Summary: Angel is a solitary man after living alone for fourteen years. He meets Buffy...can she help fight off the sadness that clouds his past, present, and future?
Rating: You watch the show? You can read this. Spoilers: None, compeltely AU
AN: Please read! My fics have been questionable (wince) as of late, but everybody has a dry spell. I hope this snaps me out of it. Came up with this idea after watching Edward Scissorhands on TBS. Very different than the movie, I promise.
AN2: The Big Hit is on hiatus because I have serious writer's block and a million exams this week.
Feedback: Please! I never get any! I'm desperate! :P
Dedication: Johnny Depp. Without Edward Scissorhands, this wouldn't exist.

A woman put her granddaughter to bed. Out the window, in the line of sight, was a large gray mansion.

"Good night, my beloved," whispered the grandmother softly..

"'Night, Grandma," said the granddaughter. "Grandma?"

"Yes, my beloved?"

"Tell me a story," requested the granddaughter, looking at the old woman with soulful brown eyes.

"It's late, I'll tell you a story some other night," replied the old woman, tucking the quilt in around the girl. She handed the little girl a stuffed pink pig.

"I'm not sleepy. Neither is Mr. Gordo."

The Grandmother smiled and sank into her rocking chair. She looked out of the window and pointed to a large gray mansion on a hill. " Do you see that mansion over there?"

"Yes."

"Well, a man used to live all alone in that mansion," said the old woman. "His name was Angel."

*

High school senior Buffy Summers and her two best friends, Willow and Xander, sat in Buffy's car one night after the movies. The car was parked at the base of the hill on Crawford Street. Atop the hill, all alone, was a large gray mansion with small windows, shuttered and dark. From the road, one could see the beautiful garden at the rear of the mansion. You could barely make out the night-blooming jasmine that trailed the garden walls.

"Okay, Buff. Time for a dare," said Willow, as she unwrapped a piece of gum.

Buffy nodded and turned down the radio. "Hit me."

Xander motioned out the window at the mansion. "I dare you to go inside the Crawford Street Mansion for twenty minutes. While in there, you have to tell me how many windows are on the top floor."

"The top floor of the creepy mansion? Where that scientist guy did his experiments on people?" screeched Willow.

"Yeah," said Xander. "You game?"

"Definitely. Buffy Summers never says no to a challenge." Buffy stepped out of the car and pulled on her black leather jacket. "See you in twenty."

Buffy moved away from the car and towards the tall, wrought iron gate, next to which were two gargoyles. The scary statues where covered in ivy that marred the faces. She continued up the dirt-laden walk until she came upon a set of smooth concrete steps.

The steps were lined with hedges that were trimmed exactly the same length and width. The only sound Buffy could hear was that of her heels hitting each step.

She reached the garden at the top of the stairs. There was a small Iron Gate that was easy to climb. Inside the garden walls was an assortment of flowers. Roses of the most beautiful shade of crimson red sat in a flowerbed to her left against a high wall. '

Sophia's Roses,' thought Buffy. On the right was a second high wall covered in night-blooming jasmine braided with ivy. Small fountains dribbled water from various spots in the wall.

In the center of the garden was a gray granite bench. Next to the bench was a large fountain that held no water in its basin. The basin was littered with dead leaves and algae. Buffy ran a hand over the edge of the fountain and her mind's eye wondered what the garden would look like during the day. Leaving her thoughts behind, she came upon a curtain of red crushed velvet instead of a door.

Silently, she pushed the curtain inside and found herself at the edge of a Grand Room. Rectangular lights hung from the ceiling, and several were sconces on the walls. A great deal of masonry was on the upper portions of the wall, the whole room a ghastly gray. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and masonry.

There was an occasional statue in a case or on a pedestal. In the center of the room was a fireplace, next to that a table lined with small candles. Farther away, still, were two leather couches. Down a hall towards the rear of the room was a winding staircase.

"Hello?" asked Buffy. She looked around the Grand Room and noticed a pair of shackles hanging from a wall. "Hello?" She turned towards the staircase. "Well, nobody's here so-"

"Hi."

Buffy, stunned, turned around. Not ten feet from her stood quite possibly the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He stood six feet tall with dark brown hair and eyes that were even darker brown than his hair. His facial features were finely chiseled; he had a strong jaw and straight, even nose. The man was shrouded all in black.

"H-hi," stammered Buffy, finally dropping her hands from her mouth.

The man looked at her. "What are you doing here?"

Buffy felt guilty for trespassing. "I'm sorry. I-we- didn't know anyone lived here."

"Well, someone does," said the man softly. "I live here." He took a small step forward.

Buffy's eyes never left him for a second. "Who are you?" she asked.

The man stopped walking. "My name is Angel."

*

Buffy noticed how Angel's voice was deep, the tone very sad and full of pain and self-hatred. She managed a small smile. "Pretty name. Mine is Buffy."

"Buffy," repeated Angel, trying it out. "I'm going to ask you again. What are you doing here, Buffy?"

"I was dared to come here and count the windows upstairs in the laboratory," said Buffy.

"Laboratory?" repeated Angel, as if he had no idea there was supposedly a laboratory upstairs. He raised his eyebrows and gave a small laugh.

"Yeah. Isn't there some crazed scientists' laboratory upstairs?" asked Buffy. She took Angel's look as a no and told him the story of Dr. Id, who performed experiments on women in his laboratory in his mansion.

He only picked young, beautiful women to perform his experiments on. Dr. Id drove them insane and let them back into society, only to have the women locked away in asylums in the prime of their life.

Buffy ran a hand through her hair.

"All except for one. Dr. Id kept one woman here. The townspeople say her name was Sophia, and that she was the most beautiful woman in Sunnydale. Dr. Id fell in love with Sophia and in turn didn't perform his mental tortures on her. Instead, Dr. Id locked her in the mansion so she wouldn't leave him. Sophia didn't love Dr. Id and she hated being imprisoned in the mansion. They say that one night she murdered Dr. Id and escaped, cutting herself on the barbed wire fence that lined the garden. Her blood spilled onto Dr. Id's white roses, turning them forever crimson."

Angel looked at Buffy and nodded. "A question for you, Buffy. If no one's been up here before- and trust me, they have not- how would they know what color my roses are?"

Buffy was silent. Her face heated up and turned red in embarrassment.

"It's not true, Buffy," said Angel with a small smile. "There's no laboratory upstairs. I'll prove it to you. Follow me." He outstretched a pale hand, his eyes pleading with Buffy's to take it. She grasped his hand and followed him up the winding staircase.

Angel grasped her hand tightly as he led her up the stairs. Buffy was the first person he had seen in a very long time, and he was already falling in love with her. She was beautiful, with blond hair and green eyes that seemed to be twenty other colors as well. He had never prayed to God before, but now he prayed that maybe she could love him back.

He pushed the large, heavy door aside. Buffy was astonished to find a large room with many pieces antique furniture. There was an early type of skylight in the ceiling, and gas lamps were attached to the walls. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases were on three of the room's four walls.

Against the fourth wall were an easel and a crate full of painting supplies. The room had paintings everywhere, many of indescribable evil and darkness. One painting was different than the rest and it caught Buffy's eye.

The painting was large; it was of a beautiful woman with long brown hair and clear blue eyes. Her facial features were delicate and ladylike. She wore a green dress and sat on a bench, trees and a garden wall behind her. The woman's lips were barely parted in a smile on a detailed face that spoke volumes about the painter, how the painter must have loved his muse very much.

"That's my mother," said Angel.

Buffy had dragged him towards the painting and was still gripping his hand. "She died when I was very little. My father painted it before he died. He passed on his love for painting to me."

"How old were you when your parents died?" asked Buffy. She turned away from the painting and faced Angel, who suddenly looked very pained.

"My mother died when I was nine, my father when I was eleven. I've lived here alone ever since," said Angel. "I'm twenty-five now."

A thick silence followed his statement.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Twenty-five? Oh, Angel. You've been alone all this time." She reached up and touched his face, her fingers barely brushing his skin. Angel just nodded and pretended not to take notice of her hand on his face.

Their moment was disrupted by a car horn.

"Oh, damn," mumbled Buffy. "I have to go."

Angel nodded and prepared himself for Buffy's departure. He was positive he'd never see her again, and he was also positive that he'd love her for the rest of his solitary life. She turned and began to walk away. Her hand gripped the solid iron doorknob.

"Come back," said Angel in a soft whisper.

Buffy turned to look at him. "If you want me to come back, I will." Without another word, she stepped out of the room and left Angel alone. She practically ran from the mansion. Once outside the iron gate, she glanced upwards at the one window she could see. For a moment, she thought Angel was staring at her from the window.

* "Buffy? Jesus! We thought you were dead!" exclaimed Xander as Buffy got into the car.

"No, *we* didn't," replied Willow rationally.

Xander rolled his eyes and said, "So, how about Dr. Id's lab? How many windows are up there? Did you see any instruments of torture? Any skeletons?"

Buffy took a moment. 'Do I tell them the truth or make something up?' She decided to make something up, making Angel her little secret.

"It was awful. Sickles and knives and chains were everywhere. There were only three windows, and they were all splattered with blood. There were bones everywhere, and the fireplace was made out of skulls."

"Yeah, right," said Xander.

"Fine, don't believe me. But you and I both know you're not man enough to go inside."

*

The next day, after school, Buffy prepared to go to the mansion. She packed up her backpack and made sure the tube of paint she had stolen from the art room was well hidden. She pulled on her leather jacket and crossed the parking lot.

"Buffy!" shouted out Xander.

Buffy sighed and got into her car. She rolled down her window. "Hi, Xand."

"Where you going?"

"Oh, uh, volunteer work. Mom decided my college application looked a little bare, so I'm helping out at the homeless shelter."

"Okay. Cool. See you at the Bronze tonight?"

"I'll do my best to make an appearance." Buffy started the engine. "Later."

Buffy drove to the mansion and hid her car behind some bushes so nobody could see it. She ran up the stairs and through the garden. She threw the curtain aside and stopped. Buffy had waited for this moment all day, and now that it was here, she wasn't sure if she could do it or not.

"Angel?" she called out.

"Hey," said Angel, appearing from the shadows. He held a book in his hand.

"Hi," said Buffy. She came towards him and stood awkwardly, not sure of what to do next.

Angel took that moment and spoke. "I'm glad you came back. I missed you."

"I missed you, too. I've known you a day and I couldn't wait to see you. How crazy is that?" asked Buffy, walking over to the leather couch. She sat down and Angel sat down on the other couch.

"It's not crazy. We're just two people who see something in each other that everyone else is lacking," explained Angel as he stared at his hands.

"You're quite the philosopher, Angel?" said Buffy. Her voice trailed off. "Do you have a last name?"

"Delaney. My name is Angel Delaney. My father's name was Irvin Delaney," explained Angel.

"I realized I didn't tell you my last name, either. My name is Buffy Anne Summers."

"Buffy Anne Summers. That's beautiful," said Angel.

Buffy laughed. "Not really. People call me Bunny all the time. I hate that."

Angel smiled at her joke and said, "You don't look like a bunny rabbit to me."

Buffy reached over and slapped his arm playfully. "Funny." She reached down and picked up her backpack. She unzipped it and placed three objects on the table. One was a tube of navy blue paint. Another was a bag of Lay's potato chips. The last item was a small mirror.

"Funny, Bunny, that rhymes," Angel said softly.

Buffy glared at him and squeezed the tube of paint in her hand.

"I stole the paint from the art room," said Buffy, pushing the tube of paint towards Angel. "I bought the chips from the cafeteria." She handed him the bag of chips.

"And the mirror?" questioned Angel, his fingertips brushing the wooden frame of the mirror.

"Have you ever seen yourself?" asked Buffy, picking up the mirror.

"No," admitted Angel. "Not in a mirror, at least. I've seen my reflection in water before."

Buffy held the mirror to his face. "Look, Angel. That's you."

Angel stared at his reflection for a moment. "I'm...I'm hideous," he finally remarked.

"What?" cried Buffy. "You're not hideous, Angel! Not at all! I think you're beautiful." She reached forward and touched his cheek with her hand. Angel placed his hand on top of hers.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," said Angel softly.

Buffy stood up, her hand still beneath his, and joined him on the couch. She swallowed hard. Angel reached out with his free hand and pulled her closer to him. Slowly, he leaned in to kiss her.

*

Buffy became lost in the moment as her mysterious stranger kissed her. She responded, returning the kiss fervently. Finally, she pulled away and ran a shaky hand through her hair.

"I have to go," she stammered. She stood up and walked towards the door.

Angel reached out. "Buffy! I didn't mean to frighten you... I didn't mean to scare you away."

Buffy paused as Angel clasped onto her wrist. She turned to face him.

"You didn't scare me away. I promise. I just...got startled. I've never felt this way about anybody before." She looked up at him hopefully.

"Me, neither."

He leaned down and kissed her again. Buffy's arms went around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. Angel's arms went around her waist and when it was over, he was smiling lightly.

"I still have to go," said Buffy, pressing her forehead against his. "I have a test to study for. I'll be back soon, I promise."

*

Two weeks flew by. Buffy spent every moment she wasn't at school with Angel. He showed her his paintings and helped her study for exams. She brought him a TV and together they watched old movies. Their relationship grew more intense everyday.

Something was bothering Angel. There was something he hadn't told Buffy yet about his past. He knew that if he told Buffy, it would probably chase her away. He didn't doubt her love- although she had never announced it, he knew she loved him.

It was a rainy Thursday afternoon when Buffy stopped by. Angel had decided to tell her about his past. She flew into his arms and gave him a kiss.

"Oh, god, I missed you!" exclaimed Buffy, pulling away from him.

"I missed you, too," said Angel. "C'mon. We need to sit down."

"Angel? What is it?"

Angel sighed and held onto her hand. "There's something that you need to know about my past."

"Baby, what is it? You can tell me anything," Buffy said, cupping his cheek with her hand.

"I know. This is just so hard for me."

Buffy grew even more concerned.

"The story about Doctor Id? The one you told me when we first met?"

"Yeah?" asked Buffy, not sure where the story was headed.

"He- the story- is true. Doctor Id was my father." *

Buffy stared at him for a moment. Fear coursed through her veins. She stood up shakily and ran a hand through her hair.

"I-I have to go," Buffy said, fearfully backing toward the exit.

Angel stood up and outstretched an arm, reaching for her. "Please, Buffy, let me explain."

"Are you going to lock me in here? Are you going to make me insane?" asked Buffy, backing closer towards the velvet curtain. Her hand gripped the curtain tightly, but she couldn't bring herself to flee.

Angel shook his head and looked down, hiding the shame and pain from her, the woman he desperately loved. He softly began to speak.

"My mother was the famous Sophia. She was only a young girl when she met my father; that's why she wasn't allowed to live. People thought it was immoral and Father was embarrassed and ashamed for loving her. She's the woman in the painting upstairs.

"She didn't die like I told you she had. She ran away. Father had fallen asleep and she sneaked out of the mansion. This was sixteen or seventeen years ago. I stayed up and waited for her to come back and she never did."

"And I hate her," Angel said in a barely comprehensible tone. "Because she left me here."

Buffy looked up at him, studying him intently for a moment. She took note that he always hunched slightly but not because of his height. She finally understood his posture. Angel was ashamed and guilty for what his Father had done, something that was not his fault. She resisted the urge to hold him, to run her fingers through his dark hair and tell him that she loved him.

Angel took a deep breath. "What you heard about Dr. Id- My father- isn't completely false. He *was* a scientist."

"You *lied* to me, Angel?"

"NO! God, Buffy, no! I would *never* lie to you! I didn't lie!"

He continued: "Don't you understand? You're the first person I've seen in *fourteen* years! I didn't want you to know because I was afraid that you'd run away and leave me alone. Loneliness is just about the worst thing there is. I should know- it's been me and a big mansion for almost half my life. I saw you and I *fell in love with you* and god help me but I couldn't tell you about my Father!"

Buffy looked at him and saw the tears that were running down his pale face. He lifted his eyes to hers. She silently stepped forward and brushed his tears away, then stepped back making herself inaccessible. Angel silently looked down at the floor.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?" Buffy asked softly, her words like salt in an open wound.

"Because sometimes the truth is worse," Angel told her, still not looking up.

"What do you mean? Your mother wasn't imprisoned here, and your father wasn't a crazed scientist," Buffy said.

"No," Angel admitted. "But my father *was* a murderer and rapist."

*

Angel's father was a murderer and a rapist? Buffy could barely believe her ears.

"This just keeps getting more complicated," Buffy commented. She slid down along the wall and sat on the floor. She ran a hand through her hair.

Angel leaned up against the couch and looked at her.

"I don't really know a whole lot," Angel admitted. "I know that my grandfather built this mansion seventy years ago. I know that my grandfather beat my father and Father turned those feelings on others. He *was* crazy, mentally handicapped. His mind fed him the need for revenge; murder and he followed it.

"My father would bring women here- kidnap them. He'd rape them and murder them. There's a plot somewhere on the property. I've only been there once; there were about thirty graves there. My father killed thirty women and was going to kill my mother, but she escaped."

Buffy sat silently. Angel continued.

"Can you understand why I didn't want you to know? I'm the child of a kidnapper, murderer, and rapist. I'm ashamed of who I am and where I came from. You...should probably go," Angel said, changing topics suddenly. His voice strained.

"I love you, Buffy, and who I am makes me undeserving. You should just go before you get hurt."

"No."

Buffy stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "I'm not leaving you, Angel. I love you, too, and loving someone means you weather the good *and* the bad. I'm not going to give up on you." She took several steps and encased him in her arms. "I *love you! * Do you hear me?"

Angel slowly nodded. He lowered his lips to her crown. "I love you, too."

Buffy took his hand. "If...if you love me...show me."

Angel looked startled when he got her meaning. "What? Buffy, no! It would be wrong...I'd be taking advantage...you'd feel awful-" He was silenced with a finger to his lips.

"You're scared," Buffy told him wisely. "You've never made love before." Angel's silence was a confirmation. "Neither have I. I love you, and if you don't want to right now, I can wait. That's what love is about." She looked at him, and saw he was contemplating the idea.

He took her hand and said, "I love you. I want to show you. I...I'm afraid I won't be good."

Buffy laughed.

"You know, I would have no idea what the standard for 'good' is. But it doesn't matter- it has to be because we share love and that's what it's about."

Without another word, Angel led her to the bedroom.

*

Angel smiled down at her. "Hi."

Buffy grinned. "Hi." She kissed his shoulder. "I love you."

"Yeah, I know," teased Angel. "You say it enough."

Buffy feigned hurt. "Well, fine. I won't say it at all." She turned away from him, but her shoulders were silently shaking. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, her back against his chest.

"You don't have to," sighed Angel. "I already know."

Buffy laughed and turned so they were face to face. She glanced behind him and at the clock on the wall, which read six-thirty. Her eyes opened in shock and she pushed away from Angel.

"I have to go! I'm late for dinner."

"When will you be back?" Angel asked, sitting up as she pulled on her clothing. She leaned across the bed and gave him a quick, gentle kiss.

"Soon. I'll see if I can tell Mom a huge ol' fib and sneak over here to see my lover."

Angel laughed. "I'll take you to a movie. Before or after we make love- preferably not during; I like to be clothed while in public."

"You look cute naked," Buffy told him.

"You look cuter."

Buffy's face broke into a genuine smile. "I have to go. I'll see you soon." She touched his hand and left the mansion.

Joyce Summers was not a happy woman. Buffy was late for dinner. She had been feeding her lines all week about Xander, Willow, or her senior project. Willow, being Buffy's best friend, often went along with the lie. She breathed a sigh of relief when Buffy pulled into the driveway.

"Where the *hell* have you been, Buffy Anne?" demanded Joyce, holding open the front door for her daughter.

"At work," Buffy lied. "I've been lying to cover up the fact that I got a job. It's a dinky, low-paying job at the mall, but I'm making some money for college."

"Speaking of college, I sent out the transcripts you told me to," Joyce said with relief. The two women headed into the dining room, where dinner was set out.

"Thanks. Oh! I talked to Will; I'm going over to her place tonight. Study jam for Wednesday's final," Buffy told her mother. The two women sat down.

Joyce looked at her daughter. "All right. As long as you're studying."

Buffy nodded. "I am. I just gotta eat quick, I told Will I'd be there around seven."

Joyce just looked at her daughter. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Buffy assured her mother. "What would be wrong?"

Joyce spoke, "I don't know. You just look..." She shrugged.

Buffy stood up and put her napkin on her plate. She stood up and practically ran out the door.

"She is just *so* weird," Joyce commented, shaking her head. She looked back down at her plate and dug around her salad. She speared a green vegetable and held it up for closer inspection.

"Ew...olive."

*

Buffy practically sprinted to the mansion. It was cold outside, and she couldn't help but shiver. She could feel the Goosebumps racing across her skin as she hurried down the sidewalk towards the mansion. Its massive height loomed in front of her, and she could see the soft light streaming from Angel's window. If she had looked before she had met him, Buffy would have realized that Angel's bedroom light was always on; he thought of it as a homing beacon for his mother.

She slowly passed through the garden, her eyes studying the crimson roses and night-blooming jasmine. She had convinced Angel to fix the fountain and now it bubbles over, gushing ever so slightly. She hesitated for a moment by the velveteen curtains. She saw the light pouring from behind the swaying cloth.

Buffy pushed it aside and stepped into the Grand Room. She had only known Angel for several weeks, but she could see her influence in the Grand Room. Several magazines and personal items lay around the large room, and Buffy was comforted to see a sweatshirt of hers ( from Santa Cruz High School) was draped over the back of the couch.

"Hey," said a voice.

Buffy spun on her heel and saw Angel standing by the entryway from the garden. He held a crimson rose in his hand.

"Hi," Buffy said. She motioned to the rose. "It's beautiful."

"For you," Angel said, handing her the flower. Their fingers brushed as he handed her the rose.

Electricity shot through Buffy's body and she realized she wanted Angel. Again. She clenched the rose in her hand and didn't pay any attention to the thorns digging into her hand. She backed down the hallway and towards the master bedroom.

"Movie?" she stammered, her breathing growing ragged. She clenched the rose even harder and blood trickled down her hand and dripped onto the floor. Angel pressed her against the wall and kissed her. He released her and grabbed her hand.

"No," he said, just as breathless as Buffy was. "Movie later." He set her on the bed, crushing the flower beneath her body. The scent of roses filled the air. "Love you."

Buffy sighed and said, "Forever."

*

The Sun Cinema stood right in the middle of Main Street. Its green neon letters blared in the darkness. A marquee advertised and old black-and-white movie. Buffy and Angel walked out of the theatre, his arm protectively around her waist. He clamped onto her in terror.

"Angel," Buffy said. "The movie isn't even over yet."

"I know," Angel told her ashamedly. "But..this is just too much for me. I thought I could...could do this and I can't."

"Do what?" Buffy demanded softly, turning in his embrace to face him. He buried his face in her neck and began to speak in a muffled way.

Angel fought tears as he breathed in the scent of her strawberry shampoo. "Be around people. I only left the mansion to get food and paint. I made sure I went at night so no one would see me. This is just so frightening...I'm so scared."

Buffy ran a hand through his hair. "You're scared, and that's okay. But, Angel, I'm here with you. I love you- and if these people knew you, they'd love you, too. I promise." Angel lifted his face from her hair and kissed her neck. Buffy leaned into him and arched her neck. Her hand went up to twine in his dark hair.

"Buffy?" spoke up a voice.

Buffy froze. She opened her eyes and saw Willow, Willow's boyfriend Oz, and Xander standing outside of the theatre.

"See, I told you it was Buffy," Xander said.

"Shut up!" hissed Willow, smacking Xander with her box of popcorn. Oz stood silently with the pair, not wanting to make more of a scene.

"Hi, guys," Buffy said, regaining her composure. She pushed Angel away slightly and didn't catch his wounded look. "Willow, Xander, Oz, this is Angel. Angel, these are my friends."

Angel silently nodded, clutching Buffy's hand for dear life. Finally, he mumbled a 'hello'.

"Wow, quite a taciturn guy you got there, Buff," Xander noted bitterly.

"Jealous much, Xand?" Willow hissed under her breath. She turned to Angel and smiled warmly. Angel instantly liked her. He became more comfortable and he tried to remember what Buffy had told him before they had started kissing.

Buffy looked up at Angel and said, "Come on, baby. Let's go. It's late and I'm tired."

"Okay," Angel said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "Nice to meet you all." They were gone without another word.

Back at the mansion, Buffy hurriedly made Angel's bed. "I should have thought about them being there. Just my luck...they had to show up for your first time in public."

Angel tucked in a sheet. "Don't worry about them, Buffy."

Buffy looked up and caught his gaze. She cleared her throat and continued to make his bed. She looked around for her bra that he had hastily thrown somewhere. Buffy couldn't find it and decided not to wear it to the movies. She found it on a lampshade by the door- halfway across the room. She plucked it from the lampshade and put it back on Angel's pillow.

"It's just that...god! Could Xander have *been* a bigger ass hole?" Buffy asked. "I wasn't ready to explain to them about you, I'm still not ready."

Angel abruptly quit making his side of the bed. "Are you ashamed of me?"

Buffy looked up in surprise.

"What? Angel, no, never. I just wanted to keep you a secret for a while; I don't need Twenty Questions every time I go out." She finished making Angel's bed and took her bracelets from his bedside table.

"I'll come and see you soon," Buffy said. "I love you."

Angel stood silently and watched her leave.

*

*

The next morning, Buffy was bombarded at school. She was wearing her warm Santa Cruz High Baseball Sweater she took from Angel's. She had grabbed it the night before as she left. She pulled the sleeve up to her nose and inhaled the scent of the mansion. Xander, Willow, Oz, and Cordelia were grilling her the minute she stepped out of her car. She barely got past senior circle and then they were all desperate for details.

"So, who's the hottie?" Cordelia demanded.

"He looks too old for you," Xander warned.

"I want *details* Buffy!" shouted Willow.

"Morning," Oz said.

Buffy threw her hands up and headed down the hall to her locker. She hurriedly spun her combination and pulled out her English books for first period. She sighed and looked at her friends.

"Guys. It's *my* love life. First word *my*, third word *life!?"

The warning bell ran and Willow alone accompanied Buffy to their English class. Buffy turned to Willow and said, "His name is Angel. I met him the night you guys dared me to go up to the Crawford Street Mansion."

"WHAT?" shouted Willow as she sat down in her seat.

"He lives there alone," Buffy said, "he's twenty-five and I was the first person he'd seen up close or talked to in fourteen years."

"He seems nice," Willow told Buffy. "And attractive."

"He *is* nice. And *very* attractive. And there's...more," Buffy said. "Yesterday...before we saw you guys...I slept with him."

"You did *what*?" yelped Willow.

Mr. Roberts, the AC English teacher, entered the room and began to sort his papers. Willow slid across her seat and leaned across the aisle so her face was near Buffy's.

"You lost your... *you know*?"

"My virginity, Willow. And, yes, I did. And so did he," Buffy explained. She bent over and began to go through her backpack in search of a pen. Triumphantly, she pulled a blue felt-tip pen from her bag.

"He did, too? He was a twenty-five year old virgin?" Willow repeated in shock.

Cordelia, who had sat down behind Willow, asked, "Who's a twenty-five year old virgin?"

"No one," Buffy said with a silencing glare to her best friend. "Anyway, it was wonderful. I told him I loved him, and we made love."

"That's beautiful," said Willow.

"We're talking about Mr. Sex on a Stick they saw with you last night at the movies, right?" Cordy asked.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Oh my god! He was a virgin!" screamed out Cordelia.

Mr. Roberts looked up from his papers with a raised eyebrow. Cordelia blushed and flipped her hair back, then turned to the conversation.

"Look. It's not important. Angel and I love each other."

"Buffy!" exclaimed Willow in a concerned whisper. "Did you use protection?"

Buffy didn't say a word as fear hit her suddenly. "Oh, no. We didn't even think about it. Either time."

"Not a smart move, Buff," Cordelia said as the bell rang. "But on a different note- was he as good as he looks?"

"Shut *up*, Cordelia," Willow and Buffy groaned together. *

Buffy made her way up the long walkway to Angel's Mansion. After the fiasco that was their date the night before, she was positive that Angel was more than hesitant about making a public appearance again. Xander had made snotty comments all day and Cordelia was desperate for details about Angel in bed. Mum was the word- Buffy was keeping her private life private.

"Boo!" shouted a voice. Two strong arms grabbed Buffy around the waist.

Buffy let out a giggle and grabbed her attacker, playfully shoving him against the garden wall. She gave him a gentle kiss and said, "Hi."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to surprise me like that," Buffy teased, running a finger along his jaw. She remembered why she was there and let her finger fall. "Come on, we need to go inside. There's something we need to talk about."

Angel dutifully followed his lover inside; the possibilities of what she was about to say were endless. He clutched her warm hand with his cool one and they sat down in the Grand Room. Buffy edged away from him and looked up at Angel cautiously.

"We didn't use protection," she stated simply. "And now there's a chance I might be pregnant."

"Oh." Angel sighed with relief.

"Oh? *Oh*? Is all you have to say? Why aren't you freaking out?" Buffy asked, both angry and annoyed.

"Well, I'd be so happy if we had a baby," Angel told her, his voice heavy with emotion. "It'd be beautiful."

Buffy nodded and her outward appearance was tranquil. Inside, she was running wild with fear.

"I know it would be. But I'm only eighteen years old. I don't want children yet, Angel, not if I can help it."

Angel looked down in shame. "Sorry. I just...I always wanted to be a better man than my father was."

"You're already a better man than he was," Buffy said. "You're warm and caring and loving, which is something that you've implied your father was not." She reached across the space between them and clasped his hand. "And you'd make a wonderful father."

"I just want you to know that whatever happens, I'm here for you," Angel reassured her, gently rubbing her hand with his thumb. "Always."

Buffy sighed and said, "I really needed to hear that." She squeezed Angel's hand and he squeezed back. She stood up and crawled onto his lap. He slung his arms around her waist and she leaned into his chest. She closed her eyes and sank further into him.

Angel sat up in alarm, trying not to dump Buffy onto the floor from his lap. He noticed the woman in the doorway and fought the urge to flee.

"Hello, Angel. I'm back."

*

Buffy opened her eyes. In front of the gently swaying velvet curtain was a woman with long, straight brown hair that was streaked with gray. She had the clearest blue eyes Buffy had ever seen. She wore a simple black dress.

"Is that..." Buffy started.

"It's my mother," Angel finished. "Stand up, baby."

Angel gently deposited Buffy on her feet and she stood her petite form barely a shadow in front of his own. Angel rose and stood at full height; he was now a good five inches taller than his mother was.

Sophia studied her twenty-five year old son with scrutiny. Her clear eyes traveled down his form to study the woman that stood in front of her only child. They were lovers, Sophia decided. She could tell by the way that he cradled her, the way he tried to protect her. Angel had obviously received some of her traits; his father was never that loving.

"Aren't you glad to see me?" Sophia finally asked.

"No." Angel's voice was icy and still. "I haven't seen you in years."

Sophia's face fell. She squinted at her son. "You've grown to be quite handsome, Angel."

Angel grinned down at Buffy and said, "That's what Buffy says."

Sophia bit out her son's lover's name in distaste. "Buffy." She once again scanned the young woman's form, noticing how this "Buffy" molded perfectly against her little boy.

"Buffy," Sophia said again. "Buffy what?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Buffy Summers of Sunnydale. I'm Angel's girlfriend. His best friend."

"She's my world," Angel told his mother icily. "A world you're not a part of."

"How can you say that?" Sophia cried.

"Because you *left me here* with him! You knew he might kill me and you still left me here! I hate you, Mom! When Father died I was alone for *fourteen* years! Can you imagine being alone for that long?" Angel asked. His voice was small and breaking, as if he was reduced to being a little boy again.

Buffy placed a hand on Angel's arm supportively. "Why are you back?"

Sophia eyed Buffy with contempt. "I missed my boy."

"No," Angel said coldly, "you didn't. You want something. If you missed me, maybe you wouldn't have waited fourteen years!"

"Lord, Angel! Grow up, for God's sake! You're a man now!" yelled Sophia.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Angel turned away from his yelling mother. He started to flee down the hallway and up the stairs. Buffy followed suit. Soon, Sophia was trailing the pair. The trio made it into the attic.

Angel sprinted across the room to the picture of Sophia that was still hanging on the wall. He grabbed the canvas and his fingers gripped it tight. He brought it down on his knee and the canvas ripped. His black-clad knee was sticking right through Sophia's chest.

"Take your fucking painting and get out!" yelled Angel, tossing the painting towards his mother. Sophia lifted her hands to shield her head.

"Please, don't do this!" Buffy pleaded. "Baby, please, don't."

"You left me here, all alone!" screamed Angel, ignoring Buffy's pleas. "I was afraid my father was going to kill me! I was afraid to sleep, I thought he'd smother me with my own pillow!" Tears were streaming down the man's cheeks. His voice became very small as he asked, "Why did you leave me, Mommy?"

Sophia set the ripped canvas aside and crossed the room. She touched her son's broad shoulder.

"Liam, shush now, sweetheart," Sophia said, running a hand through her son's hair. "I'm sorry, but I had to leave. I was going to come back and get you, but I...I was afraid. If I had known that Irvin had died and that you were all alone, I would have come back to get you. Please, Liam, my boy, forgive me."

"Why'd you come back now?" Buffy asked, her eyes never leaving Angel's huddled form.

"I wanted to get the rest of my things from the mansion. I never thought I'd find Angel here." She turned to her son. "Do you forgive me, Liam?"

Angel nodded slowly, and sucked up his tears. "I don't forgive you. Those fourteen years were hell on earth."

Buffy added softly, "But you're not alone anymore, Angel. You have me."

* Angel sat inside his bedroom, the velvet curtains tightly drawn. He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples with his index fingers. He had stormed out of the attic after the confrontation with his mother, leaving Buffy alone with her. He couldn't conceal his feelings of anger and betrayal from her, and he couldn't fight the angry burning in his stomach.

He could hear Buffy moving around in the Grand Room. He wanted so badly to explain that inside he was still a little boy, lost and alone. Angel didn't think he was the man Buffy saw him as. There was a lot he didn't know, a lot he didn't understand. He hadn't gone to school in his entire life, and everything he learned was straight out of books in the attic.

Angel twisted the silver Claddagh ring around the middle finger of his right hand. It had been his Grandfather's, Angel had found it in her jewelry box once when he visited him when he was little. He had reached into the large mahogany box that was his grandmother's and pulled out the silver ring, running a little, grubby finger along the engravings. He slipped it into his pocket unseen and left the room. It was the last time he ever saw his grandparents and the only time he stole something.

"Angel?" called a soft voice. "Angel?" The voice was closer now.

Angel continued to look at his feet and did not respond. He watched as Buffy entered the room and watched her feet as they walked closer to him.

"Hi. How are you doing?" Buffy asked, touching his knee gently. There were specks of dried paint on his knee. Angel remained silent. "I have to go home now. My mother is probably worried sick. I didn't tell her about you." She paused. "I'll be back tomorrow, Angel."

Angel silently nodded.

"I love you," Buffy said as she edged near the door.

Her lover sat silently in the darkness and did not reply, even though every fiber in his body wanted to scream out how he felt. He couldn't, though. He had to back away. Angel told her she should never have gotten involved and now she was tangled in the web of lies that was his past.

Buffy slowly headed home, dreading what would happen when she reached her house. She was planning on telling her mother about Angel; Buffy was tired of sneaking around. Angel *was* her lover, and Joyce deserved every right to know. Buffy reached the kitchen door and peered through the glass. She could see her mother talking to someone on the phone. Hesitantly, she stepped inside.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you very much," Joyce said, hanging up the phone.

"Mom? Who was that?" Buffy asked as she entered through the kitchen door. Her mother clutched an orange-and-brown dishcloth in her hand. Her knuckles were pale. "Ohmygod, who died?"

"Buffy, that was Xander. I think there's something you need to tell me," Joyce said.

*

Alarm rushed through Buffy's veins, and she began to panic. She fearfully glanced up at her mother. "About what?"

"I understand you've been sleeping with a man, someone older, named Angel."

Buffy exhaled and slowly nodded her head. "I have been, Mom. I love him, and he loves me."

"Buffy Anne, do you not understand how many risks there are?" Joyce asked, flinging the dishtowel away.

"Yes, Mom, I do! But I'm also eighteen years old. If you knew Angel, maybe you'd understand about our relationship."

"Why don't you tell me about this Angel character?" Joyce challenged.

"He lives in the Crawford Street Mansion, the creepy one that the deranged scientist lived in. Before you say anything-, it was all a lie. But Angel's parents died and left him alone in the Mansion. He's been alone for fourteen years."

"How old is he?" Joyce asked.

"Twenty-five," Buffy replied.

"I don't want you seeing him anymore. If he's been alone all that time, and he coaxed you into bed, then I don't want you seeing him!"

"Mom he didn't-"

"Be quiet! As long as you live in my house and I pay the bills, you will stay away from Angel! Do you understand me, young lady?"

A small noise came from the back of Buffy's throat. She never replied to her mother. She was too busy running up the stairs so her mother wouldn't see her cry. Once she was inside her bedroom she collapsed on the floor and began to sob. *

Two weeks passed. Buffy hadn't seen Angel since the night that Joyce had forbidden Buffy from seeing Angel. As all this began happening, Buffy began getting college acceptance letters in the mail. They came from Duke, Northwestern, IU, Miami, and University of Nevada. Buffy brought in the mail and set the stack of envelopes on the island in the kitchen. Her eyes caught on something pink taped to the tile counter.

She looked down. There was one word on the piece of pink paper.

"Upstairs," Buffy read softly. With a frown, she slipped off her windbreaker and walked towards the stairs. Flower petals lined the stairs, one on each step. They smelled of Jasmine- night-blooming jasmine. Buffy grinned as the familiar smell enveloped her. She carefully picked up each petal and gathered them in her hand. The path led to her bedroom door, which was ajar.

Buffy hesitantly pushed the door open. Angel sat on her bed with twelve perfectly trimmed roses. He wore a pair of black pants and a white wife-beater. His hair was wet and dripping.

"Did you use my shower?" Buffy asked with a grin. She set the delicate petals on her dresser and then slowly approached her lover.

"No," Angel lied. "It rained." He grinned at her. "Cross my heart." He held his hand out to her, and Buffy accepted his large hand and put it over her small one.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy asked. "My mother told me I couldn't see you anymore."

"Yes," Angel acknowledged. "But she didn't tell me I couldn't see you." He kissed her forehead gently and pulled her onto his lap.

"My lover is so sneaky!" Buffy teased, reaching towards the hem of his shirt. She pulled on the hem and pulled the shirt upwards and off. As she reached for his pants zipper, she paused. She got off of his lap and locked the bedroom door. Angel grabbed her and laid her gently on the bed.

"I don't know when I'll be able to see you again," Angel told her softly. He reached up and unhooked her bra. "Yeah?" Buffy asked as she worked on his zipper.

"Let's make this one last," suggested Angel, pulling her close to him.

An hour later, the two lay in Buffy's bed, talking in mere whispers. They waited for a noise that would signify Joyce's arrival.

"Where's your mother?" Buffy asked as she rolled over to prop her elbow up on Angel's chest. "Gone," Angel said, moving a stray hair out of her eyes. "After you left the mansion, she apologized again and ran off. It's all she's ever known how to do and I can't say I'm not surprised."

Buffy grimaced and kissed his chest. "You know that I'm sorry. But...you can have my mother if you want her!" She grinned.

"No, baby, that's okay," said Angel, returning the smile. He paused and frowned.

"What is it?"

Angel brought a finger to her lips. He heard the car door slam.

"I have to go," Angel said quickly. He bolted out of Buffy's bed and began pulling on his clothes. Buffy took his cue and began to throw on whatever was nearest- a gray t-shirt and flannel PJ pants. He lingered near her bedroom window for a moment.

"Buffy?!" called Joyce.

"In a minute!" shouted Buffy in reply. She pushed her bedroom window up so Angel could climb out.

"I love you," Angel said, kissing her quickly. He slipped something into her palm.

"I love you." She looked at him, turned away, and then left her bedroom. She never heard him leave.

"Hi, Mom," Buffy said in the depressed, emotionless tone she had been using for several weeks.

Joyce held up the envelopes from various colleges. "They're all out of state colleges. Good."

"Good? I thought you'd want me stay here," Buffy said in confusion. 'No, no, no! Please, God, don't let her say what she's about to say.'

"I want you to accept one of the applications. One preferably far away from here and...that man."

"Mom, please, you don't understand! I love Angel! What is it that bothers you so much?" asked Buffy, her chest rising and falling in anger.

"He's too old for you Buffy! His family has a criminal past, and I don't want you around him!"

Buffy started to cry and scream. The words came out in a strangled way. "Mom, please don't do this! Angel's the only-the only one I've ever loved. He's the only one that I'll ever love! I'm lost without him! Please!"

Joyce raised a heavily ringed hand to her daughter's cheek. Her eyes were angry and pupils small.

"Get out of my sight, Buffy Anne Summers! If you don't get out of this town and away from that man, I swear to god that I'll kill that lover of yours! Do you hear me?"

"Yes!" sobbed Buffy. "Yes!" She raised her hands up to her face. "Please, please don't hit me again!"

Joyce lowered her hand. "Go to your room."

Buffy did as she was told and climbed the stairs to her room. It was only then did she notice that there was still something in her hand. She unfolded her fingers and looked at the silver ring in her hand. A claddagh ring; it was Angel's. Buffy moved to her jewelry box and pulled out a chain. She slid the ring onto the chain and clasped the chain around her neck. She grabbed the ring tightly and closed her eyes, silent tears running down her cheeks.

*

One month later

Buffy slowly walked the weed-ridden, concrete path to the mansion. Folded over her arm was her graduation gown, in her car were her bags. As if on her way to execution, she passed through the garden whose sights and smells were forever emblazoned in her mind. In a robot-like manner she pushed the velvet curtain aside and silently stepped into the mansion, making not a footfall.

She spied Angel sitting on the leather couch by the fireplace, his hand running over a sheet of drawing paper. She could see that he was using charcoal, and she looked at the lines and shapes his deft and talented fingers were making.

"Angel."

The man in question looked up from his sketch. He slowly set it on the coffee table and walked over to her. Buffy sighed as Angel encased her in his arms and she fought back the urge to cry.

"I'm-I'm sorry I couldn't come back," Buffy said. "The night you came it all fell apart. Mom hit me after telling me to leave town and not come back. She doesn't want me near you so I'm leaving tonight for college."

"But-doesn't college start in the fall?" Angel asked in confusion.

"It does," Buffy agreed. "But IU has some summer programs that Mom wants me to enroll in, so I'm leaving."

"Tonight?" Angel asked. "It's not enough time."

Buffy reached for her necklace, which held his ring. She played with the circle, her fingers tracing the crown, hands, and heart for the millionth time. "I know it's not. But this was the only night I could get away. Mom is out late at an art convention."

"When do you leave for Indiana?" asked Angel. His hand hovered near her waist, not sure of what to do. He maintained their distance.

"In three hours," Buffy said. "I came for goodbye."

"No," Angel said. "We don't say goodbye."

"You're right," Buffy agreed. "Angel?"

"Yes?"

"Make love to me. Give me something to remember you by."

Angel took her hand and led her to the master bedroom, thinking about anything but the sand running out of their hourglass.

Later on, the pair stood next to Buffy's car. The engine hummed and the headlights beamed brightly into the night. Angel held Buffy close to him, memorizing every curve, every smell, and every strand of hair. Even if he never saw her again, he wanted this moment to remember her by.

"I have to go now," Buffy said. She reached for the car door. Angel just nodded.

"I love you," Angel said softly. "I always have. I always will."

"Love you, too. Please, Angel, go on with your life. I promise that someday I'll come back to Sunnydale. I don't really expect you to wait for me."

"I will wait until the earth turns to a cinder and forever after that."

Angel watched as Buffy got into her car and drove away. He turned around and headed into the mansion. From his pocket he pulled a thin silver bracelet that he never got the chance to giver her. It read 'Forever. He clenched the chain in his hand and sank to the floor.

*

(Five years later)

Buffy Summers sat in the dorm room she shared with Faith Martin. Faith had already packed up and had moved in with her boyfriend Spike. Buffy was packing up the last of her things. She had earned her degree in Psychology and was returning to Sunnydale to get her doctorate, her mother's opinion be damned.

She reached up to grab something off of her desk and knocked over a picture frame. She bent over to pick it up. Turning it over, she realized it was a picture of her and Angel at the Prom. Buffy had turned it around to stop thinking about him.

Buffy had only seen him once, when she came home for Thanksgiving her freshman year at Indiana University. They had made love all afternoon and evening, and then she left him. She planned to see him again, but things just hadn't panned out. Things changed her junior year, when she met Scott Hope.

Scott was a fellow junior who had transferred from Northwestern. He and Buffy had hit it off and Scott had fallen in love with her. Buffy loved Scott but she didn't *love* him, not how she still loved Angel. When she closed her eyes at night it wasn't Scott she dreamed of, it was Angel.

But Scott, too, was just a memory that was beginning to fade.

"Hey! B!" shouted a voice.

Faith and Spike, who announced their arrival, ripped Buffy out of her thoughts.

"Hey, guys," Buffy said with a smile. "Ready to help me move back to California?"

"Yeah," Spike said. He flexed a muscle. "Now or never, Sweet-Ass."

"Could you *please* stop calling me that?" Buffy asked with a laugh.

"It's not his fault you got drunk and pole-danced in the middle of the Quad after we won the NCAA Championship!" Faith teased. "And, in the process, mooned half of the basketball team!"

Buffy blushed a deep red. "Hey! I had more dates that semester than you have had in your entire life!" She grinned at Faith and shoved a box at her. "Come on, guys, let's go. I have somewhere I gotta be."

"Oh, yeah? Where's that?" Spike asked.

"Home," Buffy said. "I'm going home."

*

She peered through the slit between the curtain and the doorframe. The object of her attention sat on fireplace mantle, reading a book. Buffy was surprised to find it was a book that she read her freshman year in college. Could he have gone to school?

Buffy stood, studying his still finely chiseled features. He had grown even more beautiful than Buffy remembered. Gone was the last hint of youthfulness, his face (as well as his body, she suspected) had taken on the full form of a man. Buffy couldn't get enough of it. Summoning her courage, she stepped into the Grand Room.

"I went away to college five years ago. I was in love when I left, and I was in love when I came home. In the years between, I met another man." Buffy paused dramatically and Angel's head snapped to see her. His jaw opened and he sat in silence.

"This other man's name was Scott Hope. He was in love with me. I thought I was in love with him. Then, one day, I found a ring in my desk drawer. It was the ring my first love had given me. That ring brought everything back and I realized I was still in love with him."

"Scott asked me to marry him."

There was a tense silence. Angel's dark, chocolate pools of emotion bored into her.

"I refused. I told him there was a man I loved waiting for me. I came home to that man, if he'd take me." Angel stood up and ran across the Grand Room. "Oh, god, Buffy, I didn't think you were ever coming home! I missed you so much! I love you so much! Oh, god, never leave me again!"

"Not if I can help it," Buffy admitted, squeezing him just as tightly. "Angel Delaney?"

"Yeah?" asked Angel, kissing her lips quickly after her replied.

"Marry me."

"I thought I was supposed to be the one to ask that," Angel teased. "But, yes."

"Come with me to the bedroom," Buffy said, pulling on his hand. "I want to introduce you to Sweet-Ass Summers."

"Should I be concerned?" Angel asked, his voice echoing down the hallway as Buffy dragged him.

"No. The IU Basketball team loved her. You should, too."

"THE IU BASKETBALL TEAM?"

(Crash)

(Bang)

"Angel, baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

(Beat)

"The *entire* IU Basketball team?"

Please end me feedback...please??? :P Do I sound desperate? Cause, I REALLY, REALLY AM!

Send feedback to Aurora

Back to the Fanfiction Archive