Disclaimer: nope, not mine; the title is taken from a great book by Nora Roberts, so it isn't mine too. If you ever come around it ... read it.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: B/A
Category: Angst, Romance
Spoilers: the whole B/A-cannon; the previous stories in the series: "Without
You", "One in a Million", "You are the One", "On Silent Wings". If you need any of them, just tell me and I will send them.
Summary: Secrets are difficult to keep.
Dedication: to Ducks who - although she's not too well - manages to continue her great story "Worlds of Longing".
Buffy's POV
It's so wonderful to have him back. To turn around and see Angel, to see him smile, even laugh, to talk to him, to go to dinner with him, to swim. To see Andrew playing with Aileen. It's plain heaven.
And it's frustrating like hell.
Have you ever tried to keep a secret? I mean not some simple, unsignificant secret. I mean a big, big, big one, like say, not telling someone about his past? Don't try. It makes you want to scream all the time. How for example am I supposed to tell him about my past without mentioning him who has been so important, who has been the reason for so many things?
He has been my reason for going on, for keeping up the good fight, for not just running away from all the horrors and the blood in the final battle. Even thinking - although hoping differently - he was dead I kept my head high, honouring his last wish to try to be happy.
And now he sits there in front of me, our children playing in the sand near by, the sun shining down on us and although it has been five weeks alltogether I still can hardly believe it's really true. Andrew is very good with Aileen. Angel said that other kids often mock about his being slow, but Aileen simply adores him. She is too small to see that he has a slight problem, for her the teenage boy is just like a highly adored older brother. And he behaves like her humble servant. It's so cute to watch them together, I have to pull myself together not to cry at the lovely picture.
After the initial shock had faded my friends wanted to know all about Angel/Josh and we were discussing the possibilities of regaining his memories. Cordelia even offered to try to contact the PTB, although she told me that she wouldn't take the headaches back under any circumstances. But there was no contacting them. After the final battle there were no warriors existing anymore and for this nobody could contact the higher powers. So that was a dead end.
Giles tried to find anything in his books but failed as well. Then he looked at me for a long moment. Finally he asked, "Do you really want him to remember?"
And ever since I've been asking myself the same question. And also what would be the cost of it? Do I want him to remember for himself or for my sake? He is happy the way he is. He has no cue about the 250 years as a vampire, especially not about the ones as Angelus.
The PTB obviously decided there was a reason to erase all his memories. They gave him a clean, fresh start. He has redeemed himself and for this nothing before that counts. Sure they took away the wonderful moments we had together, but they also took away all the pain, the images that were torturing him ever since he regained his soul. You could see them very clearly in the depth of his chocolate eyes. Now he is a new man. Literally. God, this is so hard. I wish someone could tell me what to do about it.
"Where are you?," Angel's voice interrupts my thoughts and turning I see him smiling at me.
"Huh?"
"You looked as if you've been far away."
"Just thinking," I reply and smile back. "I like the way our kids are with each other."
"Yeah," he agrees, but I can hear the frustration in his voice and reach out and touch his hand.
"What is it?," I ask.
"You were thinking about him again, weren't you," he draws a harsh breath and combs his fingers through his still spiky hair. "You say you want to spend time with me but ever so often I find you staring into space and you have that ... that look in your eyes. Then I know it's about him."
I stare at him, a loss of words. How on earth am I going to reply to this? I want to shout, 'no, there isn't another, it's you, only you, it's always been you', but he would think I'm crazy.
He laughs unhappily, "Look, I don't blame you for this. I can understand that a person can be so important for you ...," he stops and swallows hard, then continues, "... ever since I met you I can understand that very well." When I try to say something he holds up his hand, "No, please, let me finish. As I said, I don't blame you. You cannot do anything about your feelings and I told you before that I don't expect you to forget about him. But what I need to know," he takes another deep breath, "I need to know if you think there's a chance for us. Because if there's not ... I'm better going to walk away now when there's still a slight chance to glue my heart together afterwards."
"A...," start, then catch myself the last moment and say, "Josh, I am sorry if you think I'm thinking about another. I swear I didn't. There's nobody on my mind but you. Please believe me," I plead and take both of his hands. "I ... I love you Josh," I admit, suddenly realising how important the words are for him.
The odd expression in his eyes following my confession almost makes me laugh. He just stares at me. Long. Then he blinks. And blinks again and then with a soft groan he pulls me into his arms and presses me against his hard chest, holding me so tightly I can hardly breathe. "Buffy," he mumbles into my hair, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Oh, Buffy. I love you too," he says and my arms tighten around his neck.
After a moment our lips find each other and we kiss, longingly, deeply and lovingly. Our tongues stroking, the teeth nibbling, we both needing this more than anything at the moment.
"Ewww, stop this, it's disgusting," Andrew's sudden shout makes us pull back slightly. Our foreheads touching our eyes sparkle and we laugh. "Why do adults always have to kiss each other?," Angel's step-son asks.
"They do it because they love each other," his step-father replies not letting go of me. "You'll do it too. When you're old enough."
"Certainly not," Andrew insists and in this moment he is like any other 12 year old boy and there's nothing of the slightly demented child. It must be a hormone-thing, I decide. "Girls are stupid."
The same moment Aileen's eyes beside him water and her lower lip begins to tremble. "Don't you wike me?", she asks him, her expression so shattered I want to reach out and take her in my arms. But Angel slightly shakes his head, indicating that we should leave them doing this on their own. I nod, hoping he knows his step-son as good as he thinks.
He does, I know a second later, when Andrew bents down, his eyes full of regret. "I'm sorry, Ally," he says. "I didn't mean you. You're *my* girl and besides, you're more like my sister."
She beams looking at him, "I wove you," she says and flings her arms around his neck. He scoops her up and then runs with her to the sand-castle they've been building before.
Angel and I smile into each other's eyes. "It seems it's the day of confessions," he jokes. "All the Summers-girls telling *their* boys 'I love you'."
"I really do," I say, "Love you, I mean. So very much." I kiss him softly, "And maybe I can get Cordelia and Gunn to look after the kids next weekend," I add with a wink.
He grins, "Miss Summers, you have wicked thoughts."
"Hmmm," I sigh, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I certainly have. I mean, look at you. Any woman would be tempted." His answer is a laugh and then without warning he does the same as his step-son, just scoops me up into his arms, but instead of a sand-castle he runs towards the water, laughing even harder when I begin to shriek when the water splashes against my sun-warmed skin. "Angel, you rascal."
Laughing we sink into the water, embracing each other and kissing again. And somehow it's not important anymore if he knows about his past. Looking into his laughing, sparkling eyes I wonder if it would do him any good at all. I wouldn't want to take that happiness from him. Not for all the wonderful memories in the world.
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