Feedback: Pretty please?
Rating: You can watch, you can read. R in later parts
Disclaimer: Not mine, but oh do I wish they were!
Summary: Takes place after the end of days has occurred. Angel didn't stay in Sunnydale after the battle was over.
Notes: This originally started as a fic to explore the possibility that the PTB wouldn't give us Angel's Shanshu without strings attached. I.e.: maybe he's human, but he still can't have Buffy. If David Fury and Marti Noxon have anything to do with it if/when Joss leaves..that could quite possibly happen, though I hope not. Anyway, that was it's original intent.was - more venting in advance. It turned into something else entirely. Something I think you'll like better.And yeah, it's a bit B/R. Have patience, my friends. :)
Dedication: To Margot, for all her help and support.

She just went out for cigarettes.

I don't even know why she started smoking. Maybe because she'd faced the worst her slayer hood would ever be able to throw at her, she wanted to try her odds against another, more mundane demon. She chose an odd time to pick up such a habit.

It wasn't during the insanity of the battle or even while she was preparing for it. No, she decided to start smoking once everything had calmed down and was okay again. At least, as okay as everything could be after a battle like that. One day, she just up and started smoking. Though I disapproved, I didn't say anything about it. One doesn't tell the world's stronger warrior that she isn't allowed to smoke.

Things have started to really look up. Willow got married not long after the battles ended. I guess the emotion of it all caught up with her, and she realized how close she'd come to losing him. Their wedding was beautiful, though I thought Buffy was even more beautiful than the bride. That could be my own bias coming into play there, of course. A Maid of Honour isn't supposed to outshine her best friend on such a day.

She and Oz are expecting their first child in a few months. Buffy's reaction to the news was mixed. She was overjoyed for her friend, but a certain melancholy seemed to hang about her after that. A melancholy that only increased after Xander and Anya announced their wedding, also good news, though a little less detail about Anya's plans for the honeymoon might have been appreciated.

But overall, she seems happy with her life. A significant drop in demonic activity, practically non-existent, actually. But even they are pitifully easy to handle. She graduated college and even has a few career choices open to her. Real jobs, jobs that pay cash, unlike the one she's been doing since she was fifteen. And best of all, we've moved in together. She seems really happy. In fact, it'll be our turn to get married soon.

It's been a few hours since she hopped into the jeep and took off. Suppertime came and went a long time ago, and the meal I'd prepared as a surprise became a cold, unappetizing thing over two hours ago.

I figure she's just out visiting and lost track of time. That happens a lot, especially when she goes over to Giles' place.

I'll just give her another hour or so before I cause her friends any unnecessary panic.

The time to panic has come and gone. Now I'm just numb. Everyone is over, doing their best to give me encouragement, to make me feel better. But it's not working.

I leave them sitting in the living room, pretending to have a cheerful conversation. Moving into the bedroom, I look for Buffy's address book, which I quickly find. Just as expected, it's listed right there under the A's. Though why she still has his number, I don't know, nor do I want to. I tell myself it's there just for emergencies. After all, the night the battles ended, there were no words exchanged between them. Angel simply packed up his crew and left.

It takes me several attempts to dial it completely, but eventually I hear it ringing. He answers, sounding impatient when I don't respond right away. I respond, and his voice immediately turns colder. I suppose I can't entirely blame him, not if he feels even half of what I feel for her. After all, the last thing he saw after the smoke cleared was me embracing her.

His tone changes, softens, becomes concerned when I tell him what's happened. When I bring up the possibility of something happening to her, he immediately denies it. Says he would just know somehow.

How can anyone just know? If either of us would know, shouldn't it be me? I want to scream the question out to him, but I don't think I'd like the answer.

He promises to look into it right away. In my desperation, I even promise him a good amount of cash if he can find her. He goes silent for a moment, and I know I've made a fatal mistake.

Helping Buffy was never a job for him. I guess it was too much to hope that it would be any different now.

Doesn't matter. Either way, I know he'll find her.

Angel will bring her home.

Besides, she just went out for some cigarettes.

**

That was one phone call I never thought I'd get.

I never thought I'd hear from Sunnydale ever again, let alone from him.

Cordelia told me I should've gone there a long time ago. That I should've just come right out and told Buffy. But really, how does one go about that?

"Gee, honey.I'm alive now."

Oh yeah, that's very suave, definitely the way to win her back. If it could ever be done, that is. I know that she does love him.

I'd thought about telling her of what could happen, but didn't want to give her any false hope before the battle, didn't want to give myself any. If I hadn't made it out.if she would even still care.I watched them after the battle had ended. Watched the way his arms held onto her so tightly, remembering a time when mine had done the same.

She had been about to embrace him back when her eyes met mine through the smoke. So reminiscent of her high school graduation, except then, there had been no other man between us.

The embrace never happened.

I knew then that I could never stay. Though it hurt me more than she would ever know, I had to admit that Riley really did love her, could give her a life without the darkness that is inherent in me, vampire or not. She deserves that much, so I left. Again.

Two days later, my prophecy was fulfilled.

My heart told me to go back to Sunnydale, but my head told me it was better this way. Sometimes I wish somebody would just come along and cut the awful thing off. It seems to delight in causing me pain.

I have to admit, it's difficult to shock 'Delia these days, after all she's seen and been through. But I definitely succeeded when I asked her to help me find someone. Just because I couldn't have Buffy, didn't mean I had to wallow in my misery, right?

So I dated. A lot. And quickly discovered that the dating scene is much harder these days. Almost had me yearning for the easy times I'd had of it as a youth. Back then, all you needed was a pretty face, a willing body and a private corner.

But that was before I knew what love could really be like. Before I met Buffy.

It isn't that I've been celibate all these years. As I once told Buffy, loneliness is the scariest thing there is. There have been a couple demons, good ones of course. And for a while, Jheira and I had a good thing going. But no humans, I would never have allowed that to happen. .

It's so different with humans, especially now that I am one.

But back to the phone call.

He actually sounded scared. Good. Maybe it's wrong to derive any satisfaction out of something like that, but I couldn't care less. He had the one thing I wanted most in the world. That is, I was glad until he told me why he was calling.

I could feel the pain he was in, not knowing where she was or if she was okay. I knew for a fact she was at least alive, I would have known immediately if she wasn't. Don't ask me to explain it; I don't think I ever could.

When he offered to pay me for looking for her, I was stunned into silence. Did they really think I had changed that much? That I cared that little about her?

That's how I found myself here; in the insanity that is Manhattan, ironically enough. This is where Whistler first found me, back when I was lost. Now it's Buffy's turn. Finding her was no easy job, but with Willy's reluctant help, I managed. Say what you will about the downsides of having been the scourge of Europe; it makes getting information that much easier. The trick now was to find her. Which I did, almost too easily,

It was at a club much like the bronze; only it catered to an older crowd. She wasn't hard to spot, someone like her never is. But what I saw seemed to rip another tear into my already wounded heart.

She was dancing with a man, and dancing very close.

I trailed them that night. Both went into an apartment building, but only he came out, so it was safe to assume I'd finally found where she was staying. She hadn't picked the best of neighborhoods.

It's funny, after all I've faced, you'd think I would have the nerve to at least approach her. Instead I chose to keep to a distance, watching her nightly activities over the course of a few weeks. Each night, she'd go to the same club. And each night, she'd dance for hours. Sometimes letting herself be held tightly, sometimes not.

But never by the same man twice. Occasionally she would take them home, but more often than not, she'd leave the club alone.

I knew what she was doing. I'd been doing it myself.

Riley called the hotel constantly, as did Giles and the others. But each time I gave them the same answer, the only one I felt I could give.

"I haven't found her yet."

**

I don't know who he thinks he's fooling. It certainly isn't me.

Oh, I haven't actually seen him, but I have felt him, and that's both a comfort and a curse.

When it was just me, I could be whoever I wanted to be. But now that he's around again, I can feel myself becoming her again, becoming Buffy. I don't want to be her anymore.

It takes me a while to realize that my man of the evening is trying to get my attention. Sometimes it's easy to forget that I'm using my middle name again. Not the most original plan, I admit. But it worked once before.

To make up for my lack of attention, I give him a seductive smile, letting him know without words what it is I want to do. Screw Angel.screw his precious hurt. This time, it's about what I want. He responds as expected, and we exit the bar. As we walk, my mind wanders almost as much as his hands do.

I think back to when I left Sunnydale, to what I left behind. Willow, Xander, Giles, Riley..Angel. No, I refuse to think about the last one. He left me, remember? And I don't mean my high school graduation. No, I mean after the last battle had been won, when what I wanted most in the world was for it to be Angel's arms around me instead of Riley's. But he didn't even come near me, didn't even ask if I was alright. He just turned and walked away. Again. Not even bothering to tell me the good news, news that Cordelia spilled by accident.

Yeah, that's love all right. He can finally give me what I want, what I know he wants, and he leaves anyway. Leaves and shares his precious humanity with an assortment of women, women who can't possibly appreciate the wonder and beauty of it as I could.

Is it wrong for me to feel so betrayed? After all, it's not like we were still a couple or anything. No, all there was between us was angst, pain.and a love that goes so deep into my soul that I can't even see where the line between us is anymore, or if it's even there. So why didn't he tell me?

I know the answer to that one. Riley. Because I was with Riley, he saw fit to make yet another decision for me, for us. Sometimes he can be such a self-sacrificing bastard that I want to kill him. Just want to wrap my hands around his neck and twist. But then he would be gone, and truly out of my reach.

Pathetic, isn't it? Even in this bitter, depressed state, I still want him, still crave him beyond all rational thought. I sound like a cold, callous bitch, don't I? I had a sweet, loving, and gentle man at my side, but I still wanted my dark lover.

It's funny, really. He left to avoid causing trouble between Riley and me, to avoid having to give me a choice. And it all fell apart anyway. Not because of something Riley did, but because of me. Seeing all the happiness around me, Willow and Oz, Xander and Anya.it all reminded me of what I could never have with Riley. Not because I wouldn't have the chance, and not because he didn't want to. The look in his eyes every time they would bring up wedding plans was proof enough to the contrary. No, it was because I knew I could never give him that much of me, could never give him all of me. And he deserves better than that. So do I.

I fool myself into thinking that if I hadn't heard about the prophecy, I would have been content with Riley. But if all the battles and all the sacrifices we made have taught me anything, it's that life isn't worth living if you don't do it all the way, especially when you're the slayer. Even if Angel hadn't become human, I still would have wanted to be with him, would have been content with whatever he had to offer me.

It wasn't like I consciously chose to leave that day, or that I wanted to hurt anyone I left behind. I really was out of cigarettes. But when I got into the jeep, something told me to keep driving, stopping only at the bank to withdraw some money.

My companion's hands start getting a little too familiar with my body, so I grab them - gently - and pry them off as we approach a convenience store. I need the cigarettes almost as much as I need him to stop pawing me for just a few minutes.

He starts up again immediately after leaving the store, but I haven't the patience nor the concern to bother with stopping him. He is clearly impatient and leads me into the nearest alleyway; somewhere I never would have gone into with a civilian before we won our battles. He fumbles drunkenly at my clothing, and I do nothing to stop it. I hear something tear and curse inwardly, but still I let him continue.

I barely register his clammy hands on my body, touching my breasts, moving lower until they reach the fastenings of my skirt. My soul blanches at the thought of him touching me there, but I force it back and let my body take over. The physical release, that's all that matters now.

He's fumbling with his own clothing now, trying to kiss me in-between. I don't let him. Kissing is for lovers, this isn't love. Accepting that, he moves his head away and focuses on his clothing again, freeing himself from the constraints of his pants. With the last functioning part of my brain, I remember to reach into my purse and grab a condom. He looks irritated, but takes it anyway. Without further pretense, he lifts me up, bracing me against the wall. The brick digs into my back as I wrap my legs around him, but I ignore it, concentrating instead on the feel of his uncoordinated thrusting.

He tries to kiss me again, but I move my head away. Letting out a frustrated snarl, he kisses my neck instead, moving lower at a frantic pace, until he's kissing the scar that has marked me for years. Something runs through me, and I freeze up, almost able to feel the piercing of his fangs again.

Then it all comes back to me. All the cold exchanges between us, throwing Riley in his face, all the men I've fucked since I came here. All my strength, all my incredible slayer strength seems to desert me in an instant, and I'm a young girl of seventeen again. Crying as her lover callously rejects her the morning after, crying as I watch my lover sucked into a vortex of his own creation, crying as I watch him struggle to speak, only to hear my name come from those lips.

Letting out a frightened whimper, I try to push him away, but to no effect. I try screaming for help, but all that emerges is a whispered plea for him to stop. Tears flow unchecked down my cheeks as he continues to pound me against the wall, the rough edges of the brick now cutting my skin, drawing blood.

A few more thrusts, and I feel his release. He quickly pulls out of me, and I fall to the ground in a crumpled heap, not even bothering to fix my clothing. He mumbles incoherently and leaves.

Time passes, but I'm not sure how much. I'm not even sure that I care. The coldness of the night seeps into my body, and I begin to shiver uncontrollably. Soon, opening my eyes is even too much for me to handle.

I barely feel it as someone turns me over and fixes my clothing. I trustingly let myself curl into him as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders and carefully lifts me from the ground.

The last thing I feel before the darkness takes me completely is his warm kiss on my forehead.

**

She's asleep now. I couldn't find the key to her apartment, so I just brought her back to my hotel and cleaned her up. Right now I'm alternating between wanting to wring her neck and wanting to hold her.

I can't seem to bring myself to do either one.

I don't know who the bastard was who just left her in that alleyway. That's probably a good thing for him, and for me. The last thing I need is another murder on my conscience.

There's something different about her now, even in the way she's sleeping. She looks younger, not as hard as she's been the past few weeks. I wonder what happened?

I can't resist the impulse to run my fingers through her hair, to rest my hand on her cheek. Her eyes flutter open, their gaze slowly coming into focus. A thousand emotions seem to run through them at once. Hatred, resentment, pain, love.tears start to flow, and I know that this is a release she's needed for a long time. Without hesitation, I join her on the bed, letting her bury her face in my shoulder, feeling her tears soak my shirt.

**

I'm not sure when I stopped crying, or when I even started, for that matter. All I know is that for the first time since the dark days ended, I finally feel complete. I pull away, gazing at him with regret. I open my mouth to speak, but he gently places a finger over it, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter now. None of it."

And I realize that he's right. After everything we've both faced and fought against for years, our petty differences don't seem to mean nearly as much as we thought they did. All that matters is that we're here together, that we made it to this point.

I give him a tentative smile and he knows that I understand. The emotions are still there, brewing under the surface. But we're not ready to deal with them yet. One day I'm sure we'll have to have it out, bring everything into the open. But today isn't the right time for that. Right now the only thing that matters is the love.

Belatedly, I realize that I'm naked under the sheets, that Angel must have done that. But considering how he found me, embarrassment would not only be pointless, but stupid.

He almost looks scared, and it would be funny if this weren't so important to me. With no hesitation, I reach for him again, bringing him closer. I take my time undoing his shirt, slowly peeling it off his arms and tossing it to the ground. The warmth coming off of him is new to me, and I smile tremulously before leaning in to hear something I've wanted and dreamed of for so long.

His heartbeat.

I tap my hand on his chest, in time with the beating that now echoes through my mind. He laughs at the sensation, but doesn't stop me. My hand finally abandons its task and travels down toward the fastening of his pants. He gasps loudly, but makes no effort to hinder my explorations.

I stroke him lightly for a few moments, delighting in the harsh breathing that I get as a response. Before I know what's happening, he's stripping off his pants and has ripped the covers away, baring me to his gaze.

He pauses for a moment and I blush at last, unable to remember when the last time was that I felt so loved. He smiles before leaning down to kiss me.

I let him do it, delighting in the feel of his hands touching me.

He enters me swiftly, somehow knowing this is how I need it to be, how much I need to feel him inside of me.

Our coupling is fast and furious, both of us knowing it won't last long. We've been waiting far too long for it to be otherwise.

Afterward, I let him hold me within the circle of his arms, smiling as he runs his fingers through my hair. We don't speak, now isn't the time for that.

Despite the peace I feel right now, I know things aren't settled between us. Maybe they'll never be completely settled. You can't erase old hurts, especially the kind we've inflicted on each other. But you can grow from them, move past them.

I find myself being lulled to sleep by sound of his breathing. Before it overtakes me, one last thought runs through my mind.

I don't think I'll be going out for cigarettes anymore.

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