Abused (Continued)

Part Thirteen

***

//i want women who are out of my reach//

"Holy fucking Christ," one of the guys hissed as he and a few of the others prepared to tramp through the great room to leave by the front door early the next morning. Angel was lying on the sofa bed, obviously nude under the blanket that was left covering him, half of which was pooled on the floor next to the bed. What was covering most of his body was a very naked and sensuously beautiful Buffy Summers. She was lying on top of him, apparently aware of his wounds in her sleep and not touching him. Her tiny fingers were curled around part of the bicep of his injured arm and her long blonde hair was flowing over her back, streaming in silky ribbons to tickle Angel's flesh.

Angel's uninjured arm was holding her securely to him, his hand spanning almost all of her delectable naked back. The blanket was covering the firm curve of her behind but they could see her full breasts pressed against his chest, giving them a side view of the promised beauty they would see should she decide to sit up.

"She's...damn, she's even hotter than I thought she was," one whispered, glancing at his two fellow voyeurs. All eyes turned back toward the couple as she moaned in her sleep, languidly moving her body over Angel's.

"Mmmm..." she said, kissing his chest as she felt his arousal growing against her, "Someone's awake."

"Busted," he said, his voice a rough and sexy mumble as the corners of his mouth twitched up and he opened his eyes. "I didn't want to wake you up. I couldn't help myself."

He smoothed his hands over her naked back and threaded his fingers through her hair as she scooted up his body to kiss him. She rubbed against him as they kissed, growing more aroused with every early morning second. "I thought you were wearing my shirt to bed, baby," he said against her lips.

The guys looked at each other and then back at the couple grinning widely. They were all thrilled she hadn't worn his shirt to bed. They watched as one of her arms came up to see that the giant shirt was still attached to half of one arm.

"Still wearing it," she said, dropping her arm and moving to nibble on his jaw before suckling on his neck. He felt her legs slip around to straddle him, opening her moist heat and pressing down against him. "How are you feeling? Do you need more medicine?"

"I need you to stop doing that before I take you right here while the morning troops stomp through," he said, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it around her body. "We need to go upstairs."

"Why?" she asked, ignoring him and kissing down his chest. She stopped to suck a tempting nipple into her mouth, clamping her warm lips around it and lashing it with her tongue.

"You...uh...have class," he ground out, jerking his hips against her involuntarily.

Their audience meant to back away and exit the mansion through the back door, but they couldn't tear their eyes away from her. The passion coming from her tiny body was threading through the air towards them, stepping into their space and rooting them to the spot.

"Not going," she said against his skin, moving to the other nipple and giving it the same special treatment. Her mouth spread into a bright smile as she stopped and looked up at him, inching further down his body. "I'm going to take care of you today..." she purred, "in more ways than one."

Seeing where she was going as she moved down his body, peppering kisses on his skin, he grabbed her arms and winced as he pulled her back up to his mouth. His shoulder still ached and today he found he was more stiff than before.

"Not here," he said, causing the breath to come out of their onlookers. One guy actually groaned out loud in disappointment, causing them both to turn and find them standing there.

"What are you doing in here?" Angel roared, wrapping the blanket more tightly around Buffy and preparing to move her over so that he could go after them, forgetting his wounds and his own nakedness entirely. Before he could even sit up, they turned and ran full speed from the room.

***

//turn away from the pain that you don't want//

"Lily?" Gunn asked as she opened the door. He and Spike both fought over who went to talk to her and who to take with them on the trip. Finally, it was decided that Gunn and Willow would go, since a female would definitely be needed for the confrontation. Spike offered Dru, but in the end, Willow seemed a better conversationalist.

"Y-yes," the pretty blonde answered, "I used to be. I go by ‘Anne' now. Can I help you?"

"We were wondering if we could talk to you about something," Willow said quietly, "if you have a minute or two."

"What about?" Anne asked, keeping the door wedged firmly in her hand, preparing to slam it closed at any moment.

"Riley Finn," Gunn answered after a moment and Anne's face contorted into a mask of pain and shock before attempting to slam the door closed. Willow stepped forward and said loudly, "He's hurting other people, Anne! He hurt my best friend and we need your help! Please just listen to what we have to say."

"There's nothing you can say," Anne shouted back through the closed door, "Go away! I'm done with that part of my life."

"Anne!" Willow shouted more forcefully, pressing her face against her door, "He needs to pay for what he's done! Are you just going to let him stay free to hurt other people?"

"Go AWAY!" Anne said through her door, "Please. I'm sorry your friend was hurt but I don't want to have anything to do with this."

"If you change your mind," Willow said, "We both live at Liam Angelus' mansion on Crawford street."

Gunn lead Willow back to his truck even though she wanted to wait there for several more minutes just in case Anne/Lily changed her mind. She sadly climbed in and ran her fingers over the tear in his dashboard sadly.

"I thought she would help," Willow said sadly, "Think she'll change her mind, Gunn?"

"Hope so," Gunn said, "But it sounds like she's moved on."

"Maybe if Buffy talked to her..." Willow offered and then shook her head, "Guess Buffy doesn't really need people slamming doors in her face these days."

"I'm sure as hell don't need it," Gunn added, starting his engine and pulling from the curb, "We can't make her testify if she doesn't want to, Willow."

"Guess not," she mumbled and then widened her eyes at Gunn, "Unless she's subpoenaed!"

***

//you're possessed with a power bigger than the pain//

Lindsey McDonald let out a low whistle after Buffy left them alone in Angel's room later on that day. She ran downstairs to make drinks for them, but really left because she be away from the situation. She knew Lindsey was Angel's lawyer and she knew he was there to talk about how to press charges against Riley. If there was anything she could do to avoid talking about the situation, she was willing to do it. Hopefully, the coffee took an extra long time to brew today.

"Damn, is that who you've been sleeping with lately, Angel?" Lindsey said, smiling in approval, "Rumor has it, she's your only piece of ass now."

"I'm going to marry her," Angel said, making sure the warning came through in his tone. Even though he looked rumpled in his robe and his eyes were not as sharp and focused as they usually were due to his medication, Lindsey couldn't doubt that he was serious about what he said. He knew Angel was shot from the phone call he received earlier that morning and thought the meeting was about that, which is why his jaw dropped when Angel said he was going to marry her and then added, "And she's the reason you're here."

"Nuh-uh. No way," Lindsey said, shaking his head, "You want me to write up a prenup? That's why I'm here?"

"No," Angel said, "I haven't even asked her yet and when I do, there won't be a prenuptial agreement. She was raped, Linds. I want you to nail the bastard that did it. But before she comes up here, I want to give you this."

Lindsey stared at the paper in his hand in disbelief, "Angel, you can't make these changes to your will! You barely know this girl. She could be using you for your money! And Spike? You can't write Spike into your will!"

"I can do whatever I want," Angel said, "I want those changes made as soon as possible."

"But you aren't going to tell her that you're leaving most of your fortune to her, are you? That's why you wanted to do this when she wasn't in the room?" Lindsey asked, his hands shaking as he stared at the words, and more importantly, the huge numbers before him.

"I don't want her to know I'm thinking about my will because I almost died, Lindsey. She doesn't want to think about my death," Angel said, regarding his old friend seriously. "I love her, Linds. She's the *one* and I want her to have almost everything if something happens to me."

"What about Spike? You can't stand your brother," Lindsey said, "You told me you would never write him back into your will a couple of years ago."

"Things change," Angel said, shrugging and then wincing in pain for attempting the motion, "No matter what happens from here on out, Spike has earned part of the Angelus fortune. Like it or not, he's family. He deserved to be included when my father died and he deserves it now."

"Maybe you should wait until your medication wears off," Lindsey said slowly, "I don't think you're thinking straight. I see you've left Giles in, but leaving Spike a hefty chunk and then giving everything else to that girl? Jesus, Angel! She's beautiful, I'll grant you that, but this is *millions* of dollars. You can't give her all that."

"Lindsey," Angel said, "I love her. She deserves more than I could ever give her. Everything I have is hers as it should be. Now put the paper in your briefcase and make the changes. I'll sign the will when you're finished with it later this week. I want this legal as soon as possible."

"Angel," Lindsey said, preparing to argue again when the door opened. Angel smiled at Buffy as she came in juggling a tray filled with cups of coffee and a few pastries.

"Angel, your coffee pot is evil," she said, handing Lindsey a steaming cup. He waved off the pastry and eyed her closely, looking for signs of the greedy whore he knew she had to be.

"What happened, love?" Angel asked, smiling at her as she handed him his cup.

"I wasn't ready for it to start going and when I poured the water in, it started spewing all over the counter! The guys were laughing at me!" She answered, shaking her blonde head, "Like I knew there was some special reservoir thingy in it!"

"She's not much of a cook," Angel said, winking at her and shooting a deliriously happy smile at Lindsey.

"Good thing you can afford to hire one then," Lindsey leaked snidely despite his effort not to. He thought the term "delirious" fit his old friend well. He looked at Buffy closely, watching her face and her movements, but as much as he wanted to hate her, he couldn't seem to find a thing about her to be suspicious.

She rolled her eyes at Lindsey's comment, not noticing that Angel bristled from it and she laughed, "It'll do him good to eat some burnt toast or something from time to time. Builds character. Besides, I've eaten a lot. Cooking can't be *that* hard. I just need a little more practice."

Angel chuckled at her comment and earned himself a swat on his good arm before she curled up beside him on the couch, snuggling in while she held her steaming cup of coffee to her lips. She seemed to be incredibly nervous, her hands shaking lightly as she prepared for Lindsey to talk to her about the rape.

"Guess...um...Angel told you why he asked you to come," Buffy finally managed to croak out and snuggled more tightly in at Angel's side. He wrapped his arm around her and scooted her closer to him. Lindsey was shocked when Angel turned, kissed her temple tenderly and whispered in her ear. It wasn't that he was surprised that Angel was being so nice, it was just that he was so...gentle and attentive toward her. It was strange. He was used to Angel being more interested in sex than feelings and certainly could never imagine him leaving a cent to some girl!

When Angel was done whispering in her ear, she nodded with tears in her eyes. As she started to tell her story, she clung to Angel tightly, setting down her cup so she could grip his hand with both of hers. The more time Lindsey spent with the couple, the more it occurred to him that Angel hadn't been kidding about her. They really did love each other.

After about a half hour into the discussion, Buffy saw how much pain Angel was in, wincing at her side every few seconds. A glance at the clock revealed that once again the drugs had worn off but there was still a little over an hour before his next dose. She stopped, surprisingly in mid-sentence, and said, "I'm sorry, Lindsey. Angel's not feeling well. Can we finish this tomorrow? I can come to your office if you want."

"Uh, sure," Lindsey said, noting that Angel didn't argue, but just sat there with his jaw clenched and his eyes closed in pain. "Angel? Are you okay?"

"What?" Angel said, focusing on his friend once more, "Uh, yeah. I think Buffy's right. Can we pick this up tomorrow?"

"Sure," Lindsey said, "I'm going to start researching Riley. Give me a call tomorrow and we'll get this in motion."

***

//all i want is to lose myself in your room
all you want is a slow fuck in the afternoon//

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, after she'd shown Lindsey to the door and came back to help him to bed.

"What for?" she asked, "I wasn't enjoying that anyway. I'm glad to have a break."

"You said you wanted to get it all out so it was over with," He said, grunting as he laid back on the bed, "And I messed it up."

"Oh, I guess you expect me to angry with you because your *bullet wounds* got in the way of me *talking* to someone?" she asked incredulously.

"Sounded better in my head," he said, staring off at the far wall. As he tried to channel his pain in another direction, he breathed deeply, but couldn't seem to get a grasp on his injuries. He really wished he had paid more attention in Tai Chi. He heard a rustling across the room and saw that Buffy was flipping through his CDs. Finally, she found something she liked and flipped it on, filling the room with a sensual jazz beat. He watched her curiously as she shut the bedroom door and turned to face him, swaying her narrow hips to the music.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as she raised her arms above her head, concentrating on the rhythm.

"You need something to focus on," she said, smiling carnally at him and adding an extra rotation to her hips, "And I think I'm getting pretty good at distracting you."

He meant to say something but she reached behind her head and removed the clip holding her hair in place. He watched with growing interest as her hair cascaded down her back, when she shook it free. Keeping in time with the music, she wondered if he found this attractive at all. She was only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. In hindsight, she should have changed clothes first, but at the spur of the moment, she hoped it would work. Checking his face when she turned around, he seemed to be enjoying it. It never even occurred to her that she needed the distraction just as much as he did. Anything was better than thinking about what she had just told Lindsey. It seemed like another violation that she should have to share those details with anyone else.

Angel swallowed and was beginning to forget about his pain as she tossed her little t-shirt aside, leaving her only in a bra and those jeans that rested low on her tiny hips. As she moved, twisting and turning to the music, he fought the urge to get out of bed and touch her. She slipped off her jeans seductively, managing to remove them with a smooth, slow motion that left his mouth dry. Clad only in her peach silk bra and matching panties, she moved her hands over her own skin, closing her eyes as she danced before him.

"Come here," he finally whispered, "I want to touch you."

Teasing him a bit more, she took a few minutes to answer his request, making each step closer to him a part of her dance routine and not just an obvious step toward him. In the five steps it took to reach him, she discarded the rest of her clothing and swept the blankets away that she had only covered him with ten minutes before. Playfully, she reached out and swiped at the sash of the robe he still wore, revealing his naked body underneath. "I see I got your attention," she said huskily, before slowly swinging her leg over his hips and leaning to catch his lower lip between her teeth. Hovering over him on her hands and knees, she kissed him, dueling her tongue with his as the rest of her body still swayed to the beat.

"You never lost my attention," he answered, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down until her skin was against his. He was sure that holding her actually added to the allotted movement he was supposed to have with his injuries. Course, he couldn't feel them most of the time because her warm, lithe body was *really* good at distracting him from everything else.

"Now I can finish what I started this morning before you got mad," she announced happily and started her route from the beginning, nibbling on his jawline and making her way to his neck and shoulder.

"They *saw* you," he grumbled, "Your beautiful naked body in the morning sun is something only I should see...ever!"

"Shut up, Angel," she said, smiling against his skin, "They were just being boys and they couldn't even see anything."

"They're going to be dead boys," he fumed, remembering more clearly his fury from the morning, "And I can't believe you aren't more upset about this! It doesn't bother you that we were almost making love and they were watching?"

"Again with the mad about things that can't be helped right now," she whispered, expelling a puff of warm air over his nipple, still moist from where her mouth had been, "I'll give them the cold shoulder later. Right now, I want to focus on other things."

Punctuating her words, she made her way down his body. She loved the feel of his muscles beneath her lips and the way he couldn't keep his hands off of her. He was always caressing her skin and running his fingers through her hair.

"Now," she said, finally reaching his cock, wrapping her small hand around him and snaking her tongue out to taste him, "Do you want to talk about this morning or should we focus on the present?"

"Alright," he breathed, pulling her back up to his mouth. As much as he wanted to see her full, pink lips circling his cock, he needed even more to be inside her, to have her body pressing fully against his. "I'm sorry I was so mad this morning, okay? I can't take the thought of them seeing you. You're mine to see! Not anyone else's."

"Sorry, cave man," she said, growling at him before she kissed him playfully, loving the way he arched against her hand as she caressed him, "You can club them later."

"Are we done talking?" she asked, positioning him at her entrance and not waiting for her answer as she sank down on his throbbing cock.

"Oh yeah," he mumbled, attacking her mouth as he thrust up against her. "I think you're turning my brain into mush, my love."

"Good," she whispered, biting playfully at his neck, before sitting back and propping her hands on his chest, bucking her hips harder against him. "You're putty in my hands," she moaned as he slid his hands up from her belly over her ribs to her breasts. He cupped them in his hands, twisting her nipples almost the point of pain until she was pounding him into her harder and harder. He gritted his teeth, silently pleading for her climax as he felt himself nearing the edge. He moved his hands back to her hips as he plunged back against her harder and harder, lost in her slick heat.

"Come for me, baby," he groaned, tipping her hips that her clit was hit with every thrust. When she realized her trademark shuddering moan, he let go, feeling her inner muscles flutter around him in her climax. She collapsed against his chest, panting against his chest.

"This distraction stuff is getting to be more and more fun," Buffy said breathily as she kissed him passionately once more.

"Fun? Hell, this has to be the best injury I've ever had," he said, smiling at her and cupping her face, "But you shouldn't feel like you have to have sex with me every four to six hours, love."

"I can think of worse ways to spend my time, Angel," she said wryly.

"If you insist," he said and watched as she hopped up from bed and padded nude to the bathroom to get his medicine. He watched her retreat appreciatively and felt his arousal growing once more as she made her way back. She raised an eyebrow at him when she saw he was already hard again and he grinned sheepishly at her. "It's your fault," he said, placing blame where blame was due.

"Guess I'll just *have* to make it better then won't I?" she whispered, and huffed in mock drama, "You are such a chore."

***

Part Fourteen

***

//all i need and crave
loud life with the power to fade
i am living because i keep it all in, keep it all inside
yeah, i keep it all in, keep it all inside//

The following day Buffy and Angel did not call Lindsey for an appointment. Angel was still in an enormous amount of pain and Buffy could think of three million things she would rather do than talk about her rape and what happened after that. So instead of facing the reality that she had barely allowed to fringe her thoughts, she cared for Angel, distracted him from his pain and made sure he had everything he needed.

When he slept, which was often because of his medication, she hung out with Willow and Xander between their classes, or Spike, Dru, Gunn and some of the other guys. Of course, there were three in which she snubbed just to teach them a lesson for their exercise in voyeurism.

In the late afternoon, when Willow came bounding back from her classes, Buffy lounged on the guest room bed, while her friend excitedly talked about the days events. Buffy was always astonished at how Willow could turn a boring lecture into a momentous occasion and how a few happy words from her made all the difference in an otherwise dull day.

"How are things with you?" Willow asked when she had finished spouting about how Dr. Livingston had complimented her grasp of a difficult theory.

"Alright," Buffy answered noncommitally, "Angel's still in a lot of pain and the medication wears off too soon for him, but besides that everything is okay."

"Yes, but how are *you*?" Willow asked, almost whispering her question. Caving, Buffy explained Lindsey's visit and how she had intentionally not made an appointment with him.

"Don't you want to get this part of your life over with?" Willow asked, nudging her friend toward dealing with things she knew she hadn't yet let come to the surface.

"I don't want to share my most intimate details with him," Buffy answered, "He looks at me like I'm stealing his best friend or something."

"You can't avoid this, Buff," Willow said, scooting closer to her, "Just get it over with and then things'll be better. I'm sure of it."

***

//i turn, i reach for you
wanna touch our life before it fades//

Angel was fully dressed for the first time since he was shot and sitting in his library later that afternoon. He was really surprised when Lindsey called that morning and insisted that he speak to Angel and Angel alone. Angel tried to argue that Buffy should be present, but Lindsey adamantly refused to have Buffy involved until he spoke to him first.

Angel managed to clean up and get dressed after reluctantly explaining to Buffy that Lindsey wanted to meet him alone. He was baffled when she happily agreed to stand aside and let him handle it. Course, he saw how shaken she had been after their last meeting, even if she tried to blow it off afterwards.

He sighed, leaned his head tiredly against the back of his chair and looked around the room. He hadn't spent very much time in here but he always thought it would someday mean something to him. He could almost imagine working in here after he'd gotten out of college and managed to find some sort of career. If he closed his eyes, he could picture himself hunkered over the mammoth desk across the room, working on something when Buffy - his wife in his vision - would tiptoe in and ask him if he was coming to bed.

He could see her in her little robe, her eyes squinting in the dim light and her hair rumpled around her shoulders. One tiny hand would extend itself toward him, beckoning him to take it and go with her to the bedroom and he would. Smiling, he imagined curling around her tiny body and sleeping every night for hundreds of nights, thousands. A male clearing his throat made him open his eyes and look up at Lindsey, standing there in his expensive suit, holding his brief case lightly in his hand.

"Hey," Angel said, shaking off his imagined wife and her warm body as his friend sat down in the arm chair across from his.

"I need to talk to you about a couple of things," Lindsey said, looking grim and serious as he opened his briefcase and took out the updated will, "First of all, here's the new will."

Angel leaned over painfully and took the will, reading it closely for his changes. He knew Lindsey didn't approve of the money he was leaving to Buffy or the fact that all of his nonliquidated holdings went to her, as well as his car and the mansion. The only piece of property that wasn't being left to her was the house in London, which he was leaving to Spike. Seeing the Lindsey made all the changes, even if some of them were done with irritation, he signed the will and handed it back.

"What else did you want to talk about?" Angel asked, anxious to get to the heart of the matter, "Since you don't want Buffy here for this, I'm really curious about what you want to say, Linds."

***

//i wish i could go back
yes, back in time//

Buffy's hands shook as she stood in the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, holding her packet of birth control pills. As usual, she took it when she got out of the shower every day and today was no different. The only problem was she should be on her third day of her period and she wasn't. She squeezed her eyes closed and then looked down again, refocusing on the pills as if she expected somehow they had misled her the first time.

When the first day passed and her period didn't arrive, which had been like clockwork for as long as she could remember, she brushed it off as stress. The second day she was getting nervous but today she was certain she was pregnant. There was no other earthly reason why she wasn't menstruating.

The clatter of the case falling to the floor barely registered in her ears as she stumbled out of the bathroom. Every minute of suppression for her abuse and rape that she had been forcing back from her thoughts and her daily life flung to the surface. Tripping over her own feet, she made her way to the bedroom and grabbed a sweatshirt from the closet, pulling it over her head without realizing that it was both inside out and backwards. Horror covered her face as she slipped on panties and jeans, then forced her feet into tennis shoes without bothering with socks. What the hell did socks matter when she was pregnant with that monster's child?

A sob erupted as she found her purse and grabbed a small overnight bag. She couldn't stay here, that was for sure. She couldn't tell Angel that she was not only damaged but so used that she was filled with the horrid offspring of Riley Finn. How would she explain this to him? How could he ever want her when she was ruined now?

Every fleeting thought of staying with him, of someday being his wife flew away the moment her pill pack hit the bathroom floor. She knew as certainly as she knew she was pregnant that she couldn't have Angel now. She was a fool to think she could move on and have a decent life to begin with, that she could be with someone who loved her like Angel had.

*Had.* She was already in past tense and she hadn't even left his room. Remedying that, she turned from the bedroom. She didn't place a single article of clothing in her bag, instead she went to the bathroom. Opening the medicine cabinet, she tossed in every bottle of medication in there. When she was done the only things left were eye drops and Angel's pain medication.

It took several seconds to zip up the bag before she ran from the room. She didn't hear it if anyone greeted her or asked her what was wrong as she quickly made her way down the stairs and out of the only place that had given her sanctuary. All she wanted was to be far away when Angel came out from his meeting with Lindsey. Hopefully, by the time anyone found her, it would be too late.

***

//sometimes i get so mad, i just want to break the world//

"The other day," Lindsey started taking a deep breath, "I gave you the impression that you would need me for Riley's conviction."

"And we don't need you?" Angel asked, his face plainly showing his confusion.

"No," Lindsey admitted, sitting on the edge of his chair like he was prepared to dart from the room if he had to, "I'm not a criminal lawyer and even if I was, this case will be handled by the state. The prosecution is already motion, actually. With Buffy's testimony, along with yours, her mother's and your friends', they will have no problem sending him away for a good long time. Finn will never even see this go to trial, Angel. He's guilty and everyone knows it. All that's left is the bargaining, which is in process now while he's cooling his heals at the hospital."

"Why did you have Buffy tell you about the rape then?" Angel raged, not feeling the pain of his injuries as he lurched forward in his chair, "Why the fuck would you put her through that when you knew godamn well that you wouldn't have shit to do with this?"

"Because," Lindsey explained, struggling not to cower under Angel's furious glare, "I wanted to know if you were being used. I didn't know anything about the rape at the time and I wanted to see if she was trying to get your money, Angel. When you gave me the will, I nearly had a heart attack."

"It's not your decision, Lindsey!" he shouted back, "If I want to give her every dime of my money right fucking now and live in a cardboard box, it's not your business! You are my lawyer, not my watch dog!"

"I'm your friend too," Lindsey countered, "You meet this girl and within days she's living with you and so are two of her friends? You're shot and going after her ex-boyfriend like it's some vendetta! You have to admit that this is strange behavior for a guy who wouldn't even let a female move into the mansion a couple of months before! Mr. Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em all of a sudden is being lead around by the dick by this girl? Something is wrong with this picture, Angel! Even you have to admit it!"

"I love her!" Angel said, "I don't expect you to understand it or even agree with it, but as my friend and my lawyer, you need to *not* torture her by making her bare her soul to you! What kind of sadistic fuck are you anyway, Lindsey?"

"I'm sorry, Angel," Lindsey said, "I just didn't trust her before. After speaking with the prosecuting attorney, I know what she went through and-"

"You have no CLUE what she went through!" Angel roared, "How dare you think you could even come close to knowing what she's been through and then you add to it! Well, thanks for being a friend! Next time you want to stab me in the back-"

"I wasn't going against you," Lindsey argued, "I was trying to help. Really."

"DON'T!" Angel shouted, pulling himself up to his feet as quickly as he could, which compared to his old self was very slow, "I don't need anyone else hurting her and if you want to keep being my friend you'll remember that in the future. Whatever you think is important to me, I promise you that as of now it is all below Buffy. Got it? I don't care about the money or what my brother's doing or even school. I care about her and she is my top priority, understand?"

"Yeah," Lindsey said, slumping in his chair, "I understand."

"Good," Angel said, turning toward the door, "Now make sure the will is-"

"Angel!" Gunn said, nearly breaking down the library door as he rushed in, his feet thumping loudly on the hardwood floor.

"Calm down," Angel said, shooting an angry glare at Lindsey before looking back at Gunn, "I was just having a disagreement with Lindsey."

"No, man," Gunn said, shaking his head, "Buffy ran out of here crying and she had a bag with her like she wasn't planning on coming back tonight. I called Spike and he's out trying to find her to see if something happened, but she looked really fucked up. Something's wrong."

"When did she leave?" Angel demanded, thrilled he had gotten dressed that morning. He limped toward the door and passed Gunn without waiting for his answer. Struggling up the stairs and cursing how long it was taking, he went to his room to get a pair of shoes and his keys. When he finally made it in, he looked around for signs of struggle or anything clue that could make him understand why she had left. Seeing nothing in plain view, he slipped on shoes, grabbed his keys and went back out as quickly as he could.

***

//yes, i will accept, i will accept my pain
i don't deserve to die like this, no one deserves to die like this//

Buffy had no idea where she was going to go. She couldn't go home. It wasn't like her mother would understand or sit idly by while she took her own life. She couldn't go to any of her friends, especially since they all lived at the mansion now. The only place left she could think of was Giles' office, which she still had a key to even though she hadn't been to work in quite some time. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was after three.

She headed in that direction, racking her brain on what his schedule was and what day it was. She remembered her pill pack and couldn't stop the next round of sobs. She knew exactly what day it was. Giles had his final class at two and almost always headed home early to do...whatever it was he did. She tried to make herself as invisible as possible as she walked hurriedly up the stairs, down the hall and around the corner to his little office.

Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes thankfully that she was alone. She crossed the room and opened Giles' bottom desk drawer where she knew she would find a high quality bottle of brandy. She tore a blank sheet of paper from what she affectionately called his "junk jet" printer and grabbed a pen from his top drawer. Any other day, she would have giggled to think that she should blow the dust off the paper first, since she was fairly certain he didn't even know how to turn the "blasted machine" on.

Her handwriting looked scrawled and wobbly as she made out a quick note. It wasn't more than a few sentences but it said what it needed to: Apologizing to Giles for drinking his brandy and thanking him for the job he had given her and sending her love to Willow, Xander and her mother.

She stared at the page for a long time and finally, she wrote, "And finally, my Angel, I hope you won't think that my death means that I don't love you. When I met you, I realized you were the only thing I've ever wanted and now I know you are the one thing that I can never have. Please don't be angry with me for not being as strong as you wanted me to be. I love you. -Buffy"

The last word was the clearest, in all capital letters. She stared at the page and then set it down, knowing she couldn't read over it again. No one would understand this when she barely could. The idea of the life she had always dreamed of taken in this one afternoon with a bottle of brandy washing down the contents of Angel's medicine cabinet was more than she was willing to deal with.

She shakily opened the first bottle of aspirin and dumped its contents on the desk. Scooping up a couple at a time, she began taking them, washing them down with the rich alcohol she had never grown to like and never would. She curled up in Giles' big squeaky desk chair and thought about the days past as she downed the pills a couple at a time.

She had been so focused on forgetting Riley, keeping her mind on caring for Angel, that she hadn't even started to deal with what had happened. Her body seemed like a vehicle for taking her straight to hell. She tried to make Angel happy and wanted nothing more but to burrow inside him and disappear. In fact, that's what she had tried to do. His shadow was so strong and tall she was sure she could cower in it until the rest of the world fell away. If he loved her, she could forget the things that hurt her.

She knew when Willow asked her how *she* was that her facade was beginning to fade. She had been avoiding Willow in large doses. She thought tiny visits with Will would work to make sure their friendship, at least to the casual observer, was intact. The truth was that her chipper redheaded friend had been trying to break in for days, but Buffy wouldn't let her. Xander only got a moment or two of her time lately and Buffy didn't even know what color Oz's hair was these days. All she saw was Angel and that was all she wanted to see because in his eyes, she was perfect. In his eyes, even her imperfections were perfect and he was so busy loving and protecting her, dosed heavily on those drugs, that he forgot to make her live for herself and that suited her.

She hadn't stopped to think about what would happen when Angel wasn't sleeping most of the days, when the medication was done and she couldn't fill his few waking hours with flesh and impassioned kisses. If she had, she would have been terrified. Sooner or later, Angel would have wondered when she was dealing and the problem was that Buffy Summers never planned to *deal* at all. She just wanted to be immersed in his arms.

She laughed bitterly as she finished off the aspirin and opened a box of decongestants, carefully pushing all the little pills through their foil encasing. Now all she was immersed in was drugs and alcohol. Swallowing the first couple pills, she forced down another gulp of brandy wondering why people called this the easy way out. There didn't seem to be anything easy about it at all.

***

//don't die
don't give in
no way, no way
please don't leave me//

Angel had looked in every place he could think of to find Buffy. He had Willow, Oz, Xander, Spike, Gunn and several of the guys all on the lookout for her too and even though his cell phone kept ringing, the reports were all coming up Buffyless. Finally, he parked his car in the faculty lot and hobbled up to Giles' office. The dark cell of a working space was the last place he could think of to find her.

The thought had crossed his mind that since they met, they had been mostly in the mansion. There hadn't been a lot of time to talk about favorite places or to go anywhere. Now he wanted to bang his head against the wall for not finding out where she went when she wanted to be alone. That little tidbit would have been incredibly useful right about now.

When he opened the door, he barely had time to look around the office before he hobbled inside. Giles' desk chair was turned over on top of her and her overnight bag was sitting on top of the desk, soaked in the overturned bottle of brandy, which was leaking through the blotter covered in pills and empty bottles and packages.

"Oh my God," he croaked, as he flung the chair off of her and scooped her into his arms. Tears were already filling his eyes before he made it to the door, leaving it open behind him. He cursed his wounds as he tried to move faster to get to his car. He thought about calling an ambulance, but he knew he could get her there before they could reach him.

"Don't die, Buffy," he begged as he set her in the passenger seat and got in, buckling neither of them in as he started the engine and took off at three times the speed limit.

"Please, baby, just hold on," he said, keeping one hand on her to keep her in the seat as he swerved around quiet Sunnydale traffic and kept going when a police car turned on its siren and began following him. The cop trailed him all the way to the hospital and he ignored him, carrying Buffy inside the emergency room doors, screaming for help.

Angel had to be held back by two hospital guards as the emergency crew took Buffy in to have her stomach pumped and he sagged in their hold when she disappeared through the swinging double doors. He slumped to his knees and stared at the doors, still moving from where she had disappeared and choked as he felt his stomach twisting in revolt.

Some time later, he vaguely heard Willow crying out his name. He looked up at her and watched her mouth move as she frantically spoke to him. He wasn't even sure how she had known to come there.

"Angel? Angel?" her voice echoed until he found his voice.

"She's..." he said, tapering off as he pointed in the direction of the doors and then looked back his love's best friend, "She's not going to die, is she? Please tell me that she won't die, Willow."

"She won't," Willow promised, sounding unsure through her sobs, "She...she can't, Angel. She can't."

***

Part Fifteen

***

//this chain you made for me
yeah, i will pull you down//

Angel stood in the center Giles' office for a few long minutes, struggling to breathe. The weariness he felt hadn't even really begun to hit the surface; the sorrow and tension had his full attention. He inched closer to the desk where Buffy had left the bag and all the remnants of the drugs and alcohol she had consumed. There, lying on the desk, half soaked in Giles' spilled Brandy was a note that he hadn't known she had left.

He picked up the overturned chair and sat in it, making him feel closer to her as he peered down at the page, afraid to touch it as he read. The first words brought tears to his eyes. The idea that she thought that suicide was the only other way to deal with her problems was unfathomable. He read her words to Giles, her friends and her mother while taking deep breaths, noting that her absentee father had no place on the list, but when he got to the words, "And finally, my Angel" he squeezed his eyes shut.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to read it. What if she said she hadn't loved him, that it was his fault? He regretted every moment that he hadn't known she was still aching inside, every drop of pain medication that kept him sleeping while, for all he knew, she was weeping at his side, every minute he had let pass that he didn't let her know that she was his entire world and mostly he regretted every word he hadn't said to make sure she knew that he would love her no matter what happened.

As he kept his eyes closed, the thought occurred to him that maybe he wasn't enough. Maybe his love didn't matter at all in her shattered world. What if nothing he did would have stopped this from happening? Groaning inside himself, Liam Angelus realized that he had never felt so unworthy, so helpless in his entire life. No amount of hard work and not a cent of his amassed wealth could have stopped this.

He pried his eyes open after several minutes and forced himself to look at the page. Slowly, swallowing each word like the pills she had consumed, he read, "And finally, my Angel, I hope you won't think that my death means that I don't love you. When I met you, I realized you were the only thing I've ever wanted and now I know you are the one thing that I can never have. Please don't be angry with me for not being as strong as you wanted me to be. I love you. -Buffy"

Angel read his part of the note over and over again as he sat there, allowing the tears to course freely down his cheeks. He let each word sink in, holding his head in his hands and sobbing. Had he failed her so much? Had she thought that she needed to be so strong for him that she couldn't deal with what she felt? And why couldn't she have him? Why?

"Angel?"

"Giles," Angel said, raising his head slowly and fixing his eyes on his old friend and guardian.

"What happened in here? Are you alright?" Giles asked, stepping into the office and staring at the desk in horror, "Did you take all this?"

Giles had already picked up the phone to call the ambulance, when Angel shook his head and motioned for him to hang up. "It's not me, Giles," Angel said, "I mean, it wasn't me."

"Dear Lord," Giles said, breathing a sigh of relief and then widening his eyes in horror, "Then what happened?"

***

//you can close your eyes
you can fall and die//

The past twenty-four hours had been so much worse than Buffy ever could have imagined. After making her to swallow a sort of liquid that smelled like rotten eggs, they forced a tube through her nose and down her throat to pump her stomach. The experience was so horrible, for a second she wished she had died until the doctor told her that he thought she might.

She didn't realize until later that his tactic was to make her want to live, but the comment sent her into a panic. More importantly, it worked. She wanted to live more than anything now and she didn't even know why. She immediately asked to see Angel and she missed the glint in his eyes when he told her about the friends crying in each other's arms. The worst thing he said to her while he treated her, carefully prodding her with his well planned verbal attack, was when she asked about the baby.

"You aren't pregnant, Miss Summers," the doctor answered, "Did you think you were?"

Breaking into a round of sobs, she begged to see Angel. He calmly told her that there was a large, dark haired young man out in the waiting room and had been crying in the arms of a lovely redheaded girl when he walked past them. Then, without missing a beat, he told her that he was moving her to a different facility in Los Angeles.

"Can I see them before I go?" she pleaded, wondering how she had ever gotten herself into this. All she wanted was to escape and strangely, that was still what she wanted. She didn't want to go to some sterile sounding facility two hours away, she wanted to go back to Angel's mansion and hide under his shadow again. The doctor informed her that she would not be seeing anyone before she was taken, not her mother, her boyfriend or her friends.

***

//you were my everything
you were so different from all those other girls//

Angel helped Giles clean up his office while he told him the story, unable to just sit there and shrink under his concerned stare. They had to throw the desk blotter away, as well as his calendar and the top of the surface looked as if it might be permanently stained in some places by the renegade liquor.

After a very long hour discussion, Angel made his way back to the mansion. Once he got there, he trudged up to his room, but there was no place he could look that didn't ring clearly of his lover. He finally decided on a shower, but when he came back in to dress, his closet was waiting there, overstuffed with her clothes, mingling so perfectly with his own. He took him a full ten minutes to work up the nerve he needed to pull out something to wear.

After he dressed, he headed downstairs and sat on the couch, staring blankly at the empty fireplace and ignoring anyone who dared to speak to him. He was at a loss. Classes were certainly out of the question. He had stayed at the hospital as long as possible, but when they told him they had moved Buffy to a different, unnamed facility in LA, he didn't know what to do. They refused to let him see or speak to her before she left and all he knew for certain was that she had lived. He didn't know if she was sick or if she was afraid. The idea that she was alone again was terrifying. He must have sat there for several hours, just letting his thoughts run wild on what she must be feeling and what would happen, when her mother came to visit.

"Joyce," Angel said, coming to life and standing up quickly, "Is she okay? Did they tell you where they're taking her?"

"I need to get some of her clothes, Angel," Joyce answered, her eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying and her voice hoarse, "and then I'm going to Los Angeles."

"Did you see her?" Angel said, trying again, "Is she alright?"

"They won't let me see her," Joyce said as her eyes filled with tears again, "They told me that since she's over the age of eighteen they don't have to let me and...and since I could be part of the problem, I'll have to wait. The new facility won't let anyone see or talk to her for the first week. After that she'll be able to make phone calls."

"A week?" he said, sitting down again, "A week and then I can't even see her? What if she needs someone? They won't let her out?"

"Come on," Joyce prodded, wiping back her tears, "Let's go pack a bag for her. There's nothing else we can do for her. Not now anyway."

***

//now she thinks to herself, hey what just happened to me?
i told him that i thought it was over, i told him that i wanted to leave//

When the nurse took away her shoe strings and anything that she could use to hurt herself, Buffy felt like a criminal. They told her that her mother would be dropping off a bag of her clothes and that they would be searching through it before she could have it in her room. They carefully listed the things that they would keep at the desk, that she would have to come and check out if she needed them - one of them being her makeup. Buffy immediately balked at that announcement but the nurse's stern glare made her keep quiet.

Buffy obediently did as she was told and shied away from the rest of the patients as she trudged to her room and waited for her first appointment with her doctor. Thankfully, it was the first day, only hours after her arrival. She hurried to the office ten minutes early with a pile of questions that no one had answered yet. When she sat down at the desk, she stared blatantly at the woman behind the desk. She was young and beautiful, seeming to be a bit too young to be a doctor.

"Hello Buffy," the doctor said with a pleasant smile, "I'm Dr. Jana Calendar, but everyone here calls me ‘Jenny.'"

"Uh, hi Jenny," Buffy said quietly.

"I know I look young," Jenny said with a chuckle, "Don't worry. I am older than you think. We gypsies hold our age every well."

"You're a gypsy?" Buffy asked, leaning forward, truly intrigued.

"Yes," Jenny said with a twinkle in her dark eyes, "In fact, we have a lot of activities here for you to participate in while you're here and one of them is jewelry making. My people would be shocked that I reveal our secrets here."

"Cool," Buffy said, smiling a little back at her, "Look, Jenny, you seem really nice but I really have to be getting back. See, Angel's hurt and he needs me and my friends will be worried and-"

"Buffy, I know you're not going to want to hear this, but you're going to be here for a month at the very least," Jenny said, keeping her voice calm and soothing, "From the sound of the list you just rattled off, it seems like you have a lot of people who will be there for you when you go home, but for now, we're going to focus on you, not them."

"Can I call him?" Buffy asked, her lips quivering as she struggled not to cry, "I just need to tell him I'm alright. Please he needs to know I love him, that I didn't do this to hurt him."

"I know you're upset, Buffy," Jenny said softly, "And it's okay to be upset, but I can't let you call him, not until we know what made you try to take your life."

"I'm sorry!" she wailed, letting the tears fall down her face, "I'm really, really sorry! He didn't have anything to do with this. I just need to make one phone call, okay? And then I'll be good. I'll do whatever you say. Angel's going to think I was leaving *him.* What if he gives up on me while I'm away for so long? What if I lose him?"

"Let me introduce you to our laddering system," Jenny said, sliding a piece of paper across her desk, "The first week we will work on certain achievements and goals, if you do well on this first part, then the earliest you'll be able to make a phone call will be a week from now. If we do well then eventually, he can come see you."

"Can I send him a letter?"

"Buffy, we need to focus on you right now."

"A short one?" she pleaded.

***

//just get it if you need it now
just buy it if you need it in your life
don't worry if it all runs out
don't worry cause it never will//

Joyce was impressed with Angel's mansion and in particular, his personal apartment on the second floor. The rooms were plush and neat, filled with more expensive furniture than she would ever be able to provide for her daughter. The lavish apartment, however, was lacking anything to make it seem very personal. It almost looked like a sprawling hotel room, but there were things here and there that made it seem like when Buffy moved in, she had taken over. Joyce couldn't help but smile when she saw pictures of Buffy's friends and family hanging on the walls beside his rare paintings. Every time she saw a spark of color, she recognized something that was her daughter's.

When they made it to the bedroom, Angel dragged out his designer luggage and opened one of the suitcases on the bed to pack Buffy's things in. Joyce gasped at the huge bed with a comforter on it that cost more than her couch. In the center of the elegant pile of pillows sat Mr. Gordo, looking like the world's most pampered stuffed pig.

"Your place is lovely," Joyce said, picking up the pig from the bed and hugging him against her chest.

"Thanks," Angel said, saddening, "Buffy hates my furniture. She said it was too business-y. We were...well, I was going to get something different for her...and now..."

"She's going to come back home," Joyce said, sniffling, "And that sounds like her. All these gorgeous things and Buffy insults them."

"She didn't insult them...I mean, not really. She didn't mean it like that," he defended, opening the giant closet.

"I know, she has a way of insulting you that makes it seem like a great idea," Joyce said with a sad smile, "She always has had a way of saying things."

"She's gonna want that pig," Angel said, changing the subject and gesturing to Mr. Gordo, squeezed his love's mother's arms.

"I know," Joyce said, setting him gently in the corner of the suitcase. Together they picked the clothes she liked the best and folded them, placing them neatly in the suitcase. When Angel took a large black silk shirt and began folding it, Joyce looked at him strangely. "Isn't that yours?" she asked quietly.

"She likes it," Angel choked, pulling it up to his nose. It still smelled like her. "She wears it to bed sometimes.

"Oh," Joyce said, slightly nervous about the idea of her daughter sleeping with this man even though she did like him. It just seemed strange to be this accepting of her living with someone when she wasn't married, even as caring as he seemed to be.

"So where are you staying in LA?" Angel asked, changing the subject and moving to sit in a chair as Joyce fidgeted with Buffy's underwear and bras. Angel wanted to give her some tips, knowing more about Buffy's favorite panties than Joyce knew most likely, but he kept silent. He didn't want to make her more nervous than she already was.

"There's an inn about ten miles away from the...from where she is," Joyce said quietly, slipping some of Buffy's underthings in the bottom of the case, as if she were afraid Angel might see them.

"An inn ten miles away?" Angel echoed, rising to his feet. He grunted silently in pain as he remembered his wounds but he refused to take the pain medication now. He wasn't going to sleep away the days when he needed to be alert in case she needed him. "Seems far."

Joyce snuck as many panties and bras in the suitcase when Angel's back was turned. He was booting up his laptop and then got the address for the facility from Joyce. Carefully, he narrowed down the area on the web and turned to face her. She jumped as she quickly snuck the last of Buffy's underwear under the other clothes, slightly shocked by the amount of thongs and sexy wisps of nothing she had acquired since she moved from home.

"There's a Waldorf Astoria a mile away," Angel said, before turning back around and searching for the phone number, "It's nicer and much closer, Joyce. You should stay there."

"I can't...I can't afford to stay there," Joyce answered quickly and then went about getting shoes and socks for her daughter. "It's okay. I'll stay at the inn."

Angel couldn't help but scowl at her, "I'll pay for it. It's the least I can do. My father used to stay there all the time and they knew our family well. They'll treat you like one of the top guests."

"Angel, really, you've done enough. I won't accept this sort of charity from you," Joyce answered, clipping her words in a way that made him aware that she had made her decision.

"Joyce," Angel said, pulling absolutely no punches, "I love your daughter and I fully intend to marry her as soon as she is well, if she'll have me. By looking around here, I'm sure that you can tell I have money, but let me make this clear - I am a millionaire. I have more money than I will ever know what to do with. When I marry your daughter, it will be hers. I've already changed my will so that if something happens to me, she will be a very rich woman. Now why would you stay at some cheap inn ten miles away when you can stay at a plush hotel a mile away and have a limo take you to see her when she can have visitors. Just as soon as I can see her, I plan to get a room as well."

"It's not right," Joyce said, keeping her eyes away from him.

Scoffing loudly, Angel picked up the phone. "Joyce," he said as he dialed, "Your daughter is going to be the richest person in Sunnydale and most of Los Angeles. In my mind, she already is. It's ridiculous for you to stay at that inn."

"Yes, this is Liam Angelus," Angel said into the phone when the receptionist answered, "I want to make a reservation...Thank you. We all miss my father very much...Yes, I want the same suite. It's for my fiancé's mother. Her name is Joyce Summers and I would like her to be treated as if...Yes, that's right...Right and the limo...Yes, thank you. Bill me, she is not to pay a cent for anything while she's...Yes, the bar and restaurant...Yes. Perfect. I want a second room for myself. I'll be following her in a few days. No, my fiancé will not be with me. Right. Good day."

"You-You can't do that!" Joyce shouted angrily, "I told you that I wouldn't do that!"

"Why not?" Angel said, dropping the phone to the bed, "That stupid inn is not good enough for Buffy and I would never let her stay there, so it's not good enough for you. You think a couple of weeks in a hotel will break my bank account, Joyce? Just take it as a gift and say thank you!"

"Thank you," she shouted, glaring at him.

"Wonderful," Angel snapped and then looked back her, calming his irritation, "I want to marry her, Joyce. Did you miss that part? I love Buffy more than I have ever loved anything. If I had been a better companion to her this never would have happened and for now on, I'm going to make sure she has everything she needs. That includes you."

"Where are you going?" Joyce asked as he moved from the room.

"I'm going to write her a note and sneak it in the suitcase somewhere where they won't find it and take it away," he said and retrieved his book bag from the living room.

***

Part Sixteen

***

//they said she, she just disappeared
they said I look just like her//

"Angel," Gunn said, plopping down on the couch next to his friend, "You're gonna have to get out of the house. If you don't move soon, you're gonna start to mold."

"Go away," Angel said, staring at the living room wall. He had his cordless phone from his room in one hand and the main house phone in the other. No phone call had made it through without Angel fielding it first and any resident that tried to make a call over ten minutes in the last three days was nearly glared to death.

"She's alive and getting help," Gunn added, "and the house keepers you hired are going to start dusting you off like a piece of furniture if you don't get up. Besides, your clothes could probably walk around on their own by now. Take a shower, have something to eat and...hey, maybe you could go to a class or something."

"He's right, mate," Spike said, settling in a chair across the room and propping his black booted feet on the coffee table, "You're depressing the bloody hell out of me."

"What is this?" Angel grunted, "An intervention? Go find a kitten stuck in a tree somewhere and leave me alone."

"Look, Peaches," Spike sighed, "You've been a lunatic since she left. I know it hurts, but you need to grow some effin' balls, Nancy Boy. Chit's cooling her pretty heels and having a shrink interpret her dreams or some shit. She'll be able to call you in a couple of days. Get a grip."

"Don't you give me that bullshit, Spike!" Angel growled, "If this was Drusilla, you'd be drowning in a bottle right now and you know it."

"Dru would never try to off herself," Spike grumbled and then scrambled from his chair when he saw his comment made it to Angel's ears. Spike found himself slammed back in his seat with his brother's large hand wrapped around his throat. He gasped for breath and pushed Angel's broad shoulders away from him, but didn't manage to budge him an inch.

"Don't ever say anything to me again about what she tried to do," Angel roared, "I put up with a lot of shit from you, Spike, but you aren't allowed to talk to me about Buffy, you got it?"

***

//there is a dream i can't escape
my memories come back to me
there is a hell i can't escape
my memories come back to me//

Buffy stared at the note in her hands, trying to reread the words while her hands shook and her eyes filled. She had found it that morning inside the pocket of her favorite jeans and still couldn't believe it was there. He had folded it so smoothly and taped it inside so that if they were shaken it wouldn't fall free. The jeans had been on her body for hours before she ever knew it was there and now she wiped her eyes and peered down once more at the half page before her:

"Dear Buffy,

"I hope this letter gets through to you. I know they'll take it away if they find it, but I had to try. So many things have been running through my mind in the last few days and I have a million questions that I know you can't answer right now. So, I'll just answer your questions - the ones I think you have anyway.

"I found your note, the one you left in Giles' office. I don't know why you think you can't have me, my love, but you can. You do have me. I will be here for you forever. That's the whole point. There's nothing you can do to make me so angry or disappointed that I would leave you. Nothing. As long as you live, my heart and everything I have is yours.

"I miss you every second and I want you to know that I've tried to get them to let me speak to you. I know that you can't call me either and it's okay. I understand that you need to heal and when you're allowed to use the phone, I hope you'll call me. If you don't, I'll wait until you're ready.

"I told myself that I wouldn't add this part, but this is the 3rd draft of this letter and I keep writing it, so I'll leave it in: I can't imagine my life without you in it. Not anymore. Every time I think of what I would do without you, I can't see that far. I panicked when I saw you lying on the floor and something died inside me when I thought I was too late.

"You will never know what you mean to me. You'll never know how much I love you, but if you will get better and come home to me, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to show you.

Always,
Angel"

"What are you all weepy about, Pollyanna?"

"W-what?" Buffy sniffled, pressing Angel's letter to her chest and looking up at the dark haired, menacing girl who stood in front of her. She was leaning against a tree, hiding as much as she could in the courtyard area outside that was provided for the wing's patients.

"You've been moping around here for days," the girl said, "You're depressing me and for this place that's saying something. I'm Faith, by the way."

"Hello Faith," Buffy mumbled miserably, "I'm Buffy."

"What cha got there, Twinkie?" Faith said, lowering to a squat, "Love letter?"

"Could you just leave me alone?" Buffy asked, "I'm really not in the mood-"

"To what? Interact with others? Heal? No, you're just going to cry at whatever made you fucked up enough to get in here," Faith scoffed, "What'd you do? OD on Metabolife?"

"No," Buffy said, narrowing her eyes at her, "What are you here for? You have to try to kill yourself to be here, right?"

"I didn't try to kill myself," Faith huffed, jutting her chin out proudly, "I just overdosed and they won't believe that I wasn't committing suicide. They said I have suicidal tendencies. Whatever."

"How long have you been here?" Buffy asked quietly, looking around her to make sure no one was listening in.

"Month and a half."

"A month and a half!" Buffy wailed, "I thought they didn't keep anyone longer than a month! I can't stay here that long!"

"Chill," Faith said, "You're a sniveling brat, you know that? I'm here by choice. Don't wanna leave."

"Why the hell not?" Buffy said, rising to her feet, "You must *really* be insane."

"I can tell you're used to the happy, shiny parts of life," Faith said, looking into Buffy's wide and afraid eyes, "Where I come from, you have two choices, live rough or die. Things are easy here. I get a nicer bed than any I've ever slept in, three meals a day and I don't have to...do any of the things I used to do. It's warm here, safe. Not that I'd expect you to understand that."

"You don't know anything about what I've gone through," Buffy snapped, rising to her feet, "I'm sorry your life sucks, but that's no reason to pick on me when you don't know shit about me!"

"Ooh, the Twink's got grit," Faith said with a grin and standing up as well, "You might have some potential after all."

"I'm so glad you think so," Buffy said dryly as she turned to head inside. She quickly folded the note and shoved it safely back in her pocket.

"You never answered my question about your paper there," Faith said, making Buffy stop in her tracks, "You know, that kind of emotional shit gets people in trouble around here."

***

//i don't even have the strength to pick up the phone
you wouldn't know me since you went away//

Buffy and Faith crept along the hallway in the dark late that night. Buffy was impressed that Faith knew the nurses' schedules so well. Her her dark, would-be friend later explained that she often snuck in the men's wing to get a little "down and dirty action." After getting caught a couple of times, she quickly memorized the whole damn ward's rituals. She could tell you where almost anyone was at any given time. It was kind cool, actually.

Faith proved to be more useful than just tossing out barbing remarks as she led Buffy straight to Dr. Calendar's office, dropped to one knee and picked the lock with a bobby pin that she had stolen from a nurse several weeks before. Buffy watched in awe as the lock clicked and Faith stood before swinging open the door with a smug smile on her face.

"Come on," Faith whispered, waving her in, "We have a ten minute window before that bitch comes back."

"She's okay," Buffy said with a shrug as she slipped inside and closed the door quietly behind her. She headed directly for the phone and picked up the receiver. She didn't really want to make this call with Faith standing there looking at her, but she didn't have a choice. She had a feeling that if she said something Faith would argue with her for 9 of her 10 minutes before just listening on the other side of the door.

"She's a horrible excuse for a human being and I hope she trips on the way back," Faith snorted, making herself comfortable in Jenny's chair and slamming her feet down on the desk before crossing her legs at the ankle.

"Alrighty then," Buffy said, rolling her eyes, "You have some issues, Faith. She's just doing her job."

"Be funnier if she had to do it hobbling around on a broken leg."

Buffy shook her head and decided not to comment further. Faith was obviously not going to budge on the topic. Buffy took a deep breath before shakily dialing the number to Angel's personal line. As the phone rang a fourth time, Buffy closed her eyes in frustration. His answering machine was going to pick up and if he didn't pick up his cell phone when she tried to call that, then she wouldn't be able to talk to him. Just as the answering machine picked up and she prepared to hang up, he answered with a breathless, "Hello?"

Buffy opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. Keeping her eyes tightly closed. What would she say? How would she explain anything?

"Hello?" Angel repeated, "Hello?"

"A-Angel?" Buffy stammered quietly.

"Buffy," he said in a rush of breath, certain he imagined the sound of her voice, "Is that you, baby?"

"It's me," she whispered. She swallowed harshly as she managed to pry her eyes open. She stared at the desk in front of her, trying desperately to pretend that Faith's eyes weren't boring into her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, keeping his voice as soothing as he could.

"I'm...I'm alright," she answered, "I can't talk long cause I'm sneaking this call. I got your note and I just wanted to tell you that I..."

"You what, love?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She regretted that her voice was cracking and that the tears she was beginning to hate were welling in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Angel."

"Don't be sorry," he said, "I just want you to focus on getting better."

"I love you," she whispered, "I love you so much and I know that I messed up. It wasn't because of you. I just wanted to tell you that."

"Okay," he said reluctantly. It seemed vain to think that he was the reason for her attempted suicide, but at the same time, she spent all of her time with him. He was the one who was supposed to make things better and he hadn't. He thought he was helping and that she was getting better and the whole time he had done nothing to help her at all. If anything, he just helped her bury her feelings inside herself.

"Angel," Buffy said, quickly wiping away the tears as they fell, "Please believe me. Please don't think it was you. I promise it wasn't."

"Alright, baby," he said quickly, "I believe you. It's okay."

"I love you," she added, pressing her forehead against the wood of Jenny's desk, "Will you...will you come see me in a couple of weeks when I can have visitors?"

"Of course," he answered, "I'd be there now if I could. In fact, your mom's already there staying in a hotel and I'm going to get a room in a couple of days."

"Are you mad at me?" she asked, her voice small and childlike.

"No, baby. I'm not mad," he answered, perhaps a bit too quickly, "I love you."

"I love you too," she sniffled, "I'll call again when they let me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding on his end even though he knew she couldn't see him, "Call my cell phone, alright? Do you have that number?"

"Yes. I have it," she answered, "Can you call my mom? Tell her that I'm okay?"

"Yeah, I'll call her in the morning," he said, "I'll see you soon."

"‘Kay," Buffy said, biting her lip, "Bye Angel."

Buffy hung up the phone and sat there, keeping her forehead pressed against the desk and peering at the floor. She looked up in alarm when Faith finally spoke, startled because she had almost forgotten that she was there, but now that she made her presence known she cringed to think of what hurtful comment her friend would make.

"Come on, B," Faith said, rising to her feet and heading for the door, "We've got to hurry."

"Thanks for helping me," Buffy said, shuffling behind her.

"Thank me when we don't get caught," Faith grumbled, "Now come on, weepy, we gotta jam."

***

Part Seventeen

***

//i don’t want to be your downtime
i don’t want to be your stupid game//

Angel felt his body aching and couldn’t think of a way to make it stop. He wanted nothing more than to walk into that building, sweep Buffy’s slight body into his arms and carry her out, knocking away anyone who stood in his way. His soul grieved and his heart was swelling, causing the rest of him to jolt in response. Hours were spent pacing around his large room at the Waldorf, making tracks in the expensive flooring, thinking about how to make things right.

The Monday following her first call to him, he waited all day to see if she would call. Although he was waiting to hear his phone ring, the actual sound nearly made him jump out of his skin. The first call was was stilted, filled with I miss yous and I love yous. The following ones were daily nonsense - what each of them had been filling their days with and how they planned to spend the evenings. The more he thought about the calls, the more he thought they weren’t enough. He wasn’t saying the right things. Hell, he wasn’t saying anything meaningful at all.

He wished he could think of some magical phrase, something that would make her understand how much she meant to him, anything that would convince her how important her life was to him. He wanted more than anything for her to come home but he was terrified that if she did, she would try to hurt herself again. His wakeful nights were filled with horrified thoughts of what could happen and when he accidentally fell into a troublesome sleep, his dreams reminded him of the things his conscious mind hadn’t thought of yet.

Now he had one more night to get through until he could see her and he knew it would probably be the longest. He stared at himself in the mirror and groaned. He looked like shit. Dark circles ringed his eyes from the lack of sleep and he had grown way too thin from forgetting to eat or barely getting anything down when he did remember. One look at him and she would know that he had spent every moment worrying about her.

Just as he prepared to call room service to order a meal, a small knock on his door forced him away from his reflection. He trudged over and swung it open, not bothering to glance through the peephole first. Keeping his grimace in check, he stepped back and waved in Joyce Summers.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said politely as she walked inside, almost tiptoeing as if she thought she would wake someone up.

“No, you’re not,” he said, waiting for her to sit down on the sofa and then sitting down in the chair across from her. “What can I do for you, Joyce?”

“I don’t know how to say this,” she said, wringing her hands nervously, “But I don’t think you should be the first person to see Buffy tomorrow. I want to see her first, so I’m asking you to wait until 5 o’clock to go. Give me an hour alone with her.”

“You’re not going to try and keep me away, are you?” Angel asked, keeping the stridence from his tone as much as possible. He had a sneaking fear that there was some form or waiver inside there to keep certain people from the guest list.

“No,” Joyce answered, forcing a smile on her lips, but it looked weak and it trembled.

“Joyce, I have to see her. I know you still have some strange dislike for me and I can accept that, but she asked me to come tomorrow and I promised her I would. I’m not going to break my word to Buffy,” Angel said, looking directly in her eyes.

“She was with you when she tried to kill herself!” Joyce blurted as she stood up from the couch, “I don’t think you should be anywhere near her!”

“I’m sorry, Joyce,” Angel said, keeping his seat, knowing if he towered over her while he was this upset, it would only make things worse. Instead, he gripped the sides of the chair and took a deep breath. “But it really doesn’t matter what you think. If Buffy doesn’t want me there, then I’ll stay away. This is her life and I’m going to make sure that she knows that she has choices in it. It’s bad enough that she doesn’t have a choice to leave that place if she wants.”

“I’m doing the best I can for her!” Joyce shouted, “The people in her life were what drove her to this! She needs to be away from you and those other people she’s been around. She was fine before!”

“You locked her up in there, didn’t you?” Angel accused, narrowing his eyes angrily, “You said you didn’t have a choice, but you did!”

“Of course, I had a choice,” she shouted, “You think they can just lock her up against her will? I’m doing what’s best for my daughter.”

“Did you ever try asking *her* what *she* wants rather than just thinking for her?” Angel demanded, struggling to keep himself in his chair. “I agree she needs therapy and I definitely think she needs some time to herself, but you haven’t even admitted to her that you’re the reason she’s there! She thinks she’s in some kind of prison! I told you once that I’m not stepping aside and I meant it. When visiting hours come at 4 o’clock tomorrow, I’m going to be there. If you try to keep me from her, I’ll tell her what you’ve done.”

“She won’t believe you!” Joyce shouted, “I’m her mother!”

“Are you willing to take that chance?” Angel asked, finally unfolding his large frame from the chair and glaring across the room at her. “I think we both know she’ll believe me.”

“You’re the reason she didn’t talk to me before,” Joyce said, sinking back onto the couch, “Why are you doing this to us? She’s my only child and I have to protect her.”

“I love her,” Angel said, circling his chair and bracing his hands on the back of it, “ and I’ll never hurt her. Riley hurt her, Joyce, and you hurt her by being so blind that you can’t see what she needs and doesn’t need. I think you should get to know your daughter.”

“How long have you been with her? A few months?” Joyce demanded angrily, “You think just because you’re screwing her you know who she is?”

“No,” Angel answered, “I know who she is because I talk to her and she talks to me. I’m not saying I know her every wish or dream. I don’t and I never will. Hell, I’m not entirely sure if I’m what she needs in her life, but I’m going to make sure she knows she has me. Even if you manage to keep me away while she’s in that place, when she gets out you won’t be able to keep us apart. I can promise you that. What do think she’ll do when I tell her that you’re the reason I can’t be there when she needs me?”

***

//bidding their darkened spirits goodbye
for the calming peace of a cloudless sky//

“Don’t tell me, I know this one,” Faith said, leaning back in the grass next to Buffy in the small courtyard outside where the patients were they were allowed to spend their free time, “Jenny shrank you on Angel’s visit today.”

“Yeah, that was a disaster,” Buffy said gloomily, “For a second I thought she was going to tell me that he couldn’t come cause I’m so nervous about it.”

“Nah, she’d never do that,” Faith said, shaking her dark head, “She knows if we weren’t allowed to have visitors we’d go postal.”

“That’s a good,” Buffy said, “Cause I already told him he could come. He is going to come, right?”

“Lover boy’ll be here,” Faith said, smiling knowingly, “No doubt spouting his eternal love like he always does.”

“What if he changes his mind about me?” Buffy frowned, leaning her head against the tree thoughtfully, “What if he shows up and decides I’m a nutcase before he goes running out of here? Or maybe he’ll wait until I’m released and then tell me that he doesn’t love me anymore. Or maybe-“

“You’re killing me, B,” Faith groaned, laying back in the grass, “He’s wicked crazy about you. Even I can tell that and I just eavesdrop on half the conversations. Just wait. I’m sure he’ll be here with bells on. I can’t wait to see him. If he’s as hot as you say he is, I’ll have some eye candy tonight.”

“He’s beautiful,” Buffy said, smiling dreamily.

“Oh gawd,” Faith groaned again, looking up at the cloudless sky as she rolled her eyes heavenward.

***

//i don’t wanna be the bad guy
i don’t wanna do your sleepwalk dance anymore//

Angel made sure that Joyce did not get to the facility before him. In fact, he was sitting on the front steps reading a book an hour prior just to make sure. He was still reeling from his conversation with her the night before and even went as far to ask the hotel’s front desk to let him know if she left for any reason. The idea that he would be kept from Buffy any longer made his stomach turn. It was bad enough that visitation hours were only from 5 PM - 9 PM.

Angel, while pretending to read, was calculating the minimum time he would be forced to stay away from Buffy for the next couple of weeks so he didn’t notice when Joyce arrived at quarter to five until she sat down wordlessly next to him on the steps. Angel closed his book and turned it over in his hands as he waited for her to speak.

“I’m not going to do anything to keep you from her,” Joyce said quietly, “But I am going to ask her what she wants. If she says she doesn’t want you there, will you leave?”

“Yes,” Angel said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “But I want to hear her say it. It won’t mean anything to me coming from you.”

“Thank you,” she said, keeping her voice steady and low.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Angel asked, glancing at his watch before turning to his love’s mother, “What did I ever do to you to make you think I’m such a horrible person? Joyce, I don’t beat Buffy, I don’t mistreat her and I’m not trying to take anything from either of you. All I want to do is love her.”

“I trusted Riley,” Joyce said, looking straight ahead into the street, “I trusted him and he raped and beat my daughter. She acted like she loved him too. Just because she acts like she loves you doesn’t mean she does.”

“I’m not Riley Finn,” Angel said, rising to his feet and heading toward the front door of the facility. “And I’m sure as hell not Hank Summers.”

Despite the sound of Joyce’s intake of breath and his name coming from her lips in an outrage, he didn’t turn around. He was tired of defending himself...and he had someplace to be.

***

//tell me where have you been
you know, i just closed my eyes
and the whole world disappeared//

Buffy changed three times before Faith told her she was all “hoed out” and then twice more after that. All of her clothes felt wrong on her body all of sudden, hanging from her too thin frame like rags. She tried on everything and almost decided to hide her body inside Angel’s huge shirt, before it was vetoed by Faith, who told her she was being fucking stupid. At least in his shirt, he would know she loved him and he would have a harder time seeing that her once lithe and supple frame had turned into the starved waif look. As she slipped on a pair of jeans, she wondered where along her suicidal road she had lost her curves.

During the whole ensemblely challenged ordeal, Faith stayed in Buffy’s room, lounging on her bed, laughing and scrambling her blonde friend’s nerves as much as she could...just for the hell of it.

When Buffy had finally decided on the jeans Angel had slipped her note in, a black camisole and her favorite chunky black boots, she walked out into the lounge area with Faith closely at her heels. She left her hair down and found herself twirling the ends around her fingers nervously. She was sure that it would be in knots before he got there, but she was beyond caring. All she could think of was whether or not he would actually show up.

“Damn,” Faith hissed under her breath as a tall, dark man walked in followed by a motherly type woman and the on-staff nurse, “Is that him?”

“Yes,” Buffy answered, after spinning around in mid-pace. She felt her knees shaking uncontrollably along with her hands and the rest of her body as she approached Angel and her mother. She stopped short in front of both of them, looking from one to the other unsure of whom she should greet first. The choice was made for her when her mother nearly knocked her over, rushing around Angel to take her daughter in her arms.

“Buffy,” Joyce whispered as she hugged her tightly to her chest. Buffy mumbled a greeting as she looked at Angel over her mom’s shoulder. He looked thin as well and tired. In fact, he looked exhausted like sheer will was the only thing keeping him awake. She stifled a sob when she reached his eyes, feeling the sadness set in deeper inside her.

“How are you, sweetheart?” Joyce asked, pulling back and holding Buffy by the shoulders. She scruntized her daughter closely, as if she were looking for some physical mark or wound that would be apparent on the outside rather than in.

“I’m okay,” Buffy answered, rasping out her reply. She slowly disentangled herself from her mother’s iron grip and approached Angel, inching over slowly as if she expected him to bite her. He met her half way and even though he had planned to quell his emotions, he swept her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

Angel felt Joyce looking on as he held Buffy, but he ignored her deliberately. “I missed you,” Angel whispered into her hair, wondering if her little bones would crack beneath his embrace. He didn’t even realize that he had lifted her off of the ground and was peppering little kisses all over her face until he had reached her lips.

“I missed you too,” she managed to whisper back when he set her back on her feet. He closed his eyes when she caressed his face with a shaking hand. Her fingertips felt to familiar, so achingly strange again against his skin.

***

//i can’t take the pain of wanting her, needing her//

Despite everything he had planned and his argument with Joyce, Angel found himself waiting in the lounge with Buffy’s friend, Faith, as she and her mother went out to the courtyard to talk. He couldn’t help staring at them out the window as they sat in the chairs there and talked. Buffy’s movements seemed stilted and nervous and the more he watched her, the more nervous he got. She had lost too much weight and she seemed to be trembling more every second. It was all he could do to sit there when she was so close.

He was forced to wait a whole hour before Joyce came back in, leaving Buffy there on the lighted patio, staring out into grass and trees. He watched as Joyce approached him, not hearing whatever Faith was saying to him.

“I’m going back to the hotel,” Joyce informed him curtly, “Buffy and I agreed that I will visit with her every day from four to five and you can have the rest of the time if you want.”

“Did you tell her about our argument?” Angel asked, keeping the word singular rather than plural. No need to bring up how often they had been fighting since Buffy went away.

“I asked her if she wanted you here and she said she does,” Joyce answered and tightened her lips as Angel, in spite of his attempt not to, smiled. Taking a deep breath, she continued, “If you upset her, I will make sure you can’t come back.”

“What’d you do to piss her off?” Faith asked, once Joyce had left and Angel stood to go outside to meet with Buffy.

“Just existing is enough, I think,” Angel said, shaking his head as he moved toward the door.

***

//all the words they give her
make her feel so soft and pretty
she wears them but they never seem to fit//

“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you,” Angel said, as he sat down in the chair next to Buffy, “But nothing seems to be right.”

“I know the feeling,” Buffy agreed. Their chairs were side by side, but both were turned in their seats so they could look at each other. Neither reached out to touch the other even though that’s all they wanted to do.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about us, Buffy,” Angel said, finally, causing Buffy to bite her lip nervously and look away. Tears welled up in her eyes and her heart sank as she waited for him to tell her he didn’t love her or that he wasn’t coming back. She stared out in the darkening sky and gripped the arms of her chair as she waited for him to continue.

“Look at me, baby,” he said gently and waited until she turned her tearing eyes back to him. “All I have been able to do is think about how to tell you I love you so you’ll believe me or what I could say to make you want to come home to me when you’re better. I don’t know what the right words are, Buffy. I don’t know how to make this awkwardness disappear. I want to make you happy, but I don’t know how. If you’d be happier if I stayed away, just tell me and I promise I’ll try.”

“Please don’t go,” Buffy said, horrified that he would even think that she might not want him there, “I’m sorry I’m crazy, Angel.”

“You’re not crazy, love,” he said, prying one of her hands off of the arm of the chair and taking it in his, “You’re unhappy. We’ll make it better, okay? All you need is a little more time and then you can come home.”

“I need to know something,” Buffy said quietly, “What…what happens when I get out of here?”

“What do I think will happen or what do I want to happen?” he asked.

“Both, either…whatever. Do you really want me to come home with you or are you saying that cause you think I’m a basketcase?” she asked, determined to keep her tears at bay. If Angel wanted her to not live with him again, she was going to accept in an adult-like manner…at least until he left anyway.

Angel nearly growled with irritation at her question and pulled her into his lap before he thought about the ramifications of such an action in that sort of sterile, hospital-like environment. He held her tightly to him with one arm and cupped her face with the other, “Buffy, I want you to come home with me. I want you in my bed, in my life for as long as you’ll have me. I don’t know any other way to tell you that I am madly in love with you.”

“I love you too,” she whimpered quietly, keeping her eyes away from his. None of it made any sense. She had caused him to get shot twice, jacked up his school year, invaded his apartment, turned his house into a militarized zone and pretty much ruined his entire life. He couldn’t possibly mean what he was saying.

“Why would I even bother coming here if I didn’t love you, godamn it?” he demanded so loudly that the nurses inside and Faith could all hear his roar of irritation. The weeks without her were wearing thin and he was beyond giving a shit what anyone else thought. Nothing mattered anymore but convincing his little lost love what she meant to him. Albeit, slightly less yelling and more kissing probably could have accomplished much the same thing, he couldn’t stand the thought that she still might not get it. “I’ve thought about you every minute since…since you left. I don’t think you’re crazy, Buffy. Hell, all of my friends think *I’ve* gone crazy! I think about you every second of every useless day and I miss you so damn much I can’t even sleep without dreaming of you. I want to marry you and take care of you the rest of your life. I love you, Buffy Summers. You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted! I just need to know if you want me as much as I want you?”

“More,” she croaked out allowing her tears to flow freely from her eyes as she buried her face in his chest.

“I don’t even think that’s possible,” he whispered into her hair, holding her to him more tightly.

***

Part Eighteen

***

//i think you like to be the victim
i think you like to be in pain//

Angel left not one second before 9 PM that evening. In fact, he left several minutes after with the staff nurse nearly pushing him out the door. Buffy floated back to her room, not bothering to stop to talk to Faith, as she usually did before bed. She didn’t want to do anything but stay wrapped in the warmth of him that still covered her entire body. She shed her clothes, slipped on his shirt, climbed into bed and huddled beneath the covers as if she were trying to trap him under there with her.

She had forgotten how much she loved to be in his arms. It was just enough to make her ache for more and all of a sudden, she felt like her attempt on her own life was as much a gyp to herself as it was to him. The idea of not spending another night with his large body pressed against hers, wrapped around her, was maddening. She closed her eyes tightly and she could almost feel him there, pressing his chest against hers, his hand intertwined in her smaller one.

“So,” Faith said, strolling into Buffy’s bedroom and flipping on her light without bothering to knock, “Angel gave you that low down tickle and you had to jump right into bed without so much as a ‘nitey nite’ to me, huh?”

“God, Faith,” Buffy groaned, turning over to face her friend, “You really have a way with words, you know that?”

“Just telling it how I see it,” Faith said, shrugging and planting herself on the end of the bed. She smiled dazzlingly, her grin growing wider until Buffy huffed a much too loud, “What?”

“So Angel’s a muffin,” Faith said, raising a dark eyebrow, “And so into you he didn’t even notice that I was talking to him.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said noncommitally, hoping that if she didn’t talk Faith would simply find her way back out as quickly as she found her way in and leave her to the dreams she planned to have.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to fantasize about your honey,” Faith said, rising from the end of the bed, “But if you wanna piece of that fine ass during visiting hours, let me know.”

“Ooookay. You are so not right,” Buffy said, rolling her eyes, “You think they’re just going to let him walk in my room and we can do whatever we want?”

“I never said in here, Twinkie,” Faith answered with a smirk, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “All we have to do is pop the lock on the supply room and sneak him in there with you just after evening rounds.”

“I can wait,” Buffy said, turning over in bed suddenly and betraying to Faith that she had at least *thought* about it, “I don’t need to screw Angel in a supply closet. I’m trying to get back to sane here, you know. It’s not a party.”

“*You* can wait,” Faith said, “But can Mr. Tall, Dark and Munchable?”

“Of course,” Buffy said pointedly, risking a glance over her shoulder, “I mean, it’s not like he’s going to have to go without for very long and besides, he’s not a sex fiend like *some* people around here.”

***

//we never talk about the future
we never talk about the past anymore
we never ask ourselves the questions to the answers that nobody even wants to know
i guess the honeymoon is over
so much for the afterglow//

But Angel *was* a sex fiend and Buffy knew it. He could never get enough of her when they were together and suddenly every time she looked at him for his next two visits, she wondered how he felt about being apart, if he thought about sleeping with other women while she was away. She thought about that big hotel he slept in every night. She knew he loved her, but did he think about taking another woman in his bed? When she closed her eyes she started to see beautiful, faceless, female bodies pressed against a mattress she hadn’t even seen, other women gasping his name and writhing beneath him.

Their visits were wonderful despite Buffy’s fears. When she was with him, she knew that he hadn’t touched anyone else, that he wouldn’t dream of making love to another woman. She knew from one look in his eyes that his feelings for her were clear. Still, on Wednesday evening as they were curled up together against the big Redwood tree in the courtyard, she knew she was going to have to bring it up before she went crazy thinking about it.

“I have something for you,” she said against his chest and sat up to look at him for a second before digging in her pocket. He watched her silently, wondering what she could possibly have for him when she placed a little silver ring in his hand. It was just a simple piece of jewelry with two interwoven strands.

“I won it,” she said, placing it in the center of his outstretched hand. Suddenly the gift seemed silly when she saw it in his large palm. “We were playing this game in group therapy,” Buffy explained, “Anyway, I wanted to give it to you.”

“Thank you,” he said, holding it between his forefinger and thumb, peering at it in the darkness. He leaned over and pressed his lips to her temple in a soft kiss that felt like a smile.

“You don’t have to wear it or anything,” Buffy said quickly, “Probably won’t fit. It’s kinda silly. It’s just this cheap little thing, but I...”

“It’s not silly,” he said, slipping on his pinky finger and then wrapping his arm around her, “I love it.”

“I was just thinking about rings, you know and how they’re supposed to represent something that has no end and no beginning. They’re never ending,” she said, leaning against his chest again, “That’s what I want. I knew the moment I really thought I was going to die, when that doctor was telling me that I might, that I wanted to live. That’s why I gave it to you, so you’d know. It’s kind of like a promise from me to you, that instead of taking my life, I’m...I’m giving it to you.”

Buffy waited for him to answer for several moments, but was met with complete silence. Unnerved, she started to sit up and look at him when he pulled her in more tightly. It wasn’t until he rubbed his cheek against hers that she realized his face was damp.

“I wanted you to tell me so badly that you wanted...” he said, tapering off to take a deep shuddering breath. “Buffy, I’m so afraid that you’ll try to do this again. I didn’t know how to bring it up. I don’t even know what made you do what you did, love. You kept telling me it wasn’t me, but...”

“No, Angel,” Buffy gasped, bolting up from where he was holding her to him and pivoting. She swung her leg over his and straddled his lap so that she could meet his eyes directly. “It wasn’t you. I...I was so confused and I wasn’t dealing and I was trying to be perfect for you so you wouldn’t hate me for being so stupid and weak. Then that day, I was taking a shower and realized I was really late and I thought I was pregnant. I just knew I was carrying that monster’s child and I just...I just lost it.”

“Were y-you pregnant?” Angel stammered, swallowing harshly.

“No,” she said, leaning forward until her forehead rested against his chest, “It never even occurred to me that it could have been yours until later and then I didn’t want to tell you. Do you hate me now?”

“No,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back gently, “I just wish you would have come to me. I told you that nothing is so horrible to make me leave you, Buffy. Even if you had been pregnant and it had been Riley’s, we would have dealt with it.”

“There’s something else I’ve been thinking about,” Buffy said, keeping her head tucked safely against his chest.

“What’s that, love?”

“Making love to you,” she said as she absently traced the muscles hidden by his shirt, “I mean, do you miss it?”

“Of course, I miss it,” he answered, kissing the top of her head, “I miss holding you and making love to you. I miss going to bed with you at night and waking up with you in the morning but there’ll be plenty of time for that when you come home.”

“Do you think about it?” she prodded.

“Sure, I do,” he said, tipping her chin up so their eyes met, “Believe me, baby, I think about making love to you all the time.”

“Me too,” she said, kissing him lightly and then more deeply before snuggling against him again.

*** //you know all the right people
you play all the right games//

“Supply closet,” Buffy said the following morning almost the second she saw Faith. “I want to know how we can pull it off.”

“After evening rounds,” Faith said, laughing as she spoke, “I’ll pop the lock and then a few minutes later, he can pop you. It should be around 5:30 or so. Plenty of time for your mother to get out and Angel to get in.”

“You’re sick. You know that?” Buffy said, slouching on the couch and pretending to glare at her.

“You’re the one who wants to hump in the closet,” Faith smirked back, “And I’m the sick one. Yeah. Okay.”

A loud crash down the hallway closely followed by a woman’s scream forced their conversation to a halt. Faith and Buffy both jumped up and skidded into the hall and started down it as thumps, grunts and screams continued to echo down to them. By the time they reached the end of the long corridor, a crowd had formed but they could see that the noise was coming from Jenny’s office and the guards were already in there.

They lagged at the back of the crowd of curious patients until the guards dragged a male patient out of the office and forced him down the hall. His resistance mixed with their forcefulness caused him to stumble forward and nearly tip over. He was not a large man, but the look in his eyes gave Buffy the chills. His eyes held a fury that she wasn’t familiar with and didn’t want to be.

The man, undoubtedly the most loony in the loony bin, as Faith whispered in Buffy’s ear, wasn’t the most shocking part of the event. A minute or two after the guy was man handled out of the ward, a couple of orderlies came running in with a gurney. Buffy sucked in a horrified breath as they wheeled it back out again and lying on it was a very bloodied and beaten Jenny Calendar.

“Oh my God,” Buffy whispered harshly, “Jenny.”

“Holy shit,” Faith said in unison as they both turned in slow motion to watch their doctor being wheeled away from them, just conscious enough to moan in pain.

***

//angel turns away
pulls her dress back down
slowly washes her face//

“He totally went nuts,” Buffy gasped to Angel after telling him the whole grueling event of Jenny’s earlier attack, “More nuts than most around here anyway and Faith said that the nurse said that she’s not coming back, like, ever. The guy was shipped off to a *real* mental institution and Jenny’s in the hospital. We’re supposed to get a new doctor tomorrow.”

“Wow,” Angel said, shaking his head, “Sounds like you had an exciting afternoon.” He looked out the window for a moment as the idea dawned on him that if Dr. Calendar wasn’t even safe, then Buffy could possibly be harmed here. The idea made his blood run cold and he couldn’t help that his face was twisted into a scowl.

“What?” Buffy said, and then repeated herself before he looked back at her, “What’s wrong?”

“If there’s ever anyone here that makes you feel uncomfortable, if someone looks at you wrong, call me,” Angel barked. It wasn’t a request. It was an order. He was terrified that something might happen to her and he couldn’t believe he had invested in the false security of this sterile place. Suddenly, her refuge seemed less refugey and more dangerous.

“Angel, it was just that one guy,” Buffy said, rubbing his arm soothingly, “And it was because Jenny wouldn’t let him leave early. We can all see now why he wasn’t ready to go.”

“Still,” Angel said, “If you feel unsafe, I want to know about it and I’ll pull you out of this place. I’m not kidding. I won’t have you in danger for one second.”

“You can do that?” Buffy asked with astonishment, her face flushing as the realm of possibilities was presented to her. If she hated the new doctor or if she felt trapped, Angel could set her free. The thought was affecting her like a drug and her whole body warmed to the idea of being at the mansion again, tucked beside her lover in that giant bed, surrounded by nothing but him and Egyptian cotton.

“I can do whatever I damn well please,” Angel answered stubbornly, “Don’t worry, love. If you need to get out of here, I’ll make sure you do.”

“Psst,” Faith said, leaning around the corner and waving at them urgently. Buffy stood and grabbed Angel’s hand, pulling him with her. He stood and followed the girls in confusion, balking slightly as they moved toward the area where the bedrooms were. The last thing he wanted, despite his macho talk, was to be thrown out for going in restricted areas of the ward.

“Come on,” Buffy whispered, tugging him with her. Helpless and curious to know what was up, he followed and was surprised when Faith dropped to one knee in front of an unmarked door. He raised an eyebrow at Buffy when he realized she was picking the lock. He didn’t have time to comment before Faith stood, opened the door triumphantly and waved them inside. Buffy pulled Angel in and he glanced back at Faith as she shut the door and locked them in, winking at him before the door closed her out.

“Buffy,” he whispered in the dark, able to see her clearly through the dim light flooding in through the cloudy window, “What are we doing in here?”

“I think you know,” Buffy whispered saucily as she pushed him back against the supply shelf. She rubbed her body against his and nipped at the flesh of his neck while he looked down at her in utter shock.

“Baby, don’t get me wrong,” Angel said, stumbling over his words, “You have no idea how badly I want to touch you, but what if we get caught in here?”

“Please,” Buffy whispered, grinding against his already evident arousal, “I need to feel you, need to know that you still want me.”

“In a supply closet?” Angel asked. Not that he hadn’t had sex in strange places, even more public ones and he wasn’t a prude in any sense of the word, but it seemed sacrilegious to take her here. She was the one woman who deserved to be made love to, who should have the finest things and the full attention of her lover, not a quick fuck in the janitor’s closet.

“Are you going to reject me?” Buffy asked quietly. The look on her face let him know that he could quite possibly ruin every bit of her emotional peace if he refused. It didn’t really matter anyway, because he couldn’t say no when she was pressed up against him, her tiny body flush against him, her hot breath on his neck and her belly pressing against his engorged groin. When he waited to answer, she reached down and traced his arousal with her fingertips, firmly applying pressure where he needed it most.

“Buffy, please,” Angel groaned, closing his eyes and moving his hips toward her fingers involuntarily.

“Want you,” she whispered after biting into his neck. She reached unbuttoned his shirt quickly and spread it open like a present, smiling at his muscled chest and abdomen which was taut as he struggled for control. She licked and kissed his newly bared skin and reached for the button of his pants, tugging at it until it gave and then releasing the zipper. “I miss the taste of you,” she continued as she pushed his pants down and then tugged his boxers as well, leaving him bared for her, “I miss the way you feel.”

He groaned as she stepped away and pulled her simple sundress off to reveal her completely naked body. It hadn’t occurred to him until they ducked in the closet why she had chosen to wear a dress that day.

“You’ve been walking around here nearly naked all day?” Angel growled angrily even as his body responded to hers and his hands reached out to pull her back into his embrace.

“Just changed before you got here,” she whispered back. “It’s not like-“

She didn’t have time to finish her sentence as his mouth descended on hers. She squirmed in want against his throbbing sex, reaching down to circle her little fingers around his shaft. Before she even had time to plead for him to make love to her, his hands were around her waist, lifting her off of the floor. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Turning them, he pressed her against the shelf he had been leaning on and reached between her thighs to test her arousal. He kissed her forcefully and sucked on her sweet tongue as he pressed a finger into her heat. Both groaned with the intrusion, welcoming the connection after so long apart. He wasted no time guiding himself into her slick core and she lolled her head back on the shelf as he fully sheathed inside her.

He had to force himself to slow his movements and prolong the pleasure even though this was supposed to be a quickie. He rocked slowly in and out of her, relishing in the feel of her skin against his and reminding himself of the little details he loved about her – how her body connected so perfectly with his as if she were tailored just for him, the texture of her skin, how soft and supple it was gliding underneath his hands and how light she was, as if it were nature’s way of telling him that his perfect little goddess could never be a burden.

He buried his face into the crook of her neck and laved the flesh were her shoulder met her neck and found himself repeating the same phrase over and over and over again, “I love you, Buffy. I love you.”

“Angel,” she whispered finally, interrupting his lament. She threaded her fingers through his hair when he looked up at her and she kissed him deeply and slowly, tightening her legs around his waist. “I love you too and I’m not going to try to leave you again. Not ever.”

“I don’t even know who the hell I am anymore,” he whispered against her mouth, “I don’t even want to know who I’d be if I lost you.”

“You’ll never find out,” she answered, biting his lower lip before soothing the bite with her tongue. He smiled broadly, filled with more hope and happiness than he had been allowed for weeks on end. She gasped as he caressed her breasts, gliding over them and teasing her nipples before he leaned in to taste them, trying to remember the last time he had felt the pleasure of her tight channel flexing around him as he suckled on one of her perfect erect nipples. Too damn long.

A lightness filled him as he heard her breath hitch and her movements change. He moved to the other nipple, focusing on slow, grinding thrusts that sent her over the edge. A cry escaped her and he quickly covered her mouth with his own, muffling her cry of pleasure as he too tipped over the edge.

***

TBC...

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