SERIES: Only When I Sleep 7
DISCLAIMER: Buffy and Angel belong to Joss. The title is that of a Billy Fury song, and is also a song from Disney's 'Sleeping Beauty'.
TIMELINE: After 'Fool For Love' and 'Darla'.
SPOILERS: 'Fool For Love', 'Darla'.
SYNOPSIS: For any new readers ... Buffy dreams about Angel.
DISTRIBUTION: Just send me a link.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've never seen the hotel Angel lives in, or the layout of his bedroom, so please allow me some artistic license with it. And, look - 'Only When I Sleep' gets an actual technical basis!
FEEDBACK: Empty inbox bad, feedback pretty (doesn't quite scan, does it?).
RATING: PG

My name is Buffy and I am a lucid dreamer. Seems like I'm a textbook case; the dreamer knows they're dreaming but doesn't wake up, dead relatives sometimes drop in and tell you stuff you *don't* already know (and okay, Angel's not a relative, but he is dead, and if there's something I've learned lately, it's that family is relative. I mean ... you know what I mean) and the dreamer may travel to strange lands and other dimensions.

Witness me having knowledge. Gleaned from Willow, in a very awkward, stilted questioning session. She went on for a while, but the part I heard was that lucid dreaming is a powerful tool in taking charge of your destiny; well, I'm not sure I've ever been in charge of my destiny, but I'm trying. I kind of wanted to tell her about the dreams, but I also want to keep it to myself, keep him to myself. The gang weren't keen on him in physical form - I'm not sure they'd love the news that he's wandering freely into my subconscious.

That is, if he is. All the technical talk made me wonder if it is actually Angel I see. If any of it is Angel.

Then I see him, and I know.

* * * * *

So, armed with this new knowledge, I made a real effort to try and control where and when, aiming for a nice sandy beach with palm trees and glittery water and soft moonlight.

Suffice to say it didn't work, because I ended up stumbling into some big place I didn't recognise at all, and the curtains were closed but I could see the muted light shining through them.

I figured that at least meant I'd gotten to Angel, so I could probably claim success, or at least partial success.

He was sitting in a large, fairly bare room. The curtains were open here, which seemed odd, but then he's never liked being cooped up all day; that's why he had an apartment with tunnel access and a mansion without a lot of sunspots. He wasn't actually sitting in direct sunlight, but he was looking out, and he didn't turn to acknowledge me, or even seem to hear me, and maybe I don't make a lot of noise, but I made enough for a vampire to hear me.

'Do you like a view?' he asked, his voice loud in the eerie quiet of the room.

So he heard me.

'I guess,' I said warily.

'So does she,' he said, still without turning around.

I was struck with an odd sense, and turned around slowly. I saw a shadow on the bed, a figure lapsing in and out of view, like a ghost. It's been a while, but I recognised her.

I felt Angel rise and come to stand close, to the side and just behind me.

'I'm obsessed,' he said stoically.

'With Darla?' I asked in an equally emotionless tone, fighting to keep from betraying myself with a tremor.

'Yeah,' he said, then he brushed past me and went to sit on the bed. He stared at where her shade had been, and then dropped his head into his hands.

It always seems like such a dramatic gesture, when you read about people doing that in novels, when you see it on TV. You watch, or you read, and you think 'come on. Who does that?' but when Angel did it, it was natural, it looked like he just couldn't hold his head up anymore. It was heartrending, and it suddenly didn't matter that this was the man I love confessing his obsession with another woman, it was just the man I love in pain.

Doesn't mean that I won't rip her head off if I see her again, it just means it might be for him, rather than for me.

I walked over to the bed and kneeled down beside him. I hesitated a moment, then reached an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close to me. He resisted, then I felt the urge to pull away dissipate and he wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his head in the crook of my neck.

'It's me,' he mumbled into my shoulder. I stroked his hair and let him talk, though it seemed to be mainly rambling, 'the pain, the loneliness, I remember it, she doesn't even appreciate, she just pulls away...'

He quieted, murmuring into my skin, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I only realised he'd started to intersperse his words with tiny, gentle nips to my skin when a delicious tingling started around my neck and spread through my body.

I guess he sensed the change in me, because he tightened one arm while the other travelled up my back with smooth sweeps of his fingertips, ending in my hair. He cupped my head for a moment, then softly urged my head back with his grip on my hair, allowing him better access to my neck. He started to kiss a slow, deliberate trail up my bared throat, pressing against me. I moaned a little ... Riley just doesn't have this oral fixation.

The thought of Riley reminded me where I was and, much as I was enjoying Angel's attentions, I figured he needed to talk this out more than I needed him.

When his lips reached mine, I let myself savour one quick, sweet kiss, before pulling back. He tried to stop me, but I looked at him, letting my calmness show in my eyes, and he followed me down docilely into the bed as I lay back. I pulled his head to my chest, and I don't know how long we lay, my fingers caressing the nape of his neck, until he spoke again.

'She asked me to turn her back.'

'Vamp her again?' I asked quietly.

'Yeah,' he said, 'I couldn't. I couldn't even believe she was asking, you know? It's like ... the easiest way. It's not easy hanging on ... sometimes I thought I wouldn't even get through another minute, but she doesn't want to even try.'

'You can't make her,' I said carefully.

'I have to try,' he said hopelessly. 'Even if she's not a vampire, I still recognise her. She's still my sire. And, she's still in trouble. I won't abandon someone in her position. I can't. I would have given a lot to have had someone who knew.'

He went silent.

What could I say to that? I've never been in the position; never had my soul torn from me, only for it to be returned after centuries of killing. I don't know.

'Tell me about your past,' I said suddenly.

'Why?' he said.

'I've been talking to Spike,' I started.

He almost laughed, 'what do you have in common with Spike?'

'Slayer blood,' I told him.

'You mean ...'

'That he's killed them,' I said.

He stiffened and stated, 'you were asking him about the Slayers he's killed.'

'Yes,' I said simply.

'Why?'

In response, I grabbed his hand and brought it to my stomach with my own, pushing up my shirt and displaying the wound I got from the fight with. He drew in a sharp breath and ran his fingers over the mark lightly. I didn't mind; it's healed a lot, and his touch was soothingly cool.

'Routine patrol,' I told him, 'fighting a practical fledgling, for God's sake, and he stabbed me in the stomach. With my own stake.'

'But you're okay?' he said, leaning up on one elbow to gaze down at me with concern.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' I said, and started to cry.

He comforted me now, scooting up the bed to lean on the wall and pull me across his lap. He settled me comfortably, his arms back around my waist. I turned into his chest and sobbed, faintly registering the crooning nonsense words he spilled into my ear and his large hand rubbing my back reassuringly.

I cried for a minute or two more until I calmed, leaning against him and playing with a button on his shirt.

'It scared me,' I said.

'I know,' he said, resting his head on top of mine.

'I like to think of myself as invincible,' I confessed, 'it's so hard to think ... I guess I've become inured to it, but ... I am going to die doing this.'

'Maybe,' he said, and I could feel the effort it was for him to admit it.

'Not maybe,' I said calmly. 'I will.'

'Once you would never have admitted that,' he said, 'You would just have complained for days about your lack of a normal life.'

'So?' I asked, frowning a little.

'So now you're doing something about it,' he reminded me, 'you're not just accepting it, you're trying to keep going as long as you can, learning about other Slayers.'

'Spike thinks all Slayers have a death wish,' I said, 'even me.'

I felt his shrug. 'Maybe you do. But it doesn't mean you're going to give into it. Not now. Maybe not ever.'

'I've told you I want the peace,' I said, concentrating very hard on the fabric of his shirt.

'You have,' he agreed.

'So what if one day I just ... can't?' I said, unable to find the words.

He understood me well enough. 'Sounds like you already just couldn't,' he said, 'and yet here you are. Somebody find you? Help you?'

'Yeah,' I confirmed.

'And maybe that'll make the difference,' he said.

I sighed, 'Spike said that too.'

'And believe me when I say we came to the conclusion independently,' he said dryly.

I chuckled.

'I can be beaten,' I said with some difficulty. Half of fighting is in the confidence. Faith said something about that; not letting the negative thinking in, I think it was. But where she tripped up was not letting in any of the truth - you don't survive this gig. All you can do is try and keep doing it for as long as possible.

'That's part of mortality,' he said. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak he went on, 'and immortality.'

'Even the best aren't the bestall of the time,' I quoted. No, I can't tell you where from.

'Oh, you're always the best,' he said with pleasing certainty, 'but the day you win all the time will never come. You just have to make sure you lose in a way you can walk away from.'

'Someday I won't walk away,' I said again, 'and ... when ... that happens, will you look after the others? They'll be targets at first ... I don't want anything to ...'

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, effectively silencing me.

'You know I will,' he said tenderly.

'I love you,' I said softly.

He shuffled us inelegantly so that he was lying flat on his back and I was sprawled over his chest. I slid a leg between his and draped an arm across his chest, wrapping myself around him. He kept an arm around my shoulders.

'I was born in Galway, Ireland in 1727, the eldest son of a moderately wealthy land-owner,' he started. I closed my eyes and snuggled close against him.

I was out before he even got to being vamped, which I think I'm actually pretty glad about. Maybe someday I'll ask him again.

I fell asleep twice, in the real and dream dimensions, but only woke up once. Think that means I get double the sleep?

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