Title - Resolutions

By - Mariah (symonk@bezeqint.net)

Disclaimer - they're not mine. Song belongs to Phil Collins, "Can't Stop Loving You".

Rating - PG?

Spoilers - up to and included "Never Leave Me" and "Rain of Fire", to be safe.

Pairing - Buffy/Angel. Mentions of Cordelia/Angel and Spike/Buffy.

Synopsis - none, really. Mostly set after "Never Leave me" and "Rain of Fire" and before "Bring On the Night". Buffy and Angel talk and some unresolved issues come up... Nothing more that I can give away, sorry:).

Feedback - yes please?

AN - I know it might be too long... but hope you like anyway;).

"I watch the leaves falling to the ground
I'm walking up and down
The streets of my hometown
You're here with me like it used to be
I look around and then
I'm on my own again"

Buffy walked into her bedroom and, sending one quick glance over to the bed, quietly closed the door behind her. She put the glass of blood on her nightstand and walked over to each window, securing the blinds from the morning sun. Finally, she clasped her hands together, exhaling the air stored in her lungs as her eyes, again, somewhat reluctantly but at the same time as though driven by force beyond her will, fell on her bed.

A small voice deep within her still insisted she was supposed to be surprised to see him that way. That way... it was almost as if nothing'd... changed. The Slayer sighed again, inwardly shaking her head at the idea. She couldn't handle heavy thoughts at the moment, and still, even after all that time, he could never do as much as glance at her without making her forget, even for a moment, there was anything but him. No matter how much she would try to hide it...

With a yet another heavy sigh escaping her lips, Buffy carefully lowered herself down on the bed, trying to disturb his sleep as little as possible. After a beat, she reached out her hand, and only partly aware of her own actions, her long fingers dived into the dark brown of his hair, gently massaging his scull, never taking her eyes off his face the entire time.

And he slept on.

She wasn't surprised last night, when after patrol, she hadn't even entered her bedroom yet and had already sensed his presence in the house, in spite of the still unsuspecting Willow and Dawn. She was even less surprised when she opened the door and found him sitting on the bed, with his back to her, and she knew he had been waiting for her to come home. True, she wasn't *supposed to be* surprised, seeing as it wasn't at all unusual for him to just appear in her bedroom out of the blue typically without previous notice. As far as her friends knew, she had lost touch with him a very long time ago. What they didn't know was that ever since she came back from what she knew as Heaven, she had been just as central a part of his life as he was of hers. Yes, they had drifted apart, each had his or her own life, each had taken a different course, but it never stopped them from being a part of each other.

When she had agreed to meet him, only several days after she'd come back, they promised each other, that no matter what, they would never part again. No matter what path they take in life, no matter how far they are, they would never lose each other again. It was one word he’d given her, one promise he'd made, that he'd kept in spite of everything. They were both aware of their feelings, and they both admitted them once and for all that night, laying all cards on the table. But she never expected to have him back, not even then, and he hadn't come to claim her. Throughout the past year, things had happened that caused her to be a stranger to herself, moments when she was terrified by her own behavior, and still, he would come to her, and hold her, even when she felt the dirtiest person on earth. Just like she would hold him when he was down, she realized. That was what's truly important. What they did afterwards, and beforehand... that didn't count. When they held each other, when they comforted and cared while appearing to be total strangers even to people who were their best friends... that counted.

Looking at him now, she suddenly wasn't so convinced she'd done the right thing in convincing him last night to go to sleep and tell her everything later. The way he'd come to her last night... Buffy honestly couldn't recall the last time she had to tend so many bruises. The sight of him alone was enough to scare her. After throwing at her best friends' the least believable last-moment's explanations out of thin air, she hadn't let her eyes rest all night long. No, for a change, Spike had nothing to do with it though a part of her still insisted it was a careless mistake to take her mind off of him so completely at a time like this. She had to admit, he was the only one with the ability to appear and twist her life irrevocably even when it seemed there was no way for things to get more complicated.

"Buffy?" Angel blinked drowsily at her and rubbed his eyes, for a moment looking as if he'd forgotten where he was.

"How are you?" she asked, pulling her hand back though they both knew it wasn't because she abruptly was embarrassed by touching him so intimately. If either of them were still concerned with intimacy issues, they'd have to remain in the denial where the mere touch of their hands didn't have their entire bodies on fire.

Seeing she was still expecting an answer, the vampire pushed himself up on his elbows. As much as it was worth, nothing hurt as it did last night. Nothing physical, anyway... As far as other things were concerned, he still hadn't set his mind on just how much of that he was going to share with her today. "I'm fine," he let her know, reaching with one hand for his shirt.

The Slayer's fingers closed over his wrist before it reached its destination and at her former lover's confused expression, wordlessly stood up and walked to her closet. She opened it and retrieved a shirt, one of his, and as if it were the most natural thing to do, handed it to him, to replace the dirty and bloody one he'd arrived in the other night. "You left it here once," she supplied the simple explanation.

"Thanks," he acknowledged, and slipped it on, not bothering to button it up, knowing her too well.

And as if on cue, Buffy pulled closer and drew open the dark lapels of the shirt, as her hands gently roamed over his wide chest, inspecting the various bruises, giving special attention to each and every one. "You heal fast," she observed, not taking her eyes off the deathly pale complexion, remembering with a shudder the blood she had to wash off it just a few hours ago.

Angel swallowed, inwardly acknowledging every single brush of her fingertips against his skin stung him so much more than any pain he could ever experience in battle. He would never get used to something even as seemingly trivial as the touch of her hand. Did she really have a healing power over him, he wondered, not even knowing where that thought had suddenly occurred to him or why. She must have something, he thought, something that gave him the strength to drive two hours to her house when he felt he was falling apart inside and was going to break any minute. Something that had promised him he would be cared for, welcomed... loved... And it wasn't wrong. "I'll be alright," he promised, gently brushed his knuckles over her cheek and tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear.

"I know that," she replied curtly. Then realizing how she sounded, looked up to meet his eyes, letting all the stress in her to completely melt away without a trace. "I just..."

"I know," he flashed her an understanding half-smile.

"Let me see that," the Slayer reached for his neck, carefully inspecting the bandage she had applied there herself hours ago and the appalling stab-wound underneath it. "God, Angel," the words escaped her lips before her mind could even process them and her fingers trembled a bit when they came in contact with the wound.

In response to that, his hand found hers and pulled it from his neck to his lap. "It'll be gone in a few hours," he promised her reassuringly, knowing all the while it wasn't enough to settle her concerns anyway.

Buffy leaned over for the glass of blood she'd brought earlier and handed it to him, waiting expectantly until he started hungrily gulping from the liquid.

"Spike's?" Angel asked knowingly between sips.

The blonde nodded, humbly looking down from the vampire for a moment, uncomfortably running a hand through her hair. "He's not in the state to miss it, anyway, really." The issue of Spike and all that concerned him was still tender between the two of them, much like the issue of Cordelia. None of them was ever easily discussed, no matter how much they sometimes tried to convince themselves otherwise.

"How's he doing?" his question came as a surprise to her.

"Okay," she offered him a weak, barely convincing shrug, then sighed, "or not really. I don't know, I guess you're the only one who can relate to... you know," she made a gesture with her hand, then added quietly, "I guess it's not exactly the same though... seeing as you didn't *ask* for it. The First is only making it worse, but I guess there isn't much I can do about that. I do what I can, or... did." She shrugged again, rubbing her palms together in her lap. "There is nothing I can do anymore. He's... gone."

"Gone?"

"As in missing," she clarified. "Probably by the First Evil." She answered the question with minimal details, clearly not willing to discuss that subject.

He nodded at that, sighing quietly. Apparently, he could pretend all he wanted he wanted to hear about Spike, inside he was as willing as she was willing to hear about Cordelia though there was no comparison between the two. He was jealous of his Grand-Childe, in spite of that Buffy had assured him he no longer had a single reason to, not that he ever had, and that there was nothing between them anymore. He couldn't help it. Could he ever, whenever it had to do with her... probably not.

"You're scaring me."

Angel looked up, realizing he was too deep in his thoughts to know where that line came from.

But she was quicker than he'd expected to answer his yet unasked question. "Last night, I wouldn't even think asking you anything, the way you came to me..." She took a deep breath, and combed her hand through her hair. "I need answers, Angel, okay?"

"Anyone knows I'm here?" He seemed to utterly ignore her, which didn't play well for him at all. No one was supposed to know he was there, no one ever did, and he'd been there more times than he could count over the past year or more. Somehow they had managed to keep his visits a secret from everyone else. The fact Buffy would do everything to clear the house under whatever excuse for the time he was staying there had something to do with that, but even without that... for some reason, no one seemed to notice.

"Willow does," the Slayer surprised him, and then explained, "she wouldn't say a word. I wouldn't have told her at all, I just... things are very complicated now, with Spike, and the First and... everything. And last night, you just showed up, a complete wrack, I needed *someone* to cover for me. And that brings me right back to the fact you owe me more than one answer," her green eyes burnt pointedly into his, making sure he knew she wouldn't give him a rest until she got what she wanted. "Who the hell did this to you?"

Angel sat up, chuckling at her choice of words. A moment later, every trace of smile was gone from his face and he gravely looked at her. "I'll tell you everything later, I pro-"

"*Now*," she cut him short. "Later is not acceptable, not in your case."

"Buffy, look," the vampire moved closer to her and gathered her hands in his, bringing her chin up to meet her eyes. "I get it it's a bad time. I know you have a lot of things on your mind right now, a lot of things that are crucial and important to you, and I know that me popping up here isn't exactly what you had in mind to make everything better..."

"What's your point, Angel?" she rolled her eyes, knowing all the while he was trying to escape the answer she was looking for, being the reason for the question sounding colder than she'd intended.

"My point is that I didn't come here to make things worse," he said, and let go of her hands. "Maybe what's happening to me back in LA has something to do with what's going on in Sunnydale. Maybe not, I don't know, Buffy, I don't think we'll ever know until we have to face them both at once."

The Slayer stood up, emitting a quiet groan of annoyance in response to his words. "You're right, Angel, you're not making things better," she observed bitingly as she stood with her back to him."

He pushed himself up from the bed, wincing slightly at the effort he put into it, and walked up to her from behind, resting his both hands on her shoulders. He wasn't looking forward to telling her stories about the Beast, in fact, he was trying to erase every memory he had of that night and somehow that thought always drove him farther and farther from the battle itself and onto something else entirely. Something he *really* didn't know how to talk to her about. He knew she'd listen, he knew she'd care, just like he knew she'd take him in when he appeared in her bedroom the night before even though he'd known there was too much weighting her shoulders already even without him adding his trouble to the mix. A part of him was so hungry for that, for that something he was unable to put into words, something only she had to offer, that it was willing and ready to take advantage on her weakness towards him, the same one he had regarding her. The other part just wanted to talk, and for her to listen. He seldom wondered whether these two parts of him were in fact the same one... "You know I don't hide anything from you. Especially not in a time like this, I didn't come here for that."

Buffy sharply spun around, shaking his hands off of her in the process. "I *know* that you came to me last night with a two-inch stab wound in your throat and bleeding allover, *that* isn't a picture I can easily forget!" she forced her voice down before allowing her anger to have the better of her. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around her middle, just as his enfolded her and pulled her to his chest. Quickly collecting herself, the Slayer pushed herself off of the vampire and gazed up to meet his eyes. "Just tell me," she asked softly, trying to read into his soul past what she knew he was hiding. "Please."

"Buffy, I... I don't know what this is," he admitted defeat. "We fought it for the first time last night and-"

"We?"

"Lorne, Wes, Gunn and I."

"Wes, too, ha," she quirked a brow and the vampire pretended to overlook it.

He wasn't getting into *that* now. He himself didn't exactly expect his former best friend to show up and offer help when they needed it the most. Truth to be told, he didn't know what to expect and from whom after last night... He settled on a weak nod instead of a more detailed answer. "I probably should have stayed with them, now that I think about it." He sat down on the bed, running a hand through his hair and looking down on his feet. "I shouldn't have left them like that, they don't even know-"

"They do," she sat down next to him and lay a hand of his knee, claiming his attention. When he just stared at her, she explained, "Judging by the way I found you, I figured you didn't waste much time on letting your friends know where you were going. I called the hotel as soon as you fell asleep. It was good I did, they were worried sick, Angel, you can't just... take off like that..."

"I wasn't thinking," he muttered, averting his eyes from her again. And it was true. He really wasn't thinking, not about that. Had he given it a moment's thought, he would never have left his friends in a crisis, let alone without even telling them where he was going. His brain seemed to only be functioning enough to get him into the car, start it and drive all the way to Sunnydale. He wasn't thinking about what he was leaving behind. *Now* he might think it was careless and stupid, that he mustn't have done it. These same thoughts seemed to be absent from his self consciousness back then though.

"You guys don't even have a lead on that?" the Slayer attempted a subtler approach to interrogation when she realized pushing him wouldn't do much good. "From what I was able to get from Wes, they have yet to move past square one."

He laughed dryly, shaking his head. "So what possibly makes you think I know more?"

"Nothing," she admitted ultimately. "I just wanna know what to pummel when I see it, preferably *before* it stabs one of the nearest and dearest to me who doesn't happen to be immortal."

"Cordy had a vision," he supplied, and before the blonde could throw in something typically cynical in response to the mentioned name, he continued. "It wasn't too clear either. Still, whatever that Beast is... it came from inside the earth, clawed its way all the way from the hell knows where, no pun intended. As much as that helps you."

"From beneath you, it devours..." she murmured to herself, her attention seemingly utterly disconnected from the vampire as a mysterious faraway look dimmed her eyes.

He studied her quizzically for a moment before giving up guessing. "What?"

"No-nothing," she shook her head. "I... don't know what I was thinking about, just that... everything that's been going on around here the past few months, it all comes back to that," she attempted to explain. "From beneath you, it devours."

"Where did you pick that up?"

"See, that's just it, I can't even remember anymore, I think it was my dream, which immediately equals bad," she threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I don't know what it means, I don't even know where to start looking. Pretty much, the first clue I ever got was your guy. That aside, I'm as lost as I could ever be. So welcome to my club," she finished sarcastically.

"We'll get through this," he promised, as is hand found hers and clasped it gently, comfortingly.

She glanced at him doubtfully in response. "I don't know, Angel. I just don't know. I thought I was strong, that I was only getting stronger... I thought it was all about power, I have it, they don't. But even I don't know anymore."

"I do," he assured. "And we'll make it. I have no idea how, but whatever's coming, we'll make it. Together," he added after a beat, clasping her hand again to reinforce his words.

"Together," her lips twitched up in the strangest resemblance to a smile, and the question that followed surprised even herself. "You sure you didn't mean you and Cordelia?"

The vampire groaned, letting the Slayer's hand slip out of his as he drew it to his head to rub his brow tiredly. "I *really* don't wanna talk about that," he lied.

And she knew it.

"Why? Because you know *I* don't wanna talk about that?" Inside, she didn't even know why and *how* had Cordelia become the center of their conversation all of a sudden, she didn't know why that sudden interest in her former classmate had hit her. But she could see it in his eyes there was something he was hiding, something that wasn't right... And the woman in her, *his* woman, would do *anything* to find out what that was. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Angel, I'm a big girl. Your new and improved idea of 'true love' in the form of Cordelia Chase, no less, doesn't impress me one bit," she used her turn to lie.

And he knew that.

"Buffy, really... let's just... drop it. Okay?"

"Why?" she persisted innocently, but Angel could clearly descry the familiar dangerous glimpse of darkness in her green orbs. She wasn't going to give the subject a rest until she said *everything* she'd been keeping inside for however long it's been. "We've been over it, you wanna get it on with Cordelia, you have my blessing. As long as I never lose you..."

"You'll never lose me," he said quietly, without looking at her, and then added, "you never did."

"Fine," she nodded, but he caught a glint of smile in her eyes and he knew she took his words for all they meant. "Point is, I've been banging Spike for almost a year, so I'm really not in the position to tell you not to choose Cordelia as your... whatever you decide to call her," she waved her hand. "Besides, since she's gone all glowy and pure and good and... demonized, and... since at a point even I stopped keeping track of her growing qualities, you fill the blanks on whatever else's happened to her..."

"Buffy," Angel interrupted her trace of thought, a slight shade of warning in his voice. "World in peril, remember?" he brought her attention back to their previous topic of discussion and hopefully as far as he could from Cordelia. But all along, he knew he'd fail miserably...

"Well, world's gonna have to wait," came her quick response, leaving him with no choice but to give in.

"You're behaving like a kid, Buffy," he sighed, and made a couple of steps in the direction of the window.

"Am I?" she shot him a glance of mocking disbelief, but although aimed to his face, it landed on his broad back instead. "I bet Cordelia never does. Because she's so *mature*-"

"You know," he whirled around, cutting her in mid sentence. "I came here last night because the only thing I could think of that moment was to see you. To be with you. But maybe now really is a bad time."

The Slayer caught him glance at the window with the corner of her eye, and she knew at least a part of what he had just said, he was also thinking. Looking down at the floor, she sighed quietly, smoothing her hair back with her palms. "You brushed her off, Angel. Remember that? She was the girl that used to drool all over you and you brushed her off, time and again, to be with me, because *you* wanted to be with me." She could sense his eyes on her and even though she still hadn't looked up, she knew for certain she now had his complete attention. "Years ago," she continues evenly, "you could have either of us. You remember that. And you picked me. You *chose* to be with me, while hell, any other guy would probably fall for her act at least a dozen times. Why, Angel?" she looked up, meeting his eyes. "You said you loved me, that you wanted *me*, that she wasn't even a competition. Why did you do all that?"

The vampire didn't answer for several moments, that subconsciously made the Slayer even more demanding than before. She had promised herself a hundred times to *never* attack him about Cordelia, just like he would never do that to her when Spike was concerned. She had no idea what suddenly came up on her, what drove her to this topic, to ask all those questions she never had. And even more important, why did the answers to those questions suddenly seemed so necessary?...

"Do you even remember how to love me anymore?" she asked quietly, and *that* finally drew a response from him. The muscles of his back stiffened slightly and though to the unknowing eye it would appear nothing had changed, Buffy knew it hit him harder than she'd intended it to. But she wouldn't stop. Not now. "Do you, Angel?" she prodded. "Or did I just... happen to come first?"

After a beat, Angel turned around, but didn't move an inch from where he was standing, his eyes intently boring into hers until she had to conquer the pressing urge to turn away. "I never loved anyone the way I loved you," he said, his voice low, with a barely audible trace of fire and danger. "And I never will. I never *can*. Let it be Cordelia, or *anyone* else."

"Then why did you choose her?" she asked huskily, fighting for composure to keep her cool and not reveal everything these words made her feel right out into the open. As if he didn't know...

"I didn't," was his reply.

"Really?" her eyes narrowed, a bit mockingly. "Because you know, you could have either of us. Again."

"You promised me we would never raise this subject again, Buffy, you-"

"I was scared!" she interrupted him, not even realizing as she jumped to her feet in exasperation.

He came up to her, drawing nearer until there was barely a space left between the two of them. "And now you're not?" he asked her quietly, his voice alone daring enough for her to back off.

Buffy held Angel's gaze for another moment before taking a step back from him. "I don't know," she said finally. "I didn't want us to be together because I didn't want us to end up where we had before. I couldn't have that again, I thought we agreed on that."

"We did," he nodded. "But nothing has changed."

"Nothing has," she slightly shook her head. "Except for you. Sometimes I'm not sure I even know you anymore."

He gazed at her for a long moment, then gently took her hand in his and sat back down on the bed, pulling her after him. "She's... convenient, Buffy..."

"'Love the one you're with' convenient?" she prompted wryly. "Because I don't buy that."

"I don't know," he shrugged, never letting go off her hand. "All I know is that I can't be with the one I love, not yet, anyway. And there's a part of me, a part that you nourished, that... just doesn't want to be alone anymore." The vampire paused momentarily, to inhale a breath of unnecessary air before proceeding, but was cut off by the Slayer just as he was about to open his mouth again.

"You remember months ago, right after Wes pulled you out of the ocean and brought you home?"

Angel gazed up at her face, trying to steal a glance into her eyes to maybe there find the smallest clue for what she was referring to. There was something strangely both familiar and distant at the same time in her voice, something that subconsciously prepared him for a revelation he wasn't going to like. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

Her lips curved slightly in a somewhat rueful smile, but she never looked him in the eye. "I was there. You don't remember, I guess. How could you, you were out most of the time..." she contemplated to herself.

"You were there," the vampire echoed quietly, looking away from her as though trying to adjust to this newly acquired information.

"I spent hours sitting on your bed, just watching you," Buffy continued, not in particularly caring his confusion prevented him from giving her his full attention. "You're lucky you don't remember that much from that time. You should have never faced Connor that early, but you did and..." she sighed and slightly shook her head, realizing she was getting sidetracked. "You whispered my name in your dreams... delusions, however you wanna call them. When I would lay down next to you and wrap you in my arms, your whole being would respond to me, I felt that." She allowed a flicker of that same rueful smile before lifting her eyes to meet his. "Do you know why I wasn't there when you opened your eyes?"

Angel just stared at her, not knowing what to expect. "No."

"Because you called *her*. One night, I was in your bed, I was holding you, and you had your head on my chest and you were asleep, and you must have been so calm I've drifted into sleep, too. But I heard you mumble something and it woke me up. And when your words started making sense to me, I heard her name. You were calling her, you said you needed her." Her eyes bore into his for a second as if challenging him to say it wasn't so, or to say anything... and inside, she knew he never would. There wasn't anything he *could* say, after all. "I don't know if you were conscious, or delirious... truth is, I'm not sure I care, even now. You'll never know how much it hurt me, how every *word* slashed through my heart like a knife," she muttered hoarsely, averting her eyes from him when she felt them beginning to water up. She couldn't let him see her cry, not because of him... not anymore. "I left that night," she said, when she stabilized her voice again. "I hadn't come back until you called me weeks later."

For several moments, Angel hadn't said anything at all. At first, his mind endeavored to search deep in the layers of his memory back to the time he had spent in her arms like she'd said. No matter how hard he tried, nothing came up but a distant feeling of true completeness that seemed to have been with him from before forever. Was it a dream, was it a memory? Even that much he couldn't tell. But then his mind halted on another moment in time, different from the one she was describing, and yet very much alike, and he couldn't help the ironic chuckle that escaped his lips at that memory. "The last time we saw each other, Buffy, you remember that?" he turned at her with the question, knowing it wasn't at all what she had been expecting to hear. "The last time, before I so-called disappeared that Summer."

"I was *drunk*," she muttered, already picking up his lead. The night he was trying to bring up had been haunting her ever since it had happened, the last thing she needed was for it to be thrown in her face and by *him*, of all people. Never-mind what she had just done wasn't that different...

"Yeah," he laughed, dryly, so much it almost scared her. "But drunk or not, everything down to the minor details of your sex sessions with Spike left me probably right where you wanted me." The Vampire clenched his hands in fists recalling that 'accidental' meeting in a graveyard in Sunnydale where he'd followed her to from her house. She'd never told him why she'd come there that night with only one actual purpose - to get drunk, on other hand, he'd never insisted she would. But that night haunted him at least as much as it did her. "You thought that after you treated me the way you did, I wouldn't turn to Cordelia again?"

She nodded, smirking sarcastically to herself. "So it's my fault."

"I never said that-"

"You didn't?" she challenged, standing up and facing him. "The way I see it, I provoked you with Spike so you decided to play a little payback on me, am I wrong? You know what though, unfortunately for you, hallucinatives are usually known for speaking the truth."

"So are drunks," he retorted flatly, leaving her speechless enough not to intervene in his speech again. "Drunk or not, *you* tore *my* heart out that night, and ripped it in shreds. And you were *thrilled*."

The blonde swallowed, never tearing her eyes off him. Should she tell him how she'd cried herself to sleep that night, and for days and nights after he'd taken off and left her alone in that cemetery to battle the demons she still hadn't managed to throw at him? Would she ever?

"The point is, Buffy, if we start reminding the other of their mistakes, it'll never end. You know it, I know it." She noticed his voice lost of its emotion as he was saying these words, and inwardly chuckled at that. When he was using that tone, he was always trying to avoid a topic. "I've forgiven you everything that concerns Spike in one way or another a long time ago, doesn't mean it started hurting any less every time it's brought up, like I'm sure the issue of Cordelia will never die out for you." He looked up at her and silently reached for her hand, and she didn't even realize she'd followed his request until her warm palm was cradled in the gentle cold of his. "I loved you," he stated softly, not tearing his eyes from hers. "When my mouth spoke her name, my heart loved you. And you knew that. And I knew that you loved me, no matter how much you hurt me, when you talked about him. That's why I came back. That's why you came back." He let go of her hand, and his eyes drifted away for a moment. "What I really feel for Cordelia... I don't know what that is," completely sliding off the current topic, he returned to her question, "especially not now. It's not important anymore."

"How come?" she pried softly, no longer even a little aggressively.

"Nothing is ever gonna happen between Cordy and I. So whatever I do or don't feel for her... that really doesn't matter."

She rolled her eyes, "Dammit, Angel, can you just give me a straight answer *once*?"

He laughed and stood up. Leaning his back against the wall, he folded his arms on his chest, never taking his eyes off hers though every trace of laughter was now absent from them. "She slept with my son. How's that for a start?" He didn't appear to be impressed even when the Slayer's eyes widened in almost horrified disbelief. "Wanna know why she slept with him?" Without waiting for a response from the Slayer, the vampire continued in the same even voice, "Because according to her, she loves me, but can't be with me. You know why? Because of everything *I* did. Because of everything my demon did. She said she... experienced everything while being on her... higher plain. She apparently can't be with someone... who did all that."

"Okay," Buffy raised her palms in form of defense in front of her. "Connor issues aside... that's just too disgusting for me to conceive, let alone discuss, the woman had a mother's role in his life and now..." she drew in a sharp breath. "I still have to get pass that." As her hands returned to the sides of her body, her green orbs flashed with something resembling true anger and Angel already knew what she was about to say next. "Now, that... *that* was the *biggest* load of *crap* I've heard in my life!"

He offered her a weak smile, but his eyes betrayed him and it only caused her anger to rise.

"Bitch."

Angel quirked a brow at that but his mouth didn't seem to cooperate with a reply.

Buffy sighed, shaking her head, still in disbelief. "So that's it, Angel? That's love?"

"As you can see, at the moment, it's nothing," he said. "Did I take it for love once? Yeah, I did. Will I again? Hell, I don't even know what I'm gonna do with it. I don't anymore though, or I just don't know. And I don't even know if *that* had a part as big in this supposedly change as you think."

"You know... No matter how much you tried to change it, there will always be this part of you, as small as it may be, that feels you *own* something to people, or should I say to certain people, that you're supposed to take every crap they throw at you."

"How about we don't go there?"

"How about we do?" She sharply cut him off. "You let her get away with walking over you and you call that love. That's *not* love-"

"Why?" It was his turn to interrupt her. "Because she doesn't want a relationship with a killer, well it just happens *I* can understand that!"

"A ki-" she stared at him with disbelief before finishing her words again. "You're not-"

"Yeah, well, I *almost* started believing that one time, even I could be *not*," he replied sarcastically. "But then she opened my eyes to what's really going on. Between you and I, Buffy. Somewhere in all this, she was right."

"You know what I think?" She made two steps in his direction, stopping only inches away from him and folding her arms challengingly. "You may have been born somewhere back in the dark ages, but your knowledge of certain things, love among them, is slimmer than mine. Your *idea* of love is more twisted than my own, and *I* fucked *Spike*. So you know what?" she stepped back. "Let me tell *you* something about love, okay? When you love someone, you love them completely, you love them with everything they did, everything they do and everything they will do. You love them with your heart, body and soul, you love in them even what you *hate*."

"You can't compare you and I to me and Cordelia..."

"Like hell, I can't!" she spat. "You think I never knew your demon, you think I never got the taste of it, *first hand*?! So don't you, or she, *dare* to tell me I don't know! Remember, Angel, *everything* you did, you did it to me. And you wanna skip back in time, fine, we can go there, we can go back to Christmas four years ago, you game?"

His orbs darkened with pain at the memory of everything she'd just awakened in him, but she didn't seem to care. On the contrary, it set her off even more.

"I've been through *everything* with you these nights and you know it, you know there were much more than three or two dreams, Angel. And in all of them, I was there. I saw it, I *felt* it, I lived it. And after all of this, I was still there, on that hilltop, *pleading* with you to get inside!" Her eyes stung from the overflow of tears, that almost utterly unnoticed by her streamed down her cheeks. The vampire tried to reach for her, but she darted back and didn't let him touch her. "I loved you," she said quietly, brushing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I loved you more than anything in this life. And there was a time when you loved me like that. I know what *I* feel. I *don't* know what you feel for me now, Angel, the time when I could look into your eyes and know is over because you don't let me *see* anymore. But if you can call what she feels for you, or what you feel for her 'love'-"

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her over to him, cutting off her speech. "You wanna know love?" he hissed, his voice low and almost dangerous, his lips almost caressing hers as he spoke, his fingers cutting into her flesh in a way it should hurt but he knew she didn't even feel it. Her orbs were lost in his and surprisingly, so was she. Completely. "When I watched your hair shimmering in the sun as you walked down the steps of your high school, that was love. When I leaned down to kiss you for the first time, putting my entire trust in that kiss, *that* was love, and the same love was when the cross I gave you burnt its imprint into my chest. When you denied a fairytale, that was love, and there was love when you looked at my true face and your hand gently stroked my cheek! There was love in your tears when you thrust that sword through me and there was love in your eyes when you promised me always! And there was love in your eyes when you held my hand in the snow! Nothing can ever take its place, do you understand that?" He finally released her shoulders and made a step back. Looking at her softly, yet firmly, he added quietly, "Not a hundred Cordelias can take that away from me. No matter who is waiting for me when I head back to LA... she will *never* be you."

The Slayer sniffed back her tears, inhaling a deep shaky sigh. Finally, she made a step forward, and hesitantly inclined her head on his chest, encircling her arms around his waist. It seemed to her her heart hadn't resumed beating until he didn't wrap her in his arms, too. They stood like that for a while, not talking at all, barely breathing, just savoring the other's presence.

"Will I ever hear you promise me always?" she asked, her voice almost too faint for his ears to pick up.

He didn't answer, just tenderly pressed his lips against her skull. "I can promise you love."

"Your face I see in my memory
I close my eyes and then
I start to live again
You're holding me like it used to be
I open my eyes and then
I'm on my own again"

THE END.