Disclaimer: No, I still don't own them and for this please don't sue.Rating: PG-13Pairing: B/A (duuuuh)Category: Angst, RomanceSpoilers: the whole B/A - cannon Summary: This is during the final battle; just think that everything is in total chaosTimeline: Future, Buffy's 26Dedication: to my friend Kate in Australia who just converted and became a B/A-shipper - yay!!! (she was into the Buffy/Giles thing before ... yuck!)

WARNING CONTAINS ANGST!!!!!

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

Rain splatters on the roof of the burnt out building we're hiding in. It hasn't rained for a while but now it's pouring down with all its might. It's dark outside and I shiver in the cool breeze. How did I get here I wonder briefly? How can anyone's life be so screwed up to end up in the middle of the End of the World, the ultimate fight, to sit in a burnt out house in Sunnydale?

It has to be a slayer's life of course and just thinking about that term, slayer, it explains everything. Whatever did I do wrong to end up as one? I was just a normal girl, shallow and superficial and the most important things were older boys, clothes and the colour of my new lipstick. Then all of a sudden some stuffy old Brit enters my life and nothing is as it was anymore. My life got screwed up big time, I wasn't Buffy anymore, I was "The Slayer". Big words, big duty, big, big, big ... damned big suck!

I turn my head towards the man beside me, but because of the darkness I cannot see the expression on his face. I know we are both awake although he doesn't breathe, but vampires never do.

That's just another part of Buffy Summers, life sucker big time. It wasn't enough just to be a slayer. It might have been enough for any other girl like Kendra and even Faith, but Buffy Summers had to be special, she had to fall head over heals for a vampire. And for one with a soul, go figure! But even that wasn't good enough, no, it had to be one with a happiness clause. Something special for Buffy of course.

Sighing I cross my hands behind my head and lean against the wall. Some special vampire, to leave me when things got rough. Turned away and disappeared in the mist ... with a distincive flap of his coat of course ... it's all in the attitude as Spike once put it. Good old Spike, I wonder where he is at the moment? Hold it! Armageddons seem to drive people crazy. Was I just referring to Spike and 'good'?

Thinking about his grand-childe my thoughts come back to the present and the vampire at my side. We haven't seen each other for years and now we sit here, together, in the dark ... talk about weird things in life.

He's weak from the loss of blood and hesitantly, slowly I lean towards him and  reach out to touch his face. He doesn't flinch from my fingers and I trace the lines of his mouth. I still can remember these lips that once kissed me and whispered of love, that awakened dreams in my mind that never came true.

"Are you cold?," I hear him whisper in the darkness.

"No," I reply. He feel my hand tremble but the cold isn't the cause of it. The fact that he is so near throws me off balance. It always did.

He captures my hand in his large, cool one, "Your skin is like ice," he says and I hear the concern in his voice.

I want to punch him for this. He has no right to be concerned about me. He hasn't cared for me ... but no, this traitorous inner voice whispers ... you haven't cared for him either. So instead of hitting I just shrug in response then realise that he can't see it - or can he? He's a vampire, right? Vampires have better sight than other beings. "How come you are here?," I ask the question that had been on my mind for hours. Ever since we looked into each others eyes, not expecting to see each other when we stepped into this house from different sides.

"I was following a bunch of demons. Then I got hurt," he says and sits up. "I needed shelter for a while ... until the wounds heal."

I nod then frown, "Don't you need blood?"

"I took some from one of the demons," he replies, "it just needs some hours to work properly."

I nod again and lean back against the wall. The only one that is still complete. "I'm waiting for a helicopter to get me," I tell him.

"That's good."

Silence settles again. But I can't stand it. Here I am, sitting beside someone who once was important in my life and all we do is shop talk. But I can't find a single thing to say. Maybe that's what distance does to you. You change and slowly you grow apart.

*

She's still so beautiful and if I was breathing she would still take my breath away. She's dirty, her clothes are torn, there is blood on her arms and I have never loved her more. I wonder if it's some kind of mental disease. Angel's Buffy-disease. Cordelia would shake her head seeing us like this. I wonder if she's still alive, I wonder who is at all? It's days since I saw Wesley, Gunn or Cordelia.

So many things happened since then. I had to leave L.A. and go to Sunnydale, the Powers wanted me there. And although I knew I was going near her, I never thought we'd end up here.

The world around us is quiet for a change. After weeks of terror, fire and chaos it's a relief but it's scaring as well because there's time to think and my mind is in overdrive with her so near and yet so far. We haven't seen each other for almost five years and we both have changed. There was a time when we were comfortable in each others presence and now...

We barely find anything to talk about. We've been sitting in here for hours and haven't asked anything personal so far. Why, I wonder? Inwardly I laugh at that. Of course I know. We both are too afraid to hear something we don't want to.

I know Cordelia has been in contact with the Sunnydale-crew, but I wonder if she told me anything she heard. Knowing about my reactions wherever Buffy was concerned she'd probably try to hide anything that qualifies as bad news, like, say a new boyfriend or ... worse.

Quickly I glance at her hand and sigh inwardly with relief not finding a wedding band there. Although I left her to find a normal life, the idea of her marrying someone is too hard to entertain. "Are you...," I start to ask a question, but the communicator at Buffy's hand interrupts it and a voice calls her, "Summers ... flyer one to Summers. Are you there?"

"Yes flyer one, I'm at the house. How long until you'll be here?," I hear her ask.

"Ten minutes. Be ready," comes the quick answer.

*

Silence again. And suddenly I feel panic enter my gut. Ten minutes. Just ten minutes and Angel and I haven't talked one personal word. "How are you?," suddenly feeling the urgent need to know.

"Better," he replies.

"No, I didn't...," I take a deep breath, "I mean of course I want to know about your injuries, but I thought about the general how are you, you know. How's your life, your friends ... is there ... someone special?"

I hear him chuckle slightly, "Besides the fact that the whole world seems to burn my life is fine. You?"

"Yeah," I let out a breath I've been holding unconsciously, "same here. Still kicking demon butt?"

"Uh-huh," he replies. "Regular demon-butt-kicker, that's me. And," suddenly his voice is serious, "to your last question the answer is no."

*

I hear her little sigh of relief after my last words and my heart does a little flip-flop in my chest. Does she really care if I'm involved with someone or not? I know that Cordelia told her about my soul being safe. Well, actually Cordelia told Willow and Willow ... anyway, it doesn't matter how she got to know it.

It was Angel being the regular coward of course. Not knowing how to let her know, I just told Cordelia she could tell the Sunnydale-gang. Like some, 'hey isn't it great, no Angelus anymore, Angel's soul is safe. He helped some witches and they altered his curse.' This way she knew. She was involved with a guy at that time and it just didn't feel right to tell her personally.

I never heard about a reaction, she never called, never wrote, but her question just before told me that she got the message. I didn't expect her to come to me then, honestly, I didn't, but still it hurts to see that she knew and obviously never cared. It would've been nice to get a call, at least, to be told how glad she was that one of my worst fears was banned for good.

It's true that sex wasn't the reason I left her, there was a whole bunch of things, but yeah, the idea Angelus would be roaming Sunnydale again was my worst nightmare. And I knew by staying around Buffy my soul was in constant danger of getting lost in the depth of her hazel eyes.

"And you?," I hear myself ask. "Is there anyone new in your life?"

"No," she shakes her head. "Nobody at the moment. After Mark...," she trails off and shrugs slightly.

Yeah, Mark. That nice, normal, human guy. Mark, with the green eyes and brown hair. Mark. God, I hate that name. Almost as much as I hate names like Riley or Parker. Mark was killed by a bunch of vampire one night and of course I should comfort her, but then this paragon of virtue, great-guy Mark, had been cheating on her with another girl. So actually I might - should I ever meet that special vampire - be tempted to forget about my duty. Just once. And let him get away unharmed.

"Riley and I are still in contact though," she adds. "We're friends, nothing more. Actually he might be on the helicopter that picks me up soon."

Oh great. Riley. Armageddon and Riley. Just Angel's life. Sucks big time. But of course I smile, "That's good for you. To have so many friends, I mean."

"Yeah, well. Friends," she replies and it sounds sad.

And suddenly I just have to ask, I need to know. This is the last battle we are fighting and maybe we won't ... I need to know. "Are you happy?" The moments the words are out of my mouth I want to take them back. What a stupid question to ask and ...

"Happy?," she asks incredulous. "I think I was never," she slightly shakes her head, "no, that's not true. I was happy. Once," she turns her head and I can see tears in her eyes. "One night I was truly happy. For some hours. But then my world turned upside down and nothing was as it had been. I lost my dreams, my hopes and my innocence and after sending my boyfriend to hell and getting him back, he decided to let me go. But you know what," she almost shouts now, "you screwed up. Leaving me didn't make me happy. If anything it made me truly miserable."

The last word is only a sob and she abruptly turns away, avoiding my hand that had been reaching out to touch her. I pull it back and quietly say, "I'm sorry." What an inappropriate thing to say, how shallow and ...

"I know," she replies and surprises me. "I know we never had a chance," she whispers. "I didn't want to see it, but you were ... wiser and older ... so you were the one to make the decision."

God, these words sound familiar. As if Joyce had spoken through her daughter's mouth. And why not. They were mother and daughter after all.

"Leaving you was the hardest decision I had to make," I pause for a moment and think back to a certain day, a day only I remember. Then I amend, "Well at least one of them."

I see her nod in the darkness, "Will we meet again?," she suddenly asks out of the blue.

"I don't know," I answer honestly and the truth is, I don't. Know, I mean. How can I, how can anybody. The world around us is sinking into chaos and none of us knows what's going to happen. I finally reach out and take her hand. "Buffy, we have only a few minutes left."

*

I almost want to cry at his words. I want to yell, to shout ... at the Powers, at fate at ... anything and everything who took away our chance to be happy together. I even want to shout at him and I but of course I know that won't help. So I finally give in and lean my head against his shoulder, loving the feeling of his hand holding mine.

I reach out with my free hand and trace the line of his mouth. I can feel him smile, my lips twitch and my pulse kicks up in response.

"You will be alright," he says into the darkness. "You'll see. This moment, this," he squeezes my hand, "being with you right now. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

"Angel you...," I start but his finger on my mouth stops me.

"It doesn't matter," he whispers. "Nothing matters anymore. Just you and me. Here and now." He cups my cheek and I feel his lips near mine. "Kiss me, Buffy. Now. Maybe it's the ...," his voice breaks and then I feel his lips on mine. I trace the strong line of his jaw, then burry my fingers in his thick hair, pulling him closer, trying to drown in this feeling of closeness.

Sudden tenderness fills my chest until my ribs seem far too small for my body. Oh God, please, don't let it be the last time we see each other. Don't let this be the last memory I will treasure of him. I'll do anything, anything ... just let him get through this. Please keep him safe, I send a silent prayer to the PTB. God, it hurts so much to think that this might be the last memory I'll have of him.

"What is the matter?," he asks when our lips finally part.

"Nothing," I shake my head to avoid his penetrating gaze, but he puts a finger under my chin.

"Nothing?," he smiles slightly and I see he doesn't believe me.

"I love you," I admit suddenly, then take a deep breath. For years I didn't allow myself to even think about him and now it's the easiest thing in the world. Whatever happens, I need him to know how I feel. "I never stopped loving you. Not ever," I add.

"I know," comes his soft reply. "I didn't either." After another short pause he whispers, "I just want to hold you. Until they come for you."

"Why don't you come with us?," I ask, already knowing the answer, but asking anyway.

"I can't," he replies. "I'm needed here."

"But Sunnydale," I say, "it's all gone. There's only burnt houses, burnt trees, nothing's left. What do you want here?"

"The hellmouth is still open," is his simple answer.

And suddenly I know. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. This will actually be the last time we see each other. Giles once told me there's a sacrifice needed to close the hellmouth and the sacrifice will be Angel. I tighten my arms around his waist and feel the first silent tear falling from my eye. This is not fair. Please, PTB, God, or whoever listens. I let him go. I let him go, I even will be happy for him living with another woman, but I need to know he's alright. Then I can go out in the night and imagine he'll look at the same moon as I, but to think he'll be gone...

"It's okay," he whispers.

"No, it's not," I disagree.

"It's my destiny, Buffy. Being the slayer you should know that there's nothing we can do against destiny."

"Oh God, Angel," I sob at his chest. "Please come with me. Please," I beg.

He doesn't answer, just holds me tighter and without looking at him I know he's crying too.

*

I am the first to hear the noises of the approaching helicopter. I gently shake her shoulder, "They're coming," I tell her.

She doesn't pull back first, but then she finally does. Slowly, hesitantly, then suddenly cups my face between her hands, "I love you," she tells me fiercly. "Nothing you've done, nothing will ever change my mind. I want you at my side. When this is over and done with I need to know you're alright. I just want you to know, that I'll be there, waiting for you ... if you want me."

"Oh Buffy," I whisper, trying desperately to get a hold on my emotions that are choking me. "I love you too, I love you so, so very much. I always did. I once told you. Nothing can change that, not even death. And I'm glad you love me too. That was the best present I ever got, and never deserved. But I want you to promise me that you will go on without me."

"Without you," she echoes and her voice sounds hollow. "Without you, nothing makes sense anymore," she admits.

"That's not true," I grab her shoulders and shake her slightly. "Of course it makes sense. Please don't throw your life away. We both need to do what has to be done. But we cannot put our backs on life because we lost someone we love. So," I pause for a moment and finally find the flashlight I kept hidden the whole time. We both blink but then our eyes get used to it. I want to see her eyes, those beautiful, big hazel eyes, the ones I will always remember. "Promise me you'll try to be happy. Please."

"Angel," she sobs quietly, then takes a deep breath, "I promise," she says finally. "I love you," she repeats and a small smile crosses her lips, "Truly, madly, deeply. I once heard this song and I always wanted to tell you how much it reminded me of you ... us."

"I love you too," I reply again and we kiss.

*

We stand outside, the helicopter above us and I can see Riley's face looking down on me. I'm not sure if he recognized Angel, but I honestly don't care. Riley might be a friend, but Angel is the man I love, I always loved.

"I love ...," I want to say again, but he cuts me off.

"Buffy, kiss me one last time," he begs and in his eyes I can see the truth. That this will be the end. It's written in the depths of his chocolate eyes.

Our lips meet as he crushes me against his chest in an agonized hug. His mouth opens and his tongue brushes mine. How many times have we kissed - how many times - and how many times have we missed and now in the destroyed Sunnydale I kiss him good-bye, every beat of my heart praying for a miracle that would save him.

Like a tornado, wind created by the helicopter whips over our heads, slinging my hair across my face. Angel reaches out and pulls it back, his hand so gentle and loving while the rope dangling down comes closer. Too soon it is directly in front of us. Angel grabs it and slings it around my waist, making sure it's secured.

"I love you, Angel," I cry, "Come back to me. Please ..."

"Shhh," he comforts me and kisses me again. A hard, short and final kiss. "I love you."

"You have to fight, Angel. You always have to fight," I shout to be heard above the noise of the helicopter. "Please."

I was above his head now, out of his reach, getting higher with each second and finally Riley's hand pulls me inside. I feel the urge to punch him, but of course I suppress it. It's not his fault that my life sucks beyond belief. I look down to the vampire dressed all black whose face I can't see anymore. With every second the distance between us grows, but in my heart I know we'll always belong together.

I think about the promise I gave him and I'm going to cherish it. I'm going to try to live a full and happy life. If I'm living through all this, that is. But I will. I won't disappoint him. But I will always hope that somewhere on this planet he'll be watching the same full moon and think about me. And maybe one day we'll find a way. Maybe not in this world and maybe not in the next, but I need to believe, because if we lose hope, there's nothing left.

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