DISCLAIMER: You know, there's a reason they call it "fanfic"... I'm a fan. I get no paychecks, don't claim the characters are mine. Of course, Rain KIND OF is, but kind of isn't, because, well... she's Buffy, and all. Point is, don't sue. :)
TIMELINE: May, 2291. Three months after Rain was called.
SPOILERS: None that you'd notice.
SYNOPSIS: Angel needs to talk to Rain about something...
DISTRIBUTION: The usual... :) If you'd like it, feel free to ask!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm having just... WAY too good a time with this universe! And I have to admit, this is my favorite part of the story yet.
FEEDBACK: I BEG YOU! ;)
RATING: PG-13 Rain has a tendency to swear.
DEDICATION: To SealedNFate, for her wonderful graphical tribute to "Face". Check it out at: http://members.aol.com/mlbuang241/sofamiliar.htm

Rain:

Angel told me he was a vampire one night while we were out on patrol. Just like that. Bang. Okay, so that's not strictly true. He started the talk during which I'm sure he planned to tell me, but in the end, I guessed.

It was a pretty routine night, like a lot of others we'd shared in the three months since my Calling. We met at my place just after sunset, ate a little dinner, packed a duffel bag full of weapons, and hit the streets. We patrolled through the center of downtown, and walked in wide, concentric circles in an outward spiraling pattern, until we reached the immediate suburbs, two or three miles out. It was there that we usually found the action -- demons like that "not too many people around to interfere" thing. But that night, all seemed kind of quiet on the Western front. We ended up at the playground on Mercer, swinging and talking in the moonlight.

Well, actually… *I* was swinging, and doing most of the talking, as usual. Angel leaned lazily against the swingset, but I could see that his body was still alert and ready, his eyes darting here and there at the slightest sound. He guarded me even when we were just relaxing.

I don't remember exactly what we had been talking about up to that point, which is funny, because it had really become my habit to absorb every word he said to me very carefully. I can recall some of our first conversations with perfect clarity. But this one -- one of the most important ones Angel and I ever had -- I can't remember how it began.

I do remember that I was talking about how much I loved slaying… gushing, actually. How I loved the feeling of firing a crossbow, loosing an arrow into a chest or a head, and watching one particular spot of evil just disappear before my eyes, never to harm anyone again. I told him I could just feel the joy of being useful -- of ultimate belonging, deep in my bones. I knew I was the Chosen One, and damn, was I glad.

"I can't imagine anything that would make me stop doing this," I told him, "God, I feel so alive!" I didn't laugh -- I wasn't giddy as much as so overfilled with adrenaline, my body was humming. I looked at him carefully. "How could you? How could you just stop?" My question echoed in the air around me, and the sad expression that apperaed on his face compelled me to look away.

Why did he stop? How could he? It's in my blood… in my bones… I couldn't stop being the Slayer now if I wanted to. I found it hard to believe that he could just lay down his sword and retire to a monastic life of quiet solitude one day. The very idea felt totally foreign to me, and I really wanted him to help me understand.

Technically, I knew why. When his love -- his Slayer -- died, he had stopped demon hunting. It seemed to me like cutting your hand off at the wrist because you lost a finger. It just didn't make any sense.

Angel considered my question intensely and carefully. I felt him roll it around in his mind… I watched him reach back into that distance into which he always disappeared. I watched his breath deepen, and I saw him remembering the moment when he gave up.

After a moment, he was back with me again. He walked over and sat heavily down in the swing next to me, never taking his eyes from mine.

"When Buffy died… It was… difficult, for me. I didn't see much point in saving a world without her in it."

I felt tears well up behind my eyes. I know, I should have been jealous, right? Jealous that the reason Angel and I couldn't be together was because of some long-dead love. But, I wasn't. The truth is, every time he talked about her that way… with so much adoration and reverence… my heart just sang. His heartfelt words made me feel deliriously happy and safe and content, as well as sad, as though the feelings he was professing about her were actually about me.

I don't know… Maybe I thought that my world was a better place simply because this amazingly devoted man actually existed. That feelings as deep as his ran for his Buffy were more than just the stuff that legends and songs and fairy tales were about made magic seem possible… I was happy to be in love with such a unique and loving person. And proud that some part of that person loved me, too. That made me feel more special than being the Slayer did.

Angel's warrior's heart had broken, and he had just given up… surrendered… when his lady fair died. It was romantic and melodramatic, and I cried for them both.

He didn't say anything else, and neither did I. I felt all my earlier euphoric energy leak out of me like a balloon with a pinhole, and the two of us swung in comfortable, melancholy silence.

Then, something dawned on me. I slowly looked up at him, and found him already looking my way, watching me. He seemed to be almost drinking in my face… memorizing it intently while I wasn't looking. When our eyes met, he hesitated for a moment, then looked away.

Angel hadn't picked up a sword in who knows how many years. Until he met me.

I must have gasped aloud when I realized it, because he turned back to look into my eyes.

"Why now?" I whispered, "There must have been another Slayer after Buffy… why didn't you help her? Why me?"

He kept his gaze locked on me so tightly, I couldn't move. The look was one I've never seen on another being before… intensity… surety of purpose… fire.

"It was time," he answered simply.

I stared at him for a while.

All I could think to say after all that was: "Thank you, Angel. I'm really… honored."

He didn't mock my melodrama. In fact, he smiled.

"You're welcome," he said.

We both turned and looked out at the full moon high in the sky, and swung slowly as the crickets chirped in the trees all around us.

*******************************

Angel:

It was a truth I hadn't admitted to myself, until that moment. I had been dead, essentially… really, finally dead, since the day that Buffy took her last breath. I had hidden myself away… avoided all contact with anyone or anything that might make me feel… no more friends, no more demons. I couldn't die, but I made sure the world that Buffy no longer inhabited disappeared from my existence. For 200 years, I hid.

Until Rain. Until the moment I stood there outside that club and I saw her, much as I had her ancestor -- alive and innocent and bubbling with the pure, shining exuberance of the young… the joy of the living. The first time I lay eyes on Rain, I began to come back to life.

I looked at her… examined every familiar nuance of her expression as she looked out at the stars… remembered a billion moments when I had watched her, over hundreds of years… I had given her so little, and I owed her so much.

"Rain, there's something I need to talk to you about. Something I have to tell you," I began.

She broke her reverie and looked at me, worry immediately shadowing her perfect features. I knew that look well… I had seen it on Buffy's face more times than I care to remember -- that look that begged for me not to hurt her. Not to add more sorrow to her heart's already heavy burden.

"What?" she asked softly, her voice small with apprehension.

I took in every familiar curve and edge of her face as I did every time we were together. I watched the Buffy's immortal essence glow from beneath her skin.

"I'm…" How was I going to say this? I panicked -- I had never just come out and told anyone I was a vampire, before, in all my many years. At least, not someone I cared so much about. Most people found out the hard way. "Rain, I'm…" I sighed and ran my hands through my hair -- a nervous habit Buffy often said left me looking like I had a frightened porcupine on my head. Right then, and most every time I did it, I wasn't terribly concerned about the state of my hair.

Rain watched my movements carefully, and a look of dawning shock widened her features.

"Oh… God…" she moaned, "You're… oh my God. I should have known!"

I looked at her.

"The ring! Oh, GOD!" she said.

I started, a little taken aback. "What…"

Rain whacked herself on the forehead, "I can't believe I'm so STUPID! How could I have forgotten that people in the 20th century wore their union symbols on their left hand!"

I looked down at my wedding band. Suddenly, I realized what she was thinking -- being the 20th century efficianado that she was, of course she would know the traditional symbols of devotion. The ring on the left hand as a sign of marriage had fallen out of favor a hundred years ago or more. Rain didn't notice, or comment on it previously, because it wasn't a piece of jewelry that meant anything to anyone in this day and age. Except me.

My wedding ring was just a part of me, as much as the skin and bone beneath it. I never even thought to take it off.

"No, Rain…" I started to try to interrupt her. She was misunderstanding, and I needed to tell her what I really wanted to tell her before I lost my nerve.

She stopped her self-flagellation, "You're married," she said flatly, "I can't fucking believe it."

I shook my head, "That's not… not what I wanted to tell you."

She stared at me strangely, "You weren't going to tell me you were married?"

I sighed. This was getting too out of control. "Yes, I was… I mean… no. I… I'm not, exactly… not anymore." I looked down at my hand again, feeling that old pain… that sharp, throbbing stab in my chest that came every now and again to remind me… remind me of what Buffy and I had shared… and most of all, that she was gone, and with her, our beautiful life.

I looked up at Rain again. She was Buffy, in so many ways. In all the ways that counted -- heart and soul. My love wasn't gone from me… not anymore. She was sitting in the swing right next to me, and I was looking into her eyes.

"Buffy wasn't just your love… she was your wife," Rain observed, her voice full of soft compassion, "You're a widower, not just a mourning lover."

Her tenderness touched me. Again, I was reminded how special she was… how lucky I was to have met her… and how much I was in her debt.

"Yes," I confirmed, "She was my wife. But that's not it."

Rain looked at me for a long moment.

"There's something else?" the fear was back in her voice, sharpening her words.

I nodded. "It's… about me. I'm not… not what you think I am."

The fear seeped away from her features, and pure curiosity took its place.

"Well, considering you've never really told me anything about yourself except that you were a demon hunter married to a Slayer that died, and that you were born in Ireland and you hate yogurt, I think I've been forced to kind of wing it. It wouldn't be too surprising if I'm pretty far off in what I think you are."

She was trying to be light… trying to soften the moment and ease both of our discomfort. It only made me admire her more.

"Let me guess," she went on, "You were a mercenary. Or… you were in prison… or worse, the circus!"

"I'm not human, Rain," I blurted out. There. I said it. Sort of.

That stopped her cold. Her big green eyes widened, then dilated, and I felt pinned under the weight of their suddenly sterile examination. She was in full Slayer mode in a moment, re-assessing me with calculated intensity, tasting my aura and the bond between us, measuring it against the knowledge about non-humans she had in her brain.

"You're a vampire," she said matter-of-factly.

I blinked. "Yes," I said.

Rain kept looking at me, her expression interested, but devoid of any emotion I could see.

"Huh. Makes sense," she said finally.

The feeling of being under a microscope dissipated, and Rain casually began to swing again.

"You're not… frightened?" I asked. I didn't really want to hear if the answer was yes, but I had to know. I had to get all of this out of the way quickly. If she was going to kill me, or send me away, I needed it to happen now, while I had the strength to accept it.

She stopped swinging and looked at me again, "Should I be?" she asked seriously.

"No," I said automatically.

She shrugged. "Then, I don't see the big deal. I'm not really surprised, to tell you the truth."

I couldn't believe how she was taking this! Did it seem so natural to her? Was her world so convoluted now that it didn't phase her to find out her closest friend and fighting partner was one of her natural enemies?

"You're not," I said, "I… It doesn't… bother you?"

Rain chewed her lip, considering that for a moment. "No, actually. It explains a lot."

I stared at her, speechless.

She looked at me. "I've never seen you outside during the day. You hardly eat or drink at all. You avoid mirrors. You never touch me when I'm wearing my cross," she explained, "And you never, ever, excuse yourself to use the bathroom. It all adds up, if I'd stopped to think about it. Why? Were you expecting it to bother me?"

"Well… yeah," I told her honestly, "I have to say I wasn't… I didn't expect this kind of reaction from you."

She grinned wryly, "What, did you think I'd stake you?"

"Frankly, yes," I confirmed.

Rain laughed, and reached out to take my hand. She pulled her swing a little closer to mine, and warmed me with her smile.

"Silly. I don't care about you because of your species… or because you breathe or eat or have a heartbeat or whatever. You're my friend because of who you are. That doesn't change just because you have… kind of a colorful background."

I felt relief wash over me like a happy wave, and I laughed. I pulled her the rest of the way to me, and kissed her slowly, softly… afraid to linger too long for fear of being swept away, but compelled to at least share that small moment of my deep love and respect for her.

Don't let anyone ever tell you that you don't hear choirs of angels singing in your ears, or see fireworks lighting your vision when you kiss your soulmate, because they're lying.

***************************

Rain:

I said goodnight and hugged him tight to me, noticing for the first time that he wasn't really warm… that I couldn't feel his heartbeat against me. No wonder he'd always tried so hard to keep his distance! I mean… that… the vampire thing… among other reasons. I shut the front door, leaving him and all his secrets on the other side. He needed to go home -- dawn was quickly approaching. We'd been necking like kids on the swingset for hours.

I leaned heavily back against the door and just reeled, overwhelmed by a million sensations. What a night! Another night that just blew a hole in everything I thought I knew.

Angel was a vampire. Talk about your big news! And I was worried that he was going to tell me something mundane like he was married or had been in jail or something. Being a demon definitely beat out any of those things, as far as bombshells go. The love of my life was a 500 year old fiend. A monster with a soul.

I frowned. No. Angel might be a vampire, but he was no monster.

I laughed out loud. Then I ran upstairs, and did a little jig when I reached the second floor landing, whooping at the top of my lungs.

He kissed me! ANGEL KISSED ME!!!!

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