Midnight Sun

Author: Jill
Disclaimer: let me check ... nope, still don't own them. Sigh! Parts of this are taken from the Angel-season-3-episode "Heartthrob" and the "Buffy-season-6-episode "Bargaining - both parts". They're not mine. They were written by wonderful authors who (sometimes) do a splendid job for the two shows. I'm not making any money off this.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: B/A (strong in this part!), and the usual pairings from the show
Distribution: my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), Land of Denial, if you have any of my stories, take it; anybody else tell me where it goes
Summary: Set within the Angel-season-three episode, "Heartthrob" and the Buffy-season-6-episode "Bargaining".. After returning from his trip to Tibet, Angel still has issues to work through, while the Sunnydale gang is busy interfering with nature. This is set into canon, in an attempt to make the whole series more B/A-friendly. But don't expect too many smootchies!
Spoilers: the whole B/A-canon to be sure, follows loosely "Midnight Angel", "Midnight Whispers", "Midnight Rainbow", "Midnight Hour", "Midnight Memory", "Midnight Protector", "Midnight Letter", "Midnight Encounters", "Midnight Eyes, "Midnight Lovers", "Midnight Kiss", "Midnight Song", "Midnight Rose", and "Midnight Velvet". You should probably read it to understand this. And you should have seen season 6/3 or at least read the transcripts (http://www.psyche.kn-bremen.de), or you won't know what they're talking about.
Feedback: oh yes, please

Author's note (gee, another one!): As this is going to be some sort of rewrite of seasons 3/6, I will be taking parts of several episodes and include them into this. I'm also going to use characters, like James or Holtz, or whoever there is. I won't however go with each episode, as I did it in seaons 2/5. With the shows now running on different networks, it's hard to find the connection regarding the timeline. So I made my own timeline. AND I'm going to change several events. You will see as soon as you read the stories. And now, enjoy!

Author's note 2: as explained above, the timeline-thing is tricky now with the two networks. Because of this mess, this story covers the Angel-season-3 episodes "Heartthrob", "This Vision Thing", "This old Gang of Mine", and "Carpe Noctem", while for Buffy-season-6 it only deals with "Bargaining - Part 1 and 2". To make it more visible for you I've given small inserts from the Buffy-episode, so you can see the timeline I'm making up here. But of course this part mainly deals with Angel, as he is alive at the moment. All the Buffy-stuff will come later in the following stories.

Angel had to grin when he heard Cordelia scream and then saw her stare at him as if he was a ghost. Then a smile crept up her features as well, "You're back," she exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. He hugged her, too, for a moment, then let go and shifted the bag on his shoulder.

"You guys," Cordelia shouted, pulling back from him. "He's back!"

"Wesley," Angel greeted his friend and hugged him too.

"Welcome home," the former watcher said, his voice full of emotion.

The next in the row was Gunn, who hugged him as well, and patted him on the shoulder, "Hey, whassup, man?," he asked.

Angel smiled at him, then began to walk towards the lobby, the others following him. "So, I hope you had a good retreat, all peaceful and mediate-y?," Cordelia inquired.

Not really looking forward sharing his experiences, the vampire said evasively, "It was all right, you know, until the monks turned out to be life-sucking Shur-hod demons."

"Oh," Wesley looked startled.

Gunn gave Angel a "duh"-look, and simply said, "Vegas."

Angel chuckled, not really agreeing with his friend, but still nodding, "Yeah." It was better then being forced into spilling his guts.

"Well," Cordelia smiled, "The point is, you worked on things."

Angel grinned inwardly, started to dig into his bag, when she went on, "It wasn't like a holiday where you'd come back home, to your friends, you know, with … some … small mementos of your trip-"

The vampire chuckled again, "Fishing for gifts?"

She beamed, "Yes!"

His hand came out of the bad, handing her something, and she eyed it dubiously, "Uh … A small … uh … human head?"

Realising his mistake, Angel quickly took it back, and tossed it toward Gunn, giving the brunette an apologetic look, then dangling a necklace in front of her face.

Gasping, her face broke into a radiant smile, and he had to smile as well, "Oh, my gosh, it's … gorgeous," she exclaimed, and held it around her neck. "And look how it brings out my breasts."

When the guys looked at her oddly, she giggled, "You know you were thinking it. Thank you," she gave Angel another beam.

Finally Angel handed a dagger to Wesley, whose face took on an expression of excitement, "Sixteenth century!," he exclaimed, "Angel! Murshan Dynasty?" He grinned, "I've always wanted one of those. I didn't think you-" He cut himself off, swished the dagger through the air, making Angel and Gunn lean away from him. "Oh, I can't wait to kill something with it," he said, and leaning towards Cordy, he asked, "Any visions brewing?"

Cordy gave him a dirty look, still fiddling with the clasp on her necklace.

Angel chuckled again, then slightly shook his head, and looked around. Everything seemed alright, even fine, and yet everything was different. Would never be the same again. For a moment he wondered if coming home had been such a good idea after all, but he forced the thought down, and himself to say, "Place looks good. How's Fred?"

"Uh," Cordelia gave him an odd look. "Good. She's doing well."

"Hasn't come out of her room yet, huh?"

"Not what you'd call frequently," the brunette admitted on a sigh. "Well, we send up a lot of tacos."

The vampire nodded, "I'll settle in and check on her, then you guys can bring me up to date." Then realizing the expectant looks of his friends, he reminded himself what he owed them, and smiled, "It's really good to see you guys." With this he turned and walked up the stairs.

Gunn, still admiring the head, shouted, "Thanks for the head, bro."

"He seems better than when he left," Wesley commented softly.

"Uh-huh," Cordelia said, but her concerned gaze rested on Angel's retreating form. They could say what they wanted. Angel appeared happy. But somehow she couldn't shake off the feeling that half of his behavior had been show. And she didn't like it. Not at all.

*****

Buffybot waked after the rest of the gang through the graveyard. "Ooh, who's there?," she asked.

Xander sighed, turned towards Spike, "You know, if we want her to be exactly-"

"She'll never be exactly," the vampire replied, more forcefully than he'd intended.

Xander sighed again, his shoulder slumping, "I know."

"The only really real Buffy is real Buffy," Tara said thoughtfully, walking ahead.

"And she's gone," Giles said, feeling like a very old man.

*****

Angel stared at the heart-shaped necklace in his hand, a sign of ever-lasting love, of undying devotion and he wondered, not for the first time if coming back home had been a good idea. He felt as if everything came tumbling down on him, crushing him. The routine around him was healthy, but for him it felt wrong. He heard the rustle of sheets and knew Cordelia was busy with paperwork.

He stared at the locket again, remembered the night James had given it to Elizabeth, remembering another night, when he'd given something to Buffy. A silver cross. She'd worn it. He knew it, had felt it burn his skin. Had she given it away, he wondered now. He hadn't seen it on her again. But it hadn't really mattered, he hadn't asked, because she had been there. Now, suddenly, it seemed very important.

Elizabeth had obviously never taken off hers. Buffy had. Did that mean, their love wasn't the same, he wondered?

From the corner of his eye he saw Cordelia looking at him, starting to say something, then slightly shaking her head, turning back to her paperwork. He sighed, hating the way they were watching him all the time, "What?," he asked.

She looked at him, startled, "What?"

He sighed again, "What do you want to say?"

"Ah … uh … me? Nothing," she laughed nervously, "What makes you think I want to-"

"Because I know you," he replied dryly.

She hesitated for a moment, bit her lower lip, then stepped towards him, "It's … really none of my business."

"And that always stops you," Angel said on a chuckle.

"Actually," Cordelia said, coming closer, "It is my business. Our business. 'Cause we're trying to do a job here and what affects you affects me and … anyway … I don't like to see you suffer more than you have to. I don't think you should go on blaming yourself, or feel guilty for her death."

"I don't," he replied shortly.

She looked him in surprise, "Good. Glad to hear it."

She started walking back towards the counter, when he added, "I didn't even know who she was when I killed her."

Cordelia paused, walked back to him, "Not her," she said gently. "Angel-"

"Oh," Angel said, feeling his gut turn into one gigantic know. He clicked the locket shut, turned towards her. "You … you want to talk about-"

"She was the love of your life, and she died," the brunette looked at him with concern.

What was he supposed to say to this, he wondered. Yeah, she had been the love of his life. And she was dead. There was nothing more to be said. Suddenly, Angel felt weak, and had to sit down, glad that the stairs were right there.

"And … you … were … there when it happened. I mean, you saw her jump. And you still couldn't help. You weren't there to fight with her. Before, I mean. You couldn't save her. You couldn't die with her," she said, sitting down next to him.

No, I couldn't, he wanted to scream. Because she didn't want me to. Because she's happy wherever she is, because she … He turned his head away, had to close his eyes for a moment. It had been a bad idea to come back. A very bad idea. He'd known this would happen. They would try to help him. But they couldn't. How could they help him, when they couldn't come close to understand.

He forced himself to look back at Cordelia, and saw her bite her lip. "This is gonna be one of those talks where I do all the talking, isn't it?" She shrugged, "Well I'm not going to pry, it's not my style."

She got up, walked away from him, then instantly turned back, "Okay, it's totally my style, but I can tell I'm not getting anywhere right now. But you need to open up … and soon. It can't go on like this, Angel." She looked at him pleadingly,

"We're your friends. We only want to help you. It worries us to see you suffer."

He sighed inwardly. God, he should have stayed away. He couldn't do this. One more word, and he would bolt up the stairs, or worse, start to bawl like a child.

"And now," she took a deep breath, "Tell me what the hell happened with Holtz?"

At that, Angel chuckled, and let his mind wander back in time, glad he could escape for a short while. Usually he didn't like to remember, but at the moment, it felt like heaven.

*

Angel went down the stairs, and seeing Cordelia he already knew what was going to happen. Panic rose inside of him. No, it screamed inside. I can't do this. Not again. I can't deal with it.

"How's Fred?," Cordelia asked, and Angel let out a breath of relief.

"She's all right, considering. We talked over what happened … and I think she'll be coming out of her room any decade now."

The brunette laughed slightly, "And how are you?"

He resisted the urge to turn and bolt back up, close himself in his room, the same way Fred did, to block out those questions that were making him sick. "I'm o-," he started, hoping to cut off any discussion. But of course Cordelia would have none of it.

"And don't say okay. Angel, please, I know you. And ever since you came back from your grief-trip I can tell something's not right. And obviously, it's not. Buffy's dead. I don't mean to diminish that, I miss her, too. I just want to say, I know that James, with all his Romeo and Juliet madness, opened up a lot of wounds for you, but you'll be okay."

"I am okay," he insisted, knowing it was a great lie, hoping she would believe it and let it go.

"Then … what's the problem?," she asked, obviously confused.

"That …," God, he didn't want to do this. "Cordelia, could we please let it go. For now." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm really tired. I can't talk about it. Not … yet."

She wanted to protest, he could see it in her eyes, but then she seemed to sense he wouldn't answer anyway, and nodded, "Okay. I'm letting it go. But I'm still watching you."

Well, they did it anyway. So it wasn't new. "You do that," he replied, forced up a smile, glad when she smiled back.

*****

Xander jumped up, his heart racing in his chest, he stared at his friends, Willow looking calmly, certain of her power, of what she was about to do, Tara's face etched with worry, she stared at her lover. "Whoa!," he looked at Anya, glad to find doubt in her eyes as well. "Let's apply the brakes and check the rear - and side-view mirrors here." When he saw them all stare at him, he took a deep calming breath, and added, "This is deep stuff, Willow. We're talking about raising the dead."

The redhead's chin came up, and her face showed determination, "It's time we stop stalking," she said firmly, her voice daring the others to question her, "Tomorrow night … we're bringing Buffy back."

*****

He'd gone in Wesley's office again, to have some peace. To think, to brood as Cordelia always put it. With all the excitement of the last weeks, there had hardly been time to think, and although he'd welcomed it, he also knew he couldn't escape from the images that were still haunting him.

Angel remembered the last phone-call again he'd had with her, shortly before they'd left for Pylea. He still couldn't remember the words and it was driving him crazy. It had been the last time he'd spoken to her, and he couldn't remember it.

It was as if he'd lost an important part of her, and couldn't get it back. God, there were so few in the short time they'd spent together. Five years. Five lousy years. And not even that much, thanks to his stupid decision to leave her. If she hadn't written the letter to-

He paused, his mind suddenly spinning, remembering something important, something he'd forgotten during all those months. Buffy had left him a letter. She had written words on a paper and left it to him, and he hadn't even bothered to read them so far. God, what kind of lover was he? Was he even worth to be called one? Or was he simply deluding himself?

Had she been the love of his life? Or had James been right after all? Was it love what the vampire had felt for Elizabeth? And was what was between he and Buffy only something shallow, not worth saving? Had he survived because his feelings hadn't been deep enough?

He had to find the letter. He remembered giving it to Wesley before taking off to Tibet, not able to deal with it then. Where was it now? Where-

Frantically he tore open the drawers of his desk, flipped through files, somewhere, anywhere it had to be. It couldn't just disappear. His eyes were wild, his breath shallow, he felt ready to scream, when the letter didn't show up.

Opening the last drawer with too much force, something fell out and to the floor. With a sigh Angel bent down, and froze. It was Buffy's picture. The picture he'd carried with him for so long. The picture that had kept him sane when he'd first come to L.A. She was so young then, so carefree, and so incredibly beautiful, Angel couldn't stop the tears welling up in his eyes.

He leaned back in his chair, just studying the girl that was smiling at him from the picture. He'd stolen it after he'd broken up with her, needing something to take with him, so he could imagine she was still close, could still come right through his door, with that special smile on her lips, and the love he had seen in her eyes. Love for him, the vampire, her sworn enemy, for the man in him. She had always seen the man in him, not the demon, and although it had warmed his undead heart, it had also been one of the reasons he'd left her. Concerned that she just deluded herself, concerned she wouldn't be able to fight vampires properly, loving one at the same time.

He'd broken her heart by leaving, he knew that now. He hadn't thought so, hadn't actually thought a seventeen year old could love so deeply, had hoped she would forget him in time, had hoped she never would. God, he was such an idiot. He had known instantly that she was his fate, the only woman he'd ever loved, why had he just assumed he couldn't be the same for her.

He, who had been raised in the 18th century when girls married at the age of 15, and made decisions for life, how could he possibly assume they weren't able to do that anymore?

He had deprived them of precious hours. Irrevocable hours. Had deprived them of love, and being loved. Had deprived them of happiness, of bliss. Okay, so maybe not bliss exactly, with his soul still in danger, but at least peace. She might have been happy with Riley for a while, but she'd never been peaceful, how could you, if a part of you had been ripped away? He had felt that way, and he knew now she had felt the same.

Slowly he reached out with his free hand, let his finger trail down her perfect features, touching her face, her brows, her nose, and finally her lips. Those warm, soft lips, that could turn up into a smile, or pout so adoringly, he simply had to kiss them. But they wouldn't do that anymore. He would never see her chew her lower lip when she was embarrassed or in distress, he would never feel the urge to take her in his arms, when her lips turned down, and he would also never feel them on his, warming him, showing him how much he meant to her. Loving him.

Loving him. Loving him. Loving him.

"God." The word slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it, and when he looked up again he saw Wesley standing in the doorway, watching him with compassion and concern in his eyes. Angel blinked rapidly, "Wesley," he said hoarsely, putting the picture down, but still touching it, needing to touch it. Maybe if he didn't let go this wouldn't be true. Maybe she would just come back through the door, smiling at him, telling him it had all been a bad joke.

"Angel," the former watcher shifted a little awkwardly on his feet. When his eyes fell on the picture on the desk, he frowned.

The vampire gave him an apologetic look, understanding his expression wrong, "I'm sorry," he said. "I … I know this is your office now, and … I just had to get away for a moment."

He was about to get up, when Wesley raised a hand, "Good God, no, stay," he said quickly, "I didn't come because of that. I mean this is my office, yeah, but what kind of boss would I be if …," he paused, sighed. "I came … that is, Cordelia thought … that … we ..," he stuttered, then shook his head in disgust, took a deep breath, "I actually wanted to ask you how you're doing," the former watcher began, tentatively coming closer, "But I see I can save it."

"I'm okay," Angel said evasively, avoiding to look Wesley in the eye.

"Yes, I can see it," there was a sarcastic note in his friend's voice, but when the vampire looked at him, he saw nothing of it in his features. Sighing, Wesley sat down on the free chair and studied his friend's face. "Angel, we are your friends. You don't need to pretend you're fine. We know you are not."

"Wes," Angel ran a hand through his hair, his other hand still touching the slayer's picture. "I know you mean well. And I know you are concerned, after the whole mess with Darla, but I'm not going to … I'm just ...," he shook his head, not finding the words.

"Still alive?," Wesley asked. He saw the look on Angel's face, and sighed again, "Okay, so not really alive, but still here then."

The vampire considered those words, let them sink in. There was a lot of truth in it, "I ... I don't know," he said finally. "She is ...," his voice cracked and with obvious difficulty, he amended, "was ... the reason for so many things in my life. It was because of her, that I finally saw anything in me than just a monster. And now she's gone, and I ... feel ... I don't exactly know how I feel."

"Angel, I know how much you loved her, and I also know that is nothing anyone can ever take from you. And I know you weren't close these last years, but I'm sure she still cared for you too."

"Cared," the vampire echoed, shaking his head. If his friend only knew how close they really had been those last months, those precious, blissful hours when she'd lain in his arms, when he'd been able to hold her, when he'd heard her heart beat. Yes, she cared for him, but in those hours she'd also told him that she loved him, had always loved him, over and over again.

He shook himself out of his daze, and forced himself to face Wesley again, "Listen," he began, standing up, holding the picture in his hand, "I appreciate this. This friend-thing, being concerned and all. I really do." He shook his head, began to pace the office, "But I'm not, you know," he gestured with his free hand, "going to become sharing-guy all of a sudden.

"I can't do this openly. I'll never go to counseling. It's just my way. And I've gotta do it that way, and more importantly," he stopped, looked at his friend again, "you have to let me. It was the reason I left in the first place. The way I deal with things is brood." He sighed, began to pace again, "So I went brooding. When Buffy died, I thought I'd die too. When I saw her jump, I felt as if she was taking my life with her. But she didn't. I'm still here."

He took a deep breath, stopped again, to look at Wesley, his eyes sad, but honest. He thought about all the things Buffy had told him in the dream, and kept them in his heart, made himself go on, "Because there's still a lot I need to do. Before …," his voice shook slightly, but after a short moment he had himself under control again, "There's still things I have to atone for. And Buffy …," he paused for another moment, his eyes intense, his mind traveling again back to that special night, when she'd spoken to him, convinced him to go on.

"So in a nutshell," he put a hand on Wesley's shoulder, "I'm not going to crack. I'm not going to go over the edge, okay? I just have to deal with things. And now," he smiled slightly, "Let's get back to work."

The former watcher studied the vampire's face for a long moment, then finally he nodded, "Alright. I can accept this. For now. Still, I think talking about it would be healthier. But of course I'm not inside your head."

"No, you aren't," Angel agreed. His eyes grew suddenly very serious, "And thank God for it." Then he turned away and left the office.

*****

Buffy looked up, to see the platform break off the tower and fall down. She grabbed Dawn, they both got up, ran off only an instant before the whole thing came tumbling down.

The sisters went around a corner and collapsed on the ground, both panting heavily, Dawn wincing in pain, looking up at Buffy. "Buffy?," she asked tentatively. "Buffy. You … you …," she reached out, touching her sister's cheek, "You're really here." She threw her arms around the older girl, held her close. "You're alive, and you're home. You're home."

Buffy slowly put her arms around Dawn, but her eyes were blank.

*****

Angel's hands were shaking so badly, he dropped the receiver he'd been holding just before. Tears were gathering in his eyes, his mind was running wild. He'd been in Wesley's office again, when the call came in. Willow's call. He'd listened to her, not able to believe, but wanting to. This was his dream come true, but somehow, deep inside, he couldn't shake off the feeling something wasn't right. Like in trance he got up, went for the lobby.

"Angel," Cordy shouted from the counter, "I've go the information...," she trailed off when he just walked past her desk, without listening to one word.

"Angel," she said, a bit sharper.

"Not now, Cordy," he hissed.

"But the case-"

"I need to leave," he interrupted her, searching for his car keys. "I don't know when I'll be back."

"Hey man, what happens," Gunn asked, strolling into the hotel.

"I need to go. Can you look out for any problems around here?," Angel asked the African American.

"Sure man," Gunn replied.

"You cannot just leave," Cordelia stood up from her chair. "We're in the middle of this case-"

"Screw this case," he shot at her, then suddenly realising how it sounded, he took a deep breath, and more quietly told her, "I need to go to Sunnydale. Buffy is alive." Without waiting for any reaction he turned, the keys firmly in his hands and left.

Cordelia's worried gaze followed his retreating form, "I wonder if all this grief has finally sent him over the edge."

"He sure was obsessed with her over the last months," Gunn commented.

"What?," the brunette's head whirled around, panic clearly visible in her eyes. "Obsessed? No. No, don't say that. Obsessed and Angel don't mix." She paused for a moment, considering her own words, then frowned, "Actually they *do* mix. But then he gets all dark and broody, and he's going to fire us-"

"He's not going to fire us," Wesley cut her off, coming from his office. "First and foremost for the obvious reason that I'm the boss now. But besides that, I can assure you that he isn't in any danger of ... er ... going over the edge. I just talked to Xander ... uh … , and it seems Angel told the truth. Buffy is alive."

Cordelia's eyes grew big like saucers for a moment, then filled with tears, "She's alive ... really alive. Oh," she turned, wrapped her arms around Gunn's neck, "I'm so happy. I'm so happy."

Gunn patted her back a little bit awkwardly, not quite sure what to do with the crying woman in his arms. But before he could decide she pulled back, and wiped her face, "It's great. I mean, for Angel," she missed Wesley's grin knowingly and him exchanging a look with Gunn over her head. "It's great for Angel," she went on, "I mean, I'm really all for it and well, ... at least as long as he doesn't forget about the agency. And about us. His friends. I know Buffy is the love of his life and all, but they aren't together anymore, and his life is here now, and-"

"He'll come back," Wesley's soft voice cut in, and she felt his hand on her arm. "But he has to do this. Buffy and he might not be together anymore, but they still share something very special. He thought she was dead. Now it occurs she isn't. I'd say his reaction was very human." He smiled at his own words, testing them on his tongue, "Yes, very human indeed."

*****

Angel could only stare at her. He was hardly able to believe his own eyes. There was Buffy, standing in the middle of the room, looking at him, trying a smile that somehow didn't want to come out. Her eyes were different, older, although he saw Buffy in them, the woman he loved, the woman he'd thought never to see again - at least not in this life.

Slowly he walked closer, never taking his eyes from hers, "Buffy," he whispered.

"Angel," she whispered back, starting to shake, blinking the tears in her eyes away.

They were both remembering their meeting in the dreamscape, they were both understanding each other.

"Oh, Buffy." He said her name again, then held out his arms.

Without hesitation, she went into them, burying her face in his chest, needing him close, needing his warmth. The warmth that came from love and understanding, from trust. His big hand stroked down her back, then gently over her hair, while his other hand moved down over her hips and stayed there for a moment.

Suddenly she heard him gasp, then pull back slightly, and she could feel his eyes looking down at her.

Slowly, very slowly, she raised her head and gazed back at him, she found his eyes moist, and a world of emotions were in them. She blinked once, twice, then slowly nodded, seeing the question, he couldn't ask, but that was there nevertheless.

Then she took the hand that was still laying on her hip, and moved it upon her stomach, holding it there, "Yes, Angel" she whispered finally, squeezing his hand, "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby."

END

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