Buffy scolded herself inwardly for thinking about Angel again. But with an inward sigh she knew it was in vain. No matter how hard she tried to get him out of her head, it was no use. What annoyed her even more was the fact that she felt irritated that he hadn't called or come to her apartment so far.

Three days ago he had gotten her to promise to have lunch with him some day and he hadn't called. Not once. You're an idiot, she told herself silently while strolling through the Sunnydale mall. It was the first time she'd come here since she'd stopped drinking a week ago. She needed some distraction to get her mind off her problems, namely Angel and Joyce.Her eldest daughter was still openly hostile towards her mother, talked to her only if there was no other way around it, had blocked all of Buffy's attempts to get her to move back home. The social worker had agreed that Ben and Marlie should go home with her mother, even encouraged it and explained to Willow that the stability of caring for kids was important for Buffy at the moment and that the children simply needed their mother. Willow had agreed wholeheartedly. It had distressed her a great deal to see her best friend so unhappy.

Joyce was meant to go home as well, but she plainly refused. Willow and Tara had tried to talk to her, reason with her, but the girl was stubborn. With a shake of her head and a little laugh, Buffy had to admit that it was a streak that came from her. Riley had never really been stubborn. No, the former commando had been very understanding, loving and gentle with all of them. Sighing again, Buffy pushed another pang of guilt aside and tried to concentrate on the shops she was walking by. Maybe she would find something for Joyce.

"Well, if that isn't the Buffster bright and ready to kick."

Grinning, she looked up. There was no mistaking the voice, she'd known more than half her life, "Xand," she exclaimed happily. "What a surprise. Hey Tony," she greeted the little boy sitting astride his father's shoulders, grinning as well. Anthony Harris was three years old and center of everyone's attention in the Harris family. He'd come when nobody had expected him. Anya had already been in the fourth month until she'd realized she was really pregnant and after being stunned for a short while they had welcomed him with open arms. He was seven years younger than his next sibling, Jesse, with the twins being 14 now and his eldest brother, Alex, who was 16 and sometimes acted as if Tony was his own.

"Buffy," the boy cried happily, reaching out his little arms towards here.

"Now that's a guy after my own heart. Three years old and already a ladies man," Xander joked and removing the child from his shoulder he handed it to the blond.

She smiled at him, one of her two oldest and best friends, streaks of gray in the hair at his temples, but the smile on his face still full of the same mischief it had always been. "What are you doing here?" she asked, holding Tony's little body close to hers.

"I took a day off because Tony insisted of choosing the birthday present for his sisters all by himself."

Buffy's eyes widened and then she slapped herself on the forehead, "Jenny's and Kerry's birthday, of course. They're going to be fifteen. My God, the time is racing."

"True words of an adult," Xander remarked and grinned. "But you're right. It's hard to believe that we were ever been that young." He sighed almost dramatically and made Buffy grin. Grinning himself, he said, "We're having the party next week and of course you and the kids are invited. Jesse wouldn't be able to celebrate without Ben and I'm not sure, but I think Alex has a crush on your daughter."

"God help me," Buffy groaned, but her grin didn't fade. "A long time ago, it seems like a lifetime, my mom said I had no idea what parenting was until my kids started dating, I had no idea how right she was."

"The joys of parenthood," Xander said with all the knowledge of the five-time father. He reached out to swap his son back in his arms. "He's heavy," he remarked, ignoring the protest of his youngest, "and you're no slayer anymore."

"Unfortunately," she replied, stretching her aching arms, "that's true. Most of the time I can't believe I miss it. But I do. Some nights I think it would be kind of neat to go out and pummel some demon or..." she trailed off, her gaze on Tony who was listening with curiosity. "Not the best subject at the moment," she said.

"Oh, I don't mind. With Anya as a mother, they can't help knowing about a lot of strange things," he grimaced, "Tony's first word was demon."

Buffy bit her lower lip and stifled a laugh. Anya's kid knowing the word demon before anything else was extremely amusing. It figured. "Well-" she started, but was cut off when Xander's expression suddenly changed to one of utter amazement, and he muttered, "Willow already told me he was human, but seeing him here in the sunlight. I think I need to sit down."

"Huh?" Buffy stared at him for a moment, and then whirled around to see what had caused his sudden reaction. Of course she should have know, she told herself, when her eyes fell on Angel who was walking towards them wearing faded blue jeans that were snug enough to be like a second skin and a long sleeved colorful shirt. The clothes were so totally un-Angel, that she couldn't help gaping at him.

He stopped a few feet away, his eyes flickering to Xander for a moment, before they rested on her, "Buffy," he smiled, taking another, tentative, step towards them. "Hello, Xander and hi," he said, grinning at Tony, "Whoever you are."

"Angel," Buffy replied, a little bit annoyed with the joy that flooded her at his sight, "That's Tony. He's Xander's youngest."

"Hi Tony," Angel said instantly and was rewarded by the boy with a wide grin and an enthusiastic, "Hi," in return.

"Hey, Angel," Xander said, looking a little bit faint. Willow had told him about Angel being in Sunnydale, had even told him that he was human now, but to see the ex-vampire in the sunlight, wearing what other guys did, and looking the same as he had before, was a bit much. "You look... good."

"Thanks," Angel took the compliment with an easy smile that made Buffy's stomach flutter. Gee, she was forty years old but being near Angel made her feel like a teenager.

He directed his gaze at the blond, "I was looking for you. I tried to call you but you weren't at your apartment and Willow told me you were going to the mall."

While Xander simply raised his brows, Buffy found herself smiling back at him, "Looking for me, huh? Whatever for?"

"You said you would have lunch with me, maybe a cup of coffee?" he replied, then turned his wrist to look at his watch, "It's almost 12:30, so..." he trailed off, gazing at her expectantly.

The ex-slayer's eyes widened slightly, "Oh... yeah, well..." she turned to look at Xander, but he held his hand up. "Don't look at me," he said. "Go, have your coffee. You've grown much too thin anyway," he grinned when he saw her roll her eyes. "Besides, Tony and I need to keep looking for a present for his sisters."

Buffy gave her friend a last glance, then sighed, "Well, it seems I'm free. So coffee it is. Why don't we - oh shi..." she smiled apologetically at Xander, for her slip in front of his youngest, but he just grinned. "I mean, I forgot about the kids. I need to get Ben from school and then Marlie is with Willow today, I need to get her afterwards. I'm sorry, Angel, I can't."

Angel was about to answer, when Xander put a hand on the blonde's shoulder, "No worries. I need to pick up Jesse, so I just take Ben too and drive him to Willow's. You can pick up both kids there later. What do you think?"

Buffy bit her lower lip, "Only if-""It's absolutely no problem," Xander said, quickly glancing at Angel. "Go, have some coffee. Enjoy your day." He practically shoved her towards the ex-vampire. "Have fun," he added and winked, then slowly walked away talking to his son, inwardly discussing if he might be possessed. Had he actually tried to give Buffy the opportunity to be with Angel?

*

They found a free table at a little coffee shop that had opened about two years ago. Willow and Buffy came to it from time to time to meet and just talk. The owner was Italian, and the witch swore he made the best coffee on this planet. When the waiter, whose name was Giovanni, spotted them, he came rushing over.

"Ahhh, la bella bionda signora," he smiled appreciatively at Buffy, ignoring Angel's instant scowl. "Giovanni," Buffy smiled at him, then introduced Angel to him. "This is a friend of mine. Angel. We need some coffee, Giovanni. Decaf for me."

The waiter rolled his eyes, but obediently wrote her order down. "Decaf," he shook his head while writing, "What a horrible American custom. Why drinking coffee at all if not for the caffeine?" he shook his head again, then shifted his gaze towards Angel, "Ah, I understand. What an appropriate name." His eyes traveled with the same expression over the ex-vampire as they had over Buffy just before and Angel couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. From the glimpse in the waiter's eyes it was unmistakable that the man was gay. It wasn't that Angel was a prude, but blame it on his 18th century and Irish catholic upbringing that he didn't like the way Giovanni was looking at him. Inwardly the ex-vampire shook his head over his own behavior. He had been a vampire for 250 odd years and there was probably nothing on this planet he hadn't seen or done.

He forced himself out of his thoughts when he saw Giovanni looking at him expectantly, "Espresso for me," he told him and with an approving nod the waiter left.

Turning his head, Angel saw Buffy grinning at him, "It's kind of cute to see you like that," she remarked.

"Like what?" he asked, but of course knew what she was talking about.

"Like you don't know what to do. And to see that for all your long lifetime experience you're still very 18th century."

He chuckled, "I just thought the same thing. I really don't mind people being gay or lesbian. I really don't. Hell, I even-" he stopped himself, not willing to go there, "But there is some part of me, deep down, I don't even realize it's there most of the time and then," he shook his head again, "zap, there it is."

"I don't mind," she replied, smiling now, "I like you the way you are. Old fashioned manners and all. Do you know that you and maybe Giles are the only men I know who always get up when a woman is in the room? Xander doesn't even know what that means. Don't get me wrong. I love him dearly. He's one of the best friends I ever had, but he's hopeless."

"He's Xander," Angel said with a mixture of sarcasm and humor in his voice that made Buffy laugh.

"That's as true as can be. There isn't really a word in this world to describe him. Anya calls him unique," she laughed again, "And that from a woman who was a demon for over 1000 years and who's unique in her own way."

"Slaying certainly provides an uncommon circle of friends," he replied with a smile.

"Yeah," Buffy agreed, "but I couldn't wish for better ones. I was gifted with a father I never would've had otherwise, and with two friends who went with me through thick and thin."

Angel wanted to comment, telling her that she'd also gotten a husband out of the whole deal, but Giovanni came and brought their coffees. Before the waiter left he winked at Angel, which made the ex-vampire groan as soon as he had left their table. When he saw Buffy grin wickedly, Angel glared at her, "It's not funny."

"Oh, yes it is," she replied, laughing hard, "Usually the women are at the receiving end of such things. It's a nice change to see a man squirm instead."

"I don't squirm."

"Do too," she said, still grinning. "You said yourself that you don't like the way he's looking at you." She giggled, "He thinks you're a dish, and I can't really blame him." Suddenly realizing what had just slipped over her lips, she broke off in embarrassment and color began to rise up her neck. "I-" she started, averting her eyes, but he reached out and put one of his large hands on hers.

"Don't," he said quietly, "I already told you, you are still beautiful, maybe even more, because you're a mature woman now, not the girl you once were. And I'm glad that you like looking at me. I mean, I'm not fixated on looks. Not at all, but it's part of the whole package and I'm really very attracted to it. The package, I mean. You." He ended with a smile, waiting for her to raise her head and look at him.

"Angel, please, don't," she whispered, her voice anguished, she tried to pull her hand away.

He didn't let her, "Buffy. You know that I'm attracted to you. I was from the first moment I saw you and that hasn't changed. And you would be a fool if you didn't know that I want a relationship with you. It's up to you what kind. And you're attracted to me."

"I'm not-" she whispered a weak protest.

"The hell you're not," he said forcefully, his voice rising. "Why are you denying it? I can feel your hand trembling in mine. I could see it in your eyes when I kissed your hand the last time we saw each other. Why are you fighting it? You're still a young woman, Buffy. There is so much waiting for you. Or did you love Riley so much that you want to spend the rest of your life mourning him?"

Buffy stared at him as if he'd slapped her. She made a little noise of distress, and then clamped her free hand over her mouth to stop a moan. Her eyes were huge and full of pain. Pulling her hand away from his with all her might, she got clumsily to her feet, snatched her jacket from the back of her chair and yanked it on.

Angel stood as well, "Buffy, I'm sorry," he murmured, reaching out, taking hold of her arm. "I didn't mean-"

"Leave me alone!" she hissed. Tears were burning her eyes and she tried to pull free, to escape, before she would break down in front of him and cry.Oh, God, she couldn't do it.

She couldn't bear this.

She couldn't... couldn't... couldn't...

"I don't want to be near you," she whispered, her voice anguished again, "I don't want... Just let go of me!"

"Oh, hell," Angel ran his free hand through his hair, "I didn't mean to upset you, baby, I..."

She twisted free and took a step back as her first tear fell. He stood there, looking so uncertain, so angry with himself for saying what he had, so distressed, and he didn't try to reach for her again. Taking a ragged breath, she wiped the tears away, "Don't call me baby," she hissed, ignoring the way her gut twisted at the sight of him, "I'm not your baby. I'm... Just stay away," she ordered, then turned and bolted from the coffee shop.

*****

The bottle looked so tempting. The liquid would soothe her nerves, would warm her from the inside, where she was so cold, so cold and alone. It would be so easy to give in, she thought, to forget the anguish and pain Angel's words had caused her.

Buffy had run all the way home and only when she closed the door behind her, she allowed herself to relax a little bit.

'Did you love Riley so much that you want to spend the rest of your life mourning him?' Angel had asked. God, he had no idea. He had absolutely no idea.

"Of course he hasn't, how would he? You told him you loved Riley."

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Why was this happening to her, for God's sake? She wasn't a slayer anymore, so why on earth was her apartment suddenly haunted.

"Because you need me," Joyce Summers said simply, materializing in the middle of her daughter's living room.

"I don't need you," Buffy ground out through gritted teeth. "Not at all."

"What do you need then?" her mother tilted her head and eyed the younger blond speculatively. "A glass of Bourbon? Well," she nodded at the untouched bottle on the shelf, "go ahead. Open it. But it won't change anything. Granted, you'll probably feel better for a little while, but the problems won't go away. They will still be waiting for you the moment, you wake up again. Nothing will change the fact that you never loved your husband."

Buffy's head jerked around, and she stared at her mother, her breath ragged, "I did love Riley," she replied, her voice strained. "I loved him."

"Yes, of course you did," Joyce said gently, "I should've tried to explain myself better. You loved him, yes. But you were never in love with him. You were married to him for almost 20 years. You had three children and he loved you more than anything in the world, but you-"

"Stop," Buffy shouted, tears streaming down her face, "Stop," she pleaded, "Please, stop."

"No," her mother said mercilessly, coming closer, "It's time to face the truth, honey. Running away from it, doesn't change it either. The reason why you push Angel away is that you feel guilty because you couldn't give Riley the kind of love you still feel for Angel. Am I right?"

"NO," Buffy shouted again, frantically shaking her head, "No, no, no," she repeated like a mantra. "I did love Riley. I loved him. I loved... Oh God," she moaned finally, breaking down on the floor, her whole body trembling, she folded her arms tightly around herself and rocked back and forth, sobs tearing from her throat, "Oh God," she moaned again. "I... I always hoped that given enough time I would fall in love with him. I tried, God, Mom, I tried."

Mrs. Summers crouched down beside her daughter, cursing her ghostly appearance for the first time, because it prevented her from touching the tortured woman in front of her. "I know, honey, I know," she said softly. "I don't blame you. I would never do that. You blame yourself. You need to forgive yourself, Buffy."

Her daughter raised her head, turned her tormented eyes on her mother, "How can I? I did something horrible. I married a man, a good man, who loved me dearly, but I never... not for one moment, could love him the way he deserved it. I betrayed him, Mom."

"And now you're going to deny yourself that kind of love to punish yourself?" Joyce said, and it wasn't really a question. "Buffy, Riley was a grown man. Did you ever lie to him and tell him you loved him?"

"I... not with words," her daughter said after a moment, "But that doesn't change-"

"Anything, I know," her mother said gently and sighed. Then she tried another approach, "And what did Angel do to deserve this?" she asked.

Buffy frowned, "What do you mean? Angel's got nothing to do with this."

"Hasn't he?" Joyce raised her brows. "I think he has. Denying yourself love and give love also means you're denying it to him."

"He'll find another woman," Buffy replied stubbornly, "He's too young for me anyway."

Her mother had to chuckle, "Oh, Buffy. You know that's nonsense. Angel might still look like 26, but he isn't and you know it. He loves you. He always did. Do you think he would've been able to leave you, if he hadn't loved you the way he does? And don't tell me again, he'll find another one. After 20 years he came back to you. He heard about Riley's death and only an hour later he sat in a car set on Sunnydale. He doesn't love you? He'll find another one? Try again, Buffy."

"But..." the younger blond combed a hand through her hair, "I feel so guilty. Every time Angel smiles at me, every time he takes my hand I feel like I'm allowing myself to feel things I couldn't give Riley, things he couldn't make me feel."

"You feel guilty," Joyce said simply, "I know. Do you know another person who felt guilty for a long time, probably still feels that way?"

"Angel," Buffy whispered, wiping her tears away.

"There you go," her mother replied, "Angel. So why don't you tell him how you feel about the two of you? Talk to him. If anyone knows how to deal with guilt, it's him. Why don't you let him help you, instead of pushing him away? Don't you think he'd understand what you're going through? Baby, don't bury yourself in pain and guilt. Life is too short. And think about your kids. They deserve a mother who's happy. I think the last six months were hard enough on them."

Her daughter looked up and the eyes of the two women met, "Thanks, Mom," Buffy whispered after a moment, "Thanks for being my mother. For being there."

"I'm just a ghost," Joyce smiled at her.

"Yeah," Buffy managed to smile as well. "A ghost. But you do a damn good job as one."

"I'm sure they will be glad to hear it," the older woman replied.

The ex-slayer quirked a brow, "They?"

Her mother made a dismissive gesture with her hand, "Forget about it. For now, just try to think about yourself, your children and Angel. Will you promise me to try?"

"Why?" Buffy asked, suddenly alarmed, "Are you going away? Won't we meet again?"

"Maybe we will," Joyce smiled. "But for the moment I think my work is done. I love you, honey."

"I love you too, mom," Buffy replied and watched as the image of her mother faded, leaving her alone in her living room. Yes, Angel knew about guilt. Maybe he could teach her how to deal with her own. Maybe he could help her find a way to help live with what she's done. And maybe, just maybe, then she could allow herself to be happy again.

Chapter 10:MORE BABY STEPS AND LUSTY THOUGHTS

Buffy sighed and looked around her apartment. It was neat and tidy and it was the dream of each hard working single mother, but this morning she wasn't happy about it. After Ben left for school and she'd walked Marlie to kindergarten, she'd come back eager to do something - anything. She would have gladly vacuumed or dusted or even washed dishes, but there was plain nothing to do for her.

Which meant there was time to think. And although she knew her mother was right, it was painful to face the truth and Buffy still shied away from it. She wasn't sure she was ready to deal with it. With the fact that she hadn't loved her husband.

No, she corrected herself immediately she had loved him. She had loved him dearly in fact, but she also loved Xander or Willow. The problem was that she hadn't been in love with Riley. Not for a minute.

Riley had returned at a crucial point in her life, at a time where she'd been ready to give up, to let go and he'd carefully and patiently picked up the pieces and helped her to stand on her own feet again, to accept the fact that her mother and Dawn had died and that there was still a lot left to look forward to.

And Buffy had needed him. God, how she needed him with his love, his attention, and his warmth. She had inhaled everything he'd given to her and given him nothing in return. Sure, she had married him, and still remembered the radiant smile on his face when she'd walked towards him in the church, and they had three children, but it wasn't the same. She had never felt for Riley what she felt for Angel, she had never loved Riley in that all-consuming way she loved, had always loved, Angel.

And God help her, she'd known from the start. Even when she felt lost and lonely, when nothing made sense anymore, she knew that she was turning to Riley because it was comfortable, because he was familiar and because she trusted him. She had known that she didn't love him, but had accepted his proposal nevertheless. True, she had never lied to him, never pretended to feel something she didn't, but somehow that didn't make her feel better.

Buffy had once told Willow about her confused feelings and in true Willow fashion the witch had smiled gently and told her the story of Oz and Tara. Which, Buffy had to admit was a lot like her own. Willow had loved Oz, with all her heart, with her soul. He had left and in an attempt to avoid loneliness she had found love and warmth where she'd never expected it, in the arms of another woman. Her love for Tara, so Willow had told Buffy, was comfortable, more quiet, and safe. Oz had hurt her badly by leaving, by getting naked with another woman, and so she'd looked for something safe, something that wouldn't hurt as badly again.

The difference was that gradually it had changed and Willow's love for Tara these days was as strong as ever, and the redhead had told her friend that after a few years she'd fallen in love with the other witch. That had never happened to Buffy with Riley. Of course she never told Willow that. The witch wouldn't have understood. She would've looked sternly and told Buffy, she was grown up now and needed to move on.

So deep inside, Buffy had always known, that her feelings for Riley weren't even close to what she felt for Angel. But she had kept hoping, for a miracle, for what had happened to Willow, had hoped that one day she would wake up and be madly in love with Riley. It had never happened, and it never would because he was dead now. Which was one of the main problems. There wasn't a way to make it up to him now. She couldn't go on being the perfect, understanding wife for him anymore. She had to face the fact that he had never received the same love he'd so freely given to her.

By accepting Angel back in her life, she would have to admit it. She would be confronted with those feelings on a daily basis, would feel the difference in every caress, every kiss, and every look he gave her. The jolt she'd felt when he'd laid his hand on hers yesterday in the coffee shop had shaken her to the bone. She would have to admit that Riley had never been more than a substitute, a second best, because she hadn't been able to have the real thing.

Was she able to do it, she wondered? Yesterday, shortly after her mother had vanished, she'd been sure, she would - with Angel's help. But could she really? Could she deal with the constant guilt? Or would it kill her love for Angel in the end?

'You'll never know without risking it,' her mother's voice floated through the air and Buffy whirled around, but saw nobody. She closed her eyes for a moment. Yes, that was true. She would never know without risking it. And she would never stop asking herself what would've happened if she hadn't at least tried.

Opening her eyes again, she took a deep breath and reached for the phone.

*****

One of the disadvantages of being human was that a mortal body needed rest more regularly than a vampire's. Angel had almost forgotten about that, but he hadn't slept at all last night, and there wasn't much human in the way he felt this morning.

After Buffy had run from the coffee shop he had managed to pay their drinks and after aimlessly wandering around in Sunnydale for hours, without being able to find a solution for the turmoil in his head, he'd called Willow to ask her to look after Buffy. He hadn't elaborated why he was worried, and the redhead, bless her, hadn't asked. Half an hour later she'd called him back and told him that Buffy had been with her to collect her children, and that besides red eyes from crying she seemed fine.

Fine.

Angel snorted. Buffy was many things, she was smart, she was breathtakingly beautiful, she was the woman he wanted more than anything, but most certainly she wasn't fine. Not after what he'd said to her in the coffee shop. He had to be the single stupidest guy on the planet. It seemed where Buffy was concerned he wasn't able to act reasonable.

First he'd kissed her like some madman at the hospital, and although he was sure she had enjoyed being kissed, he wasn't proud that he'd acted the way he had. And after she'd forgiven him for that, and everything seemed to go smoothly for a change he had to throw Riley in her face. Well done, Angel. And maybe you could go and kick a dog or slap a child and then you'd be a real sweetheart.

He ran a hand through his hair and then over his face, taking note that he needed to shave. Sighing he walked over to the bathroom, smiling when his eyes fell on the electric razor, the way he always did and his thoughts wandered to Cordelia. The brunette had insisted he was going to use an electric razor after he turned human. She'd said there had been enough blood in her life already and she wouldn't stand by and watch Angel cutting himself on a regular basis.

He chuckled and started the razor, when suddenly his cell phone rang. He put the razor down and answered it, "Yes, Angel here."

"Hi."

The phone almost dropped from his hand, "Buffy?" he asked in shock, not daring to believe that she was really talking to him.

"Yeah," she sounded a bit uncertain and hesitant.

"God, Buffy," he said, "I'm so-"

"Don't say it," she interrupted him and he heard her taking a deep breath, "Angel, I... I think we need to talk. Could you... if you don't have anything-"

"No," this time he interrupted her. "I don't have anything to do."

There was a smile in her voice when she continued, "Good. Then would you come over? Say in about an hour. Could you do that?"

"Yes," he answered quickly, afraid she would take her offer back.

"Okay," she sounded relieved and anxious at the same time, "See you then."

"Yes, see you," he replied and switched the phone off with a stunned expression on his face. Then, quickly he went for the bathroom, all fatigue suddenly vanished.

*****

Tentatively Willow knocked at the door to Joyce's room and when she heard her call, she entered, "Hi," she said and smiled at the teenager who was lying sprawled on her bed. "I just wanted to see how you are."

"I'm fine," Joyce replied, not looking up. "It's a bit boring, but I'm not really sad that our English and Math teachers are both having the flu."

"I'll bet," the witch said with a twinkle in her eyes. "What are you doing?" she asked, nodding at the magazine in front of the girl.

"Nothing," Joyce sighed and threw it on the floor. "Willow," she asked suddenly, staring at the ceiling, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." The redhead closed the door behind her, and sat down at the edge of the bed, "You can ask me what you want."

"Do you think I'm a bad person?"

Willow frowned, stunned by the question, wondering how a girl of Joyce's age could ask something like that. "A bad person?" she echoed. "Why would you think that?"

Joyce shrugged, "I don't know. Did you hear about Marlie and Ben? Are they okay?"

A bit surprised with the change of the subject, Willow needed a moment to answer, "Yes. Yes, they're fine. In fact they were both here yesterday. I was very sorry that you had to stay in school the whole day and couldn't see them. Your mother came too."

Something flickered over the girl's face, but it was soon gone, "So Mom's staying sober for a change?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes," the witch replied, "Buffy seems to... she's Buffy again. I'm so happy. She had a hard time, Joyce. She had to deal with a lot."

"Yeah, her husband died," Joyce burst out, sitting upright on her bed, "but he was my dad too. I miss him too, but I didn't go and drink myself half to death."

"No, you didn't," Willow said gently, "And that's good. It seems you're very strong. But, Joyce, losing a husband is different than losing a parent. Or maybe Buffy isn't as strong as you. Honey, she never did it to hurt you. I think, she just... couldn't deal for a while."

The teenager jumped up, whirled around and glared at Willow, "Yeah. Sure. Mom couldn't deal. Well, too bad. Nobody ever asked me if I could deal," she shouted, tears springing in her eyes, "I lost my dad. I loved my dad," her voice cracked, "I mis- miss him, oh God," she moaned, "Willow I miss him so much."

With two strides Willow was by her side and folded the trembling girl in her arms. Stroking her back and head, the witch whispered, "Shhh, it's okay. Shhh. I know you miss him."

"I w-wanted to t-talk w-with mom, but sh-she," Joyce sobbed, and then broke off, crying hard on the redhead's shoulder.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," Willow said gently and continued stroking the girl. "It was as if you lost her as well, wasn't it?"

"Y-yes," Joyce sniffed, slightly pulling back.

"Then why don't you go and try to talk to her now? I know she's at home and I just know that she's dying to see you. Take a shower, get dressed and go home."

"You think?" Joyce asked with the voice of a small child.

"Yes, I do," Willow said firmly, smiling at the girl, framing her face with her hands. "Your mother loves you very much, Joyce. And she needs you. Just the way you need her."

*****

Buffy switched the phone off and stared at it. Had she done the right thing, she wondered? Well, she had to talk to Angel. She couldn't leave the situation the way it was. They might not have seen each other for a long time, and she had no idea what would come out of this meeting, but Angel meant too much to her to just ignore him.

Meant too much to her. That was the joke of the century. There had been a time when he'd meant everything to her and she knew that it could easily happen again. Of course there were her children and she loved them, but already she could feel the familiar longing, now that she had accepted her feelings and was determined to face them. She could feel her heart beating faster only thinking he would be here soon.

He was attracted to her, he had said and Buffy wasn't young and stupid enough anymore to mistake his intentions. He wanted to make love to her. Every gesture, every look he gave her, told her that as clear as day. He was human now, the curse was gone and there was no reason for him to hold back anymore. If she agreed to have a relationship with him, it would sooner or later lead to one thing. Sex.

But unlike on her 17th birthday she felt nervous about it. No, that was wrong. She had been nervous on her 17th birthday. But it had been different. It had been that kind of nervous you were when you didn't know what to expect. She had been a virgin then, inexperienced and Angel had expected her not to know about the real thing.

But now, 23 years and two lovers later, one of them her husband of 18 years, a man with whom she had shared bed and body almost each night, she was surely expected to know things. And yet, she didn't. Of course she knew what was going on. Of course Riley and she had done more than just one position, but their marriage, their love-making had never been wild passion, had never been out of control. It had been gentle and loving most of the times and so even after 23 years she felt inadequate. Inadequate for a person who had lived more than 250 years and whose sexual experience went far beyond her imagination.

Angel had been gentle and understanding that first and only time, he'd been careful not to hurt her, hadn't thought about himself, not for a moment. Now, things were different. She was a grown woman and he had a right to expect things. Had a right to think about satisfying his needs.

But how on earth was she going to satisfy a lover like him? A lover who had lived over 250 years. Who had slept with hundreds of women, had probably done everything and knew everything about sex and making love. She and Riley had never used jeweled handcuffs - or handcuffs at all, for that matter - or the other kinky stuff that was so modern these days. Would Angel think she was boring because she didn't know about these things? Would he lose interest after one or two times? And God, she didn't want him to lose interest. Her whole life she had wanted nothing more than to be with this man and now that he was available she wanted to hold him - forever. And she would hold him even if that meant embarrassing herself by walking into a bookstore to buy the Karma Sutra.

It would be hard enough to deal with all the looks from young women seeing her with a man who seemed so much younger than her. And even if she didn't look like 40 the mere fact that her oldest child would be 18 in six months told the whole story. People would look at her, and then at Joyce and then at Angel and wonder what that old woman did with her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend.

Oh God, don't even go there, she scolded herself. And besides Angel was coming to talk and she was already planning to seduce him. If she could seduce him, that is. She had never needed to seduce Riley. If she thought back the initiative for sex had always come from him. Or mostly.

How did you seduce an ex-vampire?

Suddenly catching on to what she was thinking, Buffy rolled her eyes over herself. Get a hold on yourself, Summers, she scolded inwardly. Keep your lusty thoughts to yourself and your hormones in check. Angel would hardly appreciate it if you throw yourself at him. "Down girl," she ordered aloud and firmly pushing naughty images away she went to the kitchen to make some coffee.

Chapter 11: UNEXPECTED DISCOVERIES

"Hi."

She stood there like an angel, smiling at him, inviting him in with her eyes and Angel almost forgot how to breathe. Had he thought she was beautiful? He was wrong she was overwhelmingly exquisite. Her blond hair fell loose and was shining like gold. Her hazel eyes sparkled and unlike the other times, she'd even carefully applied makeup. She wore black slacks and a white, long sleeved blouse.

"Hi," he managed finally glad his voice was working at all.

"Come in," she said and then led him to the living room, a way he knew by now. "I just made fresh coffee. Do you want some?"

"Is it decaf?" he asked and was rewarded with another of her smiles.

"Why don't you like it?" she wanted to know.

He shrugged, "I'm not quite sure, but it could have something to do with the fact that Cordy likes decaf. I really like her, you know, but her coffee is something to be remembered." He shuddered slightly and Buffy laughed. "How Wesley's able to stand it is beyond me."

"I'm sure they make quite a couple," she replied, and handed him a cup she'd just filled. "It's decaf," she said, "but unlike Cordy, I *can* make good coffee."

"Thanks," he smiled at her and sipped. "Mmmm, good. You're right. Maybe you'll be able to cure me of my decaf aversity after all." Sipping again, he sobered, "I know it sounds old, but I have to start with an apology. I shouldn't have asked you what I did in the coffee shop. I had no right-"

"No you didn't," she interrupted him, but her voice wasn't angry. On the contrary it was soft. "But I don't mind. Not anymore." She gestured at the seats and the sofa standing on one side and Angel walked over to sit down. "It's more complicated, I'm afraid. You asked me if I loved Riley so much that I wanted to mourn him the rest of my life? The answer to this question is yes and no."

"I don't quite understand..."

"I know," she replied, settling deeper in the sofa, as if it could shelter her. "I married Riley when I was on the edge. He came and saved me from, well, I guess you could say myself." She smiled slightly, "Without him I might actually be dead. I owe him so much. More than I can say." She saw Angel watching her intently and went on, "Riley left me. Mom died and then Dawn... Lets just say, I wasn't coping very well."

She laughed shortly, it wasn't a happy sound, "Coping. Hell, I didn't cope at all. I didn't want to see my friends anymore, tried to get away from them, tried to estrange them, so that I wouldn't lose another friend, I even avoided Giles..." she sighed deeply, "It wasn't pretty. I was barely recognizable. I lost weight and slaying was the only thing I still did, living on the edge of being suicidal, maybe inwardly hoping that one vampire might be too strong and end the life I hated. You wouldn't have wanted to see me."

But he had, Angel thought sadly. He could clearly remember his visit to Sunnydale, staying in the shadows, far away from her, so that she wouldn't sense him. He could remember the lost, empty look in her eyes, could remember that she hadn't been more than a fighting machine, burying her emotions deep, trying to be just a slayer - not a human being.

And it had been that visit that had him writing a letter on a Christmas Eve so many years ago. A letter he'd written with tears in his eyes and finally sent to Riley, the only person he could see helping her, because Buffy loved the commando, had told him so herself. So he hoped Riley would be able to help, in a way Angel couldn't, mustn't.

"Anyways," Buffy continued, interrupting his short walk down memory lane, "He pulled me back from the edge and then he asked me to marry him. I was so alone and I owed him so much that I said yes. And it wasn't bad or anything. Our marriage was filled with friendship, understanding and," she smiled now, "with three wonderful children. But," she took a deep breath, "I never loved him, or rather never was in love with him." She looked at Angel uncertain of his reaction, uncertain how he would take what she'd just revealed.

He looked a little dazed. And she couldn't really blame him. Long ago, she'd told him she loved Riley, deliberately letting him believe she meant she was in love with the commando. She'd been hurt then and wanted to hurt him back.

"You," he said finally and his voice sounded hoarse, "You," he started again, but his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat, "weren't in love with him?" There was so much disbelief in his voice that Buffy almost laughed.

But she didn't. Instead she said simply," No."

"You didn't love him?" he asked again. "Ever?"

"I loved him like a friend. He was a good man. A wonderful father, but no, I was never in love with him and that was..." her voice trailed off and she stared when Angel slid from his seat and kneeled in front of her, his trembling hands reaching for her face, cupping it, holding it.

"You didn't love him," he whispered, his voice awed, his eyes moist and so full of emotions, it took her breath away.

She couldn't speak and instead shook her head in the negative, her own eyes growing moist as well, "Angel," she finally managed to whisper his name.

And then he kissed her. And instantly her body reacted, remembering all the secret and not so secret kisses they had shared what seemed a lifetime ago, then again seemed as if it had just been yesterday. But at the same time, this was much more powerful, than anything she remembered, it was sizzling, a bursting of stars the moment his lips met hers.

His mouth on hers was the same she remembered, his lips soft and yet hard and demanding, and she felt a powerful jolt of lust shooting through her when his tongue swept past her parted lips and invaded her mouth, tasting, teasing, tempting.

This was more, so much more, and it had just begun. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside of her, then subsided again. Hadn't she fantasized about making love to Angel just a few hours ago? Then thrown the thought aside, as being ridiculous. And now, they were right in the middle.

Buffy had thought she knew her body, had thought she knew it better than most people, was familiar with its reactions, because she had worked it to peak physical condition, she'd pushed it to its limits and sometimes over them, she'd put it under stress, also mental, and thought she knew.

But now, when Angel kissed her, kissed her again after twenty-two years it seemed like she knew nothing. She had been a girl when he'd kissed her all those years ago, had still been a girl when they'd made love. But now she was a grown woman, a woman who had had sex almost all her life, but in an instant everything seemed to vanish into oblivion.

With a growling sound he rose on his knees, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down with him on the floor. Her breath left in a rush at the feeling of his solid chest pressed against her breasts that were only covered by the thin material of her blouse and a strapless bra. She lifted her hands, helplessly, in need to touch him, more than anything she'd ever needed.

She needed to touch skin, she decided and with a flick of her wrists she tore his shirt apart, making the buttons fly all over the room. He let go of her mouth for a moment, and she could see the surprise, but also the joy in his eyes. She struggled to remove his arms from his sleeves and then the shirt slipped on the floor, leaving his chest bare, and Buffy almost lost it that very moment, seeing it sculptured and perfect, exactly the same way she remembered.

His lips met hers again, while her hands found his nipples and brushed over them. He moaned into her mouth and it was the most erotic moment she could remember. Desire slammed through her with a force, she had never felt before. Her own nipples hardened in reaction as she tried to imagine him doing the same to her.

Angel deepened the kiss, tasting more of her, their tongues dueling, she felt him shudder, and did the same when his hands pulled her closer, brought her hips in contact with his. He was hard as a rock, she noticed and it sent another jolt trough her entire system. She shifted her body, pressing against him and Angel groaned deep in his throat.

Angel broke the kiss, and for a moment they just stared at each other, both pairs of eyes dark with passion, their lips swollen from kissing.

"Angel," she whispered.

"Tell me," his voice was hoarse, "if you want me to stop you need to tell me now. Because later I'm not sure if I can."

For a microsecond there was guilt again, the feeling of betraying a man she hadn't been able to love, but then she focused on Angel again and was lost. "I don't want you to stop."

Her answer was another groan, and he slowly stood, pulling her with him, holding her. "Your bedroom?" he asked.

"To the left," she managed, almost wild with want. "Hurry," she urged and he lifted her in his arms, claiming her mouth again and maneuvering them into her bedroom. He set her down on the bed, letting her slide down his body, needing the contact, his mouth never leaving hers, his kiss deepening again, and growing in passion.

*

Later, after their breathing had come back to normal, after their hearts weren't pounding in their chests anymore, they lay on the bed on their sides, facing each other, Angel's hand laying loosely, but possessively on her hip, while she had thrown her leg over his.

He arched a brow when she chuckled slightly. "What?" he asked.

"This wasn't actually the kind of talk I was thinking about when I called you today," she said, reaching out with one hand and stroking his cheek. It was different now. Not smooth as it had been, but rough, and it reminded her that he wasn't a vampire anymore. He was growing a beard like all other male human beings.

Angel grinned at her words, "Really?" he teased.

"Angel," she scolded and slapped his chest. "Be serious. I called you because I needed to talk to you. And I do. Need to talk to you, I mean. I need to. There are things," she frowned, "things we need... you need to know. Things that were... the cause for my drinking, I think."

He sat up in bed, his eyes resting on her with concern and love, "Go on," he encouraged.

"It's about Riley." She saw him flinch slightly, and put a hand on his arm. "I know it's not the kind of subject you want to discuss after making love to me, but... I need to-"

"It's okay," he said gently, lifting his arm and turning it, so that he could take her hand in his. "Tell me."

"I feel like I betrayed him. Not now, not because I slept with you. He's dead, and I'm free to make love with someone else. But because I couldn't love him. You know. Because he was with me, he couldn't be with anyone else. I couldn't feel for him the way I... I feel for you," she admitted and smiled when she saw the love in his eyes. "He was with me and not free to find a woman who could give him what I never could."

"Do you really think he would see it that way?" Angel asked, running his fingertips up and down her side, marveling at the feeling of her soft and creamy skin.

"He should. I loved Riley I really loved him. Not in the beginning, but it came on gradually. Yet I never was *in* love with him. What I felt for him was... God, it's horrible to say, but it was merely comfortable. Trusting. It was never what we have. There was never this mind-blowing passion."

Angel couldn't help but grin. He was so deliriously happy at the moment, he wanted to shout it out loud. And hearing her actually say what he had felt just before made him feel like the king of the world, "Mind-blowing, huh?"

Buffy scowled at him playfully, "Don't start flying now," she joked," but yeah, it was mind-blowing. It is mind-blowing. When I'm near you, when I touch you it's... more than I felt when Riley was buried deep inside of me."

He winced and grimaced slightly, "That was an image I so don't need," he muttered.

She caressed his cheek, "I'm sorry," she said softly, "But we don't need to pretend that I didn't sleep with him. I have three beautiful children to prove it. We were married for eighteen years. But what I want you to understand is that it wasn't the same. It couldn't be. And a part of me, a big part, feels guilty for it. For not having been able to give him what I can give you, for not being able to feel for him what I feel when you touch me."

Angel thought about a letter he'd written so long ago. A letter where he'd tried to tell Riley that Buffy needed him, that he had to come back and that he shouldn't hesitate if he loved her. If anyone had forced Riley to be with Buffy it was him, but certainly not the woman who was lying gloriously naked beside him. "That's not your fault, Buffy. You didn't force him to be with you. He decided he wanted to be your husband. And by God, I envy him for each second he spent with you. I'm jealous like hell, that he gave you the children I couldn't, that he was able to sleep by your side, to hold you, to tell you that you were the most wonderful being on this planet."

"Oh, Angel," she whispered, when he ended his declaration. He hadn't said he loved her so far, she hadn't said it either, she suddenly realized. Maybe they weren't ready to say the words; maybe he sensed she wasn't ready to hear them. But it was clear as day that Angel loved her. And if she wasn't completely wrong, he had never stopped loving her. Just the way her mother had told her.

"Buffy," he whispered her name and their lips met again, passion instantly spiraling out of control, her mind shutting down everything except the man who was kissing and stroking her. Nothing was important that moment, only Angel. And with a moan she let herself fall.

*

Buffy snuggled deeper into Angel's embrace, not caring for the fact that it was in the middle of the day. She never wanted to move away from him, never again wanted to miss the feeling of his arms surrounding her. It was heaven. The kind of heaven she'd always dreamed of, the heaven she'd tried to forget in order to move on with her life.

Sighing happily she kissed his bare chest and smiled when she heard a rumble deep inside and his arms tightened reflexively. She would stay here, she decided. She would just refuse to move. She would just forget the world outside and continue making love to Angel.

"OH MY GOD!"

Of course the outside world had the nasty habit to intrude without asking.

Buffy and Angel bolted upright in bed, the ex-slayer clutching the sheet against her breasts, staring with horror in her eyes at her daughter who was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, staring at her mother and the man beside her with an equal expression on her face.

"MOM," Joyce shouted, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"What does it look like?" Buffy replied weakly, feeling faint. It was a mother's nightmare. Her almost grown up daughter finding her in bed with her lover. Certainly there were more terrible things happening around them, Buffy thought, but at the moment, she couldn't remember a single one of them.

"God," her daughter. "That's... that's," she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes. "You're disgusting," she shouted. "I don't want to see you ever again." With this Joyce turned and flew from the apartment.

Go to Part 12