"Pleasantly Numb "

Author: Amy
Contact: Slvrbttn@aol.com
Notes: This is a bit complicated... But hopefully, easy to figure out. The story goes like this. Angel's pov, Buffy's, someone else, ect... For the first three parts. And then it's Angel's and Buffy's, and third person. ~ ~ ~ denotes a change in point of view, and * denotes a simple change in scene. It takes place in I Will Remember You, and then breaks off from there. Hope you like! :)

"You do not understand, do you?" She asked, bored of explaining.

He shook his head, sighing. "No. I'm sorry."

Her brother's mouth curved up. "Yes, a sorry creature, with either too much love to understand, or too little to *want* to understand."

Angel pursed his lips, annoyed. "You've never felt the kind of love I've had for Buffy."

"Yes we have, Dear One," the female said, her eyes growing soft and kind. "It is why we orchestrated this meeting. There are many reasons we did what we did, the most basic of them being that there has never been a love like you two share. Tragic loves, yes. Most love has tragedy in them. It is how the love is tested to be true. But a Slayer, loving a vampire. A vampire loving a Slayer, for that matter! More impossible than Romeo and Juliet."

"Romeo and Juliet weren't real," Angel pointed out, suddenly angry with them-- a vampire angry with the Powers That Be was a little mind boggling, but true.

"Of course they were!" the male laughed. "Oh, not the ones that Shakespeare wrote of. But there have been many Romeo's, who loved many Juliet's, upon many of the years. A forbidden love. And still none so forbidden as you and your Slayer. It fascinated us so."

"So, what?" Angel stared at them blankly. "I'm dead because I fascinate you? What, does it fascinate you more to leave Buffy without me, to watch her mourn me? Do you like that because you have no human hearts?" he demanded harshly.

The woman stared at him coolly. "As I was saying, we have felt your love. For each other. Wonderful feeling, that love. It makes one feel as though they are panicking and flying and swallowing something sweet at the same time." She smiled gently. "You are not here because we wish to see her mourn...."

Her brother shared her smile, finished her sentence. "You are here because we wish to see her rejoice."

Her eyes were glazed over, staring at him. She couldn't pull her gaze away. There was something in his form, something hidden in him-- in herself-- that she couldn't see, didn't understand. Her hand crept to his face, through his hair. Then it slid down to his inflamed wound, touching it lightly. Her palm stilled on his chest, right over his heart, where the beating would be if he had ever been...

A shocked gasp escaped her mouth. Tears spilled from her eyes, tears that she didn't even *want* to conceal. Her mouth sagged open.

If he had ever been human.

The floodgates were opened, memories poured into her mind and heart like a refreshing rain after years of drought. She bit her lip, a smile breaking over her face. Emotions rushed through her, bubbling, like a bottle of uncorked champagne. Confusing and beautiful, and sweet and sad. She knew was he was trying to tell her before he died. She *knew*.

A knock came softly, and Willow stuck her head in hesitantly. Buffy smiled over at her, welcoming her friend in.

Willow looked at her in bewilderment, then shook her head. "The reason he's not dust is because of the particular kind of poison used on the dart. It's a still-living form of death for a vampire. Called, well, Living Death. An eternal limbo, I suppose."

"What does that mean?"

"It means..." Willow sighed, and broke contact with Buffy's gaze. "If he was human, right now I'd be telling you that he'd never wake up. A coma that he would never ever come out of. The book says that the poison makes the vampire's mind flee his body. There's... There's no hope, Buffy. No cure. I'm sorry."

"I understand, Will." She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks for letting me know."

Willow nodded and ducked out again, leaving Buffy with Angel.

Buffy bit her lip, gathering her strength and courage and love for him, and started what she wanted to say, leaning close to him, so close that she could feel the warmth of her breath against her own mouth as she spoke softly into his ear.

"I really remember now, Angel... I really remember. I was lying before, lying that I remembered, even though I knew that the words were right, but I understand it all now," she breathed. "It was a perfect day. I don't know whether to love you for giving that day to me, or be annoyed that you kept me from remembering."

A smile lifted her mouth, gentle and warm. "You were always keeping things from me. I could never stay mad. ...I don't know how we fell in love, Angel, but I'm just so... *grateful* for it. I can't even describe..." Buffy paused, swallowing. "And that day and night, when I got to hear your heart, feel it beating against my palm, touch you and know that you were warm because you were alive... It was beautiful to know. I don't know how I survived all these years without knowing. I guess you were always smarter than me when it came to things like that. Maybe I wouldn't have been able to handle it after all, maybe you were right."

Her hand stroked his chest lovingly. "It's okay, now. I understand everything. I like to think... Well, that doesn't matter now. I know you can't hear me, not really, but I think I'm hoping that somewhere, my words are reaching you. Maybe all the way from Heaven, you can hear me. Will you be there when I die, Angel?"

His chest lifted.

Buffy started, shocked. She stared at his chest, for a moment, watched it rise and fall. Her hand stilled. It was faint. It was incredibly faint, and weak.

But it was there.

A heartbeat.

Angel sucked in more air, then exhaled sharply. "I'll be there, when you die. But until then, I'll be here, with you," he muttered weakly, his eyes opening sleepily.

Buffy shrieked loudly, until her breath was all gone. Then she inhaled deeply, and shrieked again. "Angel?!"

She vaguely heard things being knocked over, crashing to the ground in the next room. The door was shoved open, banging into the wall. Giles, Xander and Willow stood there, concerned and ready for war.

They relaxed when they saw what was happening. Xander and Willow started forward, ready to burn the excitement with them, but Giles gently caught their arms and led them from the room, closing the door behind them with a knowing look.

As Angel struggled to sit up, Buffy's eyes fastened on his wound. It was almost completely healed. Her eyes darted back to his, to that sweet color that was real and alive and looking at her. Not just a dream. Not this time. "How?" she asked, laughing and crying at the same time.

He opened his mouth, cleared his throat. Then his lips curved up deliciously, warmly. "I met the Powers," he started to explain. He stopped for a moment, looking at Buffy seriously. Her eyes grew large and worried under his scrutiny. Finally he reached out and pulled her to him, holding her close, smelling the scent of her skin; like vanilla and soap and flowers all at once. Buffy smiled in his arms, snuggled closer, and waited.

"Anyway," he continued. "The Powers were like the Oracles, only..."

"More powerful?" Buffy suggested.

"Yeah," he agreed. His arms tightened around her. "A male and a female. Beautiful creatures... I've never seen anything like them. Except for you. They explained it all to me."

"Which was?" she encouraged.

"It was you," Angel said softly. "You were beautiful to Them. When we were together, it was something they had never seen before." He smiled. "You fascinated them."

"I did?" He could hear the blush in her voice. Then she paused, pulled away from him. "Wait a minute. You were dead not five minutes ago, and now you're sitting up and talking to me! You don't even sound sick," she accused.

Angel grinned. "I was getting to that. There are certain stipulations to me being a human."

"Like what?"

"Like..." He winced. "I seem to have the strength of a Slayer."

"You what?!" Her eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"I know," he agreed. "They told me that I would be the male version of a Slayer. Not that I mind, really."

"Angel!" she cried, "This is good, right?"

His gaze locked with hers. "It's good."

"So, finish! Explain the rest."

"Oh, the human part?" he asked. Buffy nodded. "Well, apparently, They hadn't seen anything like us... In the history of Earth. A special love." He leaned forward, resting a light kiss on her lips. "Pure, and perfect, and full of hopes and dreams, but no expectations. The way love was intended to be, except that it was with a vampire and a Slayer. And so They gave us a chance. And another chance. But Their chances always had drawbacks. The loss of my soul, Acathla, me being too weak as a human to protect anyone. So They decided to give us a chance, a solid chance. I'm human, Buffy. Apparently, they orchestrated the whole thing..."

Buffy's eyes were wet. "Angel," she whimpered.

His smile fell a notch, compassion spilled over his face. He touched her tears, her wet eyelashes. "Hey... Don't cry..."

"It feels good to cry," she whispered, drinking him in with her eyes. "For so long, I've felt like I was walking around in my sleep. That day... The day that never really happened, it was sort of a dream that I kept close to my heart. And I lived in it, I closed myself off to really feeling anything else, feeling anything that deeply again. Because I loved you so much, because of the perfection of that day, nothing else would ever compare. And I decided... If I couldn't love you, I wasn't going to love anything." Her hand drifted over his face, over the features that she knew by heart, tenderly. "You've been all that matters to me. I couldn't try to find a love like ours, because I knew it wasn't possible... I didn't let myself feel anything, and now I do," she wept, "And if feels wonderful."

Angel pulled her into his arms. Her breasts crushed against his chest, her legs straddled his. Intimate, the illusion of closeness, they lay there like that for a long time. The kisses were soft, loving, grateful at first, but soon grew longer, deeper, closer. Buffy moved up on his lap, winding her hands around his neck, pressing on the base of his skull, holding him closer. Angel's hands gripped handfuls of her shirt.

Buffy pulled away from his kiss long enough to let him slide the shirt off of her her bra. Then she leaned back in, kissing him, feeling the pressure of his lips on hers, hot and liquid and wanting. Her hands quickly undid Angel's pants, and she smiled against his mouth at hearing the whisper, the soft hiss, of clothes being removed. Angel set his hands on her breasts, hot palms against the hot skin, and Buffy moaned quietly.

She lifted up, not breaking contact with his mouth, to impatiently pull off her panties. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist. Throwing the bit of satin aside, she straddled him again, positioning herself. Angel groaned as he slid into her hot, slick channel.

"Buffy?"

She grunted, grinding herself against him. His hands rested on her hips, urging her along.

"I love you."

Buffy's frantic movements slowed, as did Angel's. They paused for a moment in their love-making, looking each other in the eyes. Buffy smiled at length, then leaned forward to kiss him again. Her voice was a whisper. "I love you, too. Of course I do."

They began again, a little slower this time. Angel lifted up to fill her further, and Buffy moved her hips in a slow circle. Tears fell off her lashes. "The cool blue scene," she breathed.

Angel was confused, but somehow he knew what she meant, so he simply nodded, guiding her up and down, his hands squeezing her hips. Buffy's movements sped up again, and she clutched the sheet, raked her fingernails along Angel's chest, stiffened her spine. She let out a long, feline cry, a sound that pushed Angel over the edge. He groaned loudly, bit his lip, his fingers squeezing into the flesh of her hips, holding onto her tightly as he spilled inside of her. Buffy's inner muscles clutched at him, and the pleasure went on and on, seemingly endless, until Buffy limply fell onto his chest, her hair sweaty, sticking to his skin.

Angel laid calmly like that, stroking her back, still inside of her. Intimate, close, in a secret sort of way. Silent and beautiful.

Finally, she pulled herself off of him, stretched luxuriously. She leaned up to kiss him again, then paused, mid-kiss, horrified.

"What?" Angel asked in concern.

"They're still out there," she whispered, her eyes large.

He was baffled. "Who? Where?"

She looked at him meaningfully. "Willow! Xander! Giles!"

Angel's mouth fell open slightly, and then he was shaking with laughter. He held onto her shoulders, then hugged her warmly. "I'm sure they thought I was just dying again."

Buffy slapped his arm. "That's not funny."

"Okay," he consented, gently. "Lets get up and dressed, and go out there. We weren't very loud, you know."

Her face flamed red. "Okay," she mumbled.

Hurriedly, they dressed, exchanging quick glances. Buffy's face was happy, albeit a bit mortified. Angel's was simply amused. When they had all their clothes on, they slipped out of the door, Angel's arm slung over her shoulder.

Willow, Xander, and Giles were nowhere to be found.

"Uh, hello?" Buffy called uncertainly.

"There's a note," Angel pointed out, "On the kitchen table."

They lifted it up, and Buffy read aloud, "Buffy, Angel. You appeared to be otherwise engaged, so Willow, Xander and I have gone out in search of somewhere to eat. We thought it'd be best to leave you two alone so that you could grasp this situation, and deal with it in whatever way you saw fit. Fondly, Giles."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "They know."

"Of course they know," Angel agreed lightly. He gave her a squeeze. "Do you really think they minded?"

Buffy hesitated. "I suppose not." She smiled, the humor of the situation finally catching up to her.

Angel spun her around until she was facing him, and he looked at her seriously. "Well, for now, there's an unoccupied table..." he offered wickedly.

Buffy giggled. "We're going to break it," she warned.

"I'll buy a new one," he said quickly.

They shared a kiss. Buffy slipped her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly. "Angel?"

"What?"

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Another kiss, longer this time, filled the next few minutes. When Buffy pulled away, she smiled, breathless, ready to answer his question. Her voice was soft.

"For making me feel."

The End

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