Disclaimer: All characters are property of Fox, Mutant Enemy, and Satan - I mean, Joss!
Spoilers: "The Harsh Light of Day"
Feedback: I want, I need it, oh baby, oh baby. Questions and comments are welcomed. No flames though. Flames bad. They burn. Ouchies, you know what I mean?
Distribution: You want it, just tell me, and you can have it.
Rating: Oh, I dunno. PG. Maybe PG - 13 just to be safe.
Summary: Set during "The Harsh Light of Day" when Parker and Buffy are having their before sex talk. ( I've blocked that eppy out now, I swear. ) Yep, ladies and gents. It's a rewrite.
Author's Note: Someone's probably already written a story like this, but I haven't. And go easy on me! This is my first story!

Buffy's expression abruptly grew solemn as Parker's words hit her heart with the force of lightning. He was right. She hated to admit it, but he was right. Life was full of making choices, some that could alter how a person lived for as long as they put forth the effort to go on living. One mistake and your entire life could be rushed, your dreams burnt away in a harsh, unforgiving fire. That's why you can't dwell on your mistakes, and the only way to not dwell on them was not to make them in the first place.

The slayer swallowed hard as she looked down sadly. Tears sprang into the corners of her innocent hazel eyes, ready to fall at a moment's notice. All she could think about was Angel, and how he had made the decision to leave. His choice. His very wrong, very wounding choice that had changed both of their lives for the worse. It was a blunder, a cruel mistake. And Buffy wanted so much to make it right.

But she couldn't. Could she? Angel was gone. He was in Los Angeles living out his eternal torment alone.

But what about Buffy's torment? What about her hurt? She needed to share it with somebody, and she certainly couldn't share it with her friends. Who was she going to talk to? Parker? No. Her slayer senses were whispering unmercifully inside of her head, warning her that he wasn't at all what he seemed. He wasn't this nice, perfect man. There was something about him.

Ah, yes. He wasn't Angel.

"Buffy?" Parker asked.

She looked up. And for a split-second saw the image of the man she loved before her. His perfect angelic face giving her his trademark half-smile. His luscious soft lips begging out to her. And his deep brown eyes that screamed his pain and his love for her were suddenly staring into her own, pleading with her to touch him. To kiss him.

And Buffy was sent reeling back to reality. Parker was right. She had to make a choice.

"I'm gonna go," she suddenly said. She stood and walked towards the exit, her mind finally in the right place. At long last, she had made her decision.

Parker's jaw dropped with shock and confusion. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, trying to keep the volume of his voice from reaching heightened screams.

Buffy stopped dead in her tracks as she opened the door. What was she doing? She wasn't entirely sure herself. But one thing was certain.

Slowly, she turned back to him. Half-smiling. "Making a choice," she answered softly.

Parker could only watch her walk away, leaving him with a feeling of rejection he had never known in his entire life.

***

Angel stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. As he lay in the softness of his bed, he occasionally allowed his eyes to follow a floating piece of lint. But soon he would turn his attentions back to that blasted ceiling, thinking only of her.

He had to get over this. How long had they been apart now? Three months? Four? He wanted to see her again, but that could never be. Hell, he was even resorting to desperate measures such as calling her just to hear her voice and then hanging up on her cruelly. The humanitarian in him cried that it was an unfair thing to do to Buffy and himself. Not like she really knew anyway. He was probably the last thing on her mind.

Sometimes Angel had nightmares. And sometimes she was in them. And sometimes in those nightmares, she was making love to another man, kissing him, calling out his name instead of Angel's. And sometimes Angel would grow jealous of that mystery man, wanting to rip his throat out with the anger of a hunted animal.

He loathed those feelings. He loathed those images. But what could he do about it? He had made the choice. Buffy was in Sunnydale, moving on, living her life to the fullest, and he was alone in Los Angeles, not even two hours away, dreaming of her every moment of his immortal existence. He couldn't go back and change things. And even if he could, Buffy wouldn't want him anymore. Would she?

No, of course not. What was Angel thinking? He suddenly wanted to hit himself for even thinking Buffy might still love him. He felt like such an idiot! She was young and strong and gorgeous and smart! What was he? Nothing! Why should she still want him? Love him? It was crazy. Preposterous. Why would a perfect being like Buffy love a monster like him?

A piece of lint began floating through the air and with it, Angel's eyes followed. But his thoughts lingered. Piercing hisheart like a holy dagger.

"Angel?" a voice called.

For a moment, Angel could have sworn that voice to be Buffy's. So sweet and pure, leaking with love and uncertainty. But this voice was proud and strong and ardent. Powerful. Not all meek and unsure like Buffy's sometimes was.

The vampire sat up, gazing back at Cordelia. "What is it?" he said.

Cordelia managed a smile and motioned towards the stairs. "Someone here to see you."

Confusion washed over the vampire like a roaring tide. But rather than ask questions, he reached for his black sweater, eager to learn whom the unknown visitor was.

"You don't have to do that."

Angel froze. The sound. Sweet. Pure. Soft. Precious.

Buffy smiled nervously as Angel looked back at her. "I kind of like seeing you like this," she quipped quietly.

Angel couldn't think of a thing to say. He was still in shock. This was a dream. It had to be. There was no way she could be standing in his doorway, her porcelain face gazing back at him, glowing with beauty and passion. There was no way her childlike jaded eyes were teasing his own, trying their best to sparkle with the same light he had given her before their world had been turned upside down. There was no way her skin was calling out to him, aching to be touched. To be held.

Yes, there was a way. She was here. And she obviously wasn't here for her health.

"Buffy," Angel said. It was all he could say.

Buffy started to make her way towards him. "I, um. I'm sorry I didn't call to give you more warning. I don't- I don't even know why I'm here. I had to beg Giles to give me your address."

"I told him not to tell you."

Buffy smiled sadly. "I know."

Silence clouded over the room, raining down upon the two lovers. What was there to say? What was there to talk about? Oh, yes, the reason Buffy was here. That would give them loads to talk about. But even though the slayer's heart was set on the outcome of this meeting being a good one, she was dreading it. What if he rejected her? Pushed her away? She wasn't sure if she would be able to handle it.

But she had to try.

"So," Buffy began hesitantly, "how ya been?"

"Pretty good." But, of course, Angel was lying.

Buffy nodded her head once, keeping her faux smile perfectly intact. "Good."

"Yeah," was Angel's reply.

Buffy let out an uneasy sigh as she stopped a few feet away from him. Their eyes met for a split-second, but Angel immediately looked away with Buffy following his example. What were to happen if they saw each other's love in the other's eyes? What would happen if they both came to the acknowledgment that they were still in love with each other?

They'd fall into each other's arms. That's what.Buffy would run to him, begging him to hold and kiss her. And then they would never be able to walk away from each other ever again.

Would staying apart be easier than staying together? Probably. But did it really matter? Staying apart was the last thing they could do. Together they could do anything. Well, almost anything. But since when was having sex or not having sex not a problem? There would be obstacles if they were to return to one another, but it wouldn't have mattered because they could have faced those obstacles. Together.

Buffy laughed softly, wishing she could just put all she felt into words. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Why is this so hard?"

Angel wanted to answer her. He wanted to say something. But he couldn't. He just stared. Stared at her petite, innocent figure. Stared at her small, shaking hands. Stared completely in awe at the woman he could never have.

But he could have her. Maybe not as much as he wanted, but he could. It was just his damned stubbornness - their damned stubbornness - that was keeping them apart. That and the curse. But since when should that have really mattered if they were still painfully in love with one another?

Finally, Angel asked what needed to be asked.

"Buffy, what are you doing here?"

The slayer swallowed hard, nervously tucking a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She cleared her throat, laughing softly. "H - Have you ever... been somewhere. With someone. And all of a sudden your world just started to make sense again?"

"Yes," Angel responded, thinking back to their blissful night together.

"Well, um..." She cleared her throat once more. "That happened to me tonight." A pause. "I met someone. Someone nice. His name's Parker."

Anger and sadness boiled inside of the vampire, mixing with the stolen blood that flowed through his veins. "Congratulations," he said, somewhat bitterly.

Buffy's eyes grew wide as she shook her head. "God, no, Angel! It's not like that! He just... He said some things, and... I dunno. He just made me realize that something's missing."

Angel swallowed hard as he tried to recover from the earlier disappointment. "What?"

Buffy hesitated before easing closer, love and... what else was that in her eyes? Was she begging? Pleading? Yes. Yes, that was it. She needed him. Needed him more than anyone had ever needed another in this entire world.

And he needed her. He needed her so badly that he could almost taste the sweet care she gave off with her every smile. Every laugh. Every blink of her deep hazel eyes. He needed it all. He wasn't sure if he could live without it.

Seconds passed before their bodies were close together. So close that Buffy's racing heartbeat pounded mercilessly against Angel's bare chest. He wanted so much to carry her into his arms. To love her. Protect her from the cold, cruel world. But he couldn't. She deserved better. Something outside of this... this... hell. For a monster to protect her... it would be like the blind leading the blind, which was far more worse than any heartbreak they could cause one another.

A shuddered breath left the slayer's lips as she pressed her shaky hand to his bare chest. He was so cold. And so wonderful. And it had been so long since she had felt like this. This complete. She could feel his dark eyes on her, trailing over her body and soul like he was peering inside. Searching her heart for the love she held for him. An assurance, almost.

And the feeling brought her to reality. It consumed her, ripping at her heart. The hot, salty tears welled in her eyes as she stared up into his own, ready to confess what it was she had been missing.

"You," she answered shakily.

Angel swallowed hard as her words pierced him. She did need him. She did want him.

But he couldn't allow that. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. But if they got too close, the flame of hell would swallow them whole. Just like before.

"Buffy -

"Angel, I don't think I can do this!" Buffy cried, the words now finding way from her mouth like tumbling rocks. "I can't live my life without you, I tried! I need you! I can't -

"Don't say that!" Angel exclaimed, trying to pull away.

Buffy clutched at his arm. "Why not?! You need me to! You know you do! You love me!"

"Buffy, stop!"

"Angel, please, I'm begging you! Do not push me away!"

"And what if I do?!"

Buffy stared up at him as he stared down at her. Moment of truth. God, she felt like she were in some pathetic Lifetime movie. But it didn't matter. The fear, the pain in his misty brown eyes just proved that her suspicions had been right all along. He wanted to take her into his arms again. He was drawn to her. Like a moth to a billowing, hot flame.

"Then I walk," she finally answered. "Either you let me in or I walk out."

It was such a tempting offer. To have her. To be with her. She was the only ray of sunshine she had witnessed in over two centuries. The only breath he had ever taken in with such sweet surrender and then reluctantly let go of when the time came to do so. And now she was here. Asking him. Pleading with him. And he just wasn't sure if he could resist such a devilish temptation.

But he had to. For her sake. For his own.

He looked away before softly ordering.

"Buffy, get out."

The silent tears spilled over her cheeks. That was that. Her heart was gone. So many times it had been bruised, and now she was certain she'd never be able to breathe again. He didn't want her.

And now she wondered if he ever had.

It was something out of a movie. The silence, the despair ripped at their insides. And the jolt of thunder and lightning that crackled outside sent them reeling back to the real world. The soft thuds of raindrops echoed throughout the apartment, mocking the salty droplets that fell from Buffy's eyes.

Without a word, she backed away and walked back up the stairs. Reluctantly walking away from him.

A single tear rolled down the vampire's angelic face.

***

The hoarse sobs brought Cordelia out of the magazine article she was reading. Like a flash of the lightning outside, the slayer emerged from the stairs, desperately running away from the office.

Cordelia had heard their screams. Their fighting. And it did nothing but piss her off. She was tired of Angel moping around. Tired of hearing that pained scream in his eyes. And if Buffy was the one to silence and give Cordelia some peace then by God, she was going to make sure those two were together again.

The ex - May Queen jumped from her seat and grabbed Buffy by the arms. "Calm down," she said softly, yet firmly. "Just tell me what happened."

Buffy tugged at the grasp. She just wanted to leave. Leave this building. This city. The state, the country, the world. She just wanted to die. To have the glamour of death wash over her, cleansing her of her heart's wounds. Wouldn't that give her peace? Wouldn't she finally have some control in her life? If she didn't have him, what did she have?

Nothing.

"Let me go!" she exclaimed through her choking sobs.

"Buffy, just calm down!"

"Damn it, Cordelia, let me go!" Buffy screeched. With all of the slayer strength she could summon, she pushed the girl away, ignoring her look of shock as she raced outside into the pouring rain.

It was so cold against her skin. So piercing. And it was the only thing she had left of him. Left of this night. This harsh, unforgiving night that she wished to be gone.

Her cries became caught in her throat as she desperately tried to swallow them back. But they were stubborn - maybe even more so than she was - and they came anyway without warning. Just like he had come into her life. No warnings. No labels.

'Don't you think it's a little late to be reading me the warning label?'

'When you kiss me, I wanna die.'

'Don't what?! Don't love you?! I'm sorry, you know what, I didn't know that I got a choice in that!'

'I'm not gonna say goodbye.'

She had never lost a battle before. Not until this one.

With her strangled cries still echoing into the freezing rain, Buffy Summers slid her back down the wall of the building, burying her face into her knees. Death. It had never sounded more sweet.

***

He wanted to run after her. He wanted to grab her and hold her and never let her precious body go. But he couldn't. Damn it all to Hell, he just couldn't! And it ate away at him more than his soul ever would.

Those glistening tears that had fallen down her cheeks... they had fallen into his cold, undead heart, stinging it. Bringing it to life once more. Only he wished it to be dead again. To fall away from this world. Because if he didn't have her...

So why wasn't he running after her?! Why wasn't he at least putting forth an effort to save them both from the cruel life they would eventually lead without each other? Why couldn't he just open up his eyes and see what they had?

Cordelia Chase was asking herself the exact same questions as she stood at the foot of the stairs. Arms folded. Jaw set. It meant one thing. The bitch was back.

"You're real proud of yourself, aren't you?"

Angel sighed. "Cordelia -

"Shut up!"

The vampire did so.

"I've never liked Buffy. We all know my opinion of her. My life would have been so much easier and better if she had never even came to Sunnydale."

She let that sink in. Let him ponder over how it would have been if he had never met the blonde slayer.

"But yours wouldn't have been."

Angel stared up in surprise. In fear. Was she right? Was she telling the truth? Maybe she was and he just didn't want to see it. Maybe Buffy was the one thing that had kept him connected to the Earth while he struggled with his soul. These past few months had been agonizing for him. Maybe that was why. Because he was alone. He was empty.

And if that were true, then he was going to experience Hell on Earth for the rest of his immortal life.

"You love her, Angel. I know that. I can see her in your eyes. When you stare off into space like some druggie in the alleyways of Nieman Marcus, I know what you're thinking!"

"Enlighten me," Angel spat.

"Her, Angel! You're thinking about her! And I just had to watch her run! And cry! All the while thinking about you! But, hey, you made the right decision, didn't you?! You just let her heart get broken again! Oh, and newsflash, bucko! You guys weren't even a couple this time! God, do you get off on this! Do you understand how much it hurts to have someone tell you that they don't love you?!"

"I never said -

"You didn't have to!" Cordelia yelled through gritted teeth. She wasn't even sure why she was getting all worked up. She hated Buffy. Hated the fact that most of her problems had come from the holier than thou bitch.

But she had been a friend. And Angel was a friend. And although Cordelia had a conscience made of cold stone, her heart was secretly warm. Forgiving. Maybe even a little romantic.

"You're not strong enough to live without her. You came here to save souls, Angel? Let her save yours."

And just like that it hit him. Swallowing him whole. Taking his very breath away - well - if he actually had breath. Cordelia was right. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He didn't enjoy hearing this. Knowing what he had feared all along was true. He wasn't strong enough to do this without her. Jesus, he had even been homeless man on the streets for the longest time and it was all because he had never felt he was worth anything.

But Buffy made him feel that way. She made him feel complete. Perfect. Like all was right in his world and every thought of his evils was a million miles of way. He needed that. He needed the stability. Otherwise he'd wind up another homeless man on the streets all over again.

"Run," Cordelia said softly, staring across the room into the vampire's eyes.

And run he did, leaving his associate to breathe a sigh of relief and pride.

***

"Buffy!"

She jerked her head up in surprise, wiping her wet face. But her hot tears and the icy rain showed no mercy, simply spilling over her, soaking her to the bone as his frantic voice filled her ears.

His voice. That same, deep voice that had whispered into her ear words of comfort. Words of love and promise. But it was the same, perfect voice that had spoken cruel words to her. Then left, seemingly without a care in the world. Now it was the same voice that had pushed her away. The last and final time.

Buffy stood as she saw his half - naked form running towards her. There was a longing in his eyes. A regret. He wanted her. Only her. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. What was the point? If he had said no the first time then why was he coming back to say yes?

Simple. His mysterious brown eyes had finally opened up from their clouded sleep. And he was beginning to see just how much he needed her.

Still she ran. Ran away from him. Reluctantly.

Angel chased after her, not particularly caring that he had failed to put on a shirt. He was a vampire, he couldn't get sick. But she could. And he could take care of her. Love her. Try and be the man she knew and loved because he was the man. As much as he hated to admit it, he was. Helpless. Afraid. Lost in the cold rain without her.

"Buffy, stop!" he demanded, managing to catch up with her and grab her arms.

She whirled around on him and struggled to find her voice through her sobs. "God, just let me go!"

"Stop this, Buffy! Just come inside!"

"You've done enough, thank you! Now let me go!"

"No!"

"Isn't this what you wanted?! For me to go?! To make things easier for you?!"

"No, Buffy, that wouldn't be easier!"

"Wouldn't it?!" she screamed through the roaring thunder. "You don't even know what you want!"

Angel stared at her, convinced that even though her hair was limp and damp, even though her make - up was smudged and running down her face, even though her eyes were bloodshot and swollen that she was still the most beautiful, pure woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

And he loved her. God, help him. But he did.

Buffy could only moan softly as his mouth melded with hers in a soft, passionate kiss. She relaxed against him, the strong hold he had on her arms suddenly changing as their fingers became clasped together. This was Heaven. It always had been. Being with him. In his arms. Her lips pressed to his. It was perfect. The right thing to do.

Angel's hands trailed to his love's hips, bringing her closer. That strange feeling of being whole filled him once more after what had seem like a million lifetimes. How many nights had he dreamt of this? Dreamt of holding her again? Kissing her? Losing himself in the great rapture she gave him?

Too many to count.

The kiss broke with Buffy struggling to catch her breath. She felt like she was flying. Floating away into that abyss of passion and love. Belonging. He had always made her feel that way. Perfect almost. God, she had missed the feeling!

He leaned his forehead against hers, stroking her cherub - like face with the back of his smooth hands. Her eyes closed lazily as she leaned into his touch, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of her life like this. In his arms. Submerged in their awesome love.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly, breathlessly.

Angel gave her that trademark half - smile. "Making a choice," he answered.

The words echoed inside of Buffy's heart as she laughed softly. Soon, her lips found his again. Only for a second. Before she wrapped her arms around his neck, placing her head against his bare shoulder.

Angel closed his eyes. He was saved. Finally, he had been redeemed.

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