Rating: PG
Summary: Buffy and Angel's reunion, from an outsider's point of view.
Disclaimer: Yes, they're mine. *evil laugh*
Feedback: Ooooh, pretty please?
Notes: I got this idea when I was thinking, what would an outsider have thought if they saw Buffy and Angel together? Out popped this little fic. I hope it's at least interesting…Sorry for the shortness, by the way. This was written in a record twenty minutes.
Notes2: Today I received a few awards for my little fics in the Halo Awards and the Drawn Together by Destiny Awards. I'm assuming that some of the judges are on these lists, so THANK YOU from the bottom of a lowly fic-writer's heart. ;)

I saw them together very briefly that night, but it was enough for me to recall the image for a long time. Of course, I had seen the blonde at the club often, usually by herself, always dressed to kill. I don't know why, but it had always seemed like she was waiting for someone, and now I understood.

The blonde was almost untouchable. She was small, but had an aura of power. Her eyes almost seemed to burn in your memory. She never spoke to any guys at the bar—never danced, never accepted offers of drinks. But she was beautiful and mostly alone, so the men kept approaching her, and kept getting rejected. I used to wonder if it bothered her.

Tonight, she was dressed entirely in black, with a gem sparkling on her right hand. She had arrived with a couple of friends that night. Her friends were at the bar, animatedly talking, occasionally moving to the dance floor. She sat quietly, glancing out the door every few minutes, waiting for that particular someone.

"Hey, baby, what's your sign?"

The woman stared at the drunken college guy drooling all over her in disgust. "Believe me, it's not compatible with yours," she said.

"Huh?" The guy looked at her in confusion, laughing like an idiot. Eventually, he wandered off in search of other girls, beer in hand. Slightly uncomfortable, the blonde moved seats, and suddenly she was sitting only a few places away from me. She had a delicate cross necklace around her neck, I noticed. Up closer, she was even prettier than I thought she was.

One of the blonde's friends, a redhead, came over, with a tall, dark-haired guy in tow.

"We're taking off," said the guy.

"Okay. I'll catch up later," said the blonde. "Call me later?" she asked.

"You bet," said the redhead, and she briefly touched cheeks with the blonde before heading out the door with the guy. The blonde was left by herself.

A slow, sexy song started up, and it seemed that everyone in the room was moving slowly, luxuriously, to the beat. Amongst the talking and dancing and laughing, the blonde was absolutely still. It made her the center of attention, in her own private world and thoughts. The world was alive around her, and she just sat. Waiting.

Suddenly, it seemed like all the energy in the room shifted. The blonde glanced over her shoulder at the door, and her eyes stayed focused there, the smallest smile playing over her lips.

Through the front entrance walked a tall, dark man, dressed in black like she was. He was very good-looking, and quite a few of the females there that night made eyes at him, flirting with their body language, looking him over like a piece of meat. He was unaware of them, or just maybe he just ignored them, because he didn't give them a second glance. His eyes were very dark, and haunted, I observed, and they were focused entirely on one person. The blonde.

She gazed up at him when he approached her. He sat beside her, and they spoke to each other, very quietly, for what seemed like hours, but later I realized that it had only been a few minutes. His face was urgent, like he was telling her something important. I watched carefully

Briefly, her eyes filled with tears. His hand gently stroked her cheek; she relaxed into his touch. Whatever he had told her, it had either been good news, or she had already forgiven him for it. She graced him with a lovely smile, he smiled back. Whispered words of love were exchanged; her bill was paid; he helped with her coat. She stood and together they walked towards the door. As they passed by me, he said something to her in her ear.

"Always," she replied, just loudly enough for me to hear. With a soft smile, gazing into his eyes, she took his arm. They left together, like a normal couple, going home together. I watched them go, with an odd sensation in my stomach, feeling like I had witnessed something I didn't quite have the words for, but something that I recognized as very, very special.

I saw them together for only a minute, but now I knew that the blonde was done waiting.

Try to guess what he told her. :) ivy_marsh@yahoo.com, remember.

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