Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine.
Rating: PG, I guess.
Author's Note: Okay, I know this kinda sucks, it's really short and probably makes no sense, but I felt like I had to put some of my crazy thoughts down on paper, you know?—Well, okay, not paper, but a computer screen. I'm still working on Be Srong, in case anyone's wondering, but this was just something I had to do.
Distribution: I can't think of anyone who would actually want this, but if you do, just email me and I promise to say yes.
Feedback: Please!
Timeline: post Carpe Noctem and Flooded

The rain pounded against his windshield, the wind howled, each time threatening to knock his car off the slippery road. And yet, without a care, he drove on.

The conversation had been simple:

"Buffy."—That had been mixed with shock and joy.

"Angel?!?"—Was that happiness he heard in her voice, or had that simply been a hope beyond hope?

"I…you're…we…we need to talk. In person."—His own loss for words seemed foreign to his own tongue.

"Yeah. I mean, umm, The Place?"—She had known he would know which place, without an explanation.

"I'll be there at sunset. And Buffy?"—He had to tell her.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."—She had to know.

"I know. I love you too."

He had to see her now, he was so close. She was pulling him like a magnet.

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He had said it. He had said that he loved her. She had said that she knew, but that was a lie. The second part of her response, however, had been as much the truth as she would ever tell. She had told the gang she had needed to go, and without another word, she had left. Hardly fair--she reflected. But with Angel she had always been that way--dropping everything for him. That, at least, had not changedd.

She thought back to when they had first found The Place. It had been on her first week of collage, when she had missed Angel so much that she had felt sick every time that she acknowledged the fact that he wasn't there. And, well, when he had called, they had known the feeling was mutual. They called it the plan, but IT wasn't really a plan, not really. Just a way to meet when they were really missing each other—a way to meet with no strings attached. They didn't talk about their lives in that small and secluded piece of abandoned beach that they had agreed on; all they did was hold each other, and make useless small talk that was just there for their own comfort. She was afraid, because this time, there would be talking. The lifesaver that The Place had been so many times over the last two years would vanish, as soon as they actually talked. Vanish, as though it had never really been a safe haven, and, to the rest of the world, she knew it was non-existent.

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He waited, and at seven minutes past sunset, he saw her mother's car pull up. She got out, they looked at each other straight in the eye, and he knew it would all be okay, because as far as he was concerned, he was home. Before he knew what had happened, she was in his arms, and he could feel her tears through his shirt. He could feel them walking to go sit down against a rock, never quite letting go of each other. held her, and knew what was going though her mind, because the same thing was going through his: It's been so long. "Buffy?"

"I know, I'm okay, I'm with you."

"How…how did this happen? Where were you? Why didn't you call me sooner? GOD, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH."

"I know. I'm sorry. I was in hell, and Willow brought me back."

He had known it was a lie from the second it was out of her mouth, and she knew that he knew by the look he gave her.

"I…I'm not quite sure were I was, I know that I was happy, and safe, and then I was here, because my friends felt they needed me, and therefore made up their own reasons for bringing me back. I love them, but it feels like I can't breathe, like I just can't breathe in this world. And I wasn't really living—not until now, all I was doing was just going through the motions."

This time it was her turn to feel the single tear that ran down his cheek and fell on top of her head. He couldn't believe it. How could this happen to Buffy, of all people?

"Oh my God, Buffy."—That was really all that could make it from his brain to his mouth.

He crushed her to him, and she knew she was safe--safe in the arms of the man who loved her.

Tomorrow would come, and they both would go their separate ways, but it would be alright, because right now, lost in each other's arms, they were home, and nothing else mattered.

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