Disclaimer: We all know who owns them, meaning I don't.
Spoilers: Um. 'The Gift' and 'There's no place like Plrtz Grbl.'
Summary: The obligatory 'Angel's reaction to Willow's news' fic.
Rating: G anyone can read this.
Distribution: On the small chance anyone actually wants this, then help yourselves, just tell me where it's going.
Authors note: Big thanks go to Gem for all her wonderful help and encouragement with this !!!!
Feedback: My first ever fic so please tell me what you think, but try to be gentle...< g >

"It's Buffy.."

Despite Angel's soft voice the words seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet that had descended over the lobby of the hotel. Eyes glazed with tears Willow nodded almost imperceptibly.

"When's the funeral?" Angel didn't need the words saying aloud to know what had happened. He could already feel it, saying it would just make it all too...real? He almost laughed; because of course this was all a joke.

"Angel I'm sorry but..we.well we didn't want to wait. You know, in case." Willow's voice trailed off but he knew what she was going to say. No of course, they couldn't just leave the slayer's body lying around for anyone to take a poke at. That would be wrong.

" I see. Of course." Angel's voice was almost robotic, the words barely registering before he spoke. " Thank you for coming." His mouth curving into a cheap imitation of a smile, all he could manage, he moved slowly across the lobby to where Willow still stood. Taking her warm hands in his cold ones, colder now, he bent, gently brushing his lips to her cheek, speaking softly in her ear. "I'm sorry for your loss Willow, she was."

Voice breaking off Angel didn't know what to say. She was a wonderful person? She was one of a kind? She was special? She'll be missed? She was my heart, my soul mate, my life? Somehow the former all seemed clichéd and trite and he knew Willow would not care to hear the latter. Instead he straightened, leaving Willow to finish the sentence how she chose. Giving her another small smile, her hands a gentle squeeze, he stepped away turning to where his friends still stood. Cordelia and Wesley's faces reflecting a mix of shock and sorrow, for who he wasn't sure; Fred and Gunn were just looking confused.

" It's been a long couple of days, I'm going to bed. You guys should all go home and do the same, take a few days off." Too late, Angel realized he was no longer the 'boss'. Sighing he decided Wesley probably wouldn't mind this once. Instead of correcting himself, he turned once again, heading to the stairs and the solace of his bed.

" Angel!" Cordelia's sharp voice stopped him and he turned back, "Don't you want to.." She stopped, seeming to struggle for words and gestured weakly in his general direction.

" Right, of course" he said, smacking his forehead and giving her an apologetic smile. "Can you fix Fred up for me? Maybe she could stay with you for a couple of days if she wants some company? Or you can fix her a room here, whatever she would prefer. Ok?" He smiled again as Cordelia just looked at him as though he had grown two heads, glancing over his shoulder to where Willow still stood forgotten.

Angel wasn't stupid; he knew what she was going to ask. Didn't he want to know how it happened? No. He didn't, he knew it would be a heroic tale; she had saved the world.again. But, it wouldn't make any difference; so it didn't matter. Well didn't he want to go and see her grave? Again, no. He'd seen too many of those already in his long existence. No, what he wanted was to go upstairs, get in bed and sleep. Preferably without waking up again. If he did that, then maybe it would all just be a dream.a really bad one, but a dream none the less. Not real. So, he smiled again and then finally began to make his way upstairs reminding himself he still had a job to do, and trying not to think.

If he just ignored it then it would go away, right? This unbearable pain in his chest would leave; the sickness in his gut would fade. His eyes would stop stinging and he would be able to quell the desire to gasp wretchedly for breath that he didn't need.

Reaching the top of the stairs Angel stumbled, blindly reaching out to the wall for support. Feeling his legs give way underneath him, he allowed himself to slide down until he connected with the floor. He was just tired from his inter-dimensional travels, that was all. Well who wouldn't be? He just needed to sleep. Lying down further Angel wearily pressed his face into the carpet. Clutching at the pile with his hands.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut he tried to ignore the sounds of his friends coming up the stairs; the feel of their hands tugging at his arms. Why couldn't they leave him alone? Didn't they understand? He was just tired.

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