angel just stretched his hand out for her and she took it, letting him help her up to her feet.

"If you wanna talk about anything else, you know that you can, don't you?" she said, as they entered the lobby together, holding hands.

"I know," he nodded.

"Just checking," she flashed him a grin.

Suddenly, Angel stopped, causing Buffy to do the same.

"What's wrong?" she looked up at him, then followed his gaze to the couch. "Willow?"

The witch stood up, smiling shyly, and approached the couple. There was something else in her smile Buffy couldn't quite understand.

"We were about to call you two," Cordelia said from the counter, where she was with Gunn and Wesley.

"What's up?" the Slayer eyed the three suspiciously, then turned to look at her best friend. "Will?"

Willow's eyes nervously darted between Buffy and Angel, before she finally said, "I-I have something to tell you."

"Something you…had to drag yourself all the way to LA in the middle of the night because you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

"It's not just for you," her gaze briefly moved from Buffy to Angel, then back to Buffy. "And I better do it in person. Trust me."

Part 13 -

"Not just for me?" Buffy asked, carefully eyeing her friend. "For…Angel and me?" she threw the most probable guess.

Willow nodded.

"Okay. So what's up? You look like you're about to tell us we're dying."

"Dying? No one's dying…I…hope. I already promised Tara I was coming back," she remarked, a mischievous expression on her face Buffy knew only too well.

"What did you do?" she let go of Angel's hand to fold her arms on her chest expectantly.

"Do?" Willow asked innocently, though the tone of her voice was everything but. "I didn't do anything, honest. I…found something out. Tara and I, actually."

"Willow, you're a horrible liar, especially when you're trying to lie to someone who knows you're a horrible liar. Something *what*?" the Slayer grilled.

"I-I didn't do anything," the redhead held her hands up in defense. "I really didn't."

"Why so nervous?" her friend grinned knowingly.

Willow opened her mouth, but didn't say anything for several moments, just held it open. "Because…I don't know how you're gonna take it."

"Which brings us back to square one, what is *it*?"

The two women looked at each other for several moments, before Willow burst into a wide grin. "Angel!" her gaze flew from the Slayer to the vampire. "Hi! I never said…hi!"

Angel eyed her strangely, not knowing what to make of it. "Hey, Willow," he replied after a while, still confused.

"How are yo-"

"Will!" Buffy's tone made it clear she was done waiting.

The witch glanced around, taking in the presence of Gunn, Cordelia and Wesley. "Can we go somewhere…else?" she quietly asked Angel and Buffy.

"We can use my room," the vampire suggested.

"And what about us exactly?" Cordelia asked, not too happy with the concept of being left out.

"We need Wesley, too," Willow looked at the former Watcher. "Might...need."

"M-me?" he stuttered, surprised.

"Hey, why does he get to be in the mix?" Cordelia protested. "I wanna know, too!"

"Because he can answer questions," Willow started, but never finished. "If there will be any," she added quietly, throwing a glance towards the Slayer.

"I can answer questions, too!"

"Cordy," Buffy shot her a look and the brunette rolled her eyes, backing off. "Wes, you're coming?" she looked at the former Watcher.

"S-sure," he followed the trio up the stairs.

"Okay, Will," Buffy was the last to enter the room and closed the door behind her, "start spilling."

"You…you wanna sit down first," Willow advised. "You wanna sit down, too," she told Angel.

The vampire and the Slayer exchanged a look but did as asked and both sat on Angel's bed.

Willow studied them for a long moment, inside trying to decide the best way to break them the news. All the times she'd rehearsed that conversation on her way over were suddenly forgotten and she was unable to put two rational words together. She glanced at Wesley, who was standing away, leaning against the wall, also waiting for her to speak.

"Willow?" finally, Angel prompted her to start.

She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, before determinedly looking up at the couple. "Remember that spell I told you Tara and I found when…we couldn't go on with the original Gypsy curse?" she asked Buffy, and the blonde nodded.

"You don't need to do that anymore, I should have…I should have called you, just…with everything that happened, I forgot," she apologized. "Angel didn't lose his soul and he's not going to."

"Right," the witch acknowledged. "That's good. Because that spell would have been useless in your case anyway."

"What do you mean, our case?" Buffy wanted to know.

"Never mind that you wanted to, you *didn't* call us. So, hearing nothing from you, Tara and I thought something happened and…I know we agreed we'd wait for you to give us the go to pursue with that spell, but…we were worried and…we thought the worst happened..."

"What did you do?" Buffy suddenly felt her heart start racing faster and faster. The tone of Willow's voice could mean nothing good in store.

"We did the spell…"

"No, you didn't, I still know-"

"Wait," the redhead interrupted her with a gesture of her hand. "Let me finish. We *tried* doing the spell, we had all the right ingredients, said all the right words. But it didn't work. It wouldn't channel. I panicked immediately, I thought we made the worst worse. But Tara…she knew what to do, *luckily*. In spells, you sometimes can trace back to the energy source-"

"Will," Buffy cut in. "No Wiccan stuff, please. Don't know it, not getting it. Cut to the chase."

"Right," Willow took another deep breath. "Chase. I-I can't, I need to…I'll try to explain this. Every spell has an energy source, it needs that energy to be channeled. There are two types of spells, the Wiccan ones are confined to the laws of nature, they're not dark, t-they must respect the Wiccan Oath."

"Oath?"

"Never try to overpower the laws of nature," Wesley answered the Slayer's question, then turned to the witch for confirmation, "am I right?"

She nodded, "Kinda."

"Basically, Wicca is not dark magick, it's pure, its essence is of good. The oath binds them to work within the laws of nature, which forbids any magick that interferes with life and death, with growth with…whatever other natural process. Wiccans who cast these sorts of spells renounce the oath and basically turn to dark magick."

"Okay…so…where does it all lead to?" Buffy felt she was only thrown more, if that was possible, after that detailed explanation.

"The time-spell we were trying to do was dark magick," Willow explained. "But we wanted to be as safe as possible...circumstances given, anyway, that's why we also used a Wiccan protection spell simultaneously. That was the reason the spell wouldn't channel. It wasn't safe."

"I think we know that, Will," Buffy observed.

"No, I don't mean that part. I mean…the magick wouldn't channel itself because the protection spell blocked it. When Tara traced it back to the source…she found out why."

"And…you're about to tell us?"

Willow gulped. "Well the…t-the not messing with life and death part? That's what stopped it. We couldn't erase what you did because…" She paused, her eyes wandering over the couple to see if they were following, but they both seemed to be at loss, having not the slightest idea what she could be talking about. "We couldn't erase the…life that was created. We couldn't undo something like that, it's beyond our reach."

Buffy sprang from the bed and started restlessly pacing the bedroom, as Willow's words sank in, and all eyes turned to her. "Say that *again*?"

"A-all of it?" the witch hesitated.

The Slayer let out a short nervous laugh, "The new life part would do."

"I told you I didn't know how to say this, I didn't know how you'd take it…"

"How am I *supposed* to take it?! This is…*insane*, this is absurd*-"

"These spells are never wrong, Buffy-"

"But they are!" the Slayer exclaimed breathlessly. "They are! They *have to* be! Everything is wrong, everything is…this is absurd, Will, do you even realize what you're saying?!"

"We checked two times-"

"Check again!"

"We checked *six* more times, it's not a mistake. Everything makes sense…"

"In which alternate reality?" Buffy snapped. "God, this is," she brought her hand to cover her eyes with a groan and Angel caught her in the last second before she was about to lose balance.

The Slayer leaned her weight on the vampire, resting her head on his chest with a sigh and clasped her hands into fists by the sides of her face.

Angel enclosed his arms around her, randomly stroking her back. "Are you sure about it?" he asked Willow.

"As sure as it gets," she replied confidently. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say…I'm happy for you? Or…I'm sorry? What am I supposed to say?"

"How about 'I take it all back'?" Buffy offered, disconnecting herself from Angel and sitting back down on the bed.

"Buffy-"

"I'm a *Slayer* who, according to you, got knocked up by a vampire!" she gestured at Angel. "He shoots blanks, how could he get me pregnant?!"

"It…didn't say?" Willow suggested lamely.

"Well then *you* say! Tell me how this is possible, and while you're at it, *please* tell me what I'm supposed to do now. And *please* tell me what's inside of me!"

"I-I don't know," the witch whispered apologetically.

"Well then take me to someone who does!" she demanded, almost hysterically, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Because whatever it is-"

"It's good."

Three pairs of eyes lay on Wesley at once.

"Good?" the Slayer asked huskily. "How can…something that's born from a Slayer and a demon…*can't* be good."

"She's right," the vampire confirmed quietly. "To-to explain *how* it happened in the first place is beyond everything I can think of, but...it can't-" he sat down on the bed, nervously running his hands through his spiky hair. "I'm so sorry..."

Buffy turned to him and sighed, taking one of his hands off his head into her lap and clasping it gently. "I don't..."

"I can't father anything good," he muttered, his face still away from her, partly hidden in the palm of his other hand.

"But you did, it...it is," the Englishman smiled. "Angel, you're the vampire with a soul, you appear in countless prophesies, yes, you are a demon, but you are also a Warrior for the Good Fight, like you," he gestured at Buffy with his hand as he spoke, "in service of The Powers That Be. You are the Slayer, the Chosen One to fight evil. The Slayer, Buffy, is the very essence of good. This child cannot be evil. He or she cannot be a demon either, because his only demonic heritage is of a vampire. But he can't be a vampire, it's biologically impossible, a vampire's body doesn't grow, it doesn't change, which is why while inside you, being a vampire, this infant cannot only grow, but for the same reasons, can't even be conceived. But it was. Buffy…this child is good. And it's human. He…or she…is a miracle," he smiled in awe.

"Miracle," Buffy murmured, looking down on her still flat abdomen. "I'm so scared," she whispered, without looking up, let go of Angel and wrapped her arms around herself.

No one moved for several minutes of silence, several minutes that everyone present in the room took to also absorb the news and everyone's reaction to them.

Finally, the vampire wordlessly looked up at the Slayer and gently raised her chin so she would look at him.  

She did, but didn't say anything.

"We'll deal," he promised weakly, though inside he was struggling not to fall apart. Too many things had happened to him the past few days, starting with her arrival. He remembered the time when it used to be just Darla and his obsession with her with an almost sick longing. He didn't know what he was going to do now, didn't know what *they* were going to do. He didn't know anything. And though the unknowing shouldn't be a strange feeling to him, it scared him every time as though it was the first. He never felt weaker than when he tried to pretend being stronger. And now most importantly, he wouldn't be able to rely on her anymore. Now, they were going to have to rely on each other. And *he* wasn't ready for that. They weren't ready for that. They weren't ready at all. 

Still, he pulled her to him, gingerly pressing her to his chest with growing possessiveness, as he tightened his arms around her.

Part 14 -

"Busy?" Willow walked up behind Buffy, who was sitting on her windowsill, overlooking the patio, her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them.

She only briefly looked up from the window, tilting her head 'no'. "Thinking."

"Thinking?" the witch walked up to her and occupied the empty space. "Wouldn't you guys prefer thinking together?" she gesticulated with her head down on the vampire sitting alone in the garden.

The blonde shrugged. "He wanted to be alone…so I let him."

"And now you're sitting up here spying on his lonesome?"

Buffy smiled. "No spying was never mentioned in the agreement. Anyway, he's brooding…doesn't really need me for that. I wouldn't wanna intrude on his private moments with the edited list of his past sins and his attempts to atone for them. And somewhere in between I'm pretty sure there's the question of how can he possibly deserve the gift of fatherhood."

"That's gonna be one busy brooding," Willow observed.

"Piece of cake for him, really," Buffy waved her hand, then sighed. "He'll be half done by…morning. Until then…I got some brooding of my own to do."

"You want me to go?"

"No," Buffy pouted, tugging at her arm. "I can use my best Willow."

The witch beamed, invitingly patting on her lap.

Buffy exhaled and lay her head there, curling her legs up in the remaining space on the sill. "I don't know what to do, Will," she said quietly, tucking stray locks of hair behind her ear so that it wouldn't fall down on her face. "I don't…I don't remember ever being so helpless."

"You're not helpless," Willow protested. "You'll never be, you know that."

"I don't know that, that's the problem. What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to come home?"

"If you don't want to take the bus…"

"Willow!" the Slayer moaned her name.

The witch smiled in return. "You'll come back. The same way you wanted to come back before everything that happened. Nothing changed, Buffy."

"How'd you figure that? I already see myself telling Xander everything, and my blood runs cold. And then there's Giles, and there's mom…God, she'll never let me off the hook with this, and I'm talking in the worst possible *never* sense."

"You don't know that," Willow tried to soothe her, inwardly knowing she wasn't really helpful.

"On top of everything, she doesn't need that now," Buffy continued. "With her headaches or…whatever they are, the last thing she needs is me announcing I'm pregnant. And now, holding to that thought, maybe I better reveal the father's identity only after the baby's born," she added after a pause. "Either that, or a one way ticket to the white room for mommy."

Willow giggled and Buffy playfully smacked her knee.

"I'm sure your mom's gonna be supportive," the redhead said. "As supportive as she can, anyhow. She's not that bad."

"Yeah, and Angel *always* was her favorite son in low," Buffy mocked, sighing. "She doesn't even know I broke up with Riley yet, who, by the way, *was* her ultimate idea for a son in low. I'm too deep in the woods…"

"You're deeper than you think," Willow muttered.

Buffy looked up at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Riley's still in town."

"What?!"

Willow nodded. "He intended to take off as soon as he came back from here, but he signed up for this mission in some rain forest or something, and…anyway, all I know is that they told him to wait like a couple of weeks before they come and pick him up. So basically, he's still there."

"Wonderful. Just when I dare to think that my life can't possibly get more perfect than it already is…check this out."

Willow patted her shoulder. "It can always get worse."

"I'd agree, but then you told me my ex was still in town. Doesn't get worse, Will. *Really* doesn't."

"You can…look surprised when you see him."

Buffy gave her a look. "I think he'll look surprised when he sees *me*, the house-sized me, anyway."

"I think it takes a little longer than two weeks to get that huge," her friend smiled supportively.

"'No, Buffy, you *won't* get that huge' would have worked just fine, too."

"You said it yourself, I'm a bad liar."

"No, now you're just being mean," Buffy smacked her knee again.

"I'm trying to cheer you up," Willow contemplated, combing her fingers through Buffy's hair. "Trying would be the key word here, mind that."

"Well, it's not working," the Slayer whispered, then sat up, looking out the window. "Great," she grumbled, when Angel turned out to be nowhere in sight. "I…I didn't ask for this, Willow. I didn't want it," she looked down at her stomach. "But at the same time…there's this tiny part of me that *does* want it…I don't even know what *it* is."

"Wesley said…"

"Wesley said what? Wesley's not the one who's gonna have to carry this kid for nine months, so yeah, he's a player. That, by the way, *assuming* it's gonna be only nine months. A Slayer and a vampire never set up home before so we can't exactly check if I fit into the statistics. Jesus…" she groaned.

"You want to…abort?"

Buffy's head shot up. "W-abort?"

Willow nodded.

"No, no way," the Slayer declined the suggestion without thinking. "I don't know what I want, but I do know it's not it. I can't do this. I can't do this to myself and…I can't do this to Angel. It's his child, Will. It's something…while I'm sitting here and whining about bad timing and my mom and my Watcher and my friends and my ex and…pretty much *everything*, he's trying to understand how he's come to deserve it in the first place. Wes said…he said this baby was a miracle. And he was right. I can't even begin to imagine what's going through Angel's head right now. He never though he could be a father, he never thought he could *give* life, to something good, no less. Whatever it is…for Angel, it's so much more than a miracle." She leaned her back against the wall and put her palms over her abdomen. "It's his salvation."

The witch smiled to herself. "Yeah. I guess it is."

"And still," she heard Buffy speak again and looked up at her. "I don't get it, I just can't…get it. Why would anyone want to bring a child into this world?"

Willow touched her arm, but Buffy pulled it back.

"What's he gonna have, or she? I mean, really. A mom with a nightly super-job who's busy saving the world when she should do the three o'clock feeding, and an immortal creature-of-the-night dad. This world is full of evil, of monsters, death, pain, suffering…wouldn't this kid be better to never be born?" she whispered, her green eyes glazing with tears. "What can I give it? How can I be a mother? I'm not a mother, Will, I can't even protect it from the scary under the bed because I know it's real! *What* can I give this baby?"

"You can love it," the redhead suggested with a grin. "And you can just be Buffy. And Angel can just be Angel. None of you is alone in it, you're together. You're gonna do it together…"

"I'm not so sure about that."

"What?…"

"A baby doesn't necessarily bring people together, and I'm certainly not going to use this baby to bring Angel back to me."

"The way I see it, he'll come willingly," Willow remarked.

"Maybe he will. Maybe he won't. But I've grown out of making future plans for my vampire husband with whom I'm gonna live happily ever after in a house with a white picket fence, an annoying dog and three and a half kids. You're forgetting something, Will, baby or no baby, everything that drove him away the first time around still stands. Nothing's changed in that scenario. Except for the…baby."

"And that's not enough?"

Buffy didn't say anything for a while, just staring outside at the empty garden. "No," she answered finally.

"At a point, when a person stands behind me for too long thinking I don't know he's there, it begins to annoy."

Wesley cleared his throat, making his presence noticeable. "I-I…I was wondering…"

"You were wondering for about ten minutes," Angel grumbled, not bothering to even turn around and look at him. "It doesn't take *me* nearly that long."

"Yes. Well…I was wondering…" the ex-Watcher stuttered, but made no move from where he stood. "Would you like to talk?…"

"And why would I want to do that?" the vampire stood up, but remained with his back to the ex-Watcher.

"Why aren't you with Buffy?"

"I've been with Buffy more than enough for one day, wouldn't you agree?"

"Angel," Wesley made several hesitant steps over to him, but didn't come too close. "I-if you're looking for someone to lay the blame on, it-it wasn't your fault, nor…nor Buffy's."

He laughed at that, "But you see, Wes…given the fact I'm the father, I think I had at least a *tiny* role in the process."

"I-I meant…"

"I don't care. I don't wanna hear it, not interested. What I do want though, is to be alone." He nodded in the direction of the patio doors, "So you mind?"

"No," the former Watcher replied quietly, starting to go back the way he'd come, but abruptly, he stopped. "Yes," he declared firmly, turning back to Angel. "As a matter of fact, I *do* mind. Is that why she's not here? Because you told her not to?"

Angel looked at him for a long moment, then nodded, sitting back down.

"If you want my advice, Angel…"

"Never asked for it."

"*Still*, it's not a good time to push her away. You need each other. Neither one of you can go through it alone, and what's more important, neither one of you has to. Having someone you can always rely on is a privilege only few people have. You…you don't throw away something like that, you cherish it."

"*You* are not in the position to teach *me* about life," the vampire dismissed him harshly. "Two-hundred-and-forty-eight years into this world, I think I've proven more than enough how much I can handle my own."

"Yes," Wesley nodded. "Nearly a hundred years of which you also *spent* of your own, shunning from your own shadow. Then she came."

Angel chuckled, "Yeah. Then she came. And nothing made sense anymore."

"And ever since, you weren't alone anymore," Wesley completed. "You see…no matter how old you are, you always have something to learn from this world."

"I have nothing to learn from you," Angel huffed.

"W-well…perhaps," Wesley murmured, a bit hurt by Angel's statement. "But you learned…from her. And still, I don't see her here, do I? You don't have to be on your own-"

"I'm always on my own," the vampire whispered, looking down to the floor.

"It's not true."

He lifted his head again, meeting the man's eyes. "She doesn't want it," he said.

Wesley didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"That baby. *My* baby…she doesn't want it. Buffy doesn't want it."

"You…you don't know that…"

"I know enough," Angel protested. "I'm not that blind. And I'm not that stupid. And the Hell with that, why *should* she want it?! What woman would want a demon to grow inside of her?"

"It's not-"

"Well, it's not your average human either, is it?"

Wesley finally closed the distance between them and sat down next to Angel. "She *never* viewed you that way, you should know it better than anyone. She loves you…"

"*And* after living in this world for two-hundred-and-forty-eight years, I also know that having a baby together doesn't necessarily have the first thing to do with love. She *doesn't* want my baby."

"Angel…"

"I've done so many things in my life…too many. I killed, maimed, wreaked havoc of any imaginable kind, you name it. I hurt so many people, took so many lives. And I can't change any of that. No matter how many good deeds I do, no matter how hard I try to make amends, I never will. I can never take it back. I can't undo even *one* thing. But then this happens, this child, that you say is good. It's something I did…and it's something good. I…*created* something good, I *gave* life to something…good." He stood up again, made a few steps, then stopped and turned around. "How it happened, I don't know. I-I don't even pretend I have the first idea where to begin to look, but…it did. And it's good. And it's *mine*. And she doesn't want it," he finished quietly.

"Did you ask her? Did you talk to her? Both of your emotions are running high now and it's only too expected. Have you even tried to understand her? Angel, she's scared, too. Like I said, pushing here away is not the solution. Maybe it looks like one now, but…" the former Watcher walked up behind the vampire and lay a hand on his shoulder. "You need to go through this together. You can't *assume* on the grounds of a hunch, you owe her as much as a chance to explain herself. You need to talk about it, both of you…"

"What can we possibly talk about?" Angel shook his hand off his shoulder, spinning around to face him. "What can I say, I'm *sorry* I knocked you up?! Great idea, Wesley!" he smirked. "You know what? I *am* sorry! And at the same time, a part of me is not. so what am I supposed to say? Besides…she just broke up with her boyfriend. Yeah, it wasn't exactly your forever-love ideal kinda relationship, but he was her boyfriend. They were together for a year, people bond in a year, in one way or another, they do. And before she can even take a second to get used to the idea, she finds herself pregnant, with my kid, no less. And you know something? I *don't* think it was anywhere in her future plans! And if that's not enough, her mom's…sick. Something's not right with her. She told me," he clarified at Wesley's questioning look. "So that means she's gotta be the grown up now, gotta be there for her mom and for Dawn. And she has college, on top of it all, *and* she's the Slayer. Forget want, she can't *afford* pregnancy right now! And I'm the one who got her into this mess!"

"Angel…not to state the obvious, but…there are forces involved here that are far more powerful than you, or Buffy. A conception of a child of a vampire and a Slayer cannot be purely biological, even assuming it is human-which it is," Wesley hurried to add before Angel could voice his thoughts. "What I'm trying to say is that this pregnancy, the conception itself, is a result of a direct intervention of a much higher power."

"The Powers that Be?" Angel suggested.

"It would be my most probable guess, yes."

"So basically, you're now telling me that the second she sets foot back in Sunnydale, every fiend on the Hellmouth will be after her because of my kid. Now she'll be twice the target she used to be as the Slayer."

"I-I…" the man subconsciously backed away from the vampire, while trying to find the right words to repair the damage he'd already made. "I didn't say that. But…yes, probably…yes. But still…Angel, this child, when it is born, it will have a huge role to play in this world, which as for now, we know nothing about. A vampire and Slayer's child is *not* conceived for no reason, and my guess is…he or she has a pretty good reason. If The Powers that Be went through all the trouble of creating him from a dead seed and putting him in the Slayer's body, he will be protected there *by* them. So will the mother."

"The Powers never did anything for me, why should I trust them to keep her safe now?"

"Because you traded your life for hers," Wesley replied, holding eyes with Angel throughout the entire sentence.

"How did you-Cordelia," the vampire smirked, shaking his head. "Of course."

"I'm sure she didn't-"

"Like I said, I don't trust them," Angel cut in, not willing to hear what he had to say. "Never did, never will," he turned to go back inside the hotel. "So you want to be the one to tell her?" he threw over his shoulder when Wesley started after him.

"I…"

"Make it good, tell her everything! That not only our kid has a contract out on him before it's even born, but while it's inside her, she's in the same danger."

"Angel, it was a mere observation," Wesley tried to keep up with him as they entered the lobby. "I could be completely off the mark…"

"I'd say you hit the mark," Angel snapped back.

"There you are, I've been looking-"Cordelia stopped in mid sentence as the vampire pushed his way through her as if she were invisible and continued up the stairs.

"What did I do to him now?!" she exclaimed, locking eyes with Wesley, her gaze both hurt and furious at the same time.

"It's not you. He just…has a lot on his mind now. Give him time," was all he found himself able to say. "He'll come around."

"Give him time?! How much time are we talking here?! And when am I gonna know the news that drove my boss over the edge *again*?"

"Where is Gunn?" Wesley's question came completely off topic.

"Went home…Wes!"

"When he's ready," he said, gazing thoughtfully up the stairs when he'd last seen Angel. "When he and Buffy are ready, they'll let you know everything. They'll tell you…when they're ready."

The phone rang, interrupting their conversation and, groaning, Cordelia grabbed it. "What?! I mean, Angel Investigations, we- Darla?" she instinctively paled at the sound of the name.

"What?" Wesley rushed to her side.

The brunette lowered the received to her chest, covering it with her hand. "It's her!" she mouthed, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"W-what does she want?"

"Duh! Angel. And I don't wanna go out of limit and say she sounds…scared? Even helpless. She wants to talk to him."

Wesley looked up to the second floor.

"What should we do?" Cordelia nudged his arm nervously, still gripping the receiver in her hands.

"We can't call him downstairs…not now. Not at a time like this, he's…not now."

"Swell! What am I supposed to say to her, 'sorry, he'll call you back later'?!"

"You answered her!"

"I thought she was a client," she hissed, "not a four-hundred-years-old ex-vampire who recently turned human and the center of my boss' obsession! You talk to her," she shoved him the receiver.

Wesley pushed it back, holding strong until Cordelia finally gave up.

"Darla? Yeah, he-he…can't exactly talk right now. I don't know where he…is," she finished the sentence to herself. "She hung up."

Part 15 -

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked, when she found Angel in his room, drawing the curtains off the window.

"Preparing to watch the sunrise," he replied evenly, then after a beat added, "Not in the death-wish sense of the word."

"Well that was the answer to my next question," she observed.

"I can take a little morning sun. It's not strong enough to harm me yet. After that, I'll play safe," he promised wryly, clearly wanting her to go so he could be alone. "So you don't have to worry."

"I-I wasn't…" she lied. "Why now?"

Angel eyed her strangely, then leaned his back on the window-frame, his eyes wandering off to the farthest spot in the horizon, where the pink was already brightening the black skies. "The way I hear it, sunrise has a tendency to take place in the pre-dawn hours."

Buffy nodded, moistening her lips, and slowly made her way over to where he was standing. She looked down on his hand and silently slipped hers in it. "I meant…why *now*?"

Angel sighed, then without looking down at her, said, "I can't watch the sun*set*, so it's as close as it gets for me. And I don't know why now, I just…wanted to. It almost makes me feel normal sometimes. Before the time comes when I gotta run for cover, anyway," he contemplated with bitter irony. "Why aren't you asleep?" he asked then, still not making eye contact.

She shrugged. "Don't know. I guess I'm just not tired. Which after everything that happened tonight, sounds only *too* weird. Maybe I'm just too…nervous to fall asleep. But that would call up for the inevitable question *why* I'm nervous, which I don't really know how to answer…"

"Buffy," he cut her short, finally looking down at her.

His untypical almost annoyed gaze caught her off guard and she awkwardly pulled her hand out of his, wrapping her arms around herself and looking away. "Next time, just don't ask," she murmured.

The vampire intended to say something, but in the last minute, just looked away from her, folding his arms on his chest.

The Slayer looked up at his face and let out a short weary laugh. "Just let me get this…correct me if I'm wrong, is anyone *not* in your way nowadays? Myself included?"

Angel groaned, but didn't say anything.

"Can you at least do me the courtesy and honor me with a say…*response* when I'm talking to you? I don't even know what I'm doing wrong anymore! Considering everything that came toppling down on me tonight, I think I handled it pretty well, don't you?!"

"Buffy…"

"No, newsflash!" she smacked his arm, forcing him to look at her. "No one asked you to be with me around the clock, since I'm such a pain! But you *don't* get to diss me, Angel, you *don't* get to bail on me, not this time!" she spat, backing off as she spoke.

"I'm not-"

"You know something? I didn't sign up for a solo gig!" She roughly wiped the tears from her eyes, darting out of his reach wen he attempted to touch her. "You said we'd deal! *We*! Not *me*, *we*! Do you even remember that? *All this time*, I'm thinking what a selfish brat I'm being about it, while Angel this and Angel that, so who's the selfish now? I *know* you're in pain, I know this is hard on you, I *know* you didn't ask for it, and I know that what you're going through right now makes it even harder, but you're *not* the only one!" she exclaimed, not tearing her wide glazed eyes from Angel's. "I'm just as lost as you are, Angel. But you don't seem to care. Do you…even want it? Do you even want this baby, because I can- Angel…" her voice softened at the instant flash of pain and horror in his eyes before she even finished uttering the words.

The vampire grabbed her wrist before her hand could reach all the way to his face and held it firmly, his eyes piercing deep into hers until she could barely stand looking at him. "You can *what*?" he articulated gruffly.

"You're hurting me," she hissed, trying to pull her hand back, but he wouldn't let her.

"Say it."

"Let go," she squeezed through gritted teeth. When he still held on tight, she summoned her full Slayer strength and ripped her hand out of his grip, "Let go of me!" she shoved him flying across the room, until he collided with a drawer, knocking almost everything on it to the floor.

Angel laughed softly, not bothering to get up from where he landed. His eyes searched for hers in the moonlit room, until their gazes finally met, his indifferent, while hers tearful and wounded. "Finish it," he requested quietly.

"I didn't mean it," she replied, her voice trembling with each word.

"When you don't mean it, you don't say it," he dismissed.

She swallowed, trying to steady her voice but not showing any results. "At least it got your attention."

"Oh, I see," he smirked. "Here's a tip, honey, tying yourself up before a moving train is a far more efficient way to draw my attention." He scrambled up to his feet and, ignoring Buffy's eyes that followed his every move, strode to the window and pulled the curtains back together. "If you think you can barge in here and threaten me into doing whatever you want, or acting however you want, you've got another thing coming."

"I wasn't-"

"Let's make one thing straight, shall we?" he interrupted her. "I have no right *whatsoever* to tell you what to do. If you wanna kill my kid, then…" he swallowed, glancing down on her abdomen, "by all means," he gestured at their unborn child, but his hand started quivering in mid motion and he had to pull it back, "go ahead. I can't stop you, never could. It's your body. Everything is up to you, so…you work your judgement. Now leave me alone," he said, holding her gaze, as if challenging her to look away first.

"You really think I could do that?" she asked quietly, her hoarse voice reflecting the utter disbelief at the fact it even crossed his mind.

"I really think I don't care," he retorted, doing his best for his voice to back up his words.

Her orbs glared at him contemptuously. "You're an idiot."

He released a short laugh. "Two hundred plus years of my rep and that's the best you can do? Now, come on, for real now, you didn't ask for it, we all know that, so what's it gonna be?"

"What?"

"Doesn't get any clearer than that. I just wanna know. Being the father, I think I'm entitled to at least that much information. Is my baby gonna live…or is it gonna die? What's it gonna be?"

"How can you even ask me that?!"

His gaze softened in accord with his voice and he allowed genuine pain to enter his dark eyes, "This is my baby. You like it or not, but *I* put it in you. I have the right to know. Answer me…please."

She waited a moment, then asked, "You answer *me* first. Why are you hurting me?"

"Dammit, Buffy-"

"*Why* are you hurting me?!" her roughly steady voice transmuted into a sob as tears finally overflowed. "Ever since I came here, I manage to get through to you for about two minutes, and you're…mine again, I *know* that you're there, but then you treat me like dirt again! Why?!"

Holding her gaze, he repeated firmly, "Answer my question."

"If you're too stupid to already know the answer, not until you answer mine," she persisted.

He briefly looked down, then raised his eyes from the floor to meet hers again. There was no anger in them this time, no darkness…only pain. After a spell, he blinked, looking away again and, muttering something she couldn't understand, headed to the door.

He never made it there though, because the Slayer grabbed his arm and, without meeting his eyes, pulled him back to the window. There, she let go and nodded pointedly at a large armchair standing nearby.

Angel sat in it and bent forward, burying his face in his hands.

Buffy pulled the drapes apart again, revealing a dark-blue sky, instead on the black from the time before. She seated on the arm next to Angel, and planted a soft kiss on his skull, directing his head to lay on her shoulder as she dug her fingers in his hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes to prevent his tears from leaking out, but one still managed to escape and slowly trickled its way from the corner of his eye onto Buffy's shirt.

"Shh…" she whispered, and kissed his head again. "Look at me," she angled his chin up. "I *love* it. No matter what it is. Because it's yours…and because it's mine. I'm…*not* a mother, I…I don't know how a mother is supposed to feel, or act and…maybe I'll learn. I mean…no one's born with 'mommy' written on her forehead, right?"

Angel just looked at her.

"So maybe it's gonna take time for me to…figure out what to do and…how to do it. But I do know that the only way in which this baby is going to die will entail the activation of the next Slayer."

Angel averted his gaze, feeling a shudder run through him at the thought alone.

"If you're asking me if, given the chance, I would pick a different time, different circumstances…I'm probably gonna have to say yes. I won't lie to you and tell you I'm completely happy with the way things turned out, because I'm not. While a part of me is happy, there's the other part, that just…wishes for things to have happened differently. But after a sleepless night, I can safely say that I've seen my situation from very possible perspective and…somehow, the good overthrows the bad," she smiled.

"Does it?" he asked hoarsely.

The Slayer nodded. "I'm glad it's you. And as cliche as it sounds…I wouldn't want it to be anyone else."

He chuckled softly, lifting his head from her shoulder and running a hand through his hair in frustration. "That's all very nice. But somehow I still can't help thinking things would have gone much better, if the father'd been someone-"

"Human?"

He didn't say anything.

"*And*…" she slid down onto his lap and inclined her chin on his shoulder until her lips were only inches from his ear. "If we could, say, narrow down our list of one potential father, would we by any far fetched chance, thinking about...Riley?"

The vampire tensed at the mention of the man's name.

Buffy allowed a small grin of victory, "Looks like jealousy's working over hours today. Very impressive."

"I'm not jealous," he protested.

"Too eleventh grade, honey," she remarked. "Literally. Coming to think of it…I'd say we're dating way back before that, aren't we? I was still dating back in LA, tried to, anyhow. Tyler was the longest," she drew even closer, enclosing her arms around his neck and nearing her lips to his ear, even though Angel didn't even once try to touch her, his expression remained impassive, as if nothing was going on. "Did you like Tyler?" she whispered throatily, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

After he didn't answer, she pulled back a little, laying her palms on top of each other on his shoulder and fixing her chin on them. "I'd take that as a big fat no. *So*, if memory serves me, next should come Xander, and we all know how much you two adored each other. Afterwards, there's Scott, and last but…least, there's Riley. What you thought of him, we saw when you barely left him standing that night in the alley months ago. Which, by the way, let me point out again, was probably the peak of your two-hundred-and-fifty-years-old maturity. Check this out, apparently there's more potential fathers than we thought at first," she smiled, but wasn't amused at all, and the smile soon was gone. "You destroyed me, Angel," she said after a while, the tone of her voice no longer light but very serious. "You destroyed me for everyone that could follow you, but I wasn't worried about it back then, probably because I never even thought I'd have to face an *after you*…or maybe I just wasn't aware of it yet. After you left…I couldn't see anyone else, no matter how hard I tried, all I could do was...pretend. No one was good enough, no one was dark enough, strong enough…" She straightened up and leaned her back against his shoulder, her eyes no longer on him, even though his were on her.

"I used to look at you, and like in a dream, the lights would dim everywhere else. Everything stopped existing…everything but you. I would look into your eyes, and I would see a world I didn't want to leave…a world the full depth of which I couldn't even begin to imagine. There's nothing in Riley's eyes for me, Angel. There's just…Riley's eyes. He told me once that I was addicted to you, that I was addicted to the thrill and the darkness and the danger." Perceiving his look from the corner of her eye, she added, "He didn't use the exact words, but the meaning was not one I could miss. And who knows…maybe he was right, maybe I was addicted, maybe that's how you left me."

She reached her hand for her neck and brushed her fingers over the scar, "You left me craving for more, for more of what I could never have. No one ever made me feel the way you did. No one ever could. When I let Dracula bite me, Riley said…*implied* it was because I was craving for it, longing for it, for the pain, for the reeling on the edge…because that's what I'd felt with you. And in a sense…he was right. Pain was a pretty major factor in our relationship, but it also was what kept me alive. The pain, the heartache was what made it special, made it *real*. I don't think Riley ever understood that. you left me looking for a second-best version of you, and I couldn't find even tenth-best. Riley was human, he was safe, and loving and supportive…but he wasn't heartache, he wasn't tears, he wasn't pain…he wasn't love. He was just reliability. I never felt complete with him. He wasn't you," she finished, then turned to look at him and smiled sadly, "Wasn't it your cue to stop my ramble about…an hour ago?"

The vampire reached his hand up to her face, gently brushing away the remnants of tears, "I'm not me now, too. Sometimes I don't even know who I am...but I'm not who I was two years ago."

"And the *two years* part covered it pretty well, if you ask me," she observed. "Everyone changes, Angel. Even those of us who have forever in store. Unfortunately for you though, I'm not talking about things that change. I'm talking about the ones that don't."

"You're right," he exhaled. "Some things don't."

"I'm not at all looking forward to round two of tonight's…or last night's conversation. I'm not asking you to come back, I thought I made it pretty clear. I just…" she took a deep breath, looking down into her lap, "I thought you should know…these things." Before he could answer, she looked back up. "All I want from you is to be you. To be…a father. To help me give this baby the best life we can…"

"With a vampire for a father."

"And a Slayer for a mother, I'm sure neither one of us was on his or her top-priority list. I'm not asking you to come back for me or...at all…" she contemplated over her next words for a moment. "You don't have to be *there* for me, to be there for me. It's *our* baby. It's strange…and it's scary, and…just…don't leave me alone," she asked softly, then sniffed, wiping her already dry eyes, and nestled herself in his lap, resting her head on his chest.

Angel found her hand and she responded by instinctively lacing her fingers with his.

"Pretty sunrise," she whispered somnolently, her eyes, barely open, staring faraway outside the window on the gradually brightening sky.

"Yeah," Angel responded, pressing his cheek to the top on her head as he buried the fingers of his free hand in her blond hair. "It is."

Part 16 -

"Hey," Buffy lazily stretched her hand from under the comforter and tugged at Angel's shirt, by that making him snap out of his thoughts and turn all attention to her. "Good…four pm," she frowned at the clock next to the bed, taking in the time. "I'm turning into you. Now my night's a day, while my day's a night. Coming to think of it, that might actually come handy in nine months or so…" she then considered, "unless the baby will turn out like you, too…in which case, expect me to die a premature Slayer's death. I'll be the first to do such a thing, of course, but…"

The vampire offered a small smile. "Slept okay?"

"Like a rock," she yawned, pushing herself up on her elbows. "During which I kinda took over your bed," she observed, looking around.

Angel read her thoughts, "I-I didn't sleep…"

"You brooded," Buffy flashed him a knowing grin. "Had fun?"

He chuckled quietly, "Tremendous fun. I-I…need to talk to you."

"Ow," she moaned. "These words coming from you never mean anything good. Need to talk…*bad*. You mind if I get a little less cave-womanly first?" she desperately tried to smooth her disheveled hair back into place, but it didn't seem to collaborate.

"You look fine," he observed typically, but didn't restrain himself from tucking loose lock behind her ear.

"Liar," she yawned again and climbed off the bed. "And I actually woke up with a surprisingly good mood today," she kept muttering on her way to the bathroom, "can we just say good-bye to that now?…"

Angel's eyes remained fixed on her back the entire time, until it disappeared behind the shut bathroom door.

After five minutes she returned, still looking a bit sleepy, but together with that, a lot more refreshed.

"I used your toothbrush," she let him know, and at his look, "not *your* toothbrush. I opened a new one. I didn't wanna go to my room and get mine. That's okay?"

"Sure," he nodded.

"And since the only comb in sight was hair-gel icky, I had to *wash* it," she emphasized the word with slight annoyance in her tone. "And did I mention the complete lack of mirrors? Angel, your bathroom is impossible." Finally, she perched on the bed next to him, sitting eastern style. "What's up?"

Angel lifted his eyes from her belly to meet hers, then momentarily looked away again. "I spoke to Wesley last night," he began. "He…said some things that…"

"Got you worried? Come on, it's written in bold all over your face. What about, who's the baddie?"

"I'm…not sure we're talking about just one. He said that…he thinks…our baby will…that the baby is in danger. *Already* in danger. And so are you. You'll be hunted by-"

"Everyone alive? Not *alive* as a rule, actually," she considered after a beat. She wasn't intimidated at all by the news, as if she'd been almost expecting them. "And you needed Wesley to tell you that?"

He looked down, "Well…yeah…"

"Angel…*our* baby," she lifted his face back up. "You know, he and she who have enemies they don't necessarily know about, not necessarily in this dimension even? I pretty much figured that when Willow broke the big news. I'm not stupid, I know what's coming. And I bet the word's out on the streets already," she tilted her head pointedly.

"What? Buffy, we're the parents, and we barely know for twenty-four hours."

She lay a hand on his arm, taking a moment just to look him in the eye, to make her words sink in before she even uttered them. "Angel…whoever *needs* to know has eyes and ears *everywhere*. If Wes is right in saying this baby is good, which I'm tending to believe more and more is true, being yours and mine, this baby will grow up to be the scourge of the underworld. Believe me, these kinda stuff run in the family. From a scourgy mommy and a scourgy daddy, you get a scourgy baby. It's only a matter of time, if you consider seconds time, anyway, until everyone and every*thing* will be on our backs."

"And you're not worried? Not even a little bit?"

"Hell yeah, I'm worried. I'm *very* worried. But all in all, there's nothing I can do, and there's nothing *you* can do either. I never expected it to be easy going, you wanna tell me you did?"

"No," he looked down on her hand and covered it with his own. Without looking back up, he said, "I just don't want anything to happen to you. I don't want to put either of you in any unnecessary danger. As laughable as the term is in our case," he commented.

"I was gonna say that," she smirked. "But danger and I go way back. And I'm an old-fashioned gal. I say there's always room for improvement in a long lasting relationship. And besides…call it a wild guess, but…I'm pretty sure that whoever or *whatever* went through all the trouble to put the bun in the oven also thought of a way to make sure it'd stay there."

Angel smiled, his eyes following his thumb as it lightly brushed over the upside of her palm. "That's what Wesley said."

"Wes looks like he's finally outgrown the sixth grade after moving from Sunnydale," she remarked, briefly clasping his hand and standing up, heading to the window, "so you can take his word for it once in a while. Hey, why do I see Gunn parking your car?" she asked, drifting off to a completely different subject, as she made a little crack between the curtains to peek outside.

"I asked him to drive Willow home. I didn't want her to take a bus again and since driving her myself was never an option…"

"Cuz of the burst-into-flames factor," the Slayer inserted, securing the curtains again and backing away from the window.

"Yeah, that," the vampire acknowledged. "I asked Gunn to drive her."

"She could have said bye," Buffy remarked, in a small, childlike voice.

"She didn't want to wake you up," Angel said. "So she…asked me to tell you for her."

She smiled and waved her hand. "Never mind, anyway. I still need to talk to her about some stuff, I'll call her later today. And now spill."

Angel stared at her in surprise for several seconds as if not understanding what she was talking about.

Buffy didn't say anything more, just held his gaze firmly, until he gave in, sighing. "It's Darla."

"Darla," she repeated the name to herself.

"She tried to reach me…last night…apparently," he stressfully combed a hand through his dark hair.

"W-when…last night?"

"I don't know. Wesley told me this morning. He said he didn't call me because he didn't think I could handle it at the time."

"Buy Wes a fruit-basket – check," Buffy noted, and at Angel's slightly hurt expression, added softly, "He did the right thing."

"That's not the point. She…she needed my help. I should have been there for her. I wasn't. He should have left that choice to me."

"And we all know where that would lead," she sighed.

"No, we don't," he murmured, a little edgily.

"You can't possibly know *what* she needed." Buffy sat next to him on the bed, taking his hands in hers and looking him in the eyes. "Up until a few days ago, that woman has been manipulating your mind who knows for how long..."

"You don't know that-"

"I *do* know that," she insisted, squeezing his hands. "It's you and your nature to help everyone that's going to, again, get you into an ocean of trouble, which of course, is entirely new and unexpected. I..." she took a deep breath, "I understand you feel obligated to help her of all people, you *want* her to need your help. But...these things don't always work on want. And even if they happen to...sometimes...maybe it's better to...ignore."

"It's…it's her soul, it-it must be," he pulled his hands out of Buffy's, also breaking eye contact. "She's feeling it, she-she's scared…"

"Darla with a soul. Darla scared," the Slayer mused dryly. "Should be interesting."

"She needs me," Angel continued from where he'd left off, as if entirely unaware of Buffy's misplaced wisecrack. "She knows I'm the only one who can understand…I should have been there. I failed her," he whispered.

The Slayer swallowed hard, all mockery gone from her voice. "Then why weren't you? Why didn't you do to her?" she asked quietly, hungry for the answer more than she could bring herself to recognize. "You've had hours to reach a decision, you could have gone even during the day, if you'd wanted to, we both know it."

"I wanted to…"

"So?"

His eyes briefly came across hers, flashing her a mute answer, then he looked down again.

"She tried to contact him last night. I saw her. She doesn't know I did, but I saw her. She's slipping, it's…catching up with her."

"I imagine it is," Holland leaned back in his seat. "Though it is sooner than I expected."

The lawyer's apparent indifference didn't go unnoticed by Lindsey. Still, he couldn't allow himself to make his personal interest in the situation too perceptible. "It shouldn't be that way. She wasn't showing signs for months, how can it happen now? Besides the fact it endangers the entire operation," he maintained a business tone for the conversation.

Holland smiled. "Lindsey, there is no operation. You're missing the big picture here. Even if she still were in the state to affect him, she wouldn't be able to. *He* is not playing, hasn't been for some time, I thought you knew that. We're terminating her project. In fact, we were counting on her success in making contact last night, but…" he shrugged his shoulders. "I thought you'd be happy to hear these news," he remarked pointedly, when the expression on the younger man's face hadn't changed.

"It's the Slayer."

"Of course, it's the Slayer," Holland answered straight away. "Who knows…if she hadn't come, we might have had him on board by now. But she did. Tell me, Lindsey," he stood up slowly and walked around his desk. "Do you know what happens when you enter a courtroom?" When the other lawyer didn't answer, he went on, in the same even voice, "No matter how well you prepare your case, when you enter a court, your chances are always fifty-fifty. Your chance of winning equals your chance of losing. You're a smart boy. You'll see that sooner or later, assuming you still don't. So what happens is…that you don't always win. And we, Lindsey, as unfortunate as it is…we lost. We, obviously, didn't fully realize what we were up against. You have to give that little Slayer of his some well deserved credit," he grinned, holding up his index finger. "We shouldn't have underestimated her."

"Her arrival buried our project," Lindsey remarked sternly.

Holland eyed him casually. "Lindsey, our *project* buried our project. We did it ourselves. Blaming the girl isn't going to diminish the irony. She was a worthy rival. I must say I admire that."

"Pushing them towards each other," the younger lawyer mused, "we shouldn't have taken advantage on that opportunity, we shouldn't have done it. It was too soon, it failed."

"Oh, no, I'd say it did quite well. *We* did quite well. We executed the prophecy in the scrolls." At Lindsey's thrown gaze, the elder man smiled, "You didn't hear? Our vampire and Slayer are the proud parents-to-be of a lovely baby boy. One who, once he's grown up, will pick up his parents' mission, hunt us down one by one, and our clients, and kill us all. And if it's not too much trouble, Lindsey, please make sure *these* scrolls stay in our possession for the time being," he grinned warmly, but his eyes spoke beyond the words.

Lindsey scowled at the remark, but didn't respond to it. "She's pregnant."

"Due in nine months from now," the other man approved.

"And we do nothing about it."

"Our *policy* is to do nothing about it. Once conceived, especially after we *helped* it to be conceived, we can hardly prevent the child from being born. We have other priorities right now than attempting the impossible. Now, on the other hand, *after* the child is born," he gestured with his hand, a glint in his eyes finishing the rest of the sentence.

"It doesn't concern you," Lindsey stated, obviously not liking at all Holland approach, to stand aside and watch.

"On the contrary, I'm concerned. The Senior Partners aren't going to be very happy when they hear about these recent developments. Still, I'm a man of perspective, Lindsey. Very unfortunate, but…sometimes you lose."

Lindsey nodded, still not pleased with that arrangement, but setting it aside for what was more important in his eyes. "What's going to happen to Darla? She's too far from his center off attention now."

"Well, she would be, wouldn't she?" Holland didn't appear surprised at all. "He will become a father, naturally, the center of his attention is the mother of his child and said child. Like I said, we did it ourselves."

"Then what are you planning to do with her?"

He smiled. "Don't worry, there'll be no need to smuggle her out of the country. We'll simply move on to plan B, let those crazy kids sort things out on their own for a change. I wouldn't worry about her too much, if I were you. You said it yourself, the Slayer is the center of his attention now."

Part 17 -

"You stayed.for me?" Buffy briefly glanced up at Angel, but he wasn't looking at her. His body language conveyed a part of him regretted having told her this, but it wasn't a revelation. A part of *her* regretted she had heard that. What was she supposed to tell him now, how was she supposed to behave? When she had come to LA, only a week ago or so, the mission she set for herself was to get Darla out of his head, make him the Angel he used to be again - bring him back to what was truly important; his friends, his mission, his life. She remembered that at a point she had even thought it couldn't be done, especially after the first time she had talked to him. Nothing seemed to exist for him but Darla. He literally wouldn't see anyone or anything else, renouncing everything and everyone. But now he hadn't gone to her. Because of *her*, he hadn't gone because of *her*.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he quietly voiced her thoughts.

"I'm not sure," she admitted, both to him and to herself. And had she really wanted him to do it for *her*? Yes, as a woman, the selfish part of her did feel good inside, how could it not? But Buffy, the Slayer, who had years of practice to realize the couldn't be.that part was just scared.

"I-I couldn't go."

"Why?"

"I couldn't." he drew a deep breath, not knowing how to verbalize his thoughts without blurting out something he would never be able to take back and what worse, wouldn't want to. "I couldn't have you wake up and find out I went to.her," he ultimately settled for something in between, though inwardly he still wished he had been more careful.

"Would that bother you?." Buffy asked after a while. "What I'd think.if I found out?"

"Maybe," he whispered, not looking at her.

"This is too frustrating," she groaned, standing up and heading to the window, where she faced him with her back. Her eyes contemplated too much, they *revealed* too much, she didn't want him to see them, to see what was inside...

"I'm sorry," Angel murmured, and though he threw random glances at her, he couldn't bring himself to come closer.

"Maybe you needed.closure," Buffy found herself saying. "Maybe I was wrong, my.approach to everything was wrong. You should have gone to her," she abruptly spun around, facing him. "How can you put it behind you.ever, if I don't let you face it? You did it for me. You shouldn't have. You had to do it for you."

"I did it for me, too," Angel remarked after a long thought. "I.I couldn't leave. I watched you sleeping.all night, I sat and I." he looked up, until he finally leveled his eyes with her, "I even thought I heard a second heartbeat," he said, knowing inside it didn't make sense. But it did.to him, somehow.

Buffy's eyes dropped to her stomach and she put her palms over it, "There is no heartbeat.yet," she whispered.

"I know. But I thought I heard it.I pretended I did." He swallowed, casting his gaze away from her. "I didn't want it to stop. I never felt this way before. I never even.thought I could."

"I know. But it.it can't come on the expense of-"

"It doesn't," Angel didn't let her finish, looking up at her again. "Last night, when I was watching you, I never.I never saw things more clearly. I have a mission, I-I see that. I understand that.again. But I can't do it for you. I can't fight for you."

Buffy felt a stab through her heart at these words, as softly as they had been uttered, but only blinked and nodded slightly, sustaining her gaze on the vampire.

But Angel could still see far beyond her seemingly impassive shell. "I can't.because you don't let me, because I don't let myself. But I'm at terms with that. I have been for.a very long time. And then you came, and after all this time, I saw you again, and those old feelings came rushing back. And I suddenly felt like there hadn't really been two years since the last time I held you in my arms.and it was right. It seemed, even for just a moment, that everything that'd happened never had. Then it was gone again," he smiled slightly, taking a minute to rub the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, to conceal his eyes from her. "Everything that seemed right was wrong.again. Except for one thing," he straightened his back and looked at her, standing up. "This baby.my baby, he was the only thing that still was right. The one good thing, the *only* good thing I've ever done. And for him, or her.for this child, I will fight. And I'm gonna keep fighting. Because I love it.and I can."

The Slayer just held his gaze for a second, before her lips finally allowed themselves a tiny smile. She moved from the window and towards Angel.

She gazed at him for another second, then rose on her tiptoes and, wrapping her arms around his neck, urged his head down to softly brush her lips against his. Then she drew back and leaned in, laying her head on his chest, as he closed his arms around her, exhaling a sigh.

"I'm glad," Buffy murmured softly, abstractly stroking the tiny hair on the back of his neck with her fingertips. "I'm glad I can give you a reason.one way or another."

Angel closed his eyes, not saying anything. He just held her close.

Lindsey walked into his apartment and quietly closed the door behind him. He put his briefcase down on the floor and combed his hand through his hair, exhaling a strained breath, as his eyes roamed about the dim room as though in search for someone.

Finally locating it, his gaze rested on the back of the woman standing by the window.

"You're too early," she observed softly, though her voice didn't give away the impression it genuinely mattered to her. Or maybe it did?.

Lindsey narrowed his eyes and proceeded towards her, until he made himself stop a few feet away. He wasn't sure whether she really wanted him so close or not. "I know," he said. "I left work early."

"Why?" she asked, again, that same mysterious indifference that is not.

He swallowed. Then, avoiding the question he couldn't bring himself to answer anyway, changed the subject, "How are you?"

Darla smiled slightly, running her fingertips over the glass. "Funny."

"What is?"

"How I am.funny. I don't know how I am. I don't care. I seem to.care for so many things now, too many.but not how I am. But you do that for me, don't you?" she turned around.

He sighed. "Yeah."

"But you can't care for them.can you? You don't know how," she simply stated.

"I don't," he didn't argue.

"He does," Darla smiled again. "He doesn't care about me though." She looked Lindsey in they eyes," Does he?"

He didn't say anything, just returned her gaze with equal vacancy.

The former vampire reached out for his plastic hand and carefully picked it up, bringing it up to her face and leaning her cheek into it. "Do you feel that?" she asked, her eyes closed.

"No," he still firmly kept his eyes on her now shut ones.

"You lie," she whispered softly, as her eyes flashed open. She let go of his hand and he pulled it back. "You're.human. They all lie."

"You're human."

She laughed. "Human.I'm not human.but no one can take it away from me."

"It?"

She put his plastic hand over her heart. "It."

"I can," he said softly, covering her hand with his real one, inside wondering if he was still the one saying the words. She made him vulnerable. He had never felt that way, he had been fighting it, but he lost, with her, regardless to how much he tried to remain locked up. She still opened him. He never opened her though.

"Like they took yours?" she asked, then smiled faintly. "Except that.they didn't. They only think they did...or maybe they don't think. You're not like them." She pulled her palm from under his hand drew back from him.

Lindsey was quiet for a moment, then spoke, more confidently, more firmly, "I can help you."

Darla shook her head. "*He* can help me. You can use me."

"I never-"

"But he doesn't even remember I exist," she finished, ignoring his attempt to protest.

"No, he doesn't," Lindsey said, quickly regaining the natural unfeeling tone to his voice. While he had a chance to get back to himself, he'd do his best to seize it. "And he won't."

Darla looked up at him, a bit hurt by his words, but the little touch of pain in her eyes vanished before Lindsey could possibly distinguish it. "She took him. again. I'm not sure I care though," she frowned slightly. "It strangely doesn't. look so important now."

"What does look important?"

She shrugged. "Everything I can't get rid of. I can't go to him."

"Go to him?" Lindsey echoed, his voice slightly tinted with alarm.

Darla nodded. "To help me. I can't go to him. he won't help me."

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for breaking her the news. He had known all along he had to tell her, but he hadn't known how. He hadn't known a way that wouldn't hurt her, even though she seemed to not be able to feel *any* pain at all, or any other emotion for that matter. But a part of him still prompted him it was merely an outer shell. Took one to know one, he acknowledged with bitter irony.

"You know that he slept with her," he said, hearing his own words clearly, but unable to process he'd actually said them. Well, he could have certainly done better than *that*.

But she didn't appear to be moved by them in any sense. "I guess he did. You drove him to it, after all. He just had to-do it." She chuckled. "Must not be perfect happiness after all, ha?"

He sighed, unsure of just how it would hurt her if he answered *that* unspoken question. "She's pregnant."

Darla looked up, for a split second appearing almost affected by the news, but then it was gone. "Congratulations."

"You won't even ask me how?" he asked, puzzled by her reaction even though he'd all but predicted it.

She gazed at him strangely, "Does it really matter? She's pregnant. Congratulations. to them both. I don't care. He's not mine anymore. You know that, too. That's why you told me. You know you can't use me to get to him anymore," she grinned, and rotated with her back to him.

"No one is going to use you," he put his hand on her arm and she didn't flinch. "I'm going to help you."

"Help me," she almost laughed. "I'd like to see that." she whirled back to him, reposing her palms on his chest. "How will you help me, Lindsey? You'll bring me back to life. again? Save me from a yet another. Hell?"

He brought his both hands to her face, and mildly smoothed back her blond hair, all the while maintaining eye contact. "I will," he promised.

Part 18 -

"Wow."

"Yeah…I was gonna say that. Wow."

"They took it pretty well," Buffy mentioned in Angel's ear, as the two were still expectantly watching Cordelia and Gunn. "So far, so good."

"So far," he stressed.

"How…h-how did you do that?" Cordelia started progressively coming out of the initial shock.

Buffy cleared her throat, casting her eyes to the floor.

"God, not that!" the brunette exclaimed. "That, I don't wanna know! *Ever*."

"We…don't know yet," Wesley replied to her real question. "We'll try to find out. I'll start looking, we all should start looking as soon as we can. Perhaps there is a prophecy of some kind that…foretells the arrival of this baby…"

"Why would anyone write a prophecy about a baby?"

"Cordelia, this baby wasn't supposed to exist, or be conceived in the first place," the Slayer answered her, talking slowly like to a five-year-old child and not a woman her age. "So I'm thinking there's gotta be some moldy scroll to explain it somewhere."

"I could hit the streets, see if the word's out already," Gunn suggested. "If this kid is as big a deal as you say it is, it's enough to get our hands on any demon and fill the blanks."

"Yes-"

"Are you sure you're really…" Cordelia interrupted Wesley, gesturing at the Slayer's stomach. "I-I mean, is it really…"

"I don't know if it's really," Buffy replied, glancing down on her flat abdomen. "I don't really know how *really* is supposed to feel like. Willow says it is, and I believe her…as crazy as it sounds. I guess we wouldn't know until…we know. Besides that…green demon guy said it's real," she shrugged.

"Lorne says she's pregnant," Angel confirmed, having gone to see the Host together with the Slayer come sundown that same evening. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell them what they really wanted to know. He couldn't explain how the baby was conceived, or even if it truly was human or not. "He couldn't tell us anything more though. He basically ratified what Willow said…what we already knew."

"What'd you sing?" Cordelia grinned, jumping on the opportunity.

"*That* goes with me to the grave," Buffy smirked, the steely look in her eyes making it clear the former cheerleader wouldn't hear a word about it in this lifetime. "And if you breathe anything, I'll decapitate you myself," she warned the vampire sitting next to her.

"Oh, okay," the brunette beamed, nodding. "I'll just take it you two discovered another mutual talent aside from battling the forces of evil, or should I say…the lack of it."

The vampire and Slayer exchanged a quick slightly embarrassed look, but other than that, said nothing.

"To be honest, I don't know how to take the fact even Lorne couldn't see anything," Wesley observed thoughtfully, scratching his brow.

"The only way I can take it is prolonged research mode," Buffy remarked, not appearing to be worried at all. "The big picture here is that Angel and I are gonna have a baby. If this Lorne guy can't tell us the full story, we'll just have to dig it up someplace else. Simply put," she shrugged, leaning back on the couch.

The ex-Watcher eyed her for a moment and sighed. "I suppose. It isn't like we know what else to do. Gunn, you should…do what you wanted. You should go ask around, it's a good idea, you might find out something we won't find here."

"That would be *if* we find anything," Cordelia muttered quietly.

"Gone." Gunn stood up and headed to the entrance to the hotel, a second later, disappearing outside.

"I'm sure those of us who'll be looking *will* find something," Wesley replied to Cordelia's remark with slightly annoyed sarcasm in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, *I* could have a vision. It's far more efficient than your big old books."

"Then fine, have a vision!" he challenged, while on his way into the office to retrieve some books from it.

Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him, but he pretended to overlook it.

"Okay," Buffy stood up from her seat. "I think I'll get gone, too, now."

"Where?" Angel's head snapped up in alarm though he remained sitting.

"Out," the blonde obviously wasn't too clear with her answer.

"A-alone?"

"Angel, I don't need a body-guard twenty-four-seven, I can take care of myself. I just wanna go out. I feel like finding myself a good slay somewhere. I'm much more useful in that department than a research party, trust me. Stay here?" she asked, both with her eyes and her voice and Angel knew there was no point in arguing with her, not when her mind was really set on something, anyway.

He even managed to kill off the little voice inside of him that insisted he should go with her. There was something in her eyes that confused him…it told him more than her words did. "Don't take too long," he requested softly.

She only smiled in return and exited the hotel.

"Welcome back!" Lorne grinned at the Slayer as soon as he spotted her entering the Caritas.

Buffy paused for a moment and inhaled a deep breath before making the rest of the way towards the bar, where he was sitting, waiting for her.

"Didn’t think you'd show," he remarked, then held out the glass in his hand. "Margarita?"

Buffy gave him a long look, trying to at least begin to interpret that person…demon, whatever he was and *why* he was whatever he was. "You've got a really weird sense of humor, anyone ever told you that?"

"Once or twice, honey," he grinned, gulping from his drink. "What made you change your mind?"

"What about?"

"Just told you what about. The vibes I was getting…thought you were gonna stand me up. Pretty girl like you…wouldn't look good for my rep, you know."

She swallowed, offering a slight smile, unsure of how to behave next to that demon that seemed to know more about her than she did. Sure, she had doubts…exposing her soul to someone like that wasn't exactly the most pleasant experience, especially when singing was involved. But he had told her to return later, and without Angel, and though a part of her was scared, she had known she'd come. She needed to know whatever he had to tell her and didn't want Angel to know, for better or for worse.

"So where *did* you tell my favorite soulful vamp that you're going? Never thought he'd let you out of his sight."

"Slaying," Buffy said. "And he wouldn't have much of a choice once I get back home. Now, tell me?" she put a clear end to the small-talk part of the conversation. "What didn't you want Angel to know?"

Lorne beheld her for a long moment, and Buffy had an uneasy feeling his piercing red eyes were looking right through her, but she didn't find the strength in her to tell him to stop. "There's no birth in your future, darling," he said finally.

"What do you mean, no birth?"

"No birth," he said mysteriously, and somehow Buffy knew he was telling her everything he had read. The worst part, however, was what he *hadn't* read. And that was also the part she needed to know the most.

"I'm going to lose it?" she almost didn't dare to ask.

"Didn't see that much, but I'm thinking not. Still…if I were you, I'd work on possible ways how there can be hello cruel world without the actual birth. I told you all I know."

"I'm not supposed to tell Angel?"

"You're supposed to do whatever you think you're supposed to do." He stood up, and put a hand on her shoulder, "My humble advice…think a while before telling daddy. He's not completely back on his feet yet. And even when he is, I don't think it's gonna be something that's gonna help him sleep the days off."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"Because you gotta be ready. Wait about seven months, then you're gonna know."

"Ready for what? What happens in seven months?" she asked, not completely sure she really wanted to be told that, now or ever.

The Host's answer banished that fear before it could take actual form. "That…I didn't see."

"How is she doing?" Lindsey asked Holland, walking up behind the older lawyer.

"Quite dead," he answered, not moving his eyes from Darla, who was lying on Lindsey's bed and Drusilla, who was sitting next to her, whispering to her all sorts of things that even if he could hear wouldn't make any sense to him. "You know what would happen, if she weren't turned," he commented, feeling the younger man tense next to him.

Lindsey sighed, his eyes resting on the blonde woman. She would be a vampire when she woke up, the same merciless killer she had been for four hundred years before Angel had sent her to Hell. He couldn't help but wonder what he was going to lose by giving her a chance to 'life', even though he didn't exactly *have* anything to lose. "I know."

"What is it then?"

"What if that's not what she wanted?"

"I don't remember she was resisting…do you?" Holland turned to look at him, but Lindsey's eyes didn't leave Darla's still form. "If we let her *live*, she would die. Would you want that?"

He swallowed hard, not saying anything.

"So I thought," the elder man smiled, turning back to the two vampires. "Also, she would be much more useful to us as a vampire than as a dying human."

Lindsey chuckled. "She'll have us for breakfast as a vampire if we ever even *try* to use her. If Wolfram and Hart expect cooperation from Darla now, they'll have to march to her drums, not the other way around. She won't be used unless she wants to."

"We're counting on that," Holland nodded. "As a vampire, she'll keep Angel busy in ways she couldn't do as human. His intentions will be different now. Now, they're simply enemies. He'll have no choice but to hunt her down."

"If he does, he'll kill her," Lindsey did his best to keep an even tone to his voice throughout that sentence.

"Or she will kill him," Holland disapproved.

"That won't happen, even if the Slayer doesn't stay for that showdown. You know that."

"I don't know anything, Lindsey. I'm not a fortuneteller, I'm a lawyer. I deal with facts. Sometimes I make them up. The fact I see now is that I have two vampires. Whoever kills whomever first…I have absolutely no idea. From the moment she wakes up, we're out of the picture, our part in it is played out. Then, it's strictly between the two of them."

Lindsey didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, taking the time to reflect upon everything in his head. He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd made the right choice by having not turned to Angel for help, knowing what his boss was going to do. Then again, he knew Angel well enough to know he wouldn't turn Darla even in a million years, no matter what he tried to do to convince him. She would die… He smiled inwardly, the sad part was that he really had absolutely nothing to lose.

"There has been a new development in the translation of the Nyazian scrolls," he said, moving on to a different subject.

"Oh?" Holland looked up, interested.

"The new translation seems to contradict the old one"

"What does it say?"

"It says…there will be no birth."

"No birth?" Holland cocked a brow in surprise. "It puts us in an odd position, with two completely different prophecies on our hands. One of them says the child will be born and we can't prevent it and now the recent version insists there will be no birth?"

"There will be no birth. Only death," Lindsey quoted accurately the translator's words.

"Death of whom?"

"Doesn't say."

Part 19 -

"Hey," Cordelia glanced up from her laptop at the Slayer who had just entered the hotel. "Next time when you decide to take a walk, unless it's the middle of the day, do me a favor and let him go with you. My head is exploding from the visions as it is, I *don't* need anymore headaches, really."

Buffy sighed, smiling weakly at the brunette's comment. "Where's your boss?"

Cordelia left the laptop and leaned over to the Slayer across the counter. "I think he's asleep," she hissed in her ear, her tone reflecting complete disbelief. "Seriously," she drew back a little, but still kept her voice low, "Wes checked on him about an hour ago and he said he's out like a log! I can't believe I say this, but *thank God*! I mean, I get it he's a vampire, so that's not that big a deal for him, but he hasn't slept for like three days!"

"With everything that happened with Buffy *and* with Darla, no wonder Angel's been a little on edge these last few days," Wesley observed, as he joined the two women, coming down from the second floor.

"Still asleep?" Cordelia asked to make sure.

He nodded. "Seems that way."

"He took Darla being turned into a vampire pretty hard," the former cheerleader observed.

"Of course, he would. Darla had everything he doesn't even dare to dream about, she was *human*, Cordelia." Wesley paused, to let the full meaning of his words sink in. He glanced at Buffy and her eyes shared his thoughts even before he spoke them out loud, she knew only too well what was going on in the vampire's head. "She was human, and she gave it all away. In Angel's eyes, she's got a chance at redemption, something he's been working so hard to earn for himself. She had a breathing, living body, a heartbeat…and she gave it up to become a vampire again. She had what he wants the most and she threw it away."

"Full brood mode again then," Cordelia observed with a nod, then rolled her eyes. "No matter *what* she is, she still drives him nuts. Give the man an annoying blonde at a time and it'll do the trick."

"I think you're on the pattern here, Cordy," the Slayer smirked. "Since you got the annoying part covered pretty well, just dye your hair blond and I can go home safely."

Before Cordelia could answer, Wesley interfered. "Speaking of home, Buffy, Willow called while you were gone."

"What'd she want?"

"She…" he scratched the back of his head, "well, she wouldn't say what it was, she just…said it was very urgent, just asked you to call her as soon as you came back."

"That's weird," Buffy frowned, reaching for the phone and dialing the number. After a few seconds, the other end of the line answered, but it wasn't Willow. "Tara?… - Umm…is Willow there?… - Do you know where she is?… - Okay, um…do you know what she wanted?"

Wesley and Cordelia watched intently as her expression was progressively dissolving from natural to apprehensive, almost terrified.

"A-a…are you sure? God… - How is she?... - Okay. Okay, I'll be there. I'll be there soon. Bye, Tara." Buffy sniffed and averted her gaze, putting down the receiver.

"What's wrong?" Wesley was the first to ask.

"M-my mom," she mumbled, still not looking at him. "S-she's in the hospital. H-her headaches, they're…more than just headaches." Her head shot up abruptly. "I have to go home."

"Yes…yes, of course, you should," the former Watcher put a hand on her arm. "You should be with your family."

"We'll…be good here," Cordelia confirmed softly. "We promise not to have a crisis. Y-you can…come back later. We'll have a crisis then."

"You guys will tell him I'm gone?" Buffy asked the two co-workers, thought the three of them knew it was more a request than a question.

"Shouldn't you better tell him yourself?" the brunette made a careful suggestion.

Buffy sighed, as her gaze wandered up the stairs to the second floor. "We were never really good with goodbyes."

"Hello, Lindsey."

Lindsey's eyes gradually moved from the floor to the front door of his apartment, where the voice came from. His expression unchangeable, he just looked away again.

"You won't invite me in?" she asked, brushing her forefinger over the doorframe.

"You were made in this apartment, as far as I can recall, you don't need a verbal invitation."

Darla smiled and overstepped the threshold. "True. I thought you'd reverse it by now."

"And why would I do that?" he groaned, standing up and putting his glass of whiskey down on the counter.

The vampire flashed him another smile and emitting a soft sigh, sat down in an armchair, folding her long legs over each other and leaning back on the cushions. "How about because I could snap your neck right now before you even manage to cry for mercy," she mused.

"Please do," he retorted indifferently, leaning with his elbows on the counter behind him.

Darla's smile faded and she just looked at him. "Your little rush with death is going to get you killed, Lindsey."

He let out a short dry laugh. "I think you forgot, just for a second, who I work for."

"True," she considered.

"Did you find him?"

"Angelus?" She shrugged, apathetically tapping her fingertips on her thigh. "You know I did. We met a couple of times, one of which even included his beloved Slayer. He wasn't too happy to find out you're responsible for the new and improved me though. You're hardly his favorite person now."

The lawyer chuckled, "That happens to be mutual." He emptied the rest of his drink in a single gulp. "Why did you come here?"

"You're not happy to see me, Lindsey?" she quirked a brow.

His eyes stayed on hers, silently repeating the question from before.

"I thought I'd say goodbye," she answered.

"You thought you'd let me know that you're leaving," Lindsey rephrased. "Outgrew LA so fast, Darla?"

A beam of longing played in the corners of her mouth as she sighed, "Paris…Venice, Rome…these are places you want to be in. I think I'll go pay them another visit. Haven't been to Europe for a little too long. I used to love it there, with Angelus, of course, we spent our best years there. But…we all know we don't always get what we want, do we Lindsey?" she looked him straight in the eye and the smile dissolved into nothingness. "Besides, I don't fancy the idea of seeing either him or his cheerleader again. I know that's not exactly how your bosses thought things would turn out, but…I rather to concentrate me energy elsewhere…if you don't mind."

"Figured as much," he grinned.

"You're disappointed?"

All traces of the grin were gone and impassiveness instantly took over. "Why would I be?"

Darla stood up from her seat and approached him, not tearing her eyes from his the entire time. As if driven by a force beyond his understanding, he made a step towards her and stood still, his body practically freezing inside as she put her hands on his shoulders, sliding them from there to his neck. Darla unwound Lindsey's already loose tie and tossed it to the floor, then unclasped the first few buttons of his shirt, and smoothed back the pale blue fabric, completely exposing his neck.

Lindsey drew in a deep shaky breath and brought his hands to her back, crushing her to him. He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling dazed and weak in the knees, and released the air stored in his lungs.

One of her hands clutched his shoulder while the other reached up to the back of his head, urging his neck down to her.

He let out a small moan when her fangs pierced his neck, it being the only reaction he managed. He was intoxicated. When she drank from him, he could barely acknowledge he was still alive.

Suddenly, Darla let go and pulled back, steadying him on his feet and surprising himself, Lindsey remained standing. She gazed at him, her face human again, and he returned her a gaze of utter confusion and mixed emotions, as he reached his hand to his still bleeding neck.

"Something to remember me by," she then said, and walked out of the apartment.

The Slayer quietly shut the door behind her, and made the rest of the way to the vampire's bed, trying not to make a sound. Her bag was packed outside, she even called a cab to take her to the bus station, she had no idea what she was doing here now. Hadn't she said it herself…they were never good with goodbyes?...

He was prone on the bedspread, shirtless, his muscular arms pillow his head, and he was asleep, just like Wesley had told her he would be.

Buffy took a folded comforter from a chair and spread it over the sleeping vampire. She made a step back from the bed and wrapped her arms around her middle, just watching him. She gulped, sniffing back the tears welling up in her eyes then exhaled and bent down to plant a soft kiss on his brow. "Goodbye," she whispered, and hurried back to the door.

"Stay," she heard his voice just as her hand lay on the knob.

The Slayer pulled her hand back but didn't turn around. "I can't."

Angel threw the cover back and sat up. "I'm not asking you…forever. Just until sundown. Please."

"My mom," she sniffed back more tears, but several managed to get through and rolled down her cheeks. "She's sick, I always knew there was…I need to be there…I-I can't. I'm sorry…"

He stood up, walked up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, crushing her back to him.

Buffy rotated in his arms and buried her face in his chest, tightly wrapping her arms around him. "I'm not coming back," she whispered as he was gently stroking her hair.

"I know," Angel replied after a moment. "Just stay with me…until sunset, it's just a couple of hours. I'll drive you back myself then. I promise. I-I…I know where you should be."

"Do you?" she smiled, pulling one hand from behind his back to wipe her tears. "I know where I should be…and still something always manages to drive me elsewhere."

He tightened his embrace around her, kissing her crown softly. "Jut until sundown. Please," he repeated his former request.

She held on to him for a minute, not saying anything, then she drew back, gazing up into his eyes. "Until sundown," she nodded. "Just until then."

Angel nodded, too, and took her hand, as he walked her back to the bed. He lay down, and so did she, fitting herself to the curves of his body behind her and resting her head on his outstretched arm and slipping her hand into his while his other hand rested on her abdomen.

"You can sometimes come, and see…us, if you want to," she said quietly.

"You know I will. You…you think it's a boy?" He chuckled, "I just...have this feeling, I don't really know why."

She smiled, looking down on his hand over her belly. "Could be."

"Buffy-"

"Angel-"

They both allowed a small tense laugh, then she sighed and lay her palm over his. "No matter what happened…or is happening, or ever will…I love you."

He folded his stretched arm up and across her chest and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too."

Part 20 - Epilogue - seven months later.

"He looks…a little like Angel," Willow observed, breaking the tense silence in the Summers' living room, as she was intently watching the tiny baby in her arms. "He does…doesn't he?" she searched for approval in the eyes of everyone present.

Her lover supportively squeezed her shoulder and smiled down at her, but no one else gave signs of any response at all.

"He'll have Buffy's eyes though."

Everyone turned to look at Dawn, who had just appeared in the entrance to the room.

"He-he has to," the girl mumbled humbly. The weight of everyone's eyes on her began to burden and she looked down to her feet.

"Dawn, you should be in bed," Tara observed softly, glancing at her midsection. "It's not-"

"I'm fine," Dawn winced a little, but aside from that didn't disclose any pain at all.

"What's gonna be his name?" Anya quietly asked the question from her place next to Xander.

"Connor," Willow smiled down on the baby and planted a soft kiss on his brow. "I remember…Buffy told me once, that if it were a boy, they'd name him Connor. Angel picked that name, it's…Irish. It means 'wise'…I think."

"Nice choice," Xander remarked dryly. "The kid certainly is gonna have a lot to learn."

"You…you think he knows?" his fiancee brought up another childlike question, the subject clearly being something she didn't quite know how to discuss. "Because…babies know…"

The redhead witch looked down at Connor's small sleeping face. "I don't know. He looks so peaceful…like he doesn't know anything…"

"Someone has to call Angel," Giles said.

Everyone silenced in the room at once. It was suddenly so quite it seemed they also ceased from breathing.

Connor, intimidated by the drastic change in his surroundings, started to fuss in Willow's arms, but the witch rocked him back to sleep before he made a sound.

"And tell him what exactly?" Xander jumped up from the couch, startling Anya. "Congratulations, you have a son! But his mother is *dead* because *you* were the Hell knows where when you should have helped her fight! Well, good luck with that!" he spat angrily and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. That act alone was enough for the already restless baby to start crying.

While Tara and Willow were trying their best to calm him down again, Anya quietly stood up and slipped out after her fiance.

"Let me have him," the former Watcher held out his hands and the witch passed the screaming baby over to him, at loss of what to do anymore. As soon as Giles hugged him to his chest and started rocking him, Connor silenced, only emitting quite sobs from time to time that eventually ceased completely, too.

"H-how did you do that?" Tara asked.

Giles sighed, removing his glasses with one hand, and gently patted Connor's back. "Sometimes…what they need is a father's presence…not necessarily t-the…mother's," he finished quietly.

"She didn't want to die," Willow said quietly, her eyes welling with tears.

"I heard her…talking to Angel," Dawn spoke, still having not moved from the doorway. "The-" she swallowed, "the day after mom died, they were in her room and I…eavesdropped, kinda. She knew…she knew what was gonna happen. Somehow…she knew. And she told him that…even if anything happened to her…Connor would live."

"She knew what was coming," the Englishman mused, his eyes longingly gazing out the window. "She was warning him, as much as it's possible to…warn about something like that…"

"What was she doing there?!" Willow exclaimed painfully, as tears started down her face. "She was seven months pregnant, she wasn't supposed to- I can't believe we… If Angel knew-"

"But he didn't know," Xander cut in, as he reentered the living room, holding hands with Anya. "And he was unreachable. And it killed her."

To the observing eyes of everyone, the couple reoccupied their former place on the sofa.

"There is no use blaming Angel for it," Giles took the absent vampire's side. "I myself remember a dozen times when he tried to take Buffy away from here. He offered to take Dawn, too… *She* didn't let him."

"But she was pregnant!"

Tara put a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. "She was p-pregnant…but she was the Slayer, too. She could…hold her own. And she did. S-she wanted to live…but she wanted Dawn to live, too."

All eyes slowly turned to Buffy's sister, but she soon whirled around and ran up the stairs.

"M-maybe I should…someone should go to her?" Tara started standing up.

"I don't think talking is what she needs at the moment," Giles protested, making the blonde witch sit back down. "Solitude can sometimes be a better cure for…grief. Especially when we can't even bury her," he mumbled, carefully shifting Connor on his shoulder as he sat down himself.

Everybody cast their eyes to the floor, their thoughts drifting back to that dreadful moment the day before, when they had all witnessed the Slayer jump from the tower into a portal of blinding white light. There she had vanished from their sight, had been swallowed in the light with no traces of her having ever been there at all. But as soon as the portal was closed and the light cleared, they saw a naked newborn baby lying crying on the ground where her body should have fallen. There was no other sign Buffy had ever even been there.

"I've never seen…someone being born that way," Anya commented. "Aside the fact it was premature…"

"Premature birth…premature death," Xander muttered in response.

"We can…I'll try to…I'll bring her back," Willow whispered.

"Willow-"

"Giles, a mystical force killed her, it wasn't a natural-"

"Enough!" The witch shuddered at his outburst and he lowered his voice. "I don't want to hear anything about that. Am I clear?"

She nodded, but didn't say anything. Inside she knew she wouldn't listen to him anyway. If there were the slightest chance to bring her best friend back to life, she'd grasp at every straw imaginable. If not for her, for Xander, for Giles and for Dawn, so at least for Angel, and for Connor. Being taken away from them like that was just too cruel.

"Maybe if they'd gotten back together, with her having his baby… If he'd had at least some authority over her, he'd have never let her stay here."

The redhead grinned sadly at her lover's comment. "Angel had no authority over Buffy even when they *were* together, unless she allowed him to. He's the only one of her two long-termed boyfriends who could actually live with the fact she wasn't one to be sheltered or told what to do unless she wanted to. And if she wanted to, she'd go to LA herself and stay under his care. She didn't let him get that close though. Having a baby isn't enough to bring two people together again…or together at all, not unless there's nothing else to hold them apart. Buffy and Angel never fitted that category though."

"Giles is right," Xander said, the former sarcasm gone from his voice. "Someone has to tell him. And…as much as I have a hundred reasons against and zero for, Connor has to be with his father."

"He'll be devastated," his childhood friend sighed, then looked up at him. "It'll destroy him. What if...maybe we should wait at least a few days?"

"Look, his reaction isn't going to change even if we do wait, which by the way, we can't. Whatever part Angel played in it, Connor is Buffy's son. If it were up to me, I would never give him away at all. But it's not up to me. He isn't even a day old and already has enemies, we can't protect him. Angel can."

"Xander has a point," Giles seconded the younger man. "We can't protect Connor. Angel will protect him with his life, if necessary, and though I want him to stay here too, I *don't* want him to die. His father can make sure that won't happen. Still, I…I don't know how we can possibly tell him something like that. It will be…devastating is an understatement."

"We're gonna have to give him that, too," Willow nodded towards the sealed white envelope on the table in front of her, labeled 'Angel' in Buffy's handwriting. "Maybe if he reads whatever's in it...maybe it'll help him..."

Xander checked his watch. "We have a couple of hours left until sundown. Last night, they mostly couldn't get in, but tonight they can burn down the place, for all I care. I say we better start thinking and we better do it fast."

"A-are you sure about that?" Fred asked hesitantly, as the group walked into the garden of the Hyperion.

"Trust me," Cordelia promised, "Tacos everywhere. And soap!"

"Yo, that portal jumping is a fun ride," Gunn observed thoughtfully. "We sell it to a theme park we could get paid."

"Okay, can I say it?" Angel pushed his way through the others towards the glass doors connecting the garden with the lobby. "I wanna say it."

"Say what?" Wesley asked from behind him, chuckling.

"There's no place like-" Angel's voice died away as he pushed the doors open and walked in.

"Willow?" Cordelia stepped up next to the vampire, just as the witch slowly rose to her feet, carefully cradling to her chest a little bundle wrapped up in blue blankets. At the redhead's expression, all the smiles were gone within an instant.

"Willow?" Angel made a few steps in her direction, but she didn't move. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, I'm Fr-" but Cordelia restrained the other woman before she could finish the sentence, holding her back just as she cheerfully stretched out her hand. Signaling for Wesley and Gunn to follow, she pulled Fred away by the hand, leaving Angel and Willow alone in the lobby.

"What's…what's wrong?" the vampire was afraid to ask, subconsciously refusing to see what was already so obvious in Willow's eyes. "What happened?"

She swallowed and stepped forward, holding her arms out for Angel, revealing the small infant hidden inside all the blankets. "Connor," she softly whispered the baby's given name and let go, leaving him secure in his father's arms.

"Angel,

I don't really know how to begin this…I guess 'hi' isn't gonna work, so…

When you're reading this, if you're reading this, it probably means I'm gone. Don't really know where I'm gone, so I can't tell you that much, but…gone as in not here.

It might look this way, but it isn't easy for me to write. I never wanted things to end this way, just like I'm sure you didn't. But hey, I never really got what I wanted, did I?

I'm going to tell you now something I haven't told anyone else, so nobody knows it but you. It might clear up a few things for you, even though I know it's probably the last thing you need right now.

You still remember the night you took me to see Lorne? Well, so you also remember he didn't tell us a lot that night, which you found weird. You were right. He told me to come back later, without you, and I did. When I did, later that night, he told me something you didn't know. He said there was no birth in my future. I didn't understand what he meant at first, but he had nothing else to tell me, just that in 7 months, I'd know.

And he was right. I did. It actually took me even less to realize our baby was never a part of me. That is…he was, just that I was here to bring him into this world, but unlike a real mother, I was never connected to him in life and death. If I died, Angel, he wouldn't. If I died…he lived in. That was what Lorne meant, my death would be his birth. There were no other ways, and there were no half ways, there was just one way – my life had to end, in order for his to begin.

And Lorne said I had 7 months, and just as that time ran out, Dawn was kidnapped, and I knew she would be killed, if I didn't do something. The pieces of the puzzle suddenly started making a perfect sense.

You see…I had to sacrifice you to save the world, I never forgave myself for that. Only 3 years later, I had to sacrifice myself. First it was your blood, then it was mine. And just like it was with you, I already know I would never get there in time to prevent that portal from being opened. That's why I'm writing this letter now, because both of us know that the only way for it to close will be to spill the same blood that opened it in the first place. My blood. Dawn's blood.

Don't blame her, Angel, please, it wasn't her fault. I already sacrificed one person I loved so much to save this sorry world, I could never sacrifice another. Most importantly, don't blame yourself. Never blame yourself. I wanted to live, I wanted to stay with you, for you…for Connor. I did, but…I couldn't. It wasn't meant to be and…I couldn't. And I'm very very sorry.

Since you're reading this letter, I guess you already have him with you by now. Could you...give him a kiss for me now?

Raise him, Angel. Raise him and love him like he should be loved, guess I was never really meant to be a mother, after all. Ironic. Sorry…

You're on your own, I'm…sadly not expecting anyone from Sunnydale to give you a hand, at least not at first, though I trust Willow to be there for you if you need anything. But you have Wesley, and Gunn…I don't really know him, but he seems a good person. And I can't believe I say this, you even have Cordelia to help you. So raise him, Angel. Be the best father you can be, because I know you can be the best, and I know you'll do everything to give him the best possible life a child can have in a world like this. And when he grows up, just…tell him I loved him.

                                                                                                                                                                                                             Love,

Buffy."

THE END.