Disclaimer: oh please, as if I even want to own them these days
Category: Angst/Drama
Pairing: B/A, mention of C/A, D/A, B/R
Rating: PG-13
Distribution: my site (http://www.never-ending-love.de), ffnet, if you have any of my stuff, just take it, anybody else please tell me where it goes
Spoilers: the whole Buffy-Angel-Saga, I have, however, not seen the latest episodes (I didn't want to be spoiled for another story I was writing), but it doesn't really matter for the story (I've heard rumours though), and you should read the first stories in the series called "Empty", and "Frozen".
Summary: Cordy comes to work at morning and finds something, she did (not) expect.
Timeline: a month after Connor disappeared
Feedback: oh yes, please!!!
Dedication: This is for the great ladies at Ducks babbleboard. I wouldn't make it through this without you!
Author's Note: I am a B/A-shipper, and in my book there's only one person who could help Angel in a situation like this. So if you are C/A or B/S, then just turn away now. You've been warned. And if you still want to send flames - send them on - I will forward them directly to Marti Noxon, David Greenwalt, and Joss Wheadon for what they're taking us through with this season.
Author's Note 2: I won't go into detail, but you still might get spoiled for season 6/3
Author's Note 3: For this story, Connor has disappeared and although the fang-gang has tried finding a way to get him back, all has been in vain.
And once more with the author's notes: Don't worry, I will continue all the other stories I'm currently writing. I promise. But I have the sudden urge to write this. I can't help it. It just pours out of me and so all I can do is go with the flow. < g >
Author's Note 5: I have neither seen the episode, nor read the transcript of the last Angel-episodes. I know Connor has been abducted, but I haven't read the details. And I only heard rumors about Cordy's vacation with Groo. Any faults because of it are mine, but as this story is mine, too, well … you get the point. I hope you'll enjoy nevertheless.

Even I have to admit that there is something sweet in finding a Slayer and a vampire asleep together. Especially knowing that I've been the one responsible for the reunion. The fact that they are lying on the sofa in the lobby and wear all their clothes certainly adds to the cuteness factor. Without fear of having my throat ripped out, I find myself smiling at the picture in front of me, then sighing slightly, I turn towards the counter only to run smack into Fred, who presses a hand over her mouth, then points at the couple on the sofa.

Not quite able to stop myself from rolling my eyes, I nod, and continue my way, only to hear a whisper.

"Who is she?"

"That's Buffy," I reply.

"Buffy? You mean the one who died and came back?" Then a gasp, "You don't think they did … uhm … you know."

I don't need to turn around to know that Fred has gotten beet red. The girl is older than me, and still can't use the word sex unless it's in a purely scientific sense. Sure, she was in Pylea for five years, but she's been back for one, too. And the way Gunn and she act around each other, one should think she would be able to talk about things she's doing. And may I just say ewww. Now I'm getting mental images of a naked Gunn and Fred and all my appetite for donuts is instantly gone.

"Hardly," I say, shooting Fred a look.

She clears her throat, "You sure?"

"Yeah, pretty much." With a vague gesture I indicate the sleeping couple. They still look dead to the world, and I'm glad. I think Angel hasn't slept a minute since Connor disappeared - at least I think he hasn't. And from what Tara told me on the phone, Buffy didn't get a whole lot of sleep either. Willow's ex-lover didn't go into detail, but I wasn't born yesterday. And besides, dying and coming back can't be easy.

I suddenly realise that Fred is still looking at me expectantly, "Fred," I say, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice. I'm not really annoyed, just don't feel like discussing the whole Angel/Buffy love-saga with someone who hasn't been there. And I suppose if you haven't you will never completely understand what it was about. Plus, don't think I didn't realise the way Fred has been watching Angel and I lately. There is this special light in her eyes that makes my skin crawl. But of course she's just a helpless romantic, and that's no reason to snap at her, so I take a deep breath before continuing. "If they … well, let me put it this way. We wouldn't be talking right now. We'd be dead. So I think it's a pretty safe guess that they've been sleeping. And I mean that in the literal sense."

"Oh," she nods, clearly flustered, and that moment she reminds me of Willow in highschool. And when she continues with a stuttering voice, the déja-vu is almost perfect. "Tha- that's good then. I mean it's good that Angel has been able to finally get some sleep."

"Amen to that," I agree. Angel has been like a zombie lately. When I came back, he was like a mad man, with Gunn trying to find a way to get through to him, Fred not being able to recognize the man she once admired - and still does, I'm sure of it - in the raging demon who was beating up people all over L.A. in order to find his son, and Wesley trying to stay out of the way. After he came back from the hospital, that is. He was beaten up pretty badly, the doctors kept him for over a week, and Wesley wasn't eager to leave either. Which, I may add, didn't surprise me at all. I wasn't particularly fond of him either, and I'm not sure if we can ever restore the trust that seemed so natural in our little crew. But that doesn't mean this way of ignoring each other is the better idea.

They still haven't talked, Wes and Angel, and it drives me crazy. I've been trying my best to help, but so far Angel even refuses to look at Wesley. And Wes carries too much guilt at the moment to take the first step. I'm afraid if this goes on our family will break apart. Angel hasn't said anything, but I can feel him retreating again. Not that he was ever one for the big talk, but ever since his epiphany and especially after Connor was born he was so much better, sometimes downright silly. And although I felt like smacking him over the head once or twice, I would prefer every silly joke he's been trying to tell us than watching this catatonic state he's been in since he realised Holtz had taken Connor to another dimension where Angel can't follow them.

When I decided to move to L.A. I was sure this would be the breakthrough in my life. I thought I was going to be rich and famous, find a husband who will read every wish from my eyes, and we will live happily ever after. Or at least that's what my former self desperately wanted to think. Deep down I knew pretty well that life wasn't a fairy tale, had lived through it when the IRS took everything, including my horse, but not in my wildest dreams I though I was going to work with a vampire with a soul, who - lucky me - was the ex of the one person I really envied. Buffy always seemed so strong, so invulnerable, all the things I wanted to be, and never could.

So there I was, stranded in L.A., with Angel, and Doyle with the cheap shirts, and the headaches that only partially came from receiving visions. Still, it was better than starving to death in a lonely apartment.

But gradually I really started to like what I was doing, realised how important it could be, and although I hated, hated that the only present Doyle ever gave to me were head splitting migraines, they also made me an important part of the team. Someone who was irreplaceable. I wasn't just Cordy anymore, the brunette nobody really needed, but never said so, I was the girl who had this gift, who sent the others on their missions, sometimes even helped them. We all became good friends, and everything seemed perfect. Okay, so things never were perfect, but after becoming a half-demon, receiving the visions was at least bearable. And this - the agency, the hotel, Angel, Wes, Gunn, even Fred, have become the family I never had.

The idea of losing all this, of our family falling apart …

I quickly turn my head so Fred won't see the tears gathering in my eyes. She thinks I'm this strong woman, this fierce warrior, and I like the idea, don't want to destroy the image by crying all over her. I can see her looking at my back and blink to keep the tears from falling. Taking several deep breaths I look back to the couple on the sofa, reminding myself that I already played my ace of hearts, when I realised that none of us was able to help Angel.

I remembered that there was someone, a girl, I tried my best to hate, yet always admired, a girl, Angel once loved with all his heart. I'm not sure what they feel for each other now, but I wouldn't be surprised if the feelings still existed, maybe buried deep down. But somehow I can't see a love like this dying completely. I've seen Angel after he received the news about Buffy's death, the way he behaved when he came back from Asia, and I know evasion tactics when I see them. He refused to talk to me. No, that's not true - we did talk, mostly because I forced him, but he never really opened up.

And that again reminded me of Buffy. I remembered the connection they had, and after weighing pros and cons, I finally picked up the phone and called Sunnydale, a town I tried my best to ignore it ever existed for the past three years, and got Tara on the phone. After talking to her for about half an hour I called Buffy, and she agreed to come. I know I was a bit rude, shocking her with news about Connor, but seeing how Angel was slipping away a bit more with each passing day, I didn't have time for pleasantries. He had this vacant look in his eyes, the one I've seen before. The first time he went on a rampage because of Darla, and the second time he left for Asia and didn't come back for months.

"I think they look cute."

I'd almost forgotten Fred was still standing beside me, and when I look up I see her gaze is directed at the sleeping Slayer and vampire, and I find myself smiling again. Where I would've acted annoyed some years ago, trying to hide the jealousy at their obvious connection, I'm now able to see the truth in Fred's words, and realise how much I've changed during the years I've been with Angel. I'm not really sure what caused that change, and I like the idea that it just came out of my own hidden depths, but I know that Angel has been a big part of it. His dedication, the way he was carrying his own fate, and made my own problems look small in comparison, and last but not least the people we helped, made me see that my own life was shallow and pitiful before I came to L.A.

Angel never gives up, even when he's lying on the ground he picks himself up, and moves on. And I'm sure that's the main reason his present state worries me the way it does. He hasn't even made an effort to pick himself up. It's as if he's lost his reason. Or maybe he just lost himself. And I only know one way to bring him back, as much as I hate to admit it.

"Yeah, they look cute," I agree with Fred, and she gives me a smile.

"Do you …," she clears her throat, "… I mean, does it bother you?"

I look at her and there is this light in her eyes again, and it's actually mixed with pity, "What?" I ask, my voice a bit louder than intended.

"Well," she says, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. And she should be. She knows I went on vacation with Groo, she should be over her romantic fantasies. I have to smile thinking about Groo, still asleep in my apartment. Or at least I hope he is.

I frown. Dennis went into a jealous fit the moment he realised Groo was going to stay. And at t least for now he's going to. There's a lot he has to learn of our dimension, first and foremost that women are looking at him with appreciation in their eyes, something that's entirely foreign to him. The first time we went to a beach, he was so embarrassed he looked like a ripe tomato the whole day, and couldn't take his eyes from the ground. If that isn't cute in a man who looks like a hunk, I don't know what it is. I'm not sure if it's wise to let myself fall in love with him, but I'm afraid it's too late already. I just hope Dennis isn't going to drive him away. I love Dennis, I really do, and I love my apartment, so I don't want to be forced to choose if it comes to it.

"… thought that you and Angel … you know."

My head comes up with a jerk, and I realise I haven't been listening to Fred, only hear the last of her undoubtedly long explanation why it should bother me that Angel and Buffy are sleeping together on the sofa. But the last part registers in my head, and I shake it emphatically, "No." I'm glad my voice sounds firm and strong, because I feel the sudden urge to scream. Like Willow, Fred has a deep rooted romantic streak and with her own happiness, she wants everyone to join in. "I mean … I like Angel, don't understand me wrong. I love him … but not that way."

"Oh." Again that word, and that startled look. For a moment I wonder if Willow did a spell and gave Fred a part of her mind. "Well, that's good then." She glances back at the sofa, "Gunn will be here with donuts in a moment."

"Good, because I'm starving." When I catch her startled look, I explain, "Groo was still asleep this morning, and I didn't want to wake him by clattering pans and plates."

She blushes, and I have to shake my head, "Oh. Of course."

The same moment the door opens and the object of her admiration steps into the lobby, "Yo, is anybody there?"

Fred hurries to his side, pressing an urgent finger on her lips, "Shhhhh," she hisses, pointing at the sofa where Buffy slowly stirs.

Gunn's eyes widen, and after giving the couple a long, hard look, he walks over to where I'm standing behind the counter, places his bag of donuts right in front of me. "Who's the babe?"

"That's Buffy," Fred whispers.

One of his brows rises, "That's the Slayer?" His voice is so incredulous, I can't help but grin. "Thought she'd be bigger." Then he nods, more to himself, "Yeah, I'm sure it gives her a certain advantage. I mean, I'm sure some of the vamps don't take her very seriously."

"Yeah, and they're all dust in the wind these days."

We all turn and see Buffy coming over, yawning, her hair dishevelled from sleep, she rubs her eyes. "Is there any coffee around?"

"I already made some," Fred hurries to answer, awe in her eyes. "You want me to get you a cup?"

"That'd be great." The smile on Buffy's face is a bit forced, but her eyes show that she really means it. They're incredibly sad and I wonder what happened to her to put that look into them.

"So you found him," I say, nodding at Angel who hasn't moved an inch.

If it's possible the sadness in her eyes deepens. "Yeah. I have. I'm not sure I can be of any help though."

"Hey, he's asleep," I reply quickly, trying to show her how important her presence is. When I called her I played my ace of hearts. I don't know what to do if this doesn't work out. "Believe me, that's a real progress."

"Yeah," Gunn confirms, reaching out his hand, "I'm Gunn by the way."

She takes it, shakes it, "Buffy. Nice to meet you. Cordy mentioned you on the phone."

He grins, "Yeah? What did she say? Be aware of the black guy, he isn't house trained."

This time her smile is genuine. "Something like that," she jokes, then shakes her head, "No. She just said you were a friend."

I can see how much her answer pleases Gunn, and wonder if it's been wise to say it. If I'm not careful he's going to be cocky again, and a real pain in the ass. So I give him a good glare, but he just grins, and I know I'm going to regret this one day. Probably soon.

Fred comes back and Buffy takes the cup from her hand. "Thanks." She sips, her face serious again, "He's … different," she says, her eyes on Angel's sleeping form. "I … I'm not sure I … he's so … full of grief … so …," she shakes her head, takes another sip, then stares into her cup.

"He lost his son, what do you imagine him to be?" I ask, trying to keep my voice gentle and soft. I don't want it sound like an accusation. The way she looks, I'm afraid a mere breeze might blow her away. She's so thin, I'm quietly wondering if she might be anorectic, and if I'd didn't exaggerate when I told Gunn she was this strong Slayer. Right now she looks more like a fragile doll, than the girl who saved the world more times I can count.

"I guess I can't," she says quietly, her eyes still on her coffee, "imagine, I mean. I lost my mom … but … I suppose losing a child …," she shakes her head, and I can see she's blinking rapidly, "No, I can't imagine. But what I can see is that he's lost … and that's where I can relate."

"He's hardly spoken to us," Fred's soft voice sounds through the hall. "We all tried, except Wes, that is. But so far he's blocked everything and everyone."

"He would," Buffy says and her voice sounds so convinced it gives me shivers. And even more so as she continues, "There are things you can't share. Things … so profound … so … Well, things," she finishes, emptying her cup with a long last gulp, puts it on the counter, and walks over to where Angel is still sleeping.

I watch her go, and wonder if by trying to help Angel, she might help herself, too.

So, that's it for now. This series will continue, if … well, if you want, that is. I really need to know what you think of this piece of fic. Thanks for reading and please send feedback or leave a review!

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