Disclaimer: As my maxed out credit cards would attest to, I'm not getting paid for this. Joss' characters, his vision, his dream.
Rating: Same as the shows
Spoilers: None really
Notes: This story was basically a writing exercise for me. I wanted to write a story that was honest and psychologically accurate in terms of what the characters would be going through with a renewed romance. Not really sure if I succeeded or not but feel free to let me know one way or the other. :-)
Notes 2: Yes, this story is short, and only occasionally sweet, and I realize that I haven't sent out a new part of Once Lost in awhile. The truth is OL9 is partly done, but I've been uninspired as of late, and busy as hell, but I am working on it, and I have no desire to let it join my other myriad of fics that will probably forever remain in 'unfinished fic land.' Also, I apologize profusely to anyone who didn't get a response to their feedback for my last story. Life has been so chaotic, and I have major guilt over taking so long to get back to you.
Dedication: To Deb, who is entirely awesome and one hell of an outstanding beta. To Rae, who came up with the title to this story, and to Tarina, Serena, and Janice who inspire, goad, and prevent me from getting lazy. :-)

It was one of those awkward silences, a moment filled with tense postures and stiff commentary, one where each of the parties involved went through a myriad of mindless chatter such as society dictated for such circumstances. No one asked any real questions and no one posed any real topics, and Buffy Summers bore the brunt of it with her own rhetorical questions and her own false smile firmly in place, all the while wanting to scream in frustration, or perhaps just give a truthful answer instead of the "fine" or "good" or a "doing well" that she found so easily crossed her lips. The other occupants of the room eyed her warily, as she eyed them in turn, no one wanting to rock a fragile boat that floated on proverbial choppy waters. No one wanting to do or say anything that would result in conflict and potentially bring hurt to the one thing everyone in the room had in common. Angel.

He was late coming down for their date, a fact that couldn't help but put a smile on Buffy's face. As she silently pondered over where the origin of the myth had started that it was only women who took long to get ready for an evening out. The fact that he worked so hard on his appearance before their date was a wonder in and of itself, giving her heart increased palpitations since she couldn't help but be touched by the care he took to look good for her, even though such actions were unnecessary. He was the single most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on, and would be equally beautiful swathed in silk, leather or a brown paper bag furnished by the local grocery store.

Of course telling him that would lead to an embarrassed smile on his part, a light shining of his eyes as he glowed at her compliment, and then a modest ducking of his head before he turned his attention back to complimenting her in turn, and their evening would progress from there. Meanwhile she was sitting in the lobby of his hotel, with his friends, each trying to bring up little bits of their shared history with her from what seemed like a lifetime ago while they struggled not to be uncomfortable about the fact that they were little more than strangers at present.

And then he came down the stairs, her savior from awkward tension, dressed all in black, a habit from his vampire days that he had yet to kick. As a patch of sunlight filtered in through the window and cast his face in a pale and very healthy glow. His face lit up when he saw her, the way it always did, and for a moment she felt like the single most precious being on earth, the way only he had the power to make her feel. She allowed herself to bask in that feeling, briefly, before standing up and shyly greeting him, wondering if there would be a point sometime in the near future when she could let out a joyful exclamation and run full force into his waiting embrace, the way she had when she was younger, and the world was seemingly more innocent. But they were too new for that now, too uncertain.

Angel had only been human for a month, and he and Buffy had resumed their relationship not too long afterwards, sparing each other one or two nights a week while they both continued go about their daily routines. They hadn't come to the point where they shared a life yet. If she were honest with herself, they hadn't come to a point where they shared much of anything at all. Instead there were dates, and continued inquiries into the lives of friends and family, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter.

Every once in a while they would accidentally touch, and an instant, burning fire would rise within them, reminding them of a bond formed long ago that could never be denied, a desire that grew so profoundly that neither could ignore it, despite the fact that their brains were busy trying to catch up with the knowledge of their bodies. It was as if their hearts knew that this was right, and this is what they should be doing and where they belonged, but their minds spoke of caution, of the fact that they were both entirely different people than they had been when the world had seemingly belonged to them. They had spent four years apart, four years building lives that didn't include each other, and such circumstances were not so easily ignored, no matter how much they tried to deny it.

Buffy returned his smile as she stood to approach him, timidly taking one step and then another, gradually coming up to stop just inches before him as she lost herself in the familiar glow of his presence. Taking a brief moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath she attempted desperately to ignore the dizzying rush that sparked between them at their close proximity. She felt dwarfed by him, they way she always did when confronted with his size in comparison to hers, and she fought the impulse to curl up against him, fitting her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around him to squeeze until he either had to gasp for air, or from the sheer emotion of it. But pride held her in place for in the three weeks they had been dating they had not crossed into intimacy yet. It was as if they were both afraid that once they crossed that final boundary there would be no going back, no time to reconnect or to allow the other party to reconsider their status as a couple. Each wanted to allow the other the room to escape if necessary, while wishing with everything in them to give in to the longing of their hearts and cross into the finality that intimacy would bring.

As hard as he tried Angel couldn't stop himself from reaching to brush aside an errant strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering seconds longer than necessary on the silky strand as he searched her expression for something, anything, that would indicate she too felt this agonizing pull to hug, or caress, or make wild and passionate love under the sun the way he had been dreaming about for years. But her face remained impassive as if she had learned the fine art of stoicism from him in those early years and had spent the past four years perfecting it. And so he gave in to indecision and uncertainty, his arm dropping to his side instead of reaching out to pull her close. Buffy swallowed the sharp pang of disappointment that swept through her, looking away as they moved apart to grab their coats and continue on their charted course of feeling alone while being together.

It wasn't until they were both seated at a nice restaurant and Angel excused himself to use the restroom that the irony of the situation crashed heavily against Buffy's consciousness. Here she was, the slayer, the guardian of the Hellmouth, the mother/sister of Dawn, the student, the friend, the daughter, afraid of admitting to this man she'd loved for so long that she was frightened of what the future meant for them. Her heart had been her most guarded possession for so long, it was difficult to release that again, so hard to let down emotionally constructed walls, even for the one she knew to be her soulmate.

For the longest time she had been Buffy, by herself, following her own rules and licking her own wounds. She had family and she had friends, but she lived by her own coda and she had discovered her own self. She recognized her more guarded approach to life, recognized that she wasn't the same girl who'd worn her heart on her sleeve for all to see the way she had when Angel had first met her. Circumstances had brought wisdom, and wisdom had brought change and the age-old dilemma that lay before her was whether or not Angel would like the change in her should she allow their conversations to go further than the demon population of LA vs. Sunnydale, how each of their respective families were doing, how it sucked to have to get up in the morning when they both stayed out late slaying, the weather, the government, or Dawn's latest test score.

In all fairness Angel too had changed. She knew that to be certain despite his also vague, non-relationship geared attempts at dinner conversation. She had seen him smile, she had marveled as he laughed, she had watched as he traded friendly banter with his friends, all things that the old Angel, her Angel, hadn't really done a whole hell of a lot of. But the truth was it suited him, seemed more natural to him now that he had come into his own and had earned his redemption. She liked it, the changes that she saw in him. Liked it a lot actually, and wished that he would allow her too to share in that side of him. Allow her to catch that glimpse of his soul that he felt too awkward, too uncertain, to bare.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Angel approach their table, missed his indrawn breath as he caught sight of her under the artificial light of the restaurant, her tanned skin glowing, hazel eyes bright, hair shining a thousand hues of gold. She was a vision, but she wasn't his, not completely, not in any way that counted. yet. He didn't know her heart, felt shut out from her soul and lost to any real thoughts that passed through that sharp mind of hers. They had been dancing around each other, just out of reach, for so long, neither able to make that one little step it would take to cross the imaginary line drawn between them, and for once allow themselves to feel something, anything, for this relationship they were trying to reconstruct. Yet he felt helpless, powerless to do anything about it. Every day he woke up wondering if this was the day that one of them would break, and every day foolish things like pride, fear, and uncertainty prevented him from trying to gather anything more from her than she was willing to give.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat as looked up to find Angel approaching the table, her heart giving the customary jolt that his presence provided, and at that moment she knew that she could hold it in no longer. Angel took a breath, a determined look suddenly appearing on his face, though she beat him to it.

"This sucks," she stated bluntly, not elaborating further with awkward descriptions, but knowing by the light that dawned in his eyes that he got her full meaning.

"Yes," he agreed softly, intensely, "it does."

"So what do we do about it?" Buffy asked hesitantly, looking young and vulnerable for the first time in years.

"I don't know," Angel answered, equally honest as he regarded her with silent longing, too anxious to sit down. "What do couples do in situations like ours? I'm at a loss, Buffy. I want you. Desperately. But so much has happened and time has passed, it feels strange to want again, to feel something that was forbidden to me for so long."

"I know," Buffy agreed, a light sheen of tears collecting in her eyes. "I want you too, but it's scary to feel this way, almost like it's new all over again, and it's awkward, and I don't know what to do," she finished, waving her hands helplessly.

"So I want you, and you want me, but neither of us, what, knows how to be in a normal, healthy relationship?" Angel questioned, weeks of frustration bubbling to the surface, though his anger wasn't directed at her, more at his feeling of powerlessness in their situation and their inability to just pick up where they left off all those years ago.

"Maybe we need to learn again," she replied softly, looking at her hands, and then bravely glancing up to meet his eyes. "Maybe we just forget our brains for once and see where our hearts take us. Maybe it's time we admitted that we missed out on a lot of things these past few years and we're different people now and we have to get to know each other all over again."

Angel's anger evaporated, his eyes betraying the truth he found in Buffy's words as he slowly came to stand next to her. "I think you're right," he agreed, his eyes taking on an entirely new light.

The tears in Buffy's eyes were a direct contrast to her smile as she slowly held out her shaking hand in Angel's direction. "Hello, I'm Buffy," she said with a sheepish grin, marveling in the warmth that spread through her body when Angel took her small hand in his large one, completely closing around it as his soul had engulfed her's long ago.

"Hello, I'm Angel," he replied with an answering smile, feeling his heart feeling lightened for the first time in weeks as it fluttered and quickened in response to her, the way it was born to do.

"I realize that we're in a public place, and that we've only just met, but I've been dying to kiss you all night, so if you'd be so inclined.." he said with hesitancy, gauging her reaction at his forwardness, but feeling so strongly for her that he was unable to hold back any longer.

"By all means, please do," Buffy answered, hearing her voice crack with emotion, but not caring that he heard and that he knew he had the power to provoke such responses in her.

And as if their bodies moved by instinct, giving into a powerful drive towards each other like a flame attracts a moth, Buffy stood up, coming to stand in front of Angel and meet his eyes as his face slowly descended towards hers. And there was silence, and awe, and feelings so powerful they threatened to consume them and suddenly it was as if they were alone, in a cocoon, just the two of them, and not in a public restaurant.

She took an indrawn breath as he moved closer. Her heart raced in anticipation, and she felt her eyes automatically close, blocking out the deep chocolate pull of his own as she did so and then contact, the soft feeling of skin meeting skin as a powerful, consuming wave of emotion sprang up from her gut, turning her into a quivering mass of flesh and bone. And his arms wrapped around her, securing her safely in his grasp, holding her so tightly that it was as if he were the drowning man, and she the life preserver. She sank towards him, feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling so undeniably passionate that she knew that a lifetime of kissing this man wouldn't be nearly enough. She felt him start to shake, felt the well of emotion within him as if it were her own, felt her own arms embrace him as he had her, and knew for certain, that no matter where the road took them from here that this was right, and this is what they had spent all those years apart fighting for.

It was time for the new beginning, time to reap the benefits of their hard years of labor, time to reacquaint themselves with their innermost thoughts and desires, and time to start a new life. together.

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