Part 5

"That's what I'm telling you, Wesley." Cordelia kept her voice low as she spoke with the former watcher at the other end of the line. "He came back from patrol about an hour ago, and he barely noticed I was there. We exchanged a few words and then he disappeared in his room."

"Why are you staying with him anyway?" Wesley asked involuntarily keeping his voice low as well. He was alone in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel and except Fred, who was sleeping upstairs in one of the bedrooms he was the only living being in this huge building. Gunn and his gang were out hunting vampires. He had to admit that without Angel and Cordelia the place was almost deserted.

"Because I can't stay with my parents, the apartment they live in now is too small. There isn't a lot left after the IRS put their hands on our property." She frowned slightly and absentmindedly inspected her fingernails. At least she hadn't broken any so far. It was a completely unconscious gesture, her nails weren't as important anymore as they once had been. Working for and with Angel in L.A. had given her other priorities.

"Not that it was their property to begin with," Wesley, muttered at the other end of the line, but she heard him.

"I know that," she couldn't help the edge in her voice although she knew he was right. "Anyways. And there was nobody else I could stay with. I mean all my old friends," the last word she snorted in disgust. "Not very likely. Sure I could've lied to them, told them I was some famous actress, but one look at my shabby clothes and they would've known."

"Cordelia, Angel gave you a brand-new set of clothes," the Englishman reminded her, not quite sure why he was talking to her at all. He sighed inwardly. No, that wasn't true. The brunette was worried, and she was trying to cover up her concern by talking to him.

"That was ages ago," she reminded him. "Well, months," she amended quickly, "but with today's fashion... It's already completely out."

"I see." This time he sighed audibly, and decided to get back to the source of her worry, "So Angel went patrolling with Buffy."

"Yeah. I have no idea what happened out there, Wesley, but something did. Something important. All the typical brooding signs surrounded him when he came back. And the typical Buffy-look was in his eyes. Why on earth did they have to drag him into this?" She sat down on a sofa and bit her lower lip.

"I'm sure Mr. Giles tried to find another solution," he said gently. "Cordelia, I don't like it either. I know how much he suffers. I'm not as insensitive as you think I am, but we cannot forget the fact that Buffy is the Slayer. Her health, the fact that she can't execute her duty, is of the utmost importance. Not only to us, but to the world."

"That doesn't mean I have to like the situation," the brunette grumbled."Because I don't like it at all. He's going to end up a wreck, Wesley. And after all the other stuff he recently went through." Why had it to be that way, she asked herself? Why did Angel always have to be the one rushing to her aid, picking up the pieces in an emergency? All she ever did was yell at him, accuse him, or throw that sorry excuse for a boyfriend in his face. Damn Buffy. The former cheerleader had always known the slayer wasn't good for Angel and the current situation was no exception.

Wesley sighed again, his tired eyes darting to his watch, "Cordelia you should try and sleep," he said gently. "We can't change the situation. All we can do is try to be there for him. You know that."

"I know," she replied finally. "Alright, Wes. Have a good night. And thanks for listening to my ranting."

"It was a pleasure," he said with a certain tone in his voice that made her smile. "Good Night."

Cordelia turned off her cellular phone and closed her eyes for a moment. He was right all they could do was trying to be there for him when he needed them. But of course nobody said that she couldn't keep an eye on Buffy as well. Preventing damage was always better then cleaning up afterwards.

***

Buffy sat alone in the living room of her house at the same time, staring into the darkness. Giles had gone back to his apartment, while Tara and Willow to the dorms and Xander had left before she came back. She hadn't seen Dawn or Spike since their little meeting in the graveyard but her watcher had told her that her little sister was safely asleep in her room.

So there was finally time to hang on her thoughts. A brief flash of memory. Would it mean that there was hope for her to become herself again after everything? She wanted her memories back, now that Angel had appeared in Sunnydale more than ever.

She saw the pain in his eyes, the torment because he couldn't tell her all the things she wanted to know and she cursed herself for teasing him, for trying to get him to open up, completely oblivious what it would mean for him to dig up things that - so it seemed - he'd rather forget.

Riley. Her boyfriend Riley. Her boyfriend for over a year, Angel had told her. She was twenty, soon to be twenty-one. Her dating days couldn't be that many and being with someone for over a year had to mean something, right? Why then did his name mean nothing to her? Wasn't one meant to remember those who one loved? Then she was also sure she loved Dawn too, and when she could believe that they were her friends, they were very close. Yet, all of them had been lost to her, had disappeared in some endless black hole, that was meant to be filled with pictures, faces or names.

But there was plain nothing.

Well, almost nothing. There was that brief flashback. Actually, the whole scene had been about Angel, but of course, she recognized him immediately and so her whole focus had shifted towards the other person she saw although he hadn't been more than a supporting player.

And that had been her boyfriend, Riley. She turned his name back and forth in her mind, but nothing came. With Angel, there had been a flutter. She clearly remembered something stirring, and with Riley, there was plain nothing.

She would've liked to explain it to the vampire that the man in the flashback meant nothing to her, not now anyway, but after he walked away from her, he didn't said another word. They had killed three vampires in silence. Afterwards he saw her home and said goodbye with a curt nod in front of her door. The only words that were spoken were over his shoulder that he'd be back for another training shortly after sundown.

Buffy leaned her head back and with a heavy sigh closed her eyes. God, she wanted to remember, she desperately wanted to understand what had happened between her and Angel. She wanted to be able to understand that pain in his dark orbs, wanted to understand why he was evading her questions.

A noise behind her startled her and abruptly her head jerked around, her eyes falling on the inevitable clouds of smoke that seemed to accompany him everywhere. "Spike," she acknowledged his presence, and then turned away from him. She didn't want to talk to him, and didn't want to hear his smart-ass remarks. She wanted to be alone and think. **Preferably of a dark, tall and incredibly attractive vampire.** But then, Spike was his grand-childe, wasn't he. "What do you want?" she asked almost involuntarily.

"All on your own, Slayer?" His voice was surprisingly without the usual cockiness.

"Do you see anybody else?"

"No," he shook his head and blew some more smoke in the air, then walked over to sit on the loveseat in the corner where she could see him from the corner of her eye. "Thinking about anything special?" He paused, then added, "Or someone?"

"If I did," she replied, "why do you think I would talk to you?"

He shrugged, "Don't know. It's the Poof again, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question.

"'The Poof'?"

"Yeah," his voice held a trace of impatience, "Angel. My bloody darned grand-sire. The Poof. You're thinking about him." When she didn't reply, he went on. "You have that certain look in your eyes. Like that night when..." he suddenly stopped and his voice trailed off, but her eyes perked up.

"Like when?, what" she asked.

He drew from his cigarette again, "A long time ago," he said evasively. "Just know that we met each other before I had that stupid chip in my head."

"I had a flashback today," she said after a moment. "Angel was in it, and Riley."

She heard him laugh beside her and turned around to fully look at him. However, it was dark and she couldn't recognize more than his shadow and the flashing of his cigarette from time to time. "And did you tell my grand-sire about it?" he asked.

She could hear in his voice that he thought it would be funny if she had and suddenly wished she hadn't. It was clear as day that there was no love between Angel and Spike and somehow she had the feeling that the bleached blond vampire would enjoy any form of torture he'd be able to inflict on his grand-sire. Still she said, "Yes. I did. I didn't recognize Riley. I still don't," she added hastily. "He was just a face in my mind and Angel helped to put a name to it."

She wanted to slap him when she heard him laugh. "I assume, Angel was really happy to hear you remembered soldier boy."

"I told you," she insisted, "I didn't really remember him. He was just... there."

"Yeah, yeah, you told me," he snickered, "Still I would've liked to have seen his face." Not that Spike felt much better. She'd seen Angel and Riley in a flashback. She hadn't seen him. That said everything, didn't it?

"Can you tell me about Riley?" she asked after a while. "I know he was my boyfriend. Angel told me that much. I know his name and his face, but it doesn't mean anything to me. I'd like to know about him though."

Spike sighed, and then crushed his cigarette on an empty plate. "There isn't a lot to tell. You were together, still can't figure out me why. Maybe there was more to him than met the eye, although I severely doubt it." He stood up and walked over to the door. "I didn't like him. Actually, I wanted to rip his brains out, but thanks to him and his friends I couldn't."

"You didn't like him, huh?" She didn't turn towards him. "But then you don't seem to like many people, do you?"

He stared at her profile in the darkness, his eyesight was good enough to see every detail, and glad she couldn't see him the same way. Then he swallowed hard and blinked, hating the fact that he fell for her. "Yeah," he said quietly, already walking towards the stairs to the basement, "Not many people."

***

Angel was tossing and turning in his bed at the mansion trying to find sleep where there was none. He couldn't get her out of his head, and couldn't stop thinking about what had happened on patrol.

He knew he was crazy for behaving that way, for feeling hurt that she remembered Riley in her first flashback. Dawn had said Buffy hadn't been in love with Riley. Then why then would she remember him of all people? Well it's only natural, a voice in his head whispered, he was her boyfriend for quite some time. She was close to him, very close.

There mere thought about that closeness had Angel involuntarily balling his fists. There were suddenly pictures in his head about Riley and Buffy. Naked. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the disturbing images. He couldn't think about it or he'd go insane. He knew that they'd had a sexual relationship, so why was it throwing him that way all of a sudden.

Liar, the little voice said again. Think about a certain talk at the police department. It threw you then as well.

Groaning he ran a hand over his face. He was so damned tired, but there was no way he'd be sleeping. So, he might as well get up and have some blood. He had forgotten about food before. He stood up, pulled his sweat-pants up, and then quietly made his way towards the kitchen, crossing the hall in the process. He started when suddenly a female voice said.

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

He stopped in his tracks and then slowly turned toward the brunette who sat in complete darkness. At least it was dark for her, although he could see her just fine. "Cordelia," there was concern in his voice and she had to smile at that. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she assured him quickly. "I was just thinking that's all."

"Thinking?" he tilted his head and then walked over to her, sitting down beside her on the sofa. "About what?"

"Many things," she said evasively.

"You don't need to worry, Cordelia," he reached out and took her hand. "I'm alright." When he heard her laugh incredulously, he said, "Buffy had a flashback today. About Riley." Well, actually it had been about Riley and he, but at the moment only the commando was important.

"Oh," her voice was small and he felt her squeezing his hand. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to be. I'm behaving ridiculously, that's all. I have absolutely no business to feel that way. I left her, I told her she should find someone who could give her all the things I couldn't. She only did what I told her to do."

"But that doesn't mean, you feel good that she did," she replied gently.

A short, unhappy laugh sounded through the hall, then he said, "No, it doesn't. When she told me she'd seen Riley in a flashback, it was as if my heart was ripped out of my chest. Do you know what I mean?"

He was surprised, when she answered, "Yeah, I do." Noticing his surprise, she added, "I once came into a room where my so called boyfriend was kissing another girl. So, yeah, I know."

Now it was his turn to squeeze her hand. "And then Spike was there. He followed us or rather her, around. And there is an expression in his eyes, I'm not quite sure, but I don't like the way he looks at her. He's always been obsessed with slayers, and I don't want him to develop any kind of twisted feelings for her."

"How do you know they are twisted?"

"Because I know him. Because I remember his face when he killed a slayer hundred years ago. Because without that chip, he wouldn't give a damn about Buffy all he would think about was the best way to rip her heart out and stomp on it," he shot back. Then added a bit sheepishly, "Sorry. I didn't want to throw that at you."

"Hey, that's what friends are for," she smiled and leaned her head at his shoulder for a moment. "Just don't let all this get to you too much," she pleaded.

He was quiet for a moment, and then he stood up and walked towards the kitchen. But he stopped half-way and turned back to her, "The problem is, when it comes to Buffy, I don't have a choice."

"Yeah, I know," Cordelia, whispered into the darkness after he'd disappeared in the kitchen. "That's what love does to you."

Part 6

The next days fell into a pattern. Buffy and Angel would spar shortly after sundown, and then go out for patrol. It became a routine and they spent many hours in each other's company. But other than this the vampire was distant. Remote. They barely talked on patrol and if he talked, he kept it strictly business. Something radiated from him that clearly warned her not invade his private space.

Buffy was ready to scream after a week. Now that she knew that, there had been something between her and Angel, she more than ever wanted to know what the reason was for their parting. Because although he was keeping everything to himself, and holding her at arm's length, she felt like she was falling for him - again.

She had been confused, angry, and even afraid sometimes, but the moment he stepped over her threshold everything had changed. He was filling her thoughts and her dreams. Spike had been right, she was thinking about Angel - almost all the time.

The bleached blond vampire on the other hand surprisingly kept his distance after their little private talk in the dark. He even started to sleep somewhere else again, hadn't been in the basement for almost a week. Had Dawn said he probably found a crypt? Buffy wasn't sure she remembered it correctly. All she could think about was Angel and when the week was over, she admitted to herself that she was helplessly in love with him. His distant act only added more attraction for her.

She really wanted to know what he felt. Did he love her? Or had he stopped loving her when their ways had parted? Did he have a girlfriend in L.A.? Wait, no. He was in Sunnydale for over a week now and nobody had mentioned a girlfriend, but then it didn't really mean anything, the way he kept to himself was no help in finding out what her heart so desperately needed to know.

It all came back to one question. Why had they split up? Had she ended the relationship? Somehow, she had problems believing that. Her feelings for him were strong, she was sure of it. Granted, she couldn't remember things from before her memory loss, still the way she felt for him now told her all she needed to know.

Had he left her? And if he had, why?

Buffy was pacing her bedroom, feeling more caged by the second. She needed to know, because this falling into black holes all the time was driving her nuts. And nobody would talk to her, always she would get the same answer. 'Your memory needs to come back on its own.' Damn it, couldn't they understand that she just *had to know.*

*

She'd already tried it before, but she decided to ask again, when Willow was over in the afternoon. Glad that Giles had cancelled their daily session, the Slayer called her friend and the redhead had gladly accepted, eager to refresh their friendship and deepen it again.

"I think you should go back to college soon," Willow said after a while, sipping from her coffee. "I mean, I know Giles still thinks you need to concentrate on the slaying stuff, to catch up things you forgot, but," she shrugged, "you need to get your normal life back."

"Normal life," Buffy snorted and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Is that something I'm supposed to have? 'Cause I have the feeling I'm the Slayer and nothing else."

The witch sighed and smiled at her, "Giles is worried. And sometimes he just gets... very much into this save-the-world routine. Don't get me wrong, because I know it's important. After all I've been with you for years and have seen you save the world more than once, but..." she bit her lower lip for a moment, "sometimes he seems to lose perspective. I really like him, love him actually, in a strictly non-romantic way of course," she added and the two girls shared a look of understanding, and then laughed.

"No, but honestly. He sometimes gets carried away with all this prophecy stuff, and it means something if I'm saying it. I'm a witch after all and the black arts are my favorite subject." Now she grinned. "And after all... the fact you... died... I suppose he thinks he didn't do his job properly."

Buffy looked at her friend for a moment. They had told her about her death, not in detail of course, but they had related the plain facts to her, so she would understand what happened. However, it meant nothing to her. So she died. Big deal. She was alive now. The memories of her death were lost with all the others, she couldn't remember dying and because of this wasn't important. "I guess," she said finally, frowning, her thoughts already wandering away from her watcher. "Willow?" she said hesitantly, "Angel and I were together, right?"

"You... uh... well," the witch tried to evade, then sighed, "yeah, you were," she admitted, realizing that Buffy already knew. "Who told you?"

"Angel did," Buffy replied and when she saw anger starting to enter her friend's eyes, she added quickly, "but only after I had already guessed it. I confronted him with it and he had to tell me. I asked if we were together and he said yes. Nothing else."

Willow released a breath, and then took another sip of her coffee.

"What happened?" the slayer asked, not taking her eyes from the witch.

"Buffy, I really don't think-" Willow began, but was cut off when the blond suddenly jumped up and glared at her.

"Damn it, Willow. I can't stand it. I'm ready to kill something or someone. It's like talking to walls. Yeah, I know the shrink said, I need to regain my memories on my own, but it's driving me nuts. Please Willow, I don't want you to tell me all the details, but I need to know what happened. Why we aren't together anymore?"

The witch was a little bit taken aback by her friend's outburst, but she instantly saw the despair in Buffy's eyes, the helplessness, and the need to understand, and she saw something else. "Oh God, Buffy," she whispered. "You're in love with him."

The slayer's brow drew together in an instant frown, then she tilted her head, "How'd you know?"

"So it's true?" Willow asked, already knowing the answer that was clearly visible in Buffy's hazel orbs. "Oh no," she covered her mouth with one hand, tears welling up in her eyes.

Clearly not understanding the redhead, Buffy threw her hands in the air, "What's the matter with you? Why is this a problem? Yeah, I know he is a vampire, but I already said to him, I'm a slayer but as far as I can see it, we keep the same schedule."

"Buffy," Willow reached out a hand and took the one of the blonde, pulling her to sit down beside her on the sofa, then looked straight into the other girl's eyes. "There are things. Things happened between you and Angel... He didn't do anything," she assured her friend quickly, "at least not anything he could've prevented, but..." she took a deep breath, decided that Buffy had at least to know the important facts.

"You already know that Angel is different, because he has a soul, right?" She saw her friend nod and continued, "But that's not all. The soul was given to him by gypsies. Not because they loved him, but as a punishment, that he should suffer for the sins his demon inflicted on people."

"So he didn't have a soul all the time?" Buffy asked.

"No," the witch shook her head. "He was your average - or not so average - vampire for almost hundred and fifty years. Then he was cursed with a soul."

"But that's good," the Slayer still couldn't understand her friend's earlier reaction. "I mean he's good now. He hunts evil and demons. He helps people." So why was it a problem she was in love with him when he was good?

"Yes," Willow gave her a smile. "It's good. And we are all grateful for it. But the whole soul-thing came attached with a tiny little twist. He didn't get his soul freely the gypsies built a clause into it. We call it the happiness-clause."

Buffy crunched her brows, "Happiness Clause?"

"Uh-huh," the witch nodded. "Whenever Angel achieves true happiness he will lose his soul and he'll be nothing but a demon, again. And believe me, you don't want that," she added remembering the time when Angelus had roamed the streets of Sunnydale.

"True happiness?" the blond was still lost. "Well then he just needs to avoid that. I mean, what is true happiness anyway? Certainly nothing I remember," she said, instantly smiling sheepishly. There wasn't a lot she remembered at all.

"Yes, he needs to avoid it," Willow agreed, ignoring the slayer's last words. "The problem is, he already once had one moment of true happiness and the outcome wasn't very nice. As I said, you wouldn't like to meet his evil alter ego."

"He lost his soul?" the frown on Buffy's forehead deepened. "But he has a soul now."

"He does. We found the curse that gave him his soul in the first place and... we... that is I, well, we cursed him again."

"Oh," was Buffy's only reply, but Willow could see the wheels turning in her head. She knew what would be the next question and of course, she didn't need to wait long for it. "What caused him to lose his soul?"

She didn't want to say it, Willow decided. God, she didn't want to be the one to destroy Buffy's dreams. It had been painful the first time, now the slayer had to go through it again. Not literally, but she would know, understand, what had happened. Still, the witch didn't want to be the one to tell her. So all she did was give her friend a pointed look. One of those, the blond couldn't probably miss.

Buffy stared at the witch, saw the other woman's expression change, saw the look in her eyes and suddenly everything was clear. "Oh God," she whispered, standing up and walking over to the window, hugging herself closely, feeling cold all of a sudden. "Oh my God," she whispered again.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," she heard Willow's gentle voice behind her. "I am so sorry." She was about to get up to go to her friend, but the slayer's upheld hand held her back.

"What you're saying," the blonde whispered brokenly, "is that we were together, right? And that caused him to lose his soul?"

"Yes, Buffy. That's what happened. And although he had lots of other good reasons, other reasons besides this, I think that was why he left you in the end."

"So he left me," Buffy cleared her throat realizing her voice was cracking, then turned back to Willow, not trying to hide the tears in her eyes. "We didn't stop loving each other." It wasn't a question.

Still, Willow felt it necessary to comment. "When he left you? No. But two years went by since then, Buffy. Time can change a lot of things."

"No," stubbornly she shook her head, "I love him. I have lost my memories, but I love him now. And somehow... I dunno... I can see he loves me too. You should've seen the look in his eyes... that night in the cemetery." And suddenly she remembered what Spike had said, about that certain look in her eyes, the one he'd seen before, "And I think it's no different from the way I loved him before I lost my memory."

"You can't know that," Willow tried to reason.

"No. But still I feel it." She sat down again, suddenly deep in thoughts, "Maybe," she said after a little silence, "it wasn't that bad I lost my memory. I don't know how it was before, but I can see things quite clearly now. You are a witch, right? Quite powerful, if Giles told me the truth."

"Uh... yes," the redhead replied hesitantly, not really knowing where she was heading for.

"And you're my best friend. Still, you never tried to find a way to alter his so called curse." There was no anger in her voice, Willow realized. It was more a statement, but still she felt ashamed as soon as the words settled in.

"No," she unhappily shook her head. "But as I said, there were many things that made him leave. For one he wanted you to have a normal life. You are human, Buffy. Yes, you are the slayer, but you're also human. He wanted you to have the sun, wanted you to have a boyfriend, who could give you all you wanted, deserved, to have. The happiness clause was only one part of it."

"But yet you said, it was the most important one. And it's understandable. I mean, if I was him, I wouldn't want to risk my soul, I wouldn't want to have a demon taking control over my body, doing unspeakable evil. Or would you?"

"No," Willow shook her head again. "But coming back to your previous question. Even if I tried, I don't think I could alter his curse. It was written in some ancient language none of us knew. A friend of ours, who's dead, now, translated it for us. She was a gypsy herself. And when I re-cursed Angel I started chanting in English, but then some spirit took over and..." she shrugged. "I started... or rather the spirit, to speak in some ancient Romani. That's the gypsy tribe, who cursed him in the first place. I could never remember what I said, first and foremost because I wasn't really the one who did the chanting."

"I see," Buffy replied after a moment of silence. Then she thought about something else, "But you still have the translated version, don't you?"

"Oh yes," the witch said eagerly. "We kept it. Just in case."

"Well," the slayer took her hand, "would you look into it - for me. I know it's probably nothing, but would you?"

"Buffy I don't want you to..."

The blond made a dismissive gesture, "I know. I know. Believe me, I understand exactly what you're talking about. But please do it - for me?"

Willow watched her friend's face for a long moment. Buffy and Angel had gone through a lot, and although the slayer couldn't remember anything, she seemed to instinctively feel a deep bond to the ensouled vampire. She loved him now. This was a new Buffy, without the memories of Angel, and yet she loved him still. Willow knew that Giles would probably kill her if he knew, but here and now she decided that Buffy was right. She had never tried to find out if the curse could be altered and she realized she at least owed Buffy a try.

"Alright," she said finally, squeezing the blonde's hand. "I'll look into it."

Part 7

Angel, of course, was completely oblivious to the things the two women had been talking about, while he walked beside Buffy the next night. But he sensed the change in her, realized she wasn't looking at him all the time, never forced on him to talk. He didn't know what had caused it, but he was grateful.

The tension was growing inside of him daily and he wasn't sure how he would be able to get through the following days and probably weeks, without going insane.

They had missed patrol the night before, due to one of Cordelia's visions and an emergency which required the ensouled vampire back in L.A. So they hadn't seen each other for 48 hours and although Angel had been glad to leave Sunnydale for one night, it hadn't really changed anything. On the contrary, the tension was even worse, along with the anticipation to see her that grew. He was torn between running away and rushing to her side and it was literally starting to rip him apart.

Not to forget, that he wanted her more than ever. He had loved her all the time. He had never tried to deny it. But while he was in L.A., apart from her, he had been able to function, to move on with his life. To help people was satisfying, it made him feel good, sometimes even human and the fact that he somehow had made it out of the whole mess with Darla - battered and bruised, but out nevertheless - made him feel stronger than before.

But being with Buffy, walking beside her, talking to her, even touching her from time to time... it was unbearable. It was all he could do not to reach out and crush her to him. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, love her and never let go again. But of course that wasn't an option.

Of course there was the curse preventing him from getting close to her, and all the other reasons why he left her in the first place. Buffy had lost her memory and he would never even try to suggest anything as long as she wasn't able to make a decision.

**And I am not slowly going insane, no, I'm nuts already. What the Hell am I thinking?**

He ran a hand through his hair and cast a quick glance at the woman walking at his side. She was looking straight ahead, scanning the area, and trying to use her senses to feel vampires. For a moment a frown appeared on Angel's forehead. Was it even possible for her to be at his side he wondered? Or was the fact that he had a soul making a difference?

Slightly shaking his head, he suppressed a sigh at the last possible second. No need to attract her attention. Better not talking, and not looking at each other. So they continued walking beside each other in silence.

"Angel?" her voice was hesitant, and he was almost startled when he heard it. It was so unexpected in the silence that had settled over the cemetery.

"Yes?"

"I... uh... don't want to make you uncomfortable..."

**Oh God, please not again. Don't touch that subject again.**

"... but... well, Willow told me what happened between you and I."

**I can't talk about it, please don't make me...**

"WHAT?" he almost shouted and stopped abruptly, staring down at her.

She shifted uncomfortably, averted her eyes for a moment, but then looked up at him. "I needed to know. Because I couldn't understand why... why we split up," she explained hurriedly, "So she told me about the happiness clause." She reached out to lay a hand on his arm and it hit him like lightning. "And I wanted to say," she went on, completely oblivious to what that simple touch was doing to him, "I understand. I understand why you left. I would've done the same. It must be absolutely terrifying to fear for your soul."

He was still staring at her, and all he had felt was her hand on his arm. Somewhere in his unconscious he knew her lips were moving, had even registered the words she was saying, but hadn't been able to understand them. Then he suddenly blinked, "Sorry, what?" slowly his eyes focused on her face. He shook his head, "I mean, yeah. I mean..." The air he'd been holding left his mouth in a whoosh. "Sorry." He stepped away, cutting their connection in the process, with half of him crying out in agony at the loss, then turned his back to her.

"You mean," he was glad his voice sounded almost normal, "You know what happened. Willow told... I mean, what did she tell you, exactly?"

"Uh..." a lovely blush crept into her cheeks and she smiled a bit shyly. "Well, she didn't tell me the details, but I'm not dumb, so I could guess. In a nutshell she said we were together which caused a moment of true happiness for you – which is incredibly romantic by the way - and then you lost your soul. Later you got it back because she re-cursed you."

Relief flooded through him, so Willow hadn't ... "And that was all?" he turned back to her. "That's all she told you?"

"Yup," Buffy said a bit flippantly, desperately trying to ease the tension she sensed around them. "Oh and yeah, she said, I wouldn't like to know your alter ego," she grinned, "it seems you're quite a bad boy without your soul."

It was meant as a joke but unfortunately absolutely misplaced with the man standing in front of her. He roughly grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly, "DON'T," he warned, his voice rising. "This isn't fun. Without a soul I am not at all like I am now. And she's right. You wouldn't want to know." With that he let go of her as abruptly he had touched her and stomped away.

She needed a second for her confusion to settle down, and then she followed him. "Angel, wait," she cried. "Please, wait. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you."

He stopped, and turned towards her again, waiting.

"It seems I'm stepping on everyone's feet these days, but this," she motioned around, "whole situation is so frustrating. You have no idea what it means to lose your memories. It's like losing a part of yourself, a very big part. I can't remember a single day of my 20 years. I have to believe what my friends, or my sister, or my watcher, are telling me. Then suddenly you show up and..." She shut her eyes for a moment, looking back up at him, she continued, "and I have all those feelings, but you keep away from me all the time, although I could sense you felt something for me." She gave him a pleading look, "I needed to understand, why you wouldn't want to be close to me."

Angel looked into her huge eyes, filled with a mixture of so many feelings he couldn't name them all, but the most important being confusion, and a pained sound, something between a moan and a groan escaped his mouth when he suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her hair. "Buffy, I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause you any pain. That's why I left two years ago."

He held her tightly, his hands stroking her back and Buffy couldn't remember - whatever that was worth in her current state - ever having felt so safe, so protected, so loved... So right. Her arms encircled his waist almost on by themselves and she leaned her cheek against the soft material of his shirt and a little sigh escaped her mouth. This surely had to be heaven and she never wanted it to end.

She felt him tremble beneath her hands, felt shudders racking through his body and just now began to understand what he went through everyday. He came back to help her - so far as she knew, although he knew that seeing her would cause pain, and at the moment she was certain he was suffering much more than she. Almost unconsciously she tightened her embrace and began to stroke his back as well. "It's okay," she murmured against his chest, "You didn't cause me pain. I just couldn't understand what was going on."

"I know," she heard him whisper into her ear and the air from his mouth was like a bittersweet caress, something forbidden and yet so desired.

"You didn't leave me because you didn't love me," she said quietly, pulling back slightly and looking up at him.

"No," he shook his head and a sad smile played around his lips. "I never stopped loving you. But it just won't be possible, it didn't work. There were so many things I couldn't give you, starting with the most basic of all, to express my love by touching you. You have no idea how... difficult it was after..." he trailed off, but she knew what he meant. She couldn't remember the things that had happened, still she knew.

"So you set me free," the sad smile was on her lips as well. "It was your gift to me, wasn't it?"

Angel closed his eyes. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't feel good for leaving her, although he knew it had been the right decision. Truth to be told all he wanted was shout that he had been wrong, that he was sorry for having left, that he would stay this time and redemption or Shanshu be damned.

"I understand," she said softly and opened his eyes again. "We don't need to talk. I understand now and it's... no, it's not good, but I can deal." She grinned suddenly, unexpectedly and Angel felt his heart jump in his chest. "At least I think I can. It's not easy keeping my hands off you. You're just so damned incredibly attractive."

He knew what she was doing, she was trying to ease the tension, trying to distract him, to push the pain away she felt she had caused with her questions. "Why, thank you miss," he joked back, glad his normal voice was back. "I do anything to please."

She laughed, "I might remember you of that sometimes," she replied and began to walk, sending a silent prayer to Willow. **Please, please find something. Please, because I don't want to lose him. I want this chance with him.** 

Part 8

This part is rated R for use of language!

"Tell me again why I'm sitting here?" Xander yawned and glanced at his girlfriend - oh, stop, she was his fiancée now - who'd fallen asleep on Willow's bed in her dorm, a paper firmly clutched in each hand.

"Because you were there," she retorted and gave him a look as if he was dumb.

"I was where?" maybe he was dumb but he didn't understand a word. He'd joined the girls an hour ago. They met up this evening to reading some old magic stuff and he'd just shown up to get Anya when Willow had insisted for him to stay. She had an important question to ask, she said. And now he was sitting here for an hour and so far they hadn't talked a word with him. Until now.

Willow and Tara had been engrossed in hushed conversation, while Anya concentrated on a test she was reading. His ex-demon fiancée had been totally focused on her task and dead serious in a way Xander had never seen her before, but now she was zoned out and who could blame her. It was way after midnight and the two witches who were sitting cross-legged on the ground still didn't seem to tire.

"You were at the mansion when Angel regained his soul. I want to know exactly what happened," Willow turned to look at him.

"Huh?" Xander's eyes widened. "This is about the curse? Why are we talking about Dead Boy's curse?"

"Just because," the redhead wasn't particularly interested in discussing the subject with him. Angel had never been one of his favorite persons and although he gave up his blunt hostility, she wasn't sure how he'd react if he knew what they were looking for.

"Oh, no," he shook his head, stood up, and began to pace the room. "Not this way witchy-poo. I want to know what this is about."

Willow sighed and rolled her eyes. She heard Tara giggle behind her and exchanged a quick smile with her lover. "Alright. Buffy asked me to look into Angel's curse. The one Miss Calendar translated, you know the version we found on the disc."

"The Buffster asked you to do that?" he looked at her in disbelief. "But how does she know about all this? I thought she had..."

Willow sighed again, this time louder, "Look, Xander. I don't want to explain this, I'm tired and I want to go to sleep, so please answer my question. What was it like?"

"I have no idea," he replied after studying her face for a moment. She would probably scream in a second if he didn't tell her. "I was too busy getting Giles to the hospital." He narrowed his eyes, his expression suddenly cold, "You remember Giles? The watcher? The one our dear friend Angel tortured for hours."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she waved an impatient hand at him, biting her lower lip. "And it wasn't Angel who tortured him, but that's not the point." She looked at Tara again. "So that's a dead end. With Buffy's memory loss, he would've been the only one and he's... oh wait," her eyes lit up, "oh no, Spike was probably gone too," her face fell again.

"W-well, w-we c-could ask A-Angel," Tara suggested.

"Angel? Well, I don't know, I mean what could he tell us. Although..." she tipped her forefinger against her chin. "Maybe we should ask Angel. It's just, I don't want him to get his hopes high and then..." she trailed off, giving her lover a pointed look.

"I s-see y-your p-point," she agreed.

"Wait a sec..." Xander walked over to Willow and sat down beside her on the ground, glancing over her shoulder. "Are you working soul magic here?"

She sighed loudly, was he dense? "Yeah, of course. What did you think we're doing? Playing twenty questions? Buffy asked me to look into Angel's curse, and I promised. So that's what we're doing. Okay?"

"Okay?" he gave her an irritated look. "Why would she... oh wait..." the expression on his face was almost comical, "Please, don't tell me, she's fallen in love with him again. Oh, now that's just great. Dead Boy's back for a week and she's already head over heels for him again. That's really-" he stopped abruptly, "so you told her about the curse, right? Very good of you," he patted Willow on the shoulder. "We wouldn't want Angel's evil self running around in Sunnydale again, killing our friends."

"No, we wouldn't want that," Willow's voice held a trace of anger. "But that wasn't the reason. Did you forget that Angel knows? He would never risk his soul. No, the problem was that he was distant to her although she had the feeling he was drawn to her. So she asked me and I thought it was good for her to know."

"Xander?" Anya's sleepy voice asked and the ex-demon blinked, trying to wake up again. "Oh, there you are," she said, sitting up slowly. "I thought I heard your voice."

"Hi honey," he smiled at her.

Anya blinked again, then rubbed her eyes. Facing Willow and Tara, she said, "This is hard work, you know," as if she wanted to apologize her falling asleep, "Romani isn't the most common language. Anyways. I made a cross-check, or whatever, and the result is," she held up the two papers in her hands, "this," she waved the left, "isn't the same as this," now she waved the right.

"You speak Romani?" Xander almost yelped in surprise. "You never told me," he accused his girlfriend.

"You never asked," she replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Wait a moment," Willow glanced at Tara, and then back at Anya, "Did you just say, the two papers are different? The Romani version isn't the English version?"

"Nope," Anya shook her head in the negative and yawned. "The Gypsy-version is the way you'd expect it to be. Those Romanis have always been a bit ... weird. And so is this." She nodded at the paper in her left. "Full of unnecessary words and phrases." She inwardly shook her head. Romanis!

"Alright, so there are different phrases," the redheaded witch thought about it for a moment, then asked, "Anything else?"

"Sure," the ex-demon replied, as if it was obvious. "There's that part you would probably call the 'happiness clause'," she held the paper in front of her and pointed at several lines, then put the text aside to pick up the version Jenny Calendar had translated, "while in this, there isn't a word about it. It just summons a soul back into a human body. Period."

"Wh-" Willow's throat closed up so tightly, she wasn't able to say the word. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God, was all she could think. Her head snapped around to Tara and she saw the same thoughts in her lover's eyes. There wasn't a happiness clause in Jenny Calendar's version. That would mean...

"Oh God," the redhead breathed. Now her eyes darted to Xander, "Do you know what that means?" she asked. "Do you understand what that means?"

"Call me stupid, but... no," he replied a little bit confused. Why were Willow and Tara so upset? He glanced at Anya, but she just yawned and looked no other than usual - but then this was Anya, and she was bored quite easily, probably her more then 1100 years of life experience, not many surprises left.

"I-it m-means that there i-is n-no c-clause in A-Angels c-course," Tara said slowly, looking at Willow, who nodded after a moment.

"No clause, you mean..." Xander stared at them, then swallowed. "You mean, there wasn't any danger for him to become Angelus again?"

Willow shook her head frantically, tears spilling over and she grabbed Tara's hand for support. She was a bad friend. God, she was worse than that. She was worth nothing as a friend. She remembered all the anguish Buffy went through and Angel ... "Oh God," she moaned, turning and burying her head in her lover's chest.

"Hey, hey," Xander leaned over and put a comforting hand on her back. "It's not your fault."

"Not my fault?" she whirled around, her face only inches from his. "Not my fault," she repeated. "Yeah, I know. But still I didn't do anything, absolutely nothing to find out if there could be a difference. Miss Calendar translated the curse as a gift, not as a punishment, do you understand. And we were too stupid to understand what she'd done!" she cried, "Buffy and Angel went through hell – Angel even literally, and we did nothing to prevent it." Xander flinched at her last words, but Willow was too upset to notice it.

"We were all so blinded by anger, even hatred," she added with a pointed look at Xander, "we never even made the effort to help. Not once." She emphasized her point by pounding her fist against her thigh. "We accepted Angel's help when he was back, but all of us - except Buffy - wanted him punished. Even I," a sob came from her throat and she pressed her hand against her trembling lips. "I held Buffy in my arms when she cried her soul out, after Angel broke up with her, and I thought it was for the best." She reached out and grabbed Xander's shirt with both hands, pulling at it, "Did you hear me? I said it was for the best. Oh God," she moaned again and then began to sob uncontrollably.

Xander just held her and over her head his eyes met first Anya's, then Tara's, then he tightened his embrace around his friend's shaking form. How on earth were they going to tell Angel? And how in Hell was he ever going to live with the knowledge that he had lied to Buffy all those years ago?

***

Angel hadn't been able to sleep. Again. After his heart-to-heart with Buffy, he felt restless. So he left the mansion and was now strolling through Restfield, hoping that some stupid vampire would show. He wanted nothing more than to hit something - hard.

She loved him. She said she loved him. No, he corrected himself, she said she had all these feelings, but he was certain there had been love in her eyes. The memory loss had changed her, she didn't try to hide her feelings, simply because all the hurt and pain was lost to her as well. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed while he made his way between the headstones.

Why was this happening to Buffy? Why did she have to go through that entire forbidden love thing again? She said she understood. But did she really? The hope in her eyes had been unmistakable. And he didn't want that for her. Feeling love, hoping for fulfillment that she'd never have. He would never be able to give her even a glimpse of the love she deserved. And more than anything he wanted her have that, to have love and laughter, even if it was slowly killing him to see her with another man.

Riley. Just his name made the demon inside of him roar in anguish, and had his gut clenched into one gigantic knot. No, he didn't want her with another man, but there was nothing he could do.

Angel took a deep unnecessary breath and closed his eyes for a moment to savor the silence around him, the peace a place like this... his eyes snapped open. There was a noise coming from one of the crypts. Slowly Angel crept closer, moving silently, only a shadow in the night, every step of perfection gained in 250 years as a vampire.

Approaching the crypt he saw a light shining in there and then heard a voice. Angel stopped. Then sighed. It was a very well known, and God help him, a very drunken voice. Pushing the door of the crypt open he stepped inside. "I don't believe it," he said crossing his arms in front of his chest, while Spike was looking up to him through blurry eyes.

"Angelus," a drunken smile crept over the younger vampire's features. "Well, what an honor for us lower creatures. The vampire with a soul honors my home with his presence."

"You know," Angel leaned his large frame against the wall, "what's even more pathetic than a vampire with a chip? It's a drunken vampire with a chip."

"Sod off," Spike glared at him and tried to struggle on his feet, but failed and crashed back on the ground, hitting his head in the process. "Oops," he said, grinning. "A bit unsteady tonight."

"Feeling sorry for yourself, aren't you. What's the matter, don't the ladies favor you anymore, now that you can't bite?" the older vampire asked. "Poor Spike, now you need booze to keep you company?"

"Shut your bloody mouth," his grand-childe hissed, and took another gulp from the bottle in his hand. Miraculously it had survived him crashing down. "You have no idea how I feel."

"You don't feel, Spike. Well, you feel sorry for yourself, of course," Angel's showed no mercy, on the contrary, a smile played on his lips. "But besides this, you're just an evil demon. Chip or no, you might be able to blind a teenager like Dawn, but don't try your act on me, because I'm not buying it. We know each other too well to play games.""What the hell do you want?" the blond vampire spat. "I'm minding my own business here, so get lost."

"I wasn't looking for you," his grand-sire replied. "I found you by accident, but I have a question. What the Hell do you want from Buffy? Why were you following her and why were you looking at her like that?"

"Like what?" Spike felt better all of a sudden. Was there jealousy in the other vampire's voice? Well, well, maybe he could finally get his fill.

"DON'T," Angel warned, growling deep in his chest, "I might have a soul, but don't think I forgot how to deal with a childe who forget how to behave towards his elders. So answer me. What's going on?"

"That's none of your damned business," his grand-childe retorted, bringing the bottle back to his lips.

It flew away and crashed into the wall before he was able to drink and suddenly Spike was pulled to his feet, a strong hand closing around his throat, holding him upright against the wall, he was face to face with his grand-sire who had changed into his game-face and whose eyes flashed dangerously, "I warned you, Spike," Angel hissed through prolonged canines.

"You left, Angelus," Spike had no intention to back down. "You left her two years ago, you have absolutely no right to behave like this. This isn't any of your business. Go back to L.A. and help your lost souls."

"I'm making it my business," the older vampire growls, not letting go of his insubordinate grand-childe, "Buffy will always be my business. I'm warning you Spike. Stay away from her. Do you understand? Keep your filthy hands off her. She is the Slayer and you're nothing."

That moment something inside of Spike snapped, "She doesn't want me," he shouted, changed into demon features himself. "Can you even hear? She never wanted me." Frustration and alcohol had taken their toll and the younger vampire began to sob uncontrollably.

Shock showed on Angel's features seeing his grand-childe breaking down like that and with a jerky movement he let go of the blond vampire. He hadn't seen Spike like that since... "You love her?" he asked disbelieving.

"Yeah," the other vampire slumped down to the floor again, "yeah, I love her." His voice sounded defeated, tired, and more than anything frustrated. "But she won't have me, because like you she thinks I'm nothing but some evil vampire."

"You are an evil vampire," Angel said, but couldn't help the pity rising inside of him.

"Evil - my ass," Spike spat, running a hand over his face, embarrassed that he'd lost it like that. "I have a bloody chip. I'm nothing."

His grand-sire took a deep breath and turned away, suddenly not able to look at him anymore. All he wanted was to leave this place. No, he didn't really pity Spike. He was a demon who wouldn't hesitate to kill people the moment the chip was out of his head, but Angel felt uncomfortable. This wasn't right. Killing vampires was one thing, but this, this wasn't a solution either. "I have to go, Spike," he said and his hand moved towards the door.

"Sure," Spike waved his hand at his back, "go. I didn't want you here in the first place."

Angel heard him struggle on his feet, and walk into one corner of the crypt obviously getting another bottle. "Spike," he hesitated for a moment, and heard his grand-childe stop in his tracks, "I'm sorry, for... treating you like that."

"Oh, for God's sake," the younger vampire seemed really angry now and his grand-sire turned back to him. "Don't bloody apologize. You've been the first to treat me like an equal, so don't ruin it now." He stared at Angel, the great Angelus, his infamous grand-sire, the Scourge of Europe, a member of the Order of Aurelius and a bloody do-gooder. "She loves you," he said slowly, hating himself for it, but feeling good too. "She never loved anyone else. Certainly not that loser, Captain Cornbread. If I was you, I wouldn't think twice, I would take what others would kill for."

"Spike..."

The blond vampire made a dismissive gesture, "I know, I know, the curse and your soul. I know all this. But don't you think, mate, if you really love her the way you say, don't you think you'd find a way? Isn't it worth the risk? Or are you too much a bloody coward? Because if you are, you should step aside and leave her to someone who earns her."

Angel stared at his grand-childe for a long moment. Then without another word he disappeared into the night.

Go to Part 9