Summary: The third and final part in my Danger series. Buffy and Angel
finally say goodbye. Set in the future.
Spoilers: GD2.
Disclaimer: Joss made them. I just like to mess with their lives.
Rating: PG13
This one's for Mel, because she harassed me on the other two so much. <
g >
by: Amy
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Years had passed. Decades since they'd seen each other. And still, he could feel that she needed him, and she could feel that he was coming. Such was their love, their bond. She needed him, and so he would go to her.
To say goodbye, as he should have done years ago.
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Angel had been having the dreams for weeks, waking up each time panicked and looking for her. Day after day his hand would fall on a cold and empty pillow and the tears would come. He knew what they were telling him, what the dreams wanted. But he would try to deny it to himself.
He didn't want to accept it.
He would take walks every night. Long walks, walks that took him miles away from his apartment just to find himself walking back. He would look around the quiet, safe streets of the city and muse about it. He would smile, just a little and think, I helped that. Maybe I did redeem myself a little bit after all. I helped mankind.
And then his eyes would fade and he would realize that mankind wasn't all that was important. He would realize that he had given up his soul so long ago to a girl who's face still haunted him. He could remember it, line by line, every feature and curve of her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes, even though he hadn't seen her since that night.
They had talked on the phone twice, yes. And each time ended in heartbreak, her voice saying one thing, her heart silently calling him back to her. He would wish to go, wish more than anything to be the kind of man she deserved to love her, but he never could, he never was.
The last time they spoke, she actually *did* ask him to come back. Just once, she said, just once so that they could see each other again, kiss each other goodbye. He had to hold back tears when he told her no, when he told her that he loved her. She told him that she could still touch him in her sleep, and he knew how she felt, but he couldn't go to her. He just couldn't.
That was the last time he heard her voice. He kept regular contact with the others, but it wasn't the same. How could it be?
But now the dreams were there, beckoning him, and he knew he had to go and see her. Again. Finally.
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Buffy dreamed of him. In her dreams, she was the same age she had been when Angel had left her, and they would look and touch and she would see the smile that was all too rare from him. They would kiss.
And she knew he was coming for her.
She could always feel him, on the edge of her tired consciousness. When she went to sleep, she would feel him awaken and she would know that he was out looking at the stars and thinking of her. And, even though it had been years too many, she would think of him too. In her dreams, fantasies. She would remember that night they shared so, so long ago, the night that changed everything that she had ever known. But it was too long ago for bitterness. Now she could remember all of the special feelings she had once felt without any tears or pain.
There were still tears and pain, of course. But only about having missed so much. Only about having not been there with him, having not insisted on his staying with her throughout her long, successful life. They were wonderful together, she knew. Sweetly aching, touchingly sad. Perfection. Fate.
And she waited.
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He knocked lightly on the door and stood impatiently for someone to answer. When it finally opened, a smile of recognition lit his face and he pulled the greeter into a warm embrace.
"Willow!" he exclaimed, the word muffled in her hair. She pulled back from him and smiled, wondering how he recognized her. Angel finally met her eyes and took a long look at his old friend. The years had been kind to her. Her hair still had the tinge of flaming red, though the temples were streaked with silver, and she had grown up to be a beautiful woman, just like he had always known she would be. She smiled again, calmly and took his arm, leading him into what appeared to be a study.
Willow waved at him to sit down and he took the chair gratefully. She cleared her throat, tears already starting in her eyes.
"She told me you would come, you know," she started. Willow dipped her eyes in shame. "I wasn't sure I believed her, but these last few days, she insisted on it so... passionately, that I wondered." Again, she graced him with her smile. "I'm glad you came, Angel. So very glad. I suppose that you know that..."
Angel interrupted her, not wanting to hear her last words. "Yes. I know, I knew the moment it started." His eyes looked up into hers and pleaded with her to understand. "I wanted to come back before this, Willow. I did. For everything that I missed, with all of you. For Giles's funeral a few years ago, for your wedding. But mostly for Buffy. And that was just the reason I couldn't."
Willow stepped over to him, kneeling at his feet. She took his hand and rubbed it gently. "I know, Angel. I accept it. So has Buffy, for so long. And, so you know, she's been content for the most part. Not happy, not as happy as she could have been, but content." She looked searchingly at his face. "It's *okay*, it really is. She's never really been without you, you know. She would often say that she could feel you somewhere, sometimes when you were thinking about her. Everyone believed in everything that you had."
Standing up, she blinked back a few stray tears. "Go to her, all right? Be with her once more, before... Just be with her. Tell her you love her, she needs to hear it a last time." Leaning down, she kissed his forehead sweetly, her eyes closed against the pain of this goodbye. "I'm going to go and see my husband and give him a kiss and leave you two alone."
Angel nodded and smiled gently. As she turned away, he stood and embraced her again, tightening his arms around the girl who he had known, the woman she had become, the friend who had never judged him. "I love you, my friend. Thank you for... everything."
She made a soft sobbing sound and hugged him back. "I love you, too, Angel. Never forget that there were those of us who did. Especially her. Never forget her."
She stepped back and took his hand lingeringly. "I won't," he promised softly. "I couldn't."
Lifting her head in agreement, she gave a sad laugh. "It *would* be rather impossible, wouldn't it?"
And then she was gone, and Angel was left alone in the large house. Not truly alone, though, for he could hear her calling to him. It was small and weak, but her voice was there, searching for him, claiming him as hers.
He followed it up the stairs, through the darkened hallway and to the door at the end of it. His hand shook as he took the knob and he breathed in a deep, unnecessary breath before pushing it open.
And Buffy was there.
His eyes widened with love as she rested in the bed that was sure to hold her last moments. She looked up, gentle and serene and he tried to focus on how she had changed, except that... She really hadn't. She was older, yes, and her shining blond hair was touched with gray. Her face wasn't as smooth or as tan as it had been when he had last seen her. Her body looked smaller, much more frail.
But her eyes still shined. That beautiful glitter that he had stayed awake so many days thinking about. The blue of the orbs caressed his face as he walked closer and he trembled, sitting down next to her on her mattress. He took her hand, which was once gentle and calloused at the same time and was now simply soft.
"Angel," she breathed, her eyes lighting on his face. He was just the same, always the same, and she loved him still for it. His eyes were sad, dark and hurting, his face unblemished. But she could feel how much he loved her, because her blood had stayed in his veins.
He let a few tears fall and he lowered his head to her chest. "Yes, my love," he murmured, listening to her heartbeat. "I'm so sorry, Buffy."
She shushed him. "Don't be. You were always my angel. You came just when it was needed, not just by me but by both of us, everything we were."
"Still are," he swore.
Buffy gave a short laugh, her eyes twinkling. "Thank you. You know, I had hoped that... Well, that the Hellmouth was going to grant me immortality eventually, or you mortality again, but I guess that's not in the cards."
He couldn't laugh with her. "I wish it were," he said, the tears coming faster. "I wish that there was a way for us, I wish that we didn't have to be alone for so long. I wish that we had gotten more than one unforgettable night."
"But, Angel," she broke in, still smiling. "That's the point of unforgettable. And, anyway, all of my nights with you were unforgettable." She paused. "Though, if you want to narrow it down, I'm sure we could think of one more."
His chest constricted. "I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly. "For that, for everything."
"Will you *ever* listen to me, Lover?" she chastised, her eyes misting. "I said unforgettable, well actually you did, but not bad. Not at all. Don't you know that the night I gave you my blood is one of my greatest memories?"
"Memories," he muttered regretfully. "That's all I gave you."
Buffy allowed herself to cry then, clasping his face in her hands. "Beautiful ones, Angel. Beautiful memories. Perfect memories, that I wouldn't be willing to trade for my entire life. I love you, Angel."
"I love you too. I always will," he answered back, without hesitation. He leaned down swiftly and caught her soft lips in a kiss, letting their tears mingle as they always had before. She tasted the salt of them and deepened the kiss until his mouth was all she could taste. His hands covered her hair and she sobbed into the kiss, missing him, loving him, wanting all that they had never gotten together.
And, for the last time, Buffy's heart spoke to his. Angel heard it clearly, like it had been yesterday that the connection was formed.
"You were always right, Angel. I missed it, I hated it all my life, but you were right. It was too dangerous, our love. It was too glorious to be safe. That's what we were together. Pure glory," her heart sang.
He nodded into the kiss their hearts, souls and bodies one again, like it always should have been. Finally they broke the kiss and he leaned his forehead onto hers to stare into her eyes. "Stay with me? Stay the night?"
"Yes," he confirmed, not wanting to deny her anything now that he was back in her arms at last. "Yes, always."
"Forever is the whole point, isn't it?" she asked quietly. Understanding and not understanding at the same time, he nodded and stretched out comfortably beside her, stroking her hair softly with his palm.
They talked on through the night, sometimes murmuring things of love that made no sense to anything but them, sometimes chatting about what had been happening in their lives since the separation.
He was with her as she proclaimed her love for him the last time. He was with her as her heart tensed. She was with him when it stopped.
And Angel wept, but as he watched the sun come up and shine through the window, he only felt regret that they couldn't have claimed what belonged to them sooner. Immortality was now denied, to both of them, and as he finally got to see Buffy bathed in sunlight, he hurt no more.
His soul let go, and he could feel her heart doing the same.
And the danger of their love was gone, peacefully. Fading into the night with the shadows, where it belonged.
The End