Disclaimer: nope, not mine. sigh! The title is the title of a book by Linda Howard, a great one btw, so if you ever get around it ... read it!
Rating: PG-13
Category: Angst, Romance
Pairing: B/A (duuuh)
Summary: two and their thoughts
Timeline: the morning after ... no, not after *that*
Feedback: yes, please! I need it.
Dedication: to Sara-Lee who is such a honey with sending wonderful feedback! Thanks.

Buffy's and Angel's/Josh's POV (alters)

I've heard that there are actually some people who fall asleep after a night like this. Well, I learned the hard way I'm not one of them. I was just glad the next day was a Sunday ... although a Monday would've been fine, lots of work, no time for thinking...

Anyway. The thing I was really glad for is that Aileen was staying with Cordy. Just to think to have a giddy two year old around ... a groan escapes my mouth and the noise and the slight movment causes a splitting pain in my head. God, I'm too old for this! Staying up all night, how often did I do this while I was still slaying? Nope, not anymore.

I pull the pillow over my head and pretend to be asleep as soon as I hear Willow and Oz outside. I can't talk to her right now, can't look into her face, see compassion ... or worse, pity, there. The picture showing Angel and I at the prom is still lying beside me. The picture that destroyed everything. God, what must he be thinking! He must feel so betrayed and used and ...

My body trembles painfully and I wish I could just take him in my arms and make all his pain go away, but of course I can't. And how am I ever supposed to find a way out of this mess? What can I say? Hey, that's not your twin on the picture, it's you, you just can't remember this! No, not the smartest way. Or, hey your name isn't really Josh. Someone erased your memories, but I still know ... not very good either.

Maybe it would be the smartest thing to just let him go and never see him again, but the mere thought makes me ache inside and my heart clenches painfully in my chest. My whole being, the inner soul, cries out for him, wants him, needs him. No, I can't let him go ... but how am I going to solve this?

****

I look at the sun and wonder if it's the real one. I see the tree in front of my window and actually envy it. The life of a tree is easy. A seed falls to the ground and a tree begins to grow. The leafes come and go, it sees winter, spring, summer, and autumn, the leafes change colour, the temperature changes, but life still goes on. And finally the wood brakes and the tree dies.

There's just life, plain and simple. No emotions, no ... love. Maybe life is better without it ... or maybe not.

I turn away from the window, run a hand through my hair and pour another cup of very strong, black coffee. I can't remember how many I had before, but there've been some. I lost count of coffee and count of time and I lost the grip on my life.

I don't exactly know what I felt when I saw the picture. First I thought, hey that's me and then I realised how much younger she's been then. And then something inside of me snapped. I couldn't think straight any longer. All I saw was a guy dancing with Buffy. A guy who looked like me was holding her in his arms and the love in her eyes was painfully obvious.

And I don't understand. I don't know what's going to happen now, I have not the slightest idea and that scares the hell out of me. Hell ... I have a sudden sense of Déjà-Vu, but instantly shake it off. Why should Hell sound familiar to me?

Buffy. What am I going to do? How am I going to handle that situation? She told me she loved me, I saw she loved me, but was it me? Was the love I saw in her eyes directed towards me or towards the guy who looked ... exactly like me. I can clearly remember the moment she fainted in her office thinking it was him and naive as I was I thought, alright, so you resemble someone she's known before ... loved before.

But of course ... blinded by love ... I didn't read the signs properly. She called me Angel ... his name. All the faraway looks I caught her with, the way her friends gasped and looked at me the first time we met. All that should've warned me, but of course it didn't.

A twin? But I know I never had one. But how is it possible? How can a person look exactly like me? Not just alike, but exactly like me? Maybe it would be the wisest thing to just turn away and let go, if ... well, if I wasn't so desperately in love with her. And if I didn't know that I can't let it go.

I need answers and I need them soon or I'm going to go nuts.

****

"So he found the picture," Giles looks at me with the same compassionate look he gave me when we found out that Angel had lost his soul or when I told him, Angel was leaving Sunnydale.

"Yeah," I sigh and frown. "What am I going to do now? Giles, he was devastated. You should've seen the look in his eyes. What am I going to do?"

My watcher puts his glasses off and rubs them with his cloth before taking them back on and then looking at me again, "I know I said he shouldn't know for his sake, but now," he stands and walks over to his bookshelf. "I kept all the books, showing old pictures of him, the tatoo, everything. The question is," he turns back to me and looks into my eyes, "how badly do you want to be with him? Because he won't be coming back without an explanation."

"Giles, I feel as if I can't breathe when he's not around. I know it might be selfish, but I can't ...," my voice breakes and a sob wracks my body, thinking I might never see him again, "I-I c-can't let him g-go. I c-can't be without him, n-not that way. N-not with him t-thinking I be-betrayed him," I sob.

"Well, then ...," he gives me an encouraging smile. "Why don't you bring him around ... say tonight at eight? And I'll do my best to make him see the truth. But of course I can't promise anything. It's still up to him if he believes the unbelievable."

"It'll hurt him," I'm suddenly not sure anymore if it isn't too selfish of me. Can I do that to him?

Slowly Giles shakes his head, "I doubt it will, at least not the way we think. Buffy, I've given all the this a lot of thought. He lost the memory, the pictures of these things. The things he did. If we tell him, it'll be like a story ... but the feeling, the actual memory is still missing. I think, he won't have a really hard time. Why don't we see what happens tonight?"

I look at him for a long moment and then finally nod. "Alright. Tongight."

And I just hope we're going to do the right thing.

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