DISCLAIMER: You don't really need me to tell you, do you? No, thought not. Title nicked from a song by Live. Apparently.
TIMELINE: Post 'The Replacements' and 'First Impressions'.
SPOILERS: See above. Season 5 spoilers!!! Oh, and To Shanshu In LA.
SYNOPSIS: You don't really need me to tell you this either, do you? Okay ... Buffy dreams of Angel.
DISTRIBUTION: Just take it and link me.
FEEDBACK: Please *do* feed the animal.
RATING: PG

The first couple of nights, I wondered where he was. I'm not completely oblivious; I have noticed that the dreams come soon after the Big Bad of the week goes. And this week Toth was dead and Xander was Xander rather than Xanders, and he didn't come.

I missed him. It. Them. I miss him more generally now, in a way. It's comforting to know how he's doing, what's going on in his life, but sometimes all it does is remind me that *I'm* not going on in his life. And if something happened to him - hurt, kidnapped - I wouldn't necessarily get told. Probably haven't been told more than once.

I'm sure he's not dead, because I think Cordelia might remember to pass that on. And I'd know, anyway. If he were gone. I'm certain I would.

So I was wondering why he hadn't appeared. And I decided if the vampire wouldn't come to the Slayer; well, the Slayer would have to go to the vampire.

*******

I'm not even sure how I did it. Everyone knows that wanting to dream something is the best way to guarantee that you won't; but it worked for me this time.

I found myself in his apartment, the only place I can associate with him in LA, though I do remember him mentioning he'd moved. Active listening; it's the way forward. I shouldn't remember this place well enough to dream of it, recreate it; I was here once and I was in something of a bad mood. But even that first time, when Faith was here, it all seemed familiar, somehow.

Well, it contains the essence of Angel. How could it be anything but?

He was sitting on the couch, his stiff back to me, staring into space.

'Angel?' I said tentatively, sidling up.

He didn't answer. I tried again, reaching out to touch him gingerly on the shoulder.

His speed surprised me as he spun around, knocking my hand away, his face contorted, seconds away from vamp mode.

I shied back, instantly falling into a fighting stance; my body feels its mate around him, but it also senses vampire.

He looked at me blankly, focusing on me, and his arm dropped back down.

'Buffy ...' he said slowly, peering at me half-fearfully.

'Hi!' I said, falsely perky, 'It's okay for me to come here, right? Only I -'

He interrupted me by clambering easily over the back of the couch, reaching for me and pulling me against him tightly. I reached up instinctively, wrapping my arms around his neck. I held him to me with at least as much force as he used to clutch at me, not knowing the source of his ... fear? Worry? I don't know, but I responded to him the way he responded to me a hundred times when we were together; comforting, soothing, without need for words or explanation. Understanding.

'We shouldn't be here,' he said, his voice muffled in my hair. I felt his head raise from its resting place on mine, and he glanced around.

'It's - not right, here. Past.'

I pulled back from him. Okay, so we do need *some* words.

'What?' I said elegantly.

He looked at me and in his eyes I saw confusion.

Then I heard the crackling, smelled the smoke.

'Oh my God!' I freaked, whirling around, grabbing Angel, trying to pull him away. He batted my hands away absently.

'It's okay,' he said.

'It's okay!' I shrieked, 'Angel, we're in the basement of a burning building!'

'In a dream,' he said.

I remembered. 'Oh,' I said, 'Okay, I'm embarrassed.'

He wasn't listening to me. He reached for me again, pulling me against him with one rigid arm around my waist. I followed where his gaze was locked; on the stairs leading up.

Where Wesley lay unconscious.

I would have had a mini-freak, but Angel showed no other reaction than to cling to me almost painfully. We listened to Angel's voice shout frantically for Wesley. We watched while Angel appeared - another Angel - and grabbed Wesley, carrying him upstairs, presumably to safety. My Angel looked on, steadfast and emotionless as his other self came and went, ignoring our presence.

Oh, hey! I think I dreamed myself a headache. As if double-Xander wasn't enough of that theme.

And then other-Angel and Wesley were gone and so were the lingering traces of fire, and we stood on an open street in the midst of a black, smoking ruin. Angel kicked the pathetic remains of a Byzantine axe.

'You can't trust any workmanship these days,' I joked feebly.

I regretted it as soon as our eyes met, and I flinched inwardly at the reproach in his gaze.

'I'm sorry,' I said quietly. 'This happened? It's why you moved?'

'Yeah, it happened,' he answered expressionlessly.

It was clear that wasn't the whole story, and I would have asked him about it, but he fixed his eyes on me and took my hand, saying, almost childlike, 'I don't want to be here.'

I looked at him questioningly. He tightened his grip and said plainly, 'Take us somewhere else.'

I kept looking at him; and I saw in his eyes where to go.

*******

We sat awkwardly in the mansion, no fire going as there always was in the real version. In fact, I'm not sure where the light was coming from; a pale glow with no apparent source. Not all the better to see you with, my dear. It was like some houseproud ghost trying to hide the dust.

'So ... any demons this week?' I offered, trying to kickstart the conversation. Any conversation.

'Yeah,' he said shortly.

I waited hopefully to see if he would elaborate, but it soon became apparent he wasn't about to.

'Well, we had a great week,' I babbled senselessly, desperate to fill the silence, 'Xander got himself split into two by some demon trying to make me normal Buffy and Slayer Buffy -'

That seemed to break through.

'But it didn't work,' he said carefully, running his eyes over me. I felt a low-down tickle which I immediately banished with a stern reminder to Those Parts.

'No,' I said, 'It got Xander, I told you. Except we ended up with cool Xander and bumbling Xander. But the real Xander at least got a promotion and a new apartment out of it, so we helped him move a couple of days ago, not that Anya was a lot of help, or Willow either, or actually Riley, so I was doing most of the heavy carrying, and I guess the way forward is removal men, except for the expense factor ...' my inane monologue trailed into oblivion at his detached gaze on my face.

'Is it always about you?' he asked in a voice devoid of anything resembling interest.

I flushed and evaded his eyes. 'I ...'

No. This is wrong. Angel's never minded hearing about my life before. Even in my other dreams.

'Angel ... are you okay?' I ventured.

'Fine,' he said, pretty unconvincingly.

'Aren't I always?' he went on rhetorically, with a tiny tinge of bitterness that shocked but also touched me. Angel is one of the bravest people I know ... he accepts his pretty crappy lot in life quietly and he gets on with his stuff. It's not like him to dwell. Brood, yes, and constantly, but he's never bitter.

'You don't have to be always,' I tried.

He snapped his head up to look at me, 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Nothing,' I said, surprised and worried. I shifted over to sit closer to him and said quietly, 'Isn't there ... come on, there's gotta be someone around to take care of you.'

I pushed my hair over my shoulder absently. His gaze shifted, focusing for a moment on the blond strands, and then some realisation came over his face and he stared back at me with narrowed eyes, his expression akin to hatred.

I never thought I'd see Angel look at me with hatred.

'You can't leave me anything, can you?' he said softly, dangerously.

'What?' I said, badly confused, 'Angel, I don't know what -'

He was up in one graceful movement, going quickly over to the exit. Before he left, he paused and turned around, pinning me with a dark look.

'You're dead,' he said precisely. 'Stay out of my head.'

And then he was gone. And I was lost.

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