"The Xander Zone"

Author: Gia
Email: gia@everysixseconds.com
Pairing: Initially B/Other, ultimately B/A. (Trust me!)
Notes: Irian Jaya is part of Indonesia, one of the last wilderness areas. Due to the violence and guerilla fighting in the area, permits are required from local police stations for travel in many areas. For more info: http://www.lonelyplanet.com/destinations/south_east_asia/indonesia/obt.htm.

Present, Angel Investigations…

The video started much like the first one, the person carrying the camera obviously following several feet behind the guy now known to everyone at Angel Investigations as ‘X'. The camera panned over his tall, muscular form – stopping briefly at the triple x's tattooed on the back of his neck before Xander turned to face the camera. There, the similarity to the earlier video largely ended; instead of a wooded area, they were in what appeared to be a large abandoned warehouse. X himself was dressed as if he had been going out somewhere, a nightclub perhaps or a nice dinner. He was wearing a tight, white tank beneath an unbuttoned, short-sleeve black silk shirt that hung open over a pair of snug, well-fitting black slacks.

"The word on the street is that an Isalina demon has made this warehouse his home."

The hushed, rumbling voice was recognizable from the previous videos as the narrative began, Xander glancing back to talk to the camera, his profile deliberately blurred. Abruptly the shot panned away, zooming to a dark corner at the far end of the building. The muffled wheezing of the camera operator's breath was the only audible sound as X came back into view from the right side of the frame. As he walked cautiously toward the dark corner, the person holding the camera used the zoom lens to follow along.

The video slowly panned left and gradually a woman with blond hair came into view. Angel recognized her instantly. Buffy. She was far enough in the distance ahead that she was fully in the frame as she approached the dark corner. She paused, still and wary, looking around before turning toward X who was walking toward her with slow, measured steps. Even with her face blurred on the video, it was apparent that she was talking to the man with her. Angel strained to hear her voice but nothing came through on the audio. She was either too far from the camera, not wearing a microphone or both.

The camera operator once more began moving, drawing steadily closer to the pair that now appeared to be examining something in the dark ahead of them. Buffy turned suddenly, facing the camera squarely for several seconds, her hands in front of her, poised and ready to face an attacker. It was a familiar stance; Angel had seen it often enough years ago when they sparred or patrolled together. Looking somewhere behind the camera, she seemed unaware of the lens panning over her, pausing infinitesimally and zooming ever so slightly at her breasts before she relaxed her pose and turned back toward X.

Angel tensed, the muscles in his shoulders and back tightening. Stopping the video, he reversed it and replayed that short section again, carefully scrutinizing his former girlfriend's appearance. Buffy was wearing a pale pink string-back halter style top, the v-neck cut low enough to reveal a glimpse of cleavage. The short black skirt barely reached mid-thigh, leaving a significant portion of her lean, tan and bare legs exposed. On her feet, she wore a pair of very high-heeled sandals with delicate straps. Her golden blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders in long waves. Her appearance confirmed what he had already expected; the pair had obviously been on their way out somewhere when they had apparently been interrupted for the demon hunt. The tall vampire snorted slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. Of course a showboat like this X would take his camera crew along with him wherever he went; he wouldn't want to miss an opportunity for self-aggrandizement. The thought suddenly crept into the back of his mind that if X videotaped his demon hunting he might also be inclined to film other activities… more personal ones. Would Buffy-? Had they-?

"Oh my God, are those Jimmy Choo's?! Stop. Stop! Go back," Cordelia blurting suddenly, sitting forward and grabbing Angel by the arm. She pointed to the screen just as Angel clicked the mouse to start the video playing again. More out of reflex than obedience to her command, Angel reached forward to hit the button to stop the video as he glanced curiously at the brunette sitting next to him. "Well, my hell. They are. Barney's had those for $740 bucks! How on earth did Buffy manage to afford them? She must be charging-"

"Cordelia…" Angel warned softly, stopping the brunette seer before she could say anymore. His patience was worn thin, his nerves already on edge, and he wasn't sure he could put up with Cordelia's lack of tact when it came to Buffy.

"What?" Cordelia muttered brusquely, sitting back in her chair with a pout. "I wanted a pair of those, but did I get them? No… Buffy gets everything; the hot guy and the cool shoes. It's just not fair. Obviously you aren't paying me nearly enough."

Struggling to control the fit of temper that was threatening to erupt, the dark haired vampire gaped at the seer as if she had grown two heads. He had to admit, he rarely, if ever, understood how her mind worked, and this minute was clearly no exception. Unable to formulate a response, he dismissed her with a confused look and turned back to the screen. With a couple of clicks of the mouse, he started the video playing again. He was working hard to keep the thought out of his head that there might be other, intimate, Buffy and X videos somewhere.

Behind Angel, Gunn and Fred exchanged questioning looks while Wes simply shrugged and watched the video with the interest of an academic.

On the screen, Buffy advanced forward, X close on her heels as they moved further into the dark. In one hand she held a stake, her usual weapon. When the squat demon came out of nowhere and lunged at the blonde Slayer with surprising agility, Angel almost flinched. Buffy, however, countered the blow expertly with her right arm then whirled around and landed a kick squarely to the demon's chest that sent it sprawling to the ground. Her skirt rode up during the maneuver, providing a glimpse of her almost naked behind, and Angel was unable to control the growl that escaped his lips.

At the small sound, Cordelia glanced over out of the corner of her eye. She had to admit she was enjoying watching the almost unflappable vampire squirm. It was also no surprise to her that Angel obviously still had strong feelings for the Slayer. More than once she had come across pictures tucked discreetly between the pages of a book he happened to be reading or sketches that he had carefully drawn. As private and close mouthed as he tended to be, there were still certain things that were obvious to his friends.

"Her technique is flawless," Wes commented with admiration in his voice, "better than ever, if that's possible. She is, in my evaluation, clearly one of the best Slayers on record."

"She's damn good, that's for sure." Gunn agreed with a nod.

On the video, the fight continued, the demon coming to its feet with a nimbleness that was surprising.

"She's taking too many chances. And he's not helping." Angel growled, watching as Buffy attacked the demon with a series of aggressive punches and kicks, driving it back into the recesses of the dark warehouse. Nearby X stood and watched, as if waiting for the opportunity to help.

With a sudden burst of speed, the demon lunged forward again, finally blocking one of the many punches that Buffy threw before managing to bend and seize her around the waist with a pair of beefy arms. Lifting her off the ground, the Isalina demon squeezed as Buffy kicked and squirmed for release. Behind them, X moved forward and approached the demon with his arms raised, prepared to land a hard blow to the back of the creature's neck. When the staggering blow landed, the demon flung the petite blonde aside with a snarl and whirled around to face its new assailant.

Angel watched anxiously as Buffy tumbled to the ground, slamming hard into a low wall before rolling and rising to her feet in one smooth motion. She dusted her clothes off with a grimace before moving back to the fray with determination.

"Uh, flawless, Wes?" Cordelia said jokingly even though she too cringed at the fall the Slayer at had taken. "You want to reconsider that?"

"No, I stand by my statement, Cordelia. Even as she was thrown to the grown with force, did you notice how she was able to tuck and roll, thus minimizing the impact to the body? And how quickly she was able to get back on her feet?" The former Watcher insisted drawing on knowledge accrued through years of studying various training techniques. Rarely had there ever been an opportunity to study a Slayer in action; he personally knew of only a few videotapes and those were training sessions – not live action slayage. This was an opportunity not to be missed. The Watcher's Council would be interested in the footage; that he was certain. He was also certain, however, that he would not be the one providing it to them as his ties to the Council – and any allegiance he felt for them - had been severed.

The camera zoomed in briefly on the Slayer, focusing briefly on the tattoo that was clearly visible across her lower back. It was the same tattoo that they had noticed in the earlier video, only this time there was a slightly clearer shot. Stopping the video, Angel squinted curiously at the intricate design. What was it?

"Told her that damn tattoo wasn't the best idea," Spike's voice came from behind him, the younger vampire now conscious again and watching both Angel and the video intently. "Who gets angel wings with a broken heart anyway?"

Everyone turned to glance at Spike, including Angel, who, judging by his expression, was clearly less than pleased with the added commentary.

"What?" The blond vampire shrugged unapologetically, "It's a little obvious, that's all I'm saying. She might as well have just got ‘Angel broke my heart' in big block lettering and been done with it."

Gunn and Fred turned to Angel, waiting for his reply. Cordelia grimaced and glanced at Wes.

"It's the damn truth," Spike added as he struggled vainly against the ropes that held him to the chair. After several seconds, he gave up his attempt to escape and simply scooted the chair with small bouncing steps to the right, giving him a better view of the computer screen. "Well, let's have a look at rest of it then," he said, nodding his head toward the paused video and giving Angel a challenging look. "You're the one making me stay here. Untie me, and I'll be on my way or start the damn video."

Refusing to be baited into an argument, and yet still curious about the rest of the video, Angel turned back around. He studied the tattoo for a few more seconds before he clicked the mouse and started the video playing once again. On screen, Buffy knocked the demon back into X who managed to grab the demon by the head. With a quick twist of his arms, he snapped the creature's neck and the Isalina demon crumpled to the ground in a heap.

As the AI team watched, X, panting slightly, brushed his hands off on his pants. He smiled just as Buffy, with a graceful, springing step, jumped over the demon's body and up into X's arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.

Angel gaped at the screen. He ground his teeth together, clenching his jaw. That was his move. His. He couldn't suppress the surge of jealous anger or the petulant resentment that washed over him as the coupled kissed. Buffy had jumped into his arms exactly that way once, years ago at the Bronze… the memory was clear and vivid.

"Nice move," Spike cheerfully declared, seizing the opportunity to annoy his already agitated Sire even more. "Not the demon neck snap thing, we've all done that one a time or two. I meant that little thing she did there with that jump." The blond vampire nodded at the screen. "Rewind that, would ya? I want to see that bit again."

"That was kinda neat," Fred agreed with a sheepish smile, glancing at Gunn.

Angel closed his eyes, willing away the image in front of him. Seeing Buffy with someone else was harder than he had ever imagined it would be.

"Fine, don't show that again. This is just his good. Are his hands-? Yes, indeed, they are under her skirt." The younger vampire continued pointedly, his tone deliberately provoking. "But then, you know that they say about slaying - besides making ‘em partially suicidal, you can always count on hungry and horny." Pausing, he grinned. "Of course, everything increases apace. Did you know - it's a fact that the older they get, the more chances they'll take? And sexually…" Spike gave a low wolf whistle as he nodded toward the screen where Buffy and X were still kissing, "they get more demanding." With a leer, he added, "And if that doesn't just make you feel all hot in bothered in all the right places… Well, then I don't know what does."

Angel's eyes snapped open just in time to see X hold up a hand in front of the camera. Breaking off their kiss, he snapped something at the person filming. Immediately the scene faded to black, then the triple-X tattoo appeared on the screen along with a few simple credits.

Placing his palms flat on the desk, one on either side of the computer, Angel simply glared at the screen. He was willing away the image of Buffy and X, but it stubbornly refused to be so easily dismissed from his thoughts.

"How would you know?" Cordelia asked, her curiosity getting the better of her as she glanced behind her at Spike. "About slayers and all that…"

"I may have had a taste." Spike murmured as he glanced meaningfully toward the screen.

"A taste? You're saying that you and Buffy…?" The brunette questioned skeptically, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifting in disbelief.

"Yeah, pet, me and Buffy. The Slayer. Angel's ex." Spike said with a smirk.

"Now I know that she doesn't exactly have the best taste because well, Scott, and did anyone else find Ford more that just a little creepy? And I also know that her taste in the past has tended to run to the undead but…" Cordelia trailed off, feeling the heat of Angel's stare as he turned his gaze toward her. With a small self-conscious shrug, she finished, "I still find that hard to believe."

"So do I." Angel fairly growled in agreement, turning around to pin the younger vampire with his gaze.

"Okay, so maybe it wasn't anything yet, but it would've been. I had a shot, no doubt about it." Spike's blue eyes were cold as he stared back at Angel. "Girl needed a real man to comfort her after clawing her way out of the grave. Especially seeing as she didn't get any of that from anyone she knew."

Angel mentally flinched, recalling the intense conversation he and Buffy had shared at the sheltered beach cove between Sunnydale and LA just after her resurrection. To say that hadn't gone all that well would have been an understatement.

"Then why on earth did you think that would be you?" Cordelia snorted, unaware of Angel's discomfiture. She had known that he had gone to see Buffy, but he never talked about what had happened at that meeting despite her frequent prodding and less than subtle attempts to find out.

"There's a few dozen reasons, pet. Untie me and I'll be glad to give you a demonstration. I doubt you're getting any from anyone around here anyway…" Spike's eyes drifted over Cordelia suggestively, pausing deliberately at the bit of cleavage visible above her low cut shirt. "It's a good look for you, by the way. Bigger tits suit your frame. Is that part of the standard LA health plan or something? Just curious, is all. I've noticed it's sort of a standard look here."

Crossing her arms self-consciously over her chest, which had, in fact, been surgically enhanced after her move to Los Angeles, Cordelia glared at the vampire. Her curiosity, however, was not in the least bit curtailed by the rude comments. "You're saying that you and Buffy had sex?"

"Well, no…" Spike admitted reluctantly. Noticing Angel's tense posture, he couldn't resist adding matter-of-factly, "But we would've eventually if big man X there hadn't come along." He shrugged slightly, his movement largely curtailed by the ropes binding him to the chair, "Course, it's a small comfort to know that I lost her to a real man instead of some idiot nancy boy with a fondness for too much hair gel."

"Then how do you know that about Slayers – the hungry, horny, demanding and I can't even believe I'm asking this question…" The brunette seer trailed off, shaking her head as if she didn't understand what had provoked her to even ask the question. She held up her hand in a ‘stop' gesture. "Never mind."

Spike grinned in response, jerking his head toward Wesley. "Ask him. He knows."

Angel whirled around abruptly, his piercing dark eyes landing immediately on the object of Spike's announcement.

Wes froze in his spot, obviously startled by the near accusation. Gunn winked and grinned, giving the former Watcher a nudge with his elbow while Cordelia and Fred looked on with surprised eyes.

Wesley cleared his throat as Angel continued to pin him with an accusing glare. The vampire's eyebrows lifted questioningly.

Clearing his throat again, the former Watcher spoke up, "I wouldn't… that is… I didn't… I don't…" Pausing, Wes inhaled deeply and collected his thoughts. "I don't have any personal experience here, if that's what you're thinking."

Angel's gaze swung back to Spike.

"I read it in one of their bleedin' Watcher's journals. They've got all these nice little subtleties about Slayers written down there." The blond vampire countered defensively. He turned to Wes, "Isn't that right?"

Angel's gaze returned to Wesley's face.

"Well, um…yes. Of course." Wes stammered slightly, uncertain of how exactly to answer.

"Well, go and get one of the damned books then. Show the poof so he can read it for himself," Spike insisted with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "It really is a good read. Enough stuff in there to give a guy – or demon - ideas." At Fred's startled glanced, he amended with a suggestive lift of his eyebrows, "Well, about that, but also about killing Slayers and torture and such. Did you know it's a documented fact – in the journal there – that Slayers tend to have heightened sensitivities to both pain and pleasure during certain times of the month?" His blue eyes returning to Angel's face, he grinned leeringly, "Now tell me that doesn't give you some delicious thoughts. My mouth waters just to think on it."

"Spike-" Angel ground out in warning.

"Oh. My. God. Are you talking about… Ewww." Cordelia said, her features contorting into an expression of half surprise and half disgust. "You didn't say… Just ew. I don't even want to… Ew." She shook her head and shoulders, as if trying to clear the thought out of her mind.

"Oh, no need to get all prissy and uptight there. I'll bet…" Spike paused and glanced at Cordelia before he amended meaningfully, "No, I know Angel had more than a taste of little Buff back in the day…" Licking his lips, he prodded, "How about it, Angel? Good, eh?"

Angel closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, fighting long buried memories as well as current emotions for some semblance of control. He should have realized that Spike would have known about that, what with their enhanced vampiric senses.

Wes stared at him curiously, obviously intrigued by the newly revealed information. Gunn was making a face that looked like he might be sick at any second while Fred blushed furiously.

With a look of disgust, the brunette seer put her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear another word about… that. Ever."

"Suit yourself." Spike said dismissively, jerking his head down toward his jacket pocket. "If you would… I could use a smoke."

"No." Cordelia replied brusquely, still squicked by the tidbit of information that had apparently just been revealed about her employer and his ex. She had to assume from Angel's reaction that Spike was telling the truth; of course she had known that Buffy and Angel had been intimate, but she had no idea that that kind of thing went on.

"How about you, love? Care to give a fellow a hand?" Spike turned his blue eyes to Fred and gave her a flirtatious smile.

"No." Gunn answered, moving the petite brunette behind him protectively.

"Well now, it's not like I'm going anywhere now is it?" The blond vampire grumbled in irritation. "I don't even know why I came here now… oh yeah, to tell the poof about his competition… Done that. I'm sobered up now. Learned my lesson not to come here again and all that, so you can just untie me and I'll be on my way."

"Tell me again why we don't just stake him?" Cordelia muttered irritably.

With a dismissive shrug, Wesley replied, "He's chipped. Harmless. According to Mr. Giles, he's actually been helpful in Sunnydale."

"Harmless? Harmless?! I'll have you know I can kick demon ass with the best of them. Better than the best of them actually." Spike spat indignantly.

"The best? You?" Cordelia sniped back. "Like you could."

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, Angel tuned out the bickering that continued. His attention returned to the video that he had just seen; mentally replaying parts of it, he had to admit Spike was right. Buffy was taking chances. More chances than he thought necessary. It wasn't a question of her ability; that he never doubted. She had always been strong and capable, intrinsically gifted when it came to her instincts and physical skills. But now… now he thought there was a reckless abandon to her fighting that he hadn't seen before, and it worried him.

One month earlier…

"I'm sorry we never made it to The Knitting Factory last night." X said as they sped along the Santa Monica Freeway in Los Angeles.

"It's okay. Better than okay actually." Buffy said as she glanced over at Xander from her position in the passenger's seat of the Pontiac GTO. "While the demon hunt was a bit unplanned, I have no complaints about how we spent the night. And most of the morning." With a smile, she leaned over and kissed him.

"Yeah?" Xander grinned as they exited the freeway toward Venice beach. They exchanged playful banter as they drove though the increasingly congested neighborhood streets until they reached the building with the sign that read "Last Rites Tattoo". There was an inordinate amount of traffic parked in front, along with people lining the streets and attempting to peer casually in the windows despite the large man standing, blocking the door. Taking in the scene, X drove around back and parked in the carport behind Indie's covered Mercedes SLK.

"You seem a little familiar with the place." Buffy noted, curious for the first time about the relationship between X and Indie. She had seen a casual familiarity between them before, but now she wondered if there was something more to it.

"I've been here a few times. I stayed here a few times too. It was after Yelena left, and I was back in LA." Xander said candidly as he retrieved the hidden key to the back door from over the outdoor light. "We had a thing, briefly. She made me laugh, and I tried to return the favor. It was a time when neither of us had much to laugh about. There wasn't much more to it than that, though we've managed to stay friends over the years since."

"Oh." Buffy said after a moment, digesting the bit of information.

Xander waited, wanting more of a confirmation that Buffy was okay with what he had just told her. "We can go somewhere else if you want…"

"No, no." Buffy replied quickly, looking up into his dark eyes. X never lied to her, even when the alternative might be easier – that was just part of who he was and how their relationship worked. This new bit of information didn't change her feelings for him, or oddly, for Indie. She knew what it was like to need someone, even for just a little bit of comfort; she would never begrudge that to anyone else. It many ways, it probably echoed her relationship with Riley.

"You sure?"

"Yes." She answered in the sudden quiet, "I'm sure."

Reaching for her hand, he smiled.

"Back so soon?" Indie greeted with a smile as the pair walked through the back door. She was just finishing up a tattoo on a young, good looking guy that was chatting on his cell phone as she worked.

"Well, you know what they say – you get one tattoo and you're more likely to get another." Buffy said brightly. She tapped X on the arm and pointed at the guy reclining in the chair Indie used for her clients. Buffy mouthed a name, recognizing the man instantly as a famous rapper. That also explained the two very large men that stood up protectively when they appeared in the back hallway, as well as the small crowd gathered out front.

"I'll be another ten or fifteen minutes here. Make yourselves at home upstairs, okay?" Indie suggested as she returned to her work, carefully finishing up the elaborate design on the young man's shoulder. Assured that the guests were okay and would not harass their charge, the two bodyguards, Tiki and Jonas sat back down.

Half an hour later, Indie sat next to Buffy at her table studying the design in what was obviously a very old book.

"This is a unique design," Indie commented as she took out a piece of paper and carefully began to copy the gryphon design. "Mean something to you?"

"Yes." Buffy answered, then quietly amended, "Well, it did once."

"It did, huh?" The attractive tattooist glanced up curiously. "That sounds like the past. You sure you want to make it permanent?"

"Yes." The petite blonde insisted, glancing at the paper that now contained the drawn replica of the tattoo. Indie would shrink it down and reverse it before printing it on her skin to begin the inking process.

"Some things are better left in the past, you know," Indie said with discreet emphasis. She sat back in her chair and studied Buffy's expression. "If you don't mind me asking, why do you want this? I can tell there's a special significance, and I would guess that it involves a guy."

A small silence fell, the noise of Xander moving around in the makeshift kitchen suddenly audible.

"Xander told me that every one of his tattoos means something to him. Reminders, markers of life events…" Buffy said at last, somewhat uncomfortable in explaining the motivation behind the desire to get a replica of Angel's tattoo tattooed over her heart. "This," she tapped the design with her finger, "is about love. And about trust. Love isn't forever, no matter what you think or say or believe. No matter what you want to think or say or believe. It's a reminder that with love, you only get what you have in your hand at any given moment. You need to seize that moment in both hands and hold on with everything you have, because that may be all you have. If someone tells you otherwise, you can't believe that. You can't believe them. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, I think so." Indie replied thoughtfully, wondering at the same time who the guy was that had obviously hurt the young woman in front of her so badly that she no longer believed in lasting love. Probably, she guessed, the same guy that inspired the angel wings and broken heart that she had done not that long ago on Buffy's lower back.

"It probably sounds a little exaggerated…" the petite blonde shrugged dismissively. Even if she couldn't articulate it clearly so that someone else would understand, she felt it in her heart.

"What happened to the guy?" The tattooist asked just as X stepped through the door carrying a tray of drinks.

Buffy glanced up at Xander and wondered how much he had heard. Her direct gaze held his for a moment.

"So what happened to the guy?" X repeated with a smile, his deep voice soothing, cajoling.

Even though X knew most of the details about her past with Angel, Buffy hesitated out of habit before answering. Even now, after all this time, a lingering pain still accompanied the actual words, "He left me."

Leaning down, X dropped a kiss on Buffy's lips. "He was a fool."

Smiling and smacking Xander lightly on the arm, Indie interrupted, "You can do that later." She glanced at Buffy, "I'm ready to do this if you are."

"Yep." Buffy said, taking her shirt off so that Indie could tattoo the design on her breast over her heart.

Giving her a playful and suggestive wink, Xander sprawled on the couch to wait.

A few hours later, Buffy and Xander sped along the LA freeway toward Sunnydale.

"I still can't believe Dawn has been stealing. It's so … I don't know." Buffy said sadly, still stung by her friends accusation that she was neglecting her sister in order to spent time with X. Of course, it hadn't helped that Buffy had been in LA when it happened; in fact, that only increased her guilt feelings.

Willow had called just as they were leaving the tattoo parlor and said that she had picked Dawn up from the department store after she and her friend were caught shoplifting. Apparently it wasn't the first time. The store owner was, thankfully, willing to not press charges if Dawn and Amber were to get some sort of counseling or help.

Buffy sighed heavily. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Hey, raising a kid is tough business. You're doing all right." Xander said encouragingly, reaching across the seat for her hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Just deal with each thing as it comes, that's all you can do."

"I guess." Buffy stared out the window into the dark, pushing aside the wave of hopelessness that threatened to wash over her. Things were better now than they had been after her return from Heaven and they were steadily improving. Thanks, she thought affectionately, in large part due to the support and encouragement from Xander Cage.

She hadn't cared for her friends' ‘intervention' a few weeks ago when they attempted to tell her that X was not all that he seemed and that they worried about her involvement with him; when they, in fact, went as far as to recommend that she no longer continue to see him. They had some details about his background, including his Internet activities known to underground extreme sports enthusiasts as ‘The Xander Zone', his involvement with the NSA, and even his most recent trip to China – though not the exact reason - so Buffy knew that Willow had actively doing her research. Their friendship had been strained since. This recent incident with Dawn only added more fuel to their argument that Buffy was neglecting her responsibilities at home.

Xander squeezed her hand then, drawing her attention back to him. After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile. She survived a lot worse than this. She'd get through it. And this time, she had help.

Present, Angel Investigations…

Angel only half-listened to the comments and bickering behind him as he shifted restlessly back and forth in front of the desk on the balls of his feet. Despite the now blank computer screen, he could still see the video playing over and over again in his mind, and one scene in particular: Buffy jumping up in Xander's arms, his hands groping her, their lips meeting…

It took him back, years before, to that day in the Bronze, how she jumped into his arms exactly the same way. The memory was still vivid in his mind, complete with the same underlying feelings of jealously and doubt that had filled him even then – only today it was multiplied.

"Saw you making friends."

"Them? Boys. I like you."

They had only begun to let their guard down around each other, to touch, to kiss… little things he had missed so much, but was afraid to allow for fear that he would reach a point in which he could no longer retain control… it was too great of a risk to even contemplate. Ultimately, those feelings contributed to his decision to leave Sunnydale as he became convinced that Buffy would be better off without him.

But now… what was she doing? He could find no reasons to explain away what he had seen to his satisfaction. He certainly never expected to see her behaving so… irrationally was word that came immediately to mind. Skydiving, slaying on video – while dressed so scantily – and who knows what else - it all had to be the influence of Xander Cage, who obviously was lacking in common sense, what with the reckless behavior he was apparently known to engage in on a regular basis.

"What does she see in that tattooed Neanderthal anyway?" he muttered under his breath as he thrust his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, tattooed Neanderthal?" Cordy queried wryly, one eyebrow quirking upward. "And, what exactly is that thing on your back if not a tattoo?"

Angel hadn't realized that he had spoken out loud until he heard Cordelia's question. He glanced around to see everyone watching him expectantly. His jaw snapped shut, but he didn't answer. Instead, he turned his back on his friends and stared once more at the flickering computer screen.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, against all sensible argument, against the logic that had kept him firmly in Los Angeles for almost two years, against the rationale that he had perfected during that time about how Buffy was better off without him, how she needed a normal life, how he wasn't good enough for her, he whirled around, grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Cordelia called from behind him, her voice carrying through the wide expanse of the hotel lobby.

"Out," he said flatly, barely slowing his stride.

"Out?" Cordelia echoed suspiciously. "Out where exactly?" Her demanding tone was filled with both exasperation and concern.

"Sunnydale," he mumbled reluctantly. He slowed his steps of out politesse but still continued toward forward.

"Sunnydale?" Cordy repeated with a touch of alarm. Her wide eyes met Wesley's, communicating her nervousness and fear. "You're not going to do anything… rash are you?"

"No," Angel replied peevishly, shrugging into his coat with a quick jerk and fishing in his pocket for the keys.

"I'm coming with," Gunn declared, scooping up his jacket as he stepped around the desk and made to follow his boss.

"No," Angel said in a low voice, halting just inside the door. He finally turned to face the team, one hand held up for emphasis. "I'm going alone."

"Hey, I'm not giving up a chance to meet X," Gunn stated emphatically. He glanced at the others. "I was a fan way before any of you."

"Well, there's no way I'm going to miss this," Cordelia added, grabbing her purse from under the counter. After only a brief hesitation, she also grabbed a pair of stakes.

Angel inhaled deeply, trying to control his irritation and impatience. He wanted, no needed to talk to Buffy alone. "Someone has to stay here and take care of business."

"What business?" Wes asked glibly, tossing the remains of the Thai food into the garbage. He quickly tidied up the desk out of habit. "Things have been, pardon the pun, dead for weeks."

Angel looked from one person to the next, taking in their looks of determination with no small amount of frustration.

"Look, I just want to go to Sunnydale and talk to Buffy. Alone," he explained curtly. "There's no need for you to worry. Or for…" he waved his arm to indicate the stakes clutched Cordelia's hand, "those".

"We're still coming with you." Cordelia challenged him firmly, though she did drop the hand holding the stakes, hiding them behind her less than discreetly. She shot Wes a quick look as she started forward.

"Yes, I think it's probably best that we do come along," Wes agreed diplomatically, though his tone was resolved. Angel's current mood was uncertain at best; there was no telling what he planned in Sunnydale, but if was anything even close to what had happened after Angel and Buffy had met up after her resurrection, the former Watcher was certain that the vampire would need his friends for support.

"Road trip." Gunn nodded with a grin.

"I can finally see Sunnydale. Do you think we can actually stop by the Hellmouth?" Fred asked cheerfully, her expression hopeful as she waited for Angel's reply. "I'd like to see what it looks like – from a distance at least."

"Hey, so can I get a ride then?" Spike questioned cheerfully, breaking the silence that had fallen in the room. Four pairs of eyes turned to look at the blonde vampire. Given his uncharacteristic silence, they had practically forgotten about him.

"Fine," Angel muttered reluctantly, before turning and striding toward the door. He wasn't waiting; anyone that wasn't in the car by the time he was would be left behind.

Sunnydale…

Wearing a pair of black low-waist jeans and a pale pink top that left her midriff bare, Buffy stood in front of the mirror and put the finishing touches on her makeup.

"Almost ready," she said with a smile, her eyes in the mirror meeting those of the man currently lounging on her bed.

"Take your time," Xander murmured, content for the moment to watch her. He had returned to Sunnydale just two days ago, having been dispatched to Irian Jaya to investigate what had been thought to be some sort of demon infestation. It turned out to be a group of indigenous Papuans that were particularly bloodthirsty in their quest for freedom from the Indonesian government. Once the team had determined that the cause wasn't supernatural, preternatural or even remotely mystical, they had attempted to evacuate but were unavoidably drawn into battle. One member of X's team had been killed, and he himself had been shot in the upper arm. While initially painful, the wound was healing nicely now, and Xander was more than glad that he'd been able to convince Augustus that the best place for his recovery was Sunnydale.

"Are you sure you want to go out?" Buffy asked with concern, walking over to stand next to the bed.

Xander's eyes drifted over her, taking in her appearance. His gaze paused on the square-cut diamond that winked at him from her navel.

"Yeah, I'm sure. J.J.'d never forgive us if we didn't put in an appearance." Rolling up with only a slight wince, X glanced up at her face and smiled. "I like it. Sexy."

Returning his smile, Buffy inched closer to the bed and put her hand on his shoulder as his settled on the curve of her hip. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah." His deep voice was a rumble as he leaned forward and placed soft kisses on her taut stomach, near the new adornment.

"I was thinking of getting my nipple done too."

"That so?" Tilting his head, he looked up at her, trying to ascertain if she was serious or not.

"Yep," she returned, tossing her hair slightly. She had a playful grin on her lips and a teasing glint in her eye. It was fairly obvious that she wasn't serious, but still he played along.

"You're moving pretty fast." Xander swung his legs over the side of the bed then tugged her closer to stand between his knees. He nuzzled her breast gently, watching as her nipple hardened beneath the soft cotton. One large hand caressed her bottom, urging her closer still.

"But I thought you liked fast…" Buffy teased, her fingertips tracing the back of his neck. Her eyes were half-closed as she watched him.

"Sometimes I like slow. Thought I showed you that last night," Xander murmured as his lips closed over one taut cloth covered peak. He nibbled it gently then leaned back to looked at her face.

Buffy climbed on the bed, straddling his lap. "You did." Just before their lips met, she added softly, "But I could use a reminder."

Angel pressed firmly on the accelerator, pushing the black GTX over a hundred miles an hour. He was trying hard to ignore the constant chatter that had been going on since they had left LA, but it was growing increasingly difficult.

From the backseat, Gunn avidly told tales about Xander Cage and his various stunts, each seeming more elaborate than the last. Cordelia commented on X's physical attributes, speculating about height, weight, workout routine, and even the color of his eyes. Spike rolled his eyes often, but added his own opinion more often than not.

In the front seat, Fred and Wes chatted about the Hellmouth and Sunnydale, Wes impressing the slender physicist with what seemed to be a never ending litany of daring deeds and hair raising experiences.

By the time the lights of Sunnydale came into view, Angel's head ached from clenching his jaw in an attempt to keep from interjecting his own disparaging comments into the conversations. The noise and distraction had also kept him from organizing his thoughts, not to mention, the entire trip had been predicated largely on emotion, not logic. As he turned the car onto Buffy's street, he wondered if she were going to think he had completely lost his mind. Which, perhaps right now, wasn't that far from the truth.

"I can't believe this is still like the hot spot," Cordelia said with skepticism as they stepped through the door and into The Bronze. It had changed very little in the few years since she had been there, something that she noticed immediately and which had garnered several comments about the need to keep up with changing trends that Angel choose to ignore.

"Or maybe it's not," Gunn added, taking in the sparse crowd. There were a few younger kids, probably high school students, along with an assortment of people, most of who looked like they'd be more comfortable anywhere else. "At least not tonight."

"Tell me we're not going to have to go through all of Sunnydale's twelve cemeteries in search of our little Slayer," Cordelia muttered as the group made their way into the club. "Because I swore I would never set foot in one again after the dozen or so funerals I had to attend after graduation." Again, Angel ignored the commentary as he quickly scanned the crowd in search of Buffy. The stop at the house on Revello Drive proved unsuccessful; no one had been home, so they continued their search at the next logical place.

"I think that girl over there is waving at… one of you." Fred said as she touched Cordelia lightly on the arm.

"It's Willow! Good old Willow," Cordelia declared almost overly enthusiastically, relieved that they might be closer to finding Buffy than she had thought. "Surely she'll know where to find Buffy." Grabbing Angel's sleeve, she practically drug him over to the table where Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya sat.

Willow greeted the AI team cheerfully, "Hey guys! What a surprise! I didn't think you ever got to Sunnydale. Well, not recently anyway. And not as a group. Oh, sorry. I'm babbling. Tara, that's Wesley, Cordelia, and Angel. And…"

"I'm Fred." The brunette standing behind Cordelia added helpfully. "And this is Charles Gunn."

"Call me Gunn," Gunn corrected, nodding at the group sitting at the table.

"I'm Willow, and this is Tara, and that's Anya and Xander."

"Xander Cage?" Fred peered at Xander inquisitively. He didn't look at all like he appeared in the videos.

"Uh, no, not hardly," Anya corrected with giggle. "This one is Harris. Xander Harris. But he's taken. We're a couple."

"Ah," Fred said softly, remembering now the laughing comments that Spike had made about 'the other' Xander.

"I see you've heard of Mr. X, the muscle-bound, bald-headed, tattooed freak," Xander said derisively, earning him a hard look from Gunn.

"Is that why you're here? Looking for Xander?" Willow asked curiously, her gaze on Angel's face.

"Yes. No. I'm actually looking for-" Angel began stiffly. Did everyone have to be in on this?

"He wants to talk to Buffy." Cordelia interrupted as she jerked her thumb in Angel's direction. "He saw the Internet demon hunting thing with her new honey and wasn't real happy about it."

"Good. I hope someone can talk some sense into her." Xander eyed Angel with new respect. "She's being irresponsible and taking stupid chances – and we've tried to tell her, but she doesn't listen to us. Only to Triple X ," the young man continued with a sneer, "the total loser freak, if you ask me. I don't know what she sees in him at all. I'm sure he's the one behind all the stupid stunts. The non-slaying ones, that is. Hey, if we'd have know that you were coming we could have set something up, so we could all confront her with her behavior. Not that it will work, since we tried that once, but, hey, maybe second time's a charm. If you can hang around, I'm sure we can get something together."

"We can't stay," Angel said flatly.

"Well, still, it good that you're here now, man." Xander paused, nodding sagely at Angel. "If anyone can get through to Buffy, it's you."

"Ah… The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Wes murmured softly, the words picked up by Angel's preternatural hearing and by Gunn who was standing next to the former Watcher, but no one else. Wesley could clearly hear the undercurrent of jealousy in the younger man's voice, and he wondered if Xander Harris had more than friendly feelings for Buffy.

"They go motorcycle racing," Willow blurted. She had to agree with Xander – if anyone could get through to Buffy it would probably be Angel.

"And skydiving. Don't forget the skydiving," Xander pointed out with disdain. "They even videotaped it."

"She was practically ignoring Dawn," Willow added seriously, as if that were the worse of acts. "And Dawn was stealing."

"But-but that's changed now. Dawn's straightened up now, thanks to Buffy getting-getting involved. She's even working with a tutor tonight," Tara corrected softly. She didn't agree with Willow or Xander about X's influence on Buffy and tried to voice her opinion both privately to Willow and with the group, but she had been largely ignored. They believed what they wanted and weren't open to seeing things any other way.

"He goes demon hunting with her now," Xander remarked petulantly, tapping his hand on the table. "She takes him instead of us."

"And don't forget the sex," Anya announced matter-of-factly.

Abruptly, everyone turned to stare at the former vengeance demon.

"Well, you said you didn't like that they were having sex," Anya said with a lift of her shoulders in the awkward silence. She shrugged off the stares, taking a sip of her soda.

"Do you know where I can find her?" Angel asked, wanting to stop the tell-all session before it went into any more detail. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable with Buffy's friends tattling on her to him.

"She went with the tattooed freak to some rave," Xander muttered resentfully.

"They usually have them in the abandoned warehouse buildings down by the docks." Tara spoke softly, "But if you aren't on the invite list, you can't get in."

"Thanks." Angel nodded appreciatively. In a flash, he was gone.

"I hate when he does that," Cordelia said with annoyance as she hurried toward the door. "Hurry, or I'm sure he'll leave us to walk." They said a quick good-bye, then the rest of the AI team hurried out behind Cordelia.

"Maybe we should go watch? Or help or something?" Xander asked after they left.

"No…" Willow answered uncertainly. "That's probably not a good idea." She wasn't sure how Angel had found out about Buffy and Xander, though she had considered calling him a few times to see if he could talk some sense into Buffy. The question was, would the vampire be able to get through to her?

"And miss the fireworks? But it's what you've all been waiting for, isn't it?" Spike queried with a sardonic smirk as he strolled casually by the table, an unlit cigarette dangling out of his mouth. Wesley released the blonde vampire only moments earlier, just before he raced to catch up with the others as they followed Angel on foot toward the docks.

With a knowing look that didn't quite hide his disdain, Spike disappeared through the back door.

The rave wasn't hard to find once they got near the docks. They simply followed the line of people and the loud music. Angel pushed his way through the people crowed around the door of the once abandoned building, slowing as he reached the burly bouncer near the entrance. He impatiently handed the man a hundred dollar bill, and waited only a moment for the man's nod of acceptance before stepping through the door.

Once inside the building, he paused, his eyes scanning the scene. Loud and raucous heavy metal music pulsated through he entire building, a live band playing at one end on a makeshift stage. Firepots burned along the stage, giving the heavily made up band the look of being behind a wall of fire. In front of the stage a dense crowd of people gyrated and moshed to the music. The near wall was lined with a counter that served as a makeshift bar.

He spotted her on his second sweeping glance of the building's interior. She was dancing near the stage, toward the edge of the crowd. She was into the band and the music, and paying absolutely no attention the small group of admirers that were gathered around and watching her intently. One of those admirers, Angel noted with displeasure, was Xander Cage. With his arm in a sling, the man leaned casually against the wall a few feet away. His eyes were on Buffy as well, though he was smiling and talking with a pair of grungy looking kids, both wearing dark, baggy clothes and beanies.

Angel shouldered his way through the crowd, moving directly toward his former girlfriend. Behind him Cordelia could be heard chastising someone loudly as she, Wes and Gunn attempted to follow.

X pushed away from the wall when he noticed the dark-haired man moving determinedly through the crush of people and toward Buffy. Excusing himself from the conversation, he made his way toward Buffy as well.

Buffy, aware that her vampire senses were tingling at full alert, stopped dancing and slowly turned around to face the man that was now only a short distance away. She had initially doubted her Angel senses, thinking it completely impossible that he would be here of all places, but she quickly masked her surprised when she realized that she had been wrong.

Angel's gaze lit on the man now standing directly behind Buffy. His eyes moved from Xander's face to his damaged arm and back to his face again, and he scoffed slightly. One of X's stunts must not have turned out so well. Still, he was a little surprised that the man was larger than he appeared from a distance or on video, his chest thick, his arms heavily muscled. They were on par height-wise as well, X standing only an inch or two shorter.

Both men drew steadily closer until they were standing only a few feet apart, Buffy between them.

The diminutive slayer glanced at Angel then back at Xander then back to Angel again. The tension between the two men was obvious. The crowd around them had parted slightly, the people nearest stopping to watch the unfolding scene.

"Ok, so… Xander, this is Angel. Angel, this is Xander Cage." Buffy made the introductions coolly, making her displeasure with their behavior know by her tone and the pointed look that she gave to each of them.

"Nice to meet you," Xander finally said, though there was no hint of a welcoming warmth in his deep voice. "So what are you doing here, Angel? I got the feeling that Sunnydale isn't your kind of town any more. That you preferred the city."

"I want to talk to Buffy," Angel fairly growled in response.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," X remarked, a faint challenge in his tone.

"And I want both of you to remember that I'm standing right here," Buffy snapped, her eyes flashing angrily. "What are you doing here, Angel?"

Finally pushing through the crowd, Cordelia practically stumbled into Angel's back in her haste. Gunn, Fred, and Wes were close behind.

"You could have told the no-neck bouncer at the door that we were with you," Cordelia chastised breathlessly as she gave Angel a peeved look. "I practically had to flash him to get us in here."

"And wow, you brought the whole team," Buffy noted sardonically. "Is this something dire? Do we need to prepare for an apocalypse?"

"No. I just want to talk to you," Angel answered, glancing at Buffy then back to X. "Alone."

Buffy considered his expression for a moment as well as the serious expressions of his colleagues.

"Please." It was an enormous concession from a man that had been close to losing his temper for the last four hours; that wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with Xander Cage and then to shake some sense into Buffy until she saw things his way. Or maybe he just wanted to kiss her until that happened… he wasn't entirely sure.

Buffy inhaled deeply. Could she do this? Conversations with Angel tended to be painful, the last one, just days after her resurrection, more so than ever. But, she reminded herself, things were different now, she was different. And Angel was obviously determined, so… she would have to do this. Stiffing her spine, she reached for Xander's hand. "I'll be right back." Her expression slightly pleading, willing him to trust her, she squeezed his hand.

After a slightly hesitation, Xander reluctantly released her hand. He gave Angel a hard look of warning, but the vampire didn't glance back, his gaze trained on Buffy. Xander watched the pair quietly until they disappeared out the back door.

"Dude! You just let your girl go into the back alley with that guy? Are you crazy?" Daniel, one of the two younger men that had been talking to Xander earlier, exclaimed in surprise. He and Nate had watched the entire exchange interestedly, X being a local hero of sorts to them.

"Yeah, man. What if he attacks her or something? I mean, man, he looked… kinda pissed off and mean." Nate added his own comments in his casual surfer drawl.

X turned to the two men with a level gaze. He gave them a polite but dismissive smile, "Buffy can handle herself. Trust me, I know."

"Xander Cage? Love your work, man," Gunn greeted as he approached. "I'm a big fan. I'd love to hear about-"

"I'm Cordelia Chase, this is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and that's Fred Burkle," Cordelia interrupted with a flirtatious smile. "You boys can talk stunts and manly stuff later. Right now I need a few minutes of your time." Taking Xander's arm insistently, she led him away. When they reached a corner of some privacy, she stopped and looked up at him. "Now, tell me all about how you met our little Buffy."

The heavy door closed behind them, the sounds of the band now a muffled rumble. Buffy walked a short way down the cluttered alley collecting her thoughts. She stopped under the only light in the alley, the dim white light casting the area in a grayish hue. As she turned to face the man behind her, she crossed her arms over her chest. The air was chilly and she wished for a moment that she brought a jacket.

"Well?" She prompted, her voice strained.

"What are you doing, Buffy?" Angel blurted, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He couldn't believe how different she looked. Beautiful, but she had always been that. No, it was more of a maturity. She was a woman now, not the girl he had known. If possible, she was more beautiful, more stunning than ever. And undeniably sexy.

"It's called dancing." Her tone was cool, impatient.

"Does Giles know about any of this?" He asked instead, ignoring her glib comment.

"What? The dancing?" Buffy returned sarcastically. "Or the having a good time part?"

"The sky diving? The motorbike racing? The demon hunting on camera?" He ground out, taking a menacing step toward her.

Undaunted, she stared back at him. "How… who told you about that?"

"Does it matter? I know you've been taking a lot of unnecessary risks."

"Okay, so? I take risks every day, remember? Slayer. It comes with the territory," she snapped, annoyed.

"So I worry about you." The diamond sparkling in her navel was a distraction, his eye repeatedly drawn to her midsection. When did she do that? And when did it get so sexy?

Buffy laughed, the sound harsh. "Right. Well, don't. I'm not your business anymore, Angel. And if that's all you came to say, you can just go back to LA now."

"As a matter of fact," she continued, her anger flaring. "If I remember correctly it wasn't that long ago when I begged you – I begged you - to stay with me. I needed you. But all you said was no, you couldn't. You couldn't leave LA. We couldn't be together. Staying away from me was for my own good."

His answer was a snarl, "That's not what I said you know it. And that's not the only reason I couldn't come back here."

"It's close enough, isn't it? I'll bet if I would have been Faith or your precious Cor-deel-ya, you would have found a way," Buffy sneered, long buried feelings of hurt and jealousy surfacing.

"Do you really believe that?" He asked softly, taken aback somewhat by her accusation. Did she really think that he would put either of them above her willingly? Maybe in her eyes he had, but he had thought that she understood the reasons behind it.

"Look, it doesn't matter," she said, her temper abating slightly with the soft tone of Angel's voice and the concerned expression on his face. He could touch her more than anyone else could or ever had. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to get out of this conversation before it got worse. "I don't know why you did what you did, but it doesn't matter any more. I don't care."

"I left you, Buffy, because I wanted you to have a normal life. I stayed away from you for the same reason. You deserve better."

Closing her eyes against the turmoil of emotions his words created, Buffy gritted out, "New flash, Angel. I'll NEVER have a normal life. NEVER. It will always be a freak show."

"It doesn't have to be, Buffy, but you've chosen that path by seeing Xander Cage," he said coldly.

"How dare you!" She snapped, her eyes blazing angrily as she stepped toward him. "That's none of your business."

"Are you telling me he's just some normal guy? The kind of normal guy you always wanted?" he demanded furiously. "Because I don't buy that for a second."

"What do you care anyway?" She exploded furiously. "You left! You left me. In case you need a little reminder here, you told me one day that we'd make it work, then not even a month later you left. After a few discouraging words from the Mayor – who was EVIL – and a few suggestions from my mother, you tucked your tail between your legs and took off."

"I-"

"You listened to what they said and somehow decided that I needed sunlight and picnics. A fucking picnic, Angel?" She interrupted harshly. "When in hell did I ever ask you for a picnic? When did I ever give you the idea that I wanted anything but you?"

"That's not the only reason we couldn't be together and you know it." He glared at her, his jaw clenched.

"Maybe, maybe not." She returned flippantly. "How could I when you never asked ME what I wanted, when you never talked to me about it at all. Never," she snarled hotly. They had variations of this conversation over the years, but never before had she fully expressed all of the pent up feelings and thoughts before tonight. Always before she had tiptoed around the issues, afraid perhaps of what might happen if she expressed herself honestly. Afraid too, of hurting Angel.

"You, in your infinite wisdom, decided that I was just some swoony little school girl that couldn't possibly know what I wanted. I couldn't possibly make decisions for myself. So you and the mayor and my Mom had to make them for me. I was old enough to fuck, but not old enough to make my own decisions. Kinda funny now that you think about it, isn't it?"

"Damn it, Buffy!" He wanted to shake her for that, for making him burn with the vivid image that her words created in his mind.

"But you know what? I'm a stronger person now, so I should thank you for making me to deal with my return on my own. I've learned and grown."

"You could have fooled me… you're actually like a spoiled brat that doesn't care whether she lives or dies," he sneered. "You're taking too many chances, and you damn well know it."

"Yeah, well, I had to claw my way out of my own damned grave, so forgive me if I'm a little short on patience."

In two long strides he reached her. Gripping her arms, he hauled her up close to face him. "You forget who you're talking to, sweetheart. I've clawed my way out of my own grave too. That's hardly an excuse."

With a hard shove, she pushed him way. "You have no right to come here now and tell me how to live my life. None."

"I don't believe for a minute that you're happy."

"You don't even know me."

"Maybe I don't know you any more, but this… the tattoos, the piercings, the risks… this isn't the girl I know."

"It isn't? Then who is it, Angel? Who is the real Buffy? The one that does her sacred duty without complaints? The one that lets her friends run her life, passing their hypocritical judgments and sanctimonious lies? The one that lets everyone else tell her what she wants and needs? Should I just sit back and do what I'm told?"

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it."

"Do I? I'm not the girl you knew any more, Angel, I' m a woman. I'm not going to sit around any longer hoping that someday the man I love will come back to me, that he'll decide I'm worth whatever price. Especially when you've made it abundantly clear that you don't want any kind of life with me. Instead I'm going to be with someone that wants to spend their life with me. Someone that accepts who I am and still wants me . Because, like it or not, I'm still the Slayer. I'll always be the Slayer. We both know that chances are slim that I'll see thirty, so I have to take what I can get now."

"That's not… It doesn't have to be that way."

"Why? Because that doesn't suit what you want to believe?"

He didn't have an answer for her.

"Do you know how much I wanted you to come back to me, to tell me that you loved me, that I mattered enough for you to find a way to secure your soul? Do you know how long I waited and hoped for that? I figured if you loved me enough, you'd find a way. That we'd find a way. And even if we didn't, and we couldn't have sex, I thought maybe, just maybe, you'd still want to be with me. But you never did that. I don't even know if you even thought about it. Instead, you just decided that we couldn't be together. Ever. And you walked away and started a shiny new life without me. Even after I begged you… you still walked away from me. Tell me if that's not the truth."

"It's not that easy," he said, clipped and terse.

"I admit it. I was a stupid, starry-eyed, girl. I would have waited for you. I would have done anything to find a way to be with you. I would have done anything for you." She gave a short bark of bitter laughter and shook her head. "I would have died for you. You only had to ask."

"Buffy…"

"Go home, Angel. Go back to LA and forget all about me." She turned and walked away.

"Buffy."

His voice was soft, but something in it prompted her to stop. She looked back at him questioningly.

"Just tell me one thing...." He didn't really want to know, but he couldn't keep himself from asking. "Do you love him?"

Staring at the man that had given her the greatest joy she had ever known as well as the greatest pain she had ever experienced, it took her almost a minute before she could answer. She was surprised that he even had to ask. The gryphon tattoo on her chest seemed to burn. Her voice, when she did speak, was husky. "What do you think, Angel?"

He watched until she disappeared back into the building, then turned blindly to stare at the boxes of trash piled up in the alley. Before he could collect his thoughts, the door burst open and Cordelia, followed by Wes, Gunn and Fred burst into the alley.

"Well? So what happened?" Cordelia questioned directly. They had seen Buffy come through the door, her head down. Without stopping to talk to anyone, even X, she pushed her way through the crowd toward the restrooms. Cordelia wasn't certain, but she thought she had seen tears on the Slayer's cheeks which didn't bode well. Most likely they would have a brooding vampire on their hands for weeks to come.

Sighing, Angel looked at the curious and eager expressions of his friends. "Let's go home."

Sunnydale...

"Xander's still gone?" Tara asked from her seat at the counter in the kitchen. Across from her, Buffy finished cleaning up the morning breakfast dishes. It was quiet in the house now, both Dawn and Willow having left almost half an hour ago to hit the mall.

"Yeah," Buffy replied, lifting the now whistling kettle off the stove and pouring the hot water into the ceramic teapot. "It's been almost a month now. When I talked to him a few days ago he said that with any luck, he should be back here in a week or two."

"That's good. It's hard being apart, isn't it?" Tara said softly, smiling slightly and nibbling on a piece of toast.

"It is…" Buffy said after a moment, taking a seat next to Tara and refilling both their cups. "I mean, I worry about him when he's gone; what he does is dangerous. And I miss having him around."

"But…" Tara prompted, glancing at Buffy over the rim of her cup.

Buffy's gaze drifted to the tea leaves in her cup, as though an answer to her emotional well being might lie somewhere in the confused pattern. If only things had turned out differently...

Differently how? More… normal?

No, not normal. Immediately she dismissed the word, though she had used it several times in the past in an attempt to define what she was seeking. Even then it hadn't been what she had meant exactly, but she had lacked a better description. The simple truth was that she wanted something that was quite far from normal… and that was the conundrum.

"X and I… what we have is really great. Really, really great," Buffy explained slowly, choosing to be completely honest instead of simply providing an answer to placate the blonde wicca, something she wouldn't dream of doing with Willow, Xander Harris, or even Dawn. "It's comfortable, and nice and wonderful in so many ways. Many ways," she amended with a suggestive lift of her eyebrows and a smile. "And he treats me as a partner, an equal."

"But it's not exactly mad, passionate love," Tara quietly suggested, watching Buffy's expression carefully.

"I love him, I do. But maybe… that kind of love… the mad, passionate, wildly crazy, sometimes painful kind of love, real love… maybe that's something that you only feel once in your life," Buffy spoke reflexively, seriously beginning to question the possibility of ever feeling that same depth of emotion ever again. "Or maybe… maybe it's me… maybe… after, you know, coming back… maybe I just can't feel that kind of love anymore."

"I don't think it's that you can't ," Tara said thoughtfully after a moment. "I think maybe it's that you still do. Just maybe not for… Xander. Maybe for… someone else."

"Angel, you mean." There was disparagement in Buffy's voice. "The man that didn't want to be with me even after I begged him."

"Oh, Buffy…" Tara murmured sympathetically, reaching out to touch Buffy on the arm.

"I haven't exactly told anyone about that…" Buffy said on a quiet exhalation of breath, her gaze once more focused on the tea leaves in her cup.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Buffy grimaced, unwilling to drudge up the painful memories. "Let's just say that when Angel and I met up after I came back, it didn't go so well." Picking up her cup, she took a sip of tea. Her eyes met Tara's. "Angel made his choice. And now I have to make mine."

"Yours?! You mean… has X asked you…" Tara stammered, startled by the implication of Buffy's statement.

"No, nothing like that," Buffy quickly said, a small smile curving her lips. "We haven't really even talked about the future beyond now and what we might do next week or whatever."

"But you're thinking about it? The future, I mean."

"Once in awhile I do," Buffy admitted with a shrug. Since Angel's surprise visit over a month ago she'd actually thought about it quite a lot, yet she hadn't reached any sort of conclusion. She loved Xander… but she wasn't sure if she could see her future with him. In all honesty, she wasn't sure she dared imagine a future with anyone. Maybe Slayers were simply destined to live short lives, alone. Anything else was just… expecting too much. Pushing away the maudlin thoughts, she asked, "Don't you?"

"Think of the future? I do… I guess it's easy to imagine my future with Willow. There was never anyone else, really. At least, no one that has ever affected me the same way," Tara finished with a whimsical smile.

"Willow is lucky. You're both lucky," Buffy said affectionately. "And that's the way it should be. Now, what do say the two of us catch a movie this afternoon? I could use some fun of the non-slaying type before patrol tonight."

Whether it was the demon slime that covered his shoes and a good part of his calves, or the reminders of his past that the demon had flung at him with a derogatory sneer, by the time Angel drove his sword through the creature's gut, he was thoroughly discomposed and agitated.

He had just exited the dark alley and started up 7 th Street on his way back to the Hyperion when he saw a green Jeep Cherokee cross the nearby intersection. Stopping abruptly, he dropped back into the shadows and watched the vehicle intently. The tension in his body eased slightly as the two unfamiliar women got out of the car and went into the restaurant across the street. Returning his gaze to the parked car, his thoughts drifted back to another time, several months ago…

The secluded cove was just over an hour's drive outside of Los Angeles, almost a halfway point to Sunnydale. It was windy and threatening to rain as he drove, the headlights of the GTX slicing through dark. When he crested the small hill near the beach, he saw a green Jeep Cherokee parked alongside the road and a sense of relief washed over him so strong that he almost felt light-headed. He eased his car off the road and parked, his searching gaze already turned south toward the trees that sheltered the beach.

Even with his keen preternatural eyesight, he didn't see her initially as he made his way along the narrow path, stepping carefully through the gnarled brush as he worked his way down the small dune. At the bottom he paused, seeing her for the first time in almost a year and a half.

"Angel?" She questioned in a breathy voice, rising from where she had been sitting on a piece of driftwood. With a sliver of the moon behind him, he was a silhouette against the line of trees blocking the road, his broad leather-clad shoulders filling her vision almost like a powerful apparition.

She stood very still… and yet, he knew she was trembling.

"I had to see you," he said quietly, knowing immediately that simply seeing her would not be enough. With measured steps, he advanced toward her.

Buffy responded to his murmured words as if he touched her, a desperate sense of relief combined with pleasure inundating her senses. A single heartbeat later, a small voice of reason reminded her to be less desperately happy and more wary. Seeing Angel in front of her wasn't the same as having him back in her life. Seeing him wasn't going to take away the bills, the problems, the pain…

"I'm glad. I mean, I wanted to see you too," she said, still rooted to the spot. Her fingers were curled tightly in her palms, her body rigid.

"How are you?" He stood very close now, although he made no move to touch her. He could feel the warmth of her body and smell the sweet delicate fragrance of warm vanilla that would forever define her to him. Achingly potent memories of times past stirred.

"I'm good," she returned, trying to be as cool as he, even as she was struggling with the sensation of his nearness. "I mean, things are good. I'm trying to deal with everything. Everything being stuff with the house and bills and the basement, which happens to be flooded." The words tumbled out in a rushed flurry. "And there's Dawn and school. Oh, and slaying, of course. I thought I could ease my way back into things there, but no. There's no quiet on the hell mouth. I should know that after all this time, but I guess I just… forgot."

"Buffy." His voice was low, just carrying over the sound of the nearby breaking waves.

"Huh?" She paused in her ramble, looking up at him.

"How are you really?" His hands brushed her shoulders lightly as he reached her.

He was too close suddenly, the look in his eyes and the husky velvet resonance of his tone conveying a message apart from his words. His concern never failed to touch her deeply, and tonight was certainly no exception.

"I'm trying…I am…" she whispered, her eyes glistening with tears. There was a hint of desperation in her voice. Her palms settled on his chest as she held her hands up to hold him away. "Please, Angel, you're too close and I can't…"

For a breath-held moment, his thoughts scattered and he was only aware of her touch, the warmth of her hands burning through the silk of his shirt. He closed his eyes bri efly, attempting to stave off the intensity of his feelings but when his lashes lifted, he said instead, "I've missed you, every day…"

His voice drifted around her, caressing her. She fought against it, knowing that he'd only hurt her again, knowing that he couldn't give her what she wanted, and then she felt his arms slide around her waist. For a second more she controlled her impulses, then slowly slid her palms up his chest. Rising up on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Their kiss was one of insatiable hunger, of longing and desperation, and of unrequited love. Slanting his head, he pulled her tightly into his body, one large hand splayed at the base of her spine and the other moving to cup the back of her head.

They were in the sand, lips still melded together, hands tugging at clothing and moving over bare skin and intimate places before he knew what was happening.

"Come to Sunnydale with me, Angel, please. I need you," she said in small breathless voice, clutching him close, her body undulating with the smallest of motions beneath him.

Holding himself motionless and rigid over her, he sucked in an unneeded breath. He struggled then to remember all the reasons for leaving her those years ago, all of the pragmatic, rational ones that he had replayed time and again in his mind but was finding it hard to do with her slender form pressed so close, so intimately to his own.

His eyes closed as her lips, soft and warm, drifted along his neck. When she bit down he jerked back, suddenly aware that he was dangerously close to losing all control.

"Buffy…" his voice was gruff, heated. His fingers bit into her shoulders as he forcibly moved her away from him. "We shouldn't be doing this. We can't…"

"I know, I'm sorry. But I… I need you. I can't do this on my own. It's too hard."

"Don't say that," his dark gaze was turbulent, fierce.

"I mean it. Please…" she whispered, feeling needy, frantic and unashamed. She clutched at him, holding tightly. "We can find a way, some way, to make it work. I can't do this on my own… please Angel, please…"

"We can't Buffy, you know that," Angel said, very softly, his heart breaking. It was one of the few times in his life that he had ever been overwhelmed by emotions he couldn't control or rationalize. " I can't." The final words were only a whisper of sound.

"You mean you won't." Buffy snapped, wiping at the fresh sting of tears in her eyes. Shoving him away, she rolled and struggled to her feet. With trembling fingers she righted her clothing. "Did you ever love me at all? Tell me the truth, Angel."

Running a hand through his hair, he too came to his feet. "Of course I love you, Buffy, but our feelings don't count for everything. Our lives are restricted by circumstances beyond our control." He was saying the words with the cool pragmatism that was, by necessity, part of his personality, but the cautious sentiments were far from the turbulent emotions he was intent on controlling.

"Come to Sunnydale," she said again, ignoring his words. "Please? Just for little while. I… you… we… don't have to do… anything."

Angel took a steadying breath. "It's not that simple."

"Why? Because you don't want it to be?" she retorted tersely, stung by his refusal.

"You know that's not true," he said softly, his eyes holding hers insistently.

"I don't know anything anymore," she sighed, wondering if he had any idea what she had been through or if he assumed, like the others, that she had been in hell. She wondered then if he knew that she had been waiting for him, that in her version of heaven they would have their someday and they would be together without constraints. "Tell me again why you left me," she asked, her voice low, her hazel eyes anguished.

He stood perfectly still for a moment, darkly handsome in the faint moonlight, debating on how best to answer her question.

"You deserve better than anything I could give you," Angel explained finally, trying to force his feelings into a semblance of calm he was far from feeling. "You should be with someone that can share your life, someone that can grow old with you… someone that can make love to you and give you children, if you want them. I can't give you any of those things. My leaving was about doing the right thing for you."

"You didn't love me enough, you mean." The harsh declaration matched the flare of hurt and resentment in her eyes.

"It's not a question of degrees, Buffy," Angel replied quietly, his frustration evident. "You know that." He advanced toward her, his hands out.

"Don't touch me," she whispered, clutching her arms to her chest as the tears stung her eyes. "I get it. You're right. There is no future for us. I should just go back to Sunnydale alone and forget about you and forget about us. I should find someone else," she said with a new heat in her voice, "who can do all those things that you can't. Someone who will love me and who will be there for me when I need them." Her voice hitched as she fought for control of her emotions. "Since you seem so eager throw away our love and be rid of me."

Angel stopped and dropped his hands back down to his sides. He doubted that he could ever convince her that it was because he loved her so much that he had to leave her. If he didn't… he could go to Sunnydale for days or weeks and it wouldn't be a problem. But to try to explain now would only complicate things. And as much as he wanted to say otherwise… he couldn't go to Sunnydale, even for a short while. He wasn't at all sure that he could maintain his distance from her, and to let his resolve slip was simply too risky. All too often he wanted to succumb to the temptation of her, his soul be damned. He took a deep, unneeded breath before he spoke. "I think that's for the best."

"Fine," she whispered. "Goodbye then." As she walked past him she forced herself not to cry, because she had shed too many tears over him already and because she didn't want to explain herself when she got back to Sunnydale.

With the same sort of determination that allowed him to walk away from her at least twice before, he watched her walk away without saying a word. The pain of losing her again felt like a knife twisting in his heart and for a moment he almost ran after her. But he couldn't.

A horn blaring nearby startled Angel out of his thought. Sighing, he forced away the painful memory and continued on his way up 7th Street and back to the Hyperion. If he hurried, he'd still have time to follow up on another case before sunrise…

With the crowd's attention focused on the start on the next race, Buffy slipped through the crowd to where Xander Cage and Augustus Gibbons now waited.

"That's my girl," X greeted with a smile, taking her helmet as she removed it.

"You do ride well, Miss Summers," Augustus commented, his praise offered with his characteristic solemnity. He had returned to Sunnydale a few days ago with Xander, and reluctantly joined them at the motocross race, if only to finish up his debriefing with X regarding his latest assignment.

Hoping off the motorcycle, Buffy guided it toward them. Her adrenaline was still pumping, her breathing rushed, and the exhilaration of the race still pulsing through her body. She'd almost won! And against the state champion! It was only her third race – ever – and with only a few months of experience riding. A personal sense of pride and accomplishment brought a smile to her face.

"I'll leave you two for now," Augustus interrupted, adjusting his sleeves in the warm afternoon sun. "It was nice to see you again, Miss Summers. Xander, I'll see you tomorrow, 7 am sharp. We have to finish our conversation, and discuss the little incident that I mentioned to you in Rota."

"Bye," Buffy called as she parked the bike next to the larger one that belonged to Xander.

X only nodded as the NSA director turned and walked away.

Buffy unzipped her leather riding jacket and hung it over the handle bars.

"You are damned good." A warm, deep voice purred in her ear as a pair of muscular arms slipped around her from behind.

Buffy looked over her shoulder at the smiling countenance of the man that had only just returned to Sunnydale and to her. He hadn't changed in the weeks away; her memory of him was excellent. He was much too handsome and sweetly adoring for any woman to resist, and she wondered for not the first time, how it was that Yelena could have simply left him. She couldn't imagine anyone more loving, supportive, and encouraging than he had been to her, but undoubtedly there was more between the two of them than she knew.

"So, you want to stick around for the later races, or…" Xander asked softly, his arms tightening around her as he nuzzled her hair.

"Or what?" Buffy asked teasingly, though her heart began to race now for reasons other than exertion.

"Or whatever you decide," he calmly replied, his lips sliding along the smooth column of her neck.

"Well, the races are really fun…" she said playfully, leaning back against him and resting her hands on his forearms. "But it sounds like you have an early day tomorrow."

"I do."

"And you're leaving again soon?" she ventured quietly, her voice lowering slightly.

"Not for a couple of weeks. Longer if I can convince Gibbons to send Sanderson instead," he replied lightly.

"Hm… well, unless you want to stay, I say we get out of here. And I'll contrive to find some other way to amuse you," Buffy said flirtatiously. She had resolved to take each day as it came, and not worry about what would happen in the future; today was as good a day as any to make sure and stick to that resolve.

"You're on." Dropping his arms, he reached out and plucked her helmet from the seat of his bike where he had placed it only moments before and tossed it to her.

"First one home, winner's choice."

"Choice?" Xander asked, a smile warmed his eyes.

"Top or bottom," Buffy returned matter-of-factly as she slipped her helmet on then reached for her jacket.

X grinned, "I win either way."

Angel spent the next few weeks attempting to once again compartmentalize his feelings for Buffy, to tuck them away again somewhere in the depths of his heart and mind where they were safe from perusal or free from pain. When he wasn't brooding, he filled his hours with activity so as to avoid having to think because too much consideration only made him question his decision. Work became his refuge, and he approached it with an indefatigable determination and persistence.

And, much to their annoyance, he expected the rest of the AI team to do the same.

"Why do I have to do it?" Cordelia asked indignantly, gazing at the group now gathered around her desk and looking at her expectantly. "Wesley should do it. It's a guy to guy bonding thing."

"No, no. I believe that a woman-" Wes began assertively, glancing at Gunn and Fred for support.

"Stop right there," Cordelia interrupted, her dark eyes flashing.

"Why don't we draw straws?" Fred suggested with a shrug, hoping to head off any argument before it could get started.

"I don't know…" Gunn said skeptically. "I'm not good at this kinda thing. I have to agree with Wes, I think that a woman-"

"If we have to do this, then we're definitely drawing straws," Cordelia interrupted. She looked at Gunn then Wes pointedly.

"Fine with me," Wes said slowly with a nod.

"All right, all right," Gunn agreed albeit reluctantly.

Fred gathered four of the red coffee stirrers from the nearby table and handed them to Wes, who cut the bottom off one and then held them out. Starting with Cordelia, they all took one.

"Damn it! You did that on purpose." Cordelia glared at the former Watcher accusingly as she held the shortest of the four straws up.

"Not at all," Wes countered indignantly. "You chose that one of your own accord. Luck of the draw, so to speak."

"You're up." Gunn grinned, obviously relieved.

"Two out of three?" The brunette seer suggested with a coquettish smile.

"No!" The other three cried in unison, none of them particularly anxious to talk to their boss, even though they all agreed that it needed to be done.

"Fine," Cordelia muttered as she stood and strode over to Angel's office door. Stopping, she turned, "You guys are… wimps."

"Yes, we know," Wes agreed complaisantly, a pleased smile on his face. "Now go."

Opening the door Cordelia peeked into Angel's office. He was sitting behind the desk, staring intently at an open book, apparently engrossed in the contents.

"Angel?"

"What is it, Cordelia?" he asked without looking up.

She slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. Casually, she walked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time, before finally coming to a stop in front of the desk.

"So how's it going?" Cordelia sat down in the chair across from him, tucking her hands under her thighs.

"What do you want?" Angel finally lifted his gaze from the passage in the book he was reading. He wasn't fooled by her casual demeanor; Cordelia wanted something. He couldn't guess what it was this time, though most often it was money. She had to spend more on clothing, shoes, and makeup than any other woman he had ever known.

"Nothing. I just thought we could, you know, talk or something. Share some thoughts, or say, some feelings like friends do. You know, confide in each other so that you feel better and can move on when certain things are bothering you."

Angel leaned back in the chair, one eyebrow quirking up in question.

"Fine. Let me be the first to stay that I did not volunteer for this. I drew the short straw," she confessed, dropping the pretext that she was simply dropping in for a friendly chat.

"Okay, and?"

"Look, let me be honest. You're making everyone miserable."

Angel didn't reply, only stared back at the brunette, his expression impatient.

"You're angry and you're brooding and most importantly, you're working us all to death. It's not good to keep all that, you know, angst," she said with a wave of her hand, "all bottled up. A week, we understood, two weeks, okay, understandable, it's Buffy. But we're going on almost two months now and there's no sign of the brood – or the work - letting up. I need- We need a break. I can't remember the last time I had a day off."

"I am not brooding. And if you want the day off, take it." Leaving forward, he returned his attention to the text he was previously reading.

"Yes, you are. And you've been like this since we got back from Sunnydale," she insisted, sitting back in the chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "And I'm not leaving until we talk about this, though I will take that day off so don't forget that you said that."

Angel sighed. Cordelia was nothing if not persistent. Looking up, he said, "Okay, so talk."

"Admit it, you're brooding over Buffy again and have been ever since we went to Sunnydale and you saw her with her new honey."

"You can go now. Tell them you did your duty, you talked to me," he grouched, returning his attention once more to the book in front of him. He'd spent weeks trying to put aside his feelings for Buffy, so he didn't particularly want to talk about her, or her new boyfriend, and especially not with Cordelia.

"I could do that," Cordelia said slyly. "But then… maybe I could tell you this instead… While you were out in the alley arguing with Buffy I had a little talk with Mr. Xander Cage."

"Yeah, so?" Angel's gaze flicked up. His expression was carefully neutral as he tried unsuccessfully to appear uninterested.

"Um-hum," she murmured, studying her nails casually.

Silence hung between them for a long moment before Angel finally asked, "Are you going to tell me?"

"Are you going to stay in here and brood?" Cordelia looked up, meeting Angel's dark gaze with her own.

"I'm not brooding," he countered sullenly.

"You are so, and because you won't admit it I'm not going to tell you," she said smugly as she stood and made to leave.

"Cordelia…" Angel growled menacingly. His hand struck the table with a heavy thump.

Pausing, the brunette looked back over her shoulder. She gave a put upon sigh, and ran her fingers along the back of her chair. "Look, Buffy's still in love with you."

Angel's eyes widened slightly with surprise. Her words were unexpected. "How do you know?"

"Well, besides the fact that it's completely obvious to anyone with half a brain-" At his annoyed look she stopped and amended insincerely, "Sorry… So I asked X how he met Buffy and about their relationship…"

"X, huh?" Angel scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "One meeting and you're on a first name basis already?"

"What am I supposed to call him, Mr. Cage?" she retorted sardonically, "And you don't really have much room to talk, Mister with no last name."

Angel snorted dismissively.

Cordelia waited patiently, her dark brows arched in question.

"What did he say, Cordelia?" he ground out reluctantly.

"So I asked him how they met and he said that they met at the Bronze several months ago, not long after Buffy's return from the dead, er, grave, um, resurrection. They've been dating a few months, and while it's serious it's not really that serious. I mean, they're together together , but I got the impression that it's not a forever kind of thing."

"That's it?"

"Hey, that's a lot for only a few minutes in a loud club," Cordelia shrugged. "Besides, he wasn't all that forthcoming with information. Though there was one more thing… he did ask about you..."

Angel only stared back at her.

"Don't you want to know what he asked?" she asked, taking in Angel's bland expression.

"Not really," he returned with a slight lift of his shoulders. His curiosity was well masked.

"He asked about your tattoo, about the design."

"So? Obviously the man is into tattoos. What difference would that make…" Angel trailed off as the thought crossed his mind as to why the man might be asking. "Tell me he's not going to copy it…"

"X isn't the one that copied it," Cordelia countered. "But someone else may have..." She paused, waiting for Angel to catch her meaning. When he just stared at her, she rolled her eyes and added, "It turns out that our little Slayer got a replica of your tattoo – one just like yours – over her heart."

A small silence ensued while Angel considered Cordelia's statement, wondering if it were true and at the significance of it if it were. "So?" he finally asked, the question evasive to the disordered turmoil of his thoughts. Buffy copied his tattoo? Why?

"Xander seemed to think that it had something to do with love. Not that he said it in those words exactly, but it was definitely implied. Well, more than implied."

"I see," he murmured, an acerbic edge to his tone.

Cordelia's glance flickered in irritation. "Don't you find that just a little bit interesting?"

"That doesn't mean that she- Look, Cordelia, it doesn't mean what you think it means," Angel muttered sullenly. "It doesn't mean anything. If it's even true. I mean this X guy probably just made it up."

"Uh-huh," she replied skeptically. "We are talking about the same Buffy, right? Buffy Summers? Your ex-girlfriend and love of all time? The girl that you had for lunch once?"

"Cordelia… I talked to her." His jaw was clenched, his expression shuttered. The reminder of what he had done still made him feel guilty, though it tempted him at the same time. Her blood called to him… it was one of the more pertinent reasons why he couldn't stay in Sunnydale...

"And?" she prompted, her hands on her hips.

Angel sighed. "And nothing. Look, there's no reason to dredge all this up."

"Nothing, huh?" Cordelia queried in a mocking tone. "It's nothing, and that's why you're in here brooding and have been for weeks. That doesn't sound like nothing to me. It sounds like a big fat something."

"I am not… I'm working," Angel insisted, before adding pointedly, "Unlike some people around here."

"Listen, I've worked with you long enough, I know brood and you've got it in a big way." Coming around the chair she sat down again.

Angel scrutinized her crossed arm form, her jaw set stubbornly. "I know what you're trying to do, and I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I'm not brooding, I'm working and I'd appreciate it if you, Wes, Fred and Gunn would do the same." Giving her a dismissive look, he sat forward and attempted to force his attention to the book in front of him.

A small silence descended on the room.

"Seems to me that if you really wanted the girl, you'd go get her," Cordelia suggested lightly, changing her tact.

The only sign that he had even heard her was the muscle clenching in his jaw.

"Hmpf," she snorted softly, crossing her legs. "I guess you really don't love Buffy as much as I thought. As much as any of us thought, really. I mean, I guess we were all under the impression that it was this soulmates, once in a lifetime, forever kind of thing. Huh. I guess we were wrong."

Angel's gaze came up, chill and piercing. "It's not that simple, Cordelia."

"Really?" she questioned blithely, undaunted by his look.

"Really." He repeated mockingly, his tone chill and uncompromising. "You wouldn't understand."

"Then explain it to me. Use small words so I'll be sure to understand." A hint of sharpness underscored the banter in her voice.

Long moments of silence passed as they stared at each other stubbornly.

"Buffy deserves a better life than I could give her. Buffy and I… she's moving on with her life, and that's what I wanted for her." Angel finally said. Logical words, delivered evenly and unemotionally, but even as he spoke he felt empty, depleted.

"Uh, huh."

"It's true."

"Oh my God!" Cordelia cried, jumping up from her chair as if to punctuate her sudden realization. "You're afraid of the competition!"

"Competition?" Angel shook his head, his expression perplexed. " X isn't competition, and even if he were, I'm not afraid. And I'm not competing either."

"Okay," she agreed unconvincingly as she sat back down. "But tell me something, Angel. What did Buffy say about him? Did you ask her? And no, I'm not going away until you tell me, so you might as well spit it out."

Sighing, Angel said reluctantly, "I asked her if she loved him, Cordelia."

"Okay, and so what'd she say?" Her brows rose almost infinitesimally.

"She said…" Angel paused, searching his memory for Buffy's exact answer.

"What do you think, Angel?"

"Well, did she say yes? Or no?" Cordy pressed tenaciously. "It's pretty easy to answer that question."

"She asked me what I thought."

"Okay, and what did you say?"

"Nothing," he admitted reluctantly.

At the look of shock in Cordelia's gaze, he shrugged and added defensively, "What could I say? She wants him." His memory was clear on that as more of her words echoed through his mind: " I'm not going to sit around any longer hoping that someday the man I love will come back to me, that he'll decide I'm worth whatever price. Especially when you've made it abundantly clear that you don't want any kind of life with me."

"Nothing?!" she exclaimed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Well, it's no wonder you have a hard time getting the girls, despite your… other attributes. The physical ones. Not physical as in physical, but physical as in looks. You know the tall, dark, handsome thing."

"What?"

"Honestly, a man with your experience and you don't get that she was practically begging you to tell her how you felt," Cordelia explained, shaking her head sadly.

"What?"

"Let me explain something… You dumped her and left town, which hurts. I mean, you might as well have just ripped her heart out and stomped on it. So, the last thing a woman wants to do is leave herself vulnerable to that again. The ball is now squarely in your court. You have to make the effort. You have to tell her that you love her. Once in awhile, we girls want a little bit of that he-man stuff – you know, the 'you are my woman' chest pounding thing. And if that fails, well, a lot of groveling is good. And expensive presents. That's good too. Actually, it wouldn't hurt if you started with the groveling and presents at this point."

"With Buffy I don't really think…" His voice had taken on a defensive edge.

"Well, stop thinking. Love isn't a decision, it's a feeling. Just admit that you're wrong here because you are. Wrong, that is."

Angel stared at the brunette seer as if she had lost her mind. "Buffy and I can't be a normal couple, you know that. We can't have a life together. It's too-"

"I know, I know. Look, did she say anything else? Anything that might clue you in on how she still feels about you? Think hard, this is important."

"Do you know how much I wanted you to come back to me, to tell me that you loved me, that I mattered enough for you to find a way to secure your soul? Do you know how long I waited and hoped for that? I figured if you loved me enough, you'd find a way. That we'd find a way. And even if we didn't, and we couldn't have sex, I thought maybe, just maybe, you'd still want to be with me. But you never did that. I don't even know if you even thought about it. Instead, you just decided that we couldn't be together. Ever."

"She might've said a few things." Angel mumbled, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. How could he have not heard her – really heard her? He was so busy being guarded, afraid to let himself really feel, that he closed himself off to her. He was afraid of being hurt, almost as much as she was. And yet, that's what they did to each other again and again.

Every time they parted, he thought it would get easier. But there wouldn't be enough time in the world to completely remove Buffy from his heart and mind. Restless suddenly, he stood and walked over to the bookshelf against the wall. One of her pictures was tucked securely in the third book on the second shelf, page 259. He knew it by memory from the many times he would study it as if afraid to forget her image; though he knew he never would. Not even the slightest detail of her had faded from his mind.

Would she want a future with him now, after all they had been through? Did he want that? Dare he even consider the possibility if he did?

He ran his fingers along the shelf, trying to sort out the chaos, or at least the possible from the impossible in his mind.

"Look, if you want Buffy back, you need to go get her. If you wait any longer, she could die again and then you'll just be stuck with all these bad feelings and regret, and we'll be stuck with a brooding vampire for months and months, if not years. You need to tell her that you love her and this time, don't take no for an answer."

Cordelia's voice broke into his thoughts. He hated to admit it, but the smug brunette was right. Time with Buffy was limited. Abruptly, he whirled around and strode across the office. Grabbing Cordelia's shoulders, he gave her a hard kiss on the lips. "You're right. I should go to Sunnydale and see Buffy." Turning, he headed toward the door.

"You go!" Cordelia beamed, a wide grin on her face. She was pleased with herself now that she had broken him out of his brood.

As the door closed behind him, realization dawned. Sobering, she ran out behind him, shouting, "Wait! Wait! Forget about that last part. No! No is the right answer."

Angel stopped short. He swung back around to face Wes and the others, all of who had been hovering around Cordelia's desk pretending to work while listening to snippets of conversation from the office next door.

His gaze settled on Wes. "We have to find a way to secure my soul. Now."

To be continued...

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