Disclaimer: nothing's mine.
Rating: for now, lie the show and unless by some miracle it changes, prolly will stay that way.
Spoilers: everything up to "Out of My Mind" and "Untouched", the episodes included, just to be safe. Since I try weaving it into cannon to a certain extent, expect spoilers from afterwards too, especially from AtS.
Pairings: B/R, B/A, W/T, X/A. Dunno of others will appear too.
Synopsis: Don't have much to say at this point, sorry:), other than I have an idea for a little B/A fix-up for seasons 5&2...;).
Distribution: be nice and ask me first?:)
Feedback: hell, yeah!
Note - IMPORTANT: I'm *not* promising I'll finish this fic. I'll try my best, my very best (also depends if you even want me to finish it...), but unless it's done within the next month or so, I can't promise anything because I don't know how my lifestyle will change with the army in it. I wasn't going to start a new project *at all*, but this fic was screaming to be written and I couldn't resist, lol;). So as of now, its future is uncertain. But since I never not finished a fic before, as i said, I'll try my very best to wrap it up. Let's hope for the best:).

"Buffy." The redhead witch opened the door wider and moved back to let the Slayer inside her and Tara's dorm.

The blonde walked past her, rubbing her eyes in attempt to clear her suddenly blurry vision as she looked around the room, which was in some places obscured with heavy purplish mist.

As Willow shut the door behind her, Tara opened the windows, helping the fog outside with her hands.

"What has happened here?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"A-a spell," the blonde witch stammered as she moved back from the window towards the Slayer.

"Actually, a spell *didn't* happen," her lover corrected her. "It kinda…got messed up. We're not sure where, we still have to look into it. We were trying to…what are you doing here?" she suddenly snapped back to the present. "Not that I..."

Buffy sighed. "I'm not too late, right?"

"Too late?" Willow's eyes widened. "We were supposed to go somewhere? Cuz I didn't-"

"No," the blonde held up her hand, then pointed at the clock, "I meant, too late." The hands sowed it was already quarter past midnight.

"Oh! No, no, you're not," Willow was quick to assure her.

"Good," Buffy nodded. "That's good. I…I kinda…wanted to talk. Can we talk?"

"S-should I go?" Tara asked quietly, nodding towards the door. "Because I can leave you alone, and…"

"No, you don't have to go," Willow took the witch's hand and pulled her to her side, then looked at Buffy. "She doesn't have to go…right?"

"No," the Slayer bit her lower lip as she slightly tilted her head to the side.

"Okay," Tara nodded. "Then…I'll go make us some coffee?" she suggested, and receiving approving nods in return, headed to their mini fridge.

"So what's up?" Willow started towards her bed, motioning for her friend to follow and Buffy waited while the witch cleared the bedcover from various herbs and other magick accessories, moving them to Tara's bed that was already loaded with similar things.

In the end, Willow was done and both girls sat down. After a beat, the Slayer jumped back to her feet and started pacing back and forth in front of the thrown witch whose green eyes were darting after her face.

"Riley and I," Buffy finally began talking, "we had an argument."

"You found him…everything's okay, right?"

"No, everything's *not* okay!" the blonde yelled, startling the approaching Tara out of her balance and nearly causing three cups of steaming coffee to spill allover the carpet.

"O-okay," Willow stuttered, thrown even more by her friend's reaction, hesitantly patting on the empty spot next to her, indicating for the Slayer to sit down. "You wanna sit now?"

Buffy ignored her and kept pacing the floor. "I'm losing it, will, I can't stand it anymore!"

"What?"

"Riley!"

"Riley is an it?"

"Riley's jealousy! I can't stand it, I feel I'm gonna explode if he ever-" she greeted her teeth and stopped for a second, before resuming her pacing. "I'm going crazy worrying about him, that he'd get a heart attack, which he by the way got, that he's going to *die*, and he's lecturing to me about not being *man enough* and not wanting to give up his super powers because Angel is stronger!"

"He said that?" Willow couldn't believe. "Well…Angel is…kinda, stronger as it is…I mean, the last time he came..."

"Will!" Buffy interrupted her. "It isn't helping me right now! After all we did, after all we've been through, I gave him a year of my life, I stayed with him when I could have grabbed the first…*Spike* that came my way, if super-powers was what I wanted, and it's still not enough for him! He's the one who slept with Faith while she was in my body, and *I'm* the one who gets to be not trusted! I forgave him, I could have dumped him there and then, but I didn't! He never trusted me, Will, never! I thought it was over last year, I hoped he got over it, but apparently, not only didn't he get over it, he thinks it's *okay* for him to be jealous! I never gave him *one* reason, not one reason…"

Willow eyed her tenderly, then sighed. "You know that you did," she said quietly.

Buffy's eyes fixed on her instantly, demanding an explanation.

"You never told him," the witch rephrased.

"Told him what?" the blonde frowned at first, but then Willow's words hit home. She sighed, and sat down next to her friend. "The entire time…while we were arguing…I was so terrified he was going to ask," she whispered. "And if he did?" Willow prompted.

"I don't know," Buffy shrugged feebly. "I don't know. I have no idea. If he asked…I don't know what I'd do. I would never get myself out of this mess, I know that much. We were at this point where lying just wouldn't do it anymore. It was just the truth and...if he asked me…chances are our relationship would be over." She drew in a deep breath and rose back to her feet, pacing across the carpet again. "That's not even half of it through. Riley upset me, but…he's not the only one who upset me."

"Who's the other half?" Willow asked gently.

"Angel,'' Buffy softly whispered the name. "You saw Angel?!" the witch's gaze widened.

"No, I didn't see Angel, I was too busy worrying about my macho-man of a boyfriend!" she replied sarcastically. "So what is it?"

"W-who is Angel?" the blonde witch stammered.

Her girlfriend looked up, a bit embarrassed. "Oh…ummm, well," she nervously glanced at Buffy, then back at Tara. "Well, Angel. The vampire…Angel. I-I told you about him, remember?"

Tara looked at her skeptically but nodded anyway.

"The vampire?" Buffy peered at her best friend, slight smirk evident in her voice as she uttered the exact term Willow had used. "That's how he goes around here now? Funny."

The redhead looked at her for a long moment, then finally said, "he can go by 'Angel' again…if you want to."

"If I want?" Buffy didn't understand what she'd meant by that question.

"You're with Riley now and…everything's different now. We never mention him, because you don't, Buffy-"

"Right. Because God knows you were such great friends with him!" the Slayer mocked.

"That's not what I meant!" the witch argued. "I just…meant that…people change, circumstances change, and…certain things stay in the past, a-and that's good that they do. Because they belong there."

The two women held each other's gaze for a long moment, clearly both not entirely agreeing with Willow's latter observation.

"Well, apparently, they don't," the blonde ultimately broke the silence. "And what really bites is that my boyfriend doesn't seem to want these *things* dead and buried. He very much enjoys bringing them up whenever his macho-jealousy kicks in." she stopped pacing and sat down on Willow's bed, folding her hands in her lap and looking down on them as she continued to speak, "But it's not just he, isn't he? I mean, I can blame it on him for as long as I want to, but it's not gonna change the fact that…it's me. It's my past and…I'm trying too hard to keep it there, in the past, and sometimes…in some twisted sort of way, I'm *grateful* for Riley's jealousy because…it's the painfully solid reminder to that he's ever existed at all. Because sometimes, when I'm trying so hard to forget…it's really working. And then he's gone. And then Riley's jealous for…whatever reason he has, and…he's here again. You know?" she finally looked up at the other two women.

And it really was working, she wasn't lying. It was working for a very long time, but still, every once in a very long while, she would still have that urge to open her bedside drawer and reach her hand for the small silver ring she had found glinting on her bedcover when she'd returned home after Graduation and stare at it until her lids would feel too heavy to hold themselves open. She had stopped doing that months ago though, she wondered if she even remembered how the ring looked like, as absurd as this thought was. Did he still remember, she seldom wondered. When she had seen him last time, so many months ago…there was no ring on his finger anymore.

"Was he the one who…" Tara hesitantly brought her hand to her neck to complete her sentence.

Buffy unconsciously reached for her scar and let her fingertips trace lingeringly over the fading mark. What was she going to do when it's completely gone?

Suddenly, she stood up and headed to the door.

"Wait," Willow tailed her anxiously. "Buffy, you never said-"

"I know." The Slayer turned by the door. "I'm going to. But I've just made up my mind about something, and I need to tell this to everyone. So I'm going to Giles'. Meet me there in half an hour, okay? I'll explain everything. Call Anya and Xander for me?"

"Sure," the redhead nodded, a little puzzled by her friend's out-of-the-blue announcement.

"Thanks," Buffy smiled weakly and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

"You never told me, you know."

Willow turned to look at her girlfriend, who was now standing right next to her. "About Angel," Tara clarified shyly. "You never told me about him."

The redhead looked down and sighed. "I-I didn't mean to leave you out, it's just…it never really…came up. He-he was…Buffy's boyfriend…"

The tender knowing gaze in the blonde witch's eyes caused her to stop. "That's all he was?"

Willow shook her head weakly.

"Then w-who was he?" Tara prodded gently.

"Her soulmate."

* * * * *

"So what's going on?" Xander asked, leaning back on Giles' couch, as Anya curled up under his arm and yawned. She certainly wasn't happy being woken up in the middle of the night

The Slayer surveyed everyone present and mustered herself for the upcoming. "I had a dream."

"Buff, if I called up a meeting every time *I* had a dream-"

"Xander," Giles interrupted him, bearing in mind that when his Slayer dreamt something, what's more, something she found important enough for a general wake-up call in the middle of the night, it was important enough to be heard.

"It was about Angel," Buffy went on, hoping this time to tell the whole story.

"You dreamt about Angel?" Willow cut in. "No, not exactly, I was…it was…*again*, I wasn't dreaming about him, I was…in his dream. He was dreaming, and I became a part of it, somehow, I don't know how."

"What happened there?" Giles inquired, rubbing his chin, suddenly completely awake.

Buffy looked at him awkwardly, and without even knowing, repeated the same answer from almost two years ago, "Stuff…happened."

"What stuff, Buffy? I need to know…"

"No, believe me, you really *don't* need to know. It was…private."

"Well, then…how do you know it was Angel?" the Watcher probed carefully.

"The same way I knew last time around. It was his past, Giles, things I couldn't possibly be a part of. But I was. In his dream, I…I saw everything. More than I wanted to," she muttered the last sentence under her breath, but Xander's ears picked it up nevertheless.

"Why can't you tell us what it was, what's with the X-files all of a sudden? If Dead-Boy has skeletons in his coffin, I'm, for one, pro-public exhibition."

"He's right," Anya supported her lover without second thought, though she didn't sound too convincing speaking as though out of sleep. "I'm tired and I wanna know why I'm here, so-"

"Don't start with me, both of you!" Buffy's patience clearly ran out. "I've just spent the night doing guest spots in my ex lover's sex sessions with his supposedly-should-be-*dead*-Sire-" she was luckily cut off by Anya before she spilled any more intimate details about something she hadn't wanted to tell *anything* about only a minute ago.

"Was it hot?" Everyone's eyes sharply turned on Xander's girlfriend.

"What? I mean, I've never done it with a vampire, but I heard stories, they say they're pretty good-"

"Do you mind?!" Buffy interrupted her in disbelief. When everyone finally looked back at her, she went on, "Can *I* please be the center of attention for one second? Does any of you even remember what happened the last time Angel and I shared dreams, or maybe a little trip down memory lane is in order?!"

"What happened?" Anya whispered in her boyfriend's ear.

"He went nuts, tried to kill Buffy or something like that-"

"He *didn't* try to kill me-"

"There was a whole deal with eye-less priests and evil spirits," Xander continued regardless to the comment.

"Oh. I heard about the priests," the former demon observed gravely, then shook her head, grabbing Xander's arm, looking up at the Slayer. "They're creepy. I don't want them here. Cure him!"

Giles sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing his brow tiredly. "W-what do you propose we do?" he asked Buffy.

"*We* aren't going to do anything." She inhaled a deep breath. "As far I go…I don't know."

"Buffy, ahm, Angel and you…well, you have always had a special connection. What I'm trying to say is that perhaps it doesn't mean anything…"

"But we don't *always* share dreams, Giles," she observed. "And it means pretty much *everything* in my book." She sighed, lowering her voice a bit. "When Angel and I share dreams…it's a cry for help."

Everyone turned to her expectantly. Ultimately, she said, "I'm going. I made up my mind. I'm going to LA."

"LA?!" her Watcher exclaimed, it being the last thing he was expecting to hear though inside he knew it should have been the first.

"Good, I'm not the only one not liking that idea," Xander grumbled.

Buffy sharply turned to him. "Don't push it, Xander. I'm not remotely interested. I said I made up my mind, which means it's final. I just wanted you all to know what I'm gonna do, I'm *not* waiting to hear approvals or disapprovals of any kind."

"Us *all* know?" he couldn't give it a rest, the conversation he'd had with Riley a while ago was standing unmoving in his mind ever since, it was bothering him more than he wanted it to. "Unless I'm going blind, I think that the one of us who actually *has* to know isn't even present for the breaking of the big news."

"I said don't-"

"Xander is right, Buffy," Willow took her friend's side. "This is…this is a big step. Are you sure it's necessary? Are you sure you're not just taking it because of what happened with Riley?"

"Or jealousy," Anya muttered in her seat.

"Riley is an entirely different issue, he has nothing to do with my decision."

"Aren't you gonna tell him at all?" Xander asked.

Buffy eyed him for a long moment, then replied, "No." After a pause, she added, "And neither are you. Any of you. I'll tell him everything when I get back-"

"Don't you mean *if* you get back? Come on, Buff, we all know it's not gonna be a five minutes visit like the first time or the save-him-from-Faith visit like the second time. So what's it gonna be?"

"Xander, cut it out, I don't have time for this now," the blonde dismissed him emphatically. "It's done. I'm going. I'm sorry you can't understand it, but one jealous boyfriend is *way* more than enough for me."

"Hey!" Anya protested.

But Buffy gave no mind to her. "It has nothing to do with Angel and I, or with our history, or with our past or…with *anything* that has to do with *us*. It has to do with Angel, and he needs help. *My* help. And like it or not, I'm gonna be there to give it to him, regardless to everything you guys are gonna say. Because I know he would have been there for me if case were reversed."

No one said anything for several moments, taking the time for the news to sink in. Every single one of them, even those who never knew the ensouled vampire, had a strong feeling he was going to make an official comeback into their lives following that visit to Los Angeles. "And I'm leaving tonight," Buffy delivered the final blow. "Right now."

Part 2

"Hey, guys!" Cordelia greeted Gunn and Angel from behind the front desk as they entered the Hyperion and walked around it to meet them. "So how'd it go? And…shouldn't Bethany be with you? Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty good with the hotel of the kind that…stays still, but…not like she has somewhere else to go. Especially after smearing daddy-dearest allover our sidewalk, I *so* don't see her being welcomed home with open arms."

"She didn't kill him," Angel told her, removing his long black coat and tossing it too the nearest couch.

"She didn't?" Cordelia eyed him doubtfully. "You know, that was some fall…"

"I think she broke it. The fall, I mean," he stressfully ran a hand through his spiky hair, sinking to the couch. "I don't know what she did. But I know there was no body and unless he got up and walked afterwards, I'm thinking he's alive."

"So what'd you two do with her?"

"Drove the lady to the buss station," Gunn replied. "Said she's going home."

"And you two brain-deads believed her?!"

"No!" both man and vampire grumbled simultaneously.

"Then why'd you let you go?" Cordelia moaned.

"Cordelia," Angel groaned, "I *can't* chain her to the wall and treat her like a child-"

"You can't chain her to the wall. Period," Gunn observed.

The vampire sighed and went on, "She's gotta figure things out on her own. At least now we know she can control this power and that's enough for me-"

"Enough for you?!" the former cheerleader interrupted him in disbelief. "It was *never* *enough* for you before! What if she's gonna *control* it by squashing ex-boyfriends with dumpsters just because the poor guys were late for a date? You wanna let that sit on your conscience?!"

"Cordelia!" Angel yelled, jumping up from his seat, his tone clearly told her he'd had enough. "I don't think there's much room left on my conscience as it is, so don't worry about that! Like I said, she can control it, so I trust that she will. I offered her my help, she didn't want it, she's *not* my problem anymore!"

Cordelia stared at him, wide-eyed, and if he hadn't known better, he would think she was genuinely scared.

"Still," came another voice, as Wesley stepped out of the office, approaching the trio, "letting her go, just like that, was rather rash, Angel."

"What are you doing here?" his boss turned to him, confusion on his face. "I sent you home…"

"Cordelia called me after you'd left with Gunn," the former Watcher explained. "I assumed I would be of more use here than in my apartment waiting for news. But seeing as you didn't bring her along…"

"Look, guys," Angel held up his hands, "if you don't like the way I handle *my* business, you're just…gonna have to learn to like it. I…I'm sorry. Not much I can do about it, okay? I made a decision and…it was the right decision." He turned to Cordelia, "And as long as I sign your checks, I appreciate it if you *try* to respect that. Now," he inhaled, turning to Wesley, "I had a long day-"

"Which lasted, what's the latest record…three hours?" Cordelia quipped, checking her watch.

Angel shot her an annoyed glare and she held up her hands in defense. "I'm going to bed," he informed, heading up the stairs. Wesley was going to comment, but Cordelia put a hand on his arm in the last possible second, holding him back. None of them had the slightest idea what was going on with their boss, but she had a feeling that more questions from the ex-Watcher and less actual answers from the vampire weren't going to solve the problem. She wished she knew what was though…

"What's up with the man?" Gunn asked Cordelia and Wesley after Angel was gone. "He almost drove us into a parked police car on the way back here. When was the last time he tested, fifty years ago?!"

"You okay?" the brunette sat down next to him.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Woke him up in time."

"He fell asleep?!" Wesley exclaimed, lowering his voice when he realized Angel might have heard that.

"Nah," Gunn waved his hand. "Just stopped caring. Like he wasn't there anymore."

"What is wrong with him?!" Cordelia hissed.

"Maybe a change of cushioning is in order," Gunn suggested jokingly.

"He doesn't use a coffin!" she hit his arm. Then calmer, she added, "But something's definitely up. What if he's having nightmares?"

"Cordelia, if people have nightmares, they actually tend to sleep *less*," Wesley remarked.

"When people go around crushing their cars into others, *that* means they sleep less," the African-American pointed out. "No," the Englishman dismissed it. "When a person is suffering from nightmares, he is reluctant to fall asleep, while Angel…he is drawn to sleep as if it's some sort of sanctuary, almost as if it gives him…peace. Sleeping is pretty much all he's been doing lately," he mused. "He's hardly ever up when there's no case to be awake for. And when he is awake…he's very disoriented at times. As…you noticed, probably," he motioned pointedly at the other man. "We can rule out nightmares."

"*Sure*, because *I* suggested it."

"Cordelia," he groaned, "Angel is a vampire with a soul. *Constant* nightmares aren't a special phenomenon, they're an inseparable part of his existance, a part of him. Considering all the dreadful things Angelus did…it wonders me how he sleeps at all. Nightmares are most certainly not a factor here."

"Then what is?" the former cheerleader asked.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "He looks as though he's…under some sort of spell, I can't believe I'm saying it, but…I even considered drugs."

"Angel on drugs?!" Cordelia shot him a look. "Hello, *wrong* vampire, Wes? This is too ridiculous, even for your overly-developed-lack-of-a-brain-"

"Well, why don't *you* come up with a better idea, Miss-top-ten-of-my-class?!" "Hey! Lovebirds!" Gunn clapped his hands and both colleagues ceased bickering and turned to look at him. "I think we have a client," he pointed at the door.

"Just what we needed," Cordelia muttered. "Just when we got rid of threat-number-one, hello number-two." She turned to Gunn and groaned quietly, rolling her eyes. "The only thing she needs rescuing from is you, so get your eyes back into your head, Romeo, you don't stand a chance." She lightly smacked the back on his head. "*However*, the only thing *we* are gonna need rescuing from is Miss-soulmate over there."

"Excuse me?" Gunn frowned at that.

"Gunn, meet the Slayer," Wesley introduced, just as Buffy finally approached their group. "Buffy!" Cordelia's irritated scowl broke into a wide beam. "*Great* to see you!"

"I bet," the Slayer replied, grinning dryly.

Wesley shook his head, glancing at his co-worker. "Nice to see you, Buffy," he smiled at the blonde, "this is the Slayer," he clarified for the man next to him.

"I just…go by 'Buffy' now," she smiled, extending her hand.

"Charles Gunn," he shook it, "and I just go by Gunn...anyone ever told you you're too tiny for a legend?"

"Looks can be deceiving," Cordelia inserted to herself.

Buffy eyed him strangely, then smiled slightly at the comment, "There's always a first."

Gunn's eyes roamed over the Slayer from head to toe, clearly trying to estimate her both as a woman and as a warrior. "So," he finally spoke again, "you're Angel's girl."

"I, um…"

Cordelia rescued Buffy without even knowing when she abruptly smacked Gunn again, this time stronger. "Don't put ideas into her head!"

Wesley cleared his throat, seeing his co-worker had clearly forgotten the concept of good and bad timing. "Well, Buffy…what brings you by?" he glanced at his watch, "At three o'clock in the morning…and with a bag," he observed her small suitcase. "You're…planning on staying?"

"Yes-"

"No!" Cordelia answered at the same time Buffy did, then, receiving a no-at-all-pleasant look from the Slayer, rolled her eyes and headed to the front desk to grab her purse.

"I'm of. If he's still not happy by then, beep me in the morning." With that, she exited the hotel. "What'd she mean by that?" Gunn wanted to know.

"Ahm," Wesley exchanged a quick meaningful glance with his former Slayer, "why don't we…*not* get into that now? So…Buffy, w-what happened? Did something happen in Sunnydale, is everyone all right?"

"Everyone's fine," the Slayer assured, then looked about the lobby, ultimately fixing her eyes back on the former Watcher. "But I don't think you can say the same."

"Wow, the gal's quick," Gunn remarked, chuckling. "She's been here for five seconds and you've been here for how long?"

"Gunn," Wesley interrupted him pointedly, then turned to Buffy, "W-what do you mean?" he rubbed his brow tiredly, attempting to look occupied with *anything* to avoid her eyes.

"You tell me," the blonde responded wryly.

Wesley was at loss. On one hand, he didn't want to let Buffy in on everything, not willing to suffer the consequences of her over-involvement in Angel's life which he knew would happen, but on the other hand…a sixth sense prompted him she was the only one who could pull Angel out of it, whatever *it* was. She hadn't said a word of any importance yet, but Wesley already knew she knew more than all of them did together. "How d-do you know? W-who told you, did someone call you, did…did Angel call you? Does he know you're here?"

"He doesn't know anything," Buffy shook her head. "And no one called me. You didn't, obviously, and between us, Cordelia wouldn't, unless her life was dependant on it…" she frowned thoughtfully, "and even then I'm not sure. Anyway…no one told me anything. I just knew."

"You knew?" the Watcher didn't understand.

Buffy took a deep breath, preparing to explain and also hoping to make it short. "Angel and I…we share dreams, we've always had this…bond."

The former Watcher beheld her with almost fascination, as her words started to wear a meaningful form in his mind. In his years as Watcher, as few as they were, he had seen some extraordinary things, but none could compare the experience of getting to know Angel, or everything he had heard about his relationship with the Slayer. And as it turned out, he hadn't even known that much about it. "So you…you had a dream, about Angel?"

"No. I shared Angel's dream. It's…a long story. Just that it happened before and learning from past experience I knew he was in trouble, or…that something else was wrong. So I came here as fast as I could. I don't know for how long I'll be staying, but right now I'm planning to make it as long as I can to…do what I can to help him."

"I see," Wesley nodded and sighed. "Well…I can only hope you succeed…in…helping him, that is. Because I certainly don't know where to begin, and I don't even know what's wrong. If you expect any help from either of us, I'm sorry to say I have absolutely nothing to offer you. I'm drawing the blank, Buffy. I honestly tried to research something at home-"

"Behind his back?" Gunn cut in.

"Of course," Wesley hissed, then looked back at Buffy. "I tried to look into my books, see if I could find something that might…cause this…strange behavior in him, but…"

"What *is* his behavior?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What's wrong with him?" Buffy rephrased. "What exactly is out of the ordinary?"

"Well…he…tends to sleep a lot. Actually, he sleeps more than he is awake. It's not like him. Also his temper is…well, gets out of control at times…"

"Did he hurt anyone?" Buffy demanded, her heart impulsively skipping a beat from the fear she might be already too late.

"Not…"

"Physically," Gunn completed what Wesley was going to say.

Buffy released a breath of relief. "He's just…strange," Wesley said, in an obvious lack of other word. "He seems to be ruled by sleep, seems like he's experiencing something, while asleep, that is more important to him than his everyday life, than his mission even. It's like…a drug. It's like he's being controlled by something…"

"Or some*one*," Buffy murmured.

"Excuse me?" he clearly wanted her to repeat that remark.

"Never mind," she brushed it off with a gesture of her hand, then looked back at the Englishman. "Is that it? Is that…everything?"

He shrugged slightly, unsure of what else to say, and Gunn took it as cue to step in. "He's not fighting," he added to what Wesley had said. "When he's fighting, he's like somewhere else, doesn't care about anything anymore."

"He's disoriented sometimes, like he's not sure he's awake when he *is* awake," the ex-Watcher tried to explain again. "Do you know…what's-"

"Causing it?" Buffy looked up. She held the man's gaze for some time and sighed. "I have my guesses. I don't know how solid they are, but…look, it's not the point now. I wanna talk to him."

"Good luck trying to wake him up," Gunn muttered, glancing up the stairs.

"He's asleep?" the Slayer asked her former Watcher.

"I'm afraid so," he nodded. "Would you like to settle down first?" he suggested, throwing a look over her shoulder at her bag. "We should find you a room and…"

"Later," she interrupted him, then looked up to the second floor, not speaking for several moments, just looking. "I need to see him first."

"Buffy," Wesley touched her arm, drawing her attention, "maybe you should wait…"

"I think I've waited too long as it is. Which room is his?"

"Two-seventeen," the ex-Watcher replied, unsure if he was doing the right thing by allowing it. But by the time he snapped out of his thoughts, the Slayer was already gone.

"Told you she was quick," gun remarked next to him.

PART 3

Angel slept. Or he thought he did. He never quite seemed to be sure anymore when he was awake and when he was asleep. His senses could shut down, seemingly in a moment of utmost focus, and he would slip into complete oblivion, without the slightest desire to pull himself back. He didn't even know anymore, he didn't remember if that world was a creation of his own or a place someone else had created for him, where he would always be welcome, but for some reason, never for good, regardless to how much he wanted to stay. He didn't know anymore, when his eyes were open, if what he was seeing was real, or whispers of his very own inner memories even he randomly understood. He hadn't asked for it, he knew that much. He had asked for peace, yes, but that request always remained unanswered, not that he ever thought he deserved for things to be different… Was that his peace? Was he doomed to relive the horrors of his past until he welcomed them into his dreams, into his life? Was there another way to explain what was happening to him for the past days? Did he truly find comfort in the very same thing he'd been running from for decades…decades that resembled to last longer than centuries?…

Yes, he did.

And he knew he did, and that was what was scaring him the most. How much of the grip he'd had over himself had he lost by now? How had it come to that he was dreaming of his demonic past and enjoying it? How was it that instead of fearing sleep, knowing what he'd have to face once it overcame him, he would welcome it, plead for it, hunger for it? Did he even know himself anymore?…

Angel sighed and stirred, his lids twitching, as the veil of sleep was slowly leaving him. He recognized that feeling only too well; the pain of being ripped out of his sickly sanctuary back into the world of wakening. He hated it, he didn't want it, he didn't *want* out…but he also couldn't fight it. He tried to fight it, again and again, he squeezed his eyes shut, until it hurt, until he felt his eyeballs were going to explode from the pressure. It didn't help. He never learned, he was so drunk in it, he couldn't learn; he wasn't controlling *it*. *It* was controlling him. And it would keep overpowering him, and reigning him, and consuming him…and in the end, there would be nothing left. Nothing at all. And he knew it. And he welcomed it.

Angel finally gave in and opened his eyes. His vision, blurry at first, descried someone blonde sitting in an armchair opposite to his bed. "Darla?" he whispered weakly, uncertainly.

"Second best," answered a familiar voice, engraved too deep within his soul to be consumed like everything else. "Guess again."

"Buffy," he gasped, as his vision finally cleared up. There she was, the last person he'd expected to see, sitting right there in his room. Her clothes were a little rumpled, indicating she'd been sitting there for quite a while, her legs gathered up to her chest with her arms wrapped loosely around them, her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but Angel noticed she'd changed it from last time. Her eyes were staring at him, mirroring emotions he'd forgotten they could show; pain, confusion…fear…

"What are you doing here?" he finally managed.

"So I'm guessing 'hello' was your second choice, then?" she clearly tried to lighten the disturbing tension that was building up between them. Angel peered at her for several moments then pulled his covers up to his chest, as though trying to hide from her piercing gaze. "Who let you in?" he sounded more imperious this time.

"My hand," the Slayer broke the ring around her knees and set her feet on the floor, glancing at her right palm. "Apparently, it developed a close relationship with your doorknob. Does that mean we're done with small talk?"

He gulped, as his throat suddenly felt very dry, and averted his gaze for just a moment. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough," she shrugged. "Definitely long enough to ask who *else* was here."

His head shot up, "What?"

The Slayer merely released a strained sigh and stood up, stretching to unwind her stiff muscles. Not only was she incredibly tired after everything that had happened, she was also sore allover from sitting in the same pose for about two hours, watching her former lover experiencing what she could only guess to be a very happy dream, the details of which she hoped to be spared. But why hadn't she even tried to wake him up?...

"Get dressed," she told him, heading towards the bathroom, clearly intending to leave him alone for that.

His mouth opened to ask something, but in the last minute, he changed his mind. It didn't matter anyway, since she no longer was there to hear it.

"When I said 'get dressed', I didn't just mean the lower part," Buffy observed pointedly, leaning against the bedroom's doorframe, when a couple of minutes later, Angel entered her sight, topless.

He stopped, looking at her with a strange statement. "If you'd only told me it bothered you so much, our relationship would have lasted much longer," he remarked, grabbing a black shirt from a nearby chair and putting it on.

The Slayer swallowed, her eyes hungrily staring at the last bits of his muscular chest, quickly disappearing behind the flow of buttons. She hadn't seen him in months, and only now realized just how long it had been. But no matter what, nothing could prepare her to what she had to face now. From the moment she first laid eyes on him when she had entered his room, a desire she had forgotten how to feel swept over her. That feeling, tormenting her, burned in her hear and soul, until every cell of her body was on fire. No, it wasn't bothering her. Of course not. Not one bit. Not at all.

"You want something?" his voice, that didn't even sound to her like *his* voice anymore, tore her from her reverie and she inwardly couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to get so distracted. "W-what?"

"I asked, if you wanted something," he repeated, unfamiliar irritation coloring his tone this time.

"Oh. No. Nothing. Just you…*to* sit down," she hastened to add, once realizing how wrongly her 'invitation' could be interpreted. But all fears were knocked out of her when she detected no changes in him whatsoever following that slip. Either he hadn't heard her, or he hadn't listened, or he simply hadn't cared. She wasn't sure which of the three was the worst. Nothing seemed to touch him anymore.

Finally, he joined her, after having finished all his 'errands', which had taken too long for the liking of Buffy's already strained nerves. She gaped at him in disbelief, like a little girl who was seeing a ghost for the first time, when he approached her with a lighted cigarette in his hand.

"What the *Hell* is wrong with you?" she asked, her voice low, somewhat dangerous, but mostly just scared.

Angel looked at her, inhaling the smoke and relishing it in his dead lungs, his eyes glinting with unfamiliar darkness Buffy couldn't overlook even if she *was* trying. "What did you expect to find here?" he asked nonchalantly, exhaling.

"I didn't expect anything." She tried to keep her cool as she spoke. "I came here to help you."

"Help me? With what, exactly? Why would *I* need your help, other than the fact it kinda contradicts your 'stay the Hell away from me' concept."

"We talked about it…"

"No, actually, if you insist on getting all the way back to it, I think our talk pretty much consisted of me apologizing, while you could at least be kind enough to do the same."

"Why are you talking to me like that?" she asked.

Angel groaned. "Like what? Like I want you gone? Well, that could probably be because I want you gone. Look," he took another long blow from the cigarette. "I'm not even gonna pretend to know why you're here. Personally, I *don't* know what you were thinking when you decided to come and *why* you came, but… last time I checked, saving souls was *my* mission."

"Then maybe you should look into it, because it doesn't seem to me you're starring in that field."

"That would be my problem," he retorted evenly. "Let's see it stays that way."

"Well," she shrugged. "Forgive me for caring about you enough to make it *my* problem."

He leaned back, chuckling softly to himself. "So that's what you're thinking about while screwing with soldier-boy. Glad to know I'm so important, it makes me feel so special." All traces of smile disappeared from his face. "Now why don't you get back to that, Buffy, and do us both a favor?"

"I think you're screwing enough for the three of us put together," she hissed.

"What?" he spat, narrowing his eyes dangerously as he drew closer.

The Slayer drew in a deep breath, focusing her entire energy and will power on keeping her boiling anger in check. Letting it erupt now would only make things worse.

Before he was quick enough to respond, she reached forward and yanked the cigarette from his grip, extinguishing it in an already full ashtray. "You'll listen to me now," she began, the tone of her voice leaving no room for discussion, her anger only rising, especially when the vampire appeared to be not at all impressed and simply leaned back in his seat, folding his arms on his chest expectantly. "You think you're gonna pull the self-destructive 'tude on me, and insult me, and it'll scare me?! Newsflash, honey, I've seen you in your worst, so you should know by now, I'm not easily scared. Is that your brilliant plan? To push away all the people who care about you until you're left *completely* alone to feel oh-so-sorry for yourself?! Because, hey, nice go, really, your friends are *deeply* impressed so far."

"Friends?" he sarcastically uttered the word. "Consider my 'friends' gone. I've been meaning to pull it off for a while, I'm getting tired of this crap. They're all fired, it's just a matter of time until I say the words. When I do though, the one who called you is the first to go. I'll be sure to have them thank you later."

"No one called me," she said quietly.

"Really? Then how'd you explain this?" he gestured at her. "You missed me?"

The Slayer held his gaze until he was forced to look away from her. As he did, it was all but visible how all his barriers started to topple one after another.

"Angel," she whispered softly, reaching out to touch him. But before he allowed her fingertips to come in contact with his face, in lightning speed, the vampire's hand closed around her wrist, and Buffy gasped fearfully, her heart speeding up, her mind unable to process the need to struggle out of his iron grip.

Without a word, Angel stood up and pulled her up as well, and without releasing her hand, led her to the door, opened it with his free hand and pushed her out of the room. Buffy stared at him, as they both stood from opposite sides of the doorway, as his eyes softened back to almost normal, no longer dark, no longer burning, just pained, returning her gaze.

"Stay away," he whispered, and shut the door in her face, locking it from the inside.

* * * * *

It took Buffy several long moments to fully digest everything. She inhaled a deep, very needed, breath and closed her eyes for a second, brushing the tears she'd just become aware of off with her fingers. Her hand reached for the knob, but she pulled it back before she was able to touch it and clasped it in a fist, so tight her knuckles paled.

"Buffy?" a voice behind her spoke and she whirled around in alarm. "It's okay," Wesley hurried to assure her, "it's just…me. Gunn went home an hour ago. Are you alright?" he asked softly, taking in her shattered statement and red-trimmed eyes. "Not my brightest question, I suppose," he later mused.

The Slayer sighed, wrapping her arms around her middle and leaning back against the locked door. "What did she do to him?" she murmured, only partially aware of her words.

"She? Buffy…"

"Never mind," she waved it off with her hand. "It's just my thoughts…doesn't necessarily have to make sense."

He nodded in reluctant acceptance. He had a very strong feeling she knew more than she had revealed to him, and for Angel's sake at least, he wished she let him in on that information. He knew she would eventually, but he wasn't sure 'better late than never' applied their scenario. "Would you…like to tell me, what you…what Angel dreamt about?" he attempted to bring it up. But failed, as had been expected.

"No," she refused, a bit apologetically. When she looked up at the ex-Watcher, her gaze softened. "Maybe later, Wes, okay?"

"Of course. Take your time, only…perhaps I could help…somehow…if I knew."

"I'm convinced more and more none of us can help. He's…I don't think I know who he is anymore…or what he is…"

"Did you talk to him?" he asked after a beat.

The Slayer sighed. "A part of me wishes I hadn't."

"Yes," he sighed, too, running a hand through his hair. "You won't try again, then. Not…tonight, that is."

"No. Not tonight."

"Good," Wesley nodded thoughtfully. "That's good. I think. I…took your bag, I put it in the room next to his, your key is in the lock," he motioned towards the door in question. "I assumed you'd want to stay as close as possible to him though…I'm not quite sure you want to stay at all anymore," he looked her in the eye.

She waited for a moment before answering, holding his gaze. "I don't."

He nodded in understanding. "Well…I should go now, maybe catch a couple of hours of sleep after all." He headed towards the stairs. After making only few steps, he stopped. "Buffy?" he looked at her over his shoulder. "If you need anything, at all, just call me. You'll find my number in the office. Call me anytime."

She smiled bitterly, "Thanks."

"And Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"If…something changes…call me?"

The smile vanished. "I will. Wes?" she stopped him, just as he was at the head of the stairs. "That new…you…I like it," she offered him another weak smile.

The former Watcher looked down for a moment, as though he was about to blush, then looked back up at her, his statement grave again. "Whatever happens…it's good you're here for him."

Buffy didn't say anything for a moment, then pushed herself from the door and walked into her room.

* * * * *

Angel moved away from the door and let his eyes wander over his room, exhaling a gray cloud of smoke from his lungs, courtesy of his newly lit cigarette. Why did she have to come here?! What was he supposed to do, how was he supposed to deal with her? He couldn't deal with her, not now of all timings. She confused him. She confused him so much even what used to make sense, stopped making it. She made him wake up, that's what had confused him so much, no one had managed to do that before, not like this. He hadn't thought of her almost at all ever since those dreams had begun, it was as thought she had been erased from his mind, from his memories…only to be replaced with *her*. Why did she have to show up like that out of the blue and throw him like that, why couldn't she just let him be?! Why was she trying to save him when he didn't *want* to be saved? Why did she *care* about him?!

And after the way he'd treated her…Angel chuckled, well, he could certainly add *that* to his long and proud list of accomplishments. He couldn't believe she actually *stayed* after all that. No. Of course he could. How could he ever think she wouldn't? He glanced at the wall to his right, and down on the cigarette in his hand. After a brief hesitation, he walked over to where he'd left the ashtray and put it out. Then he neared the wall that separated their rooms and leaned closer to it. "Buffy?" he spoke her name, but no answer came from the other side, even after he waited for a while. "I…I'm sorry. I'm sorry about…everything," he spoke anyway, regardless to having not received any sign that she was actually listening. "I don't want to hurt you…God, that's lame," he breathed deeply to clear his lungs. "I don't know what I want. But I know I wanna be alone. I don't need to talk, and I don't need help. All I need from you is to please leave me alone. The way things are now…this is…this is how I want them to be. You wouldn't understand, I don't expect you to, you haven't been a part of...m-me, m-my life for…too long. Just please…please, let me have that. I need that."

* * * * *

Buffy listened some more, hoping to hear his voice again, maybe he would speak some more, maybe he would say something else. But nothing followed. She sighed and leaned back against the wall, letting her body slide to the floor as if she were a spineless puppet. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, inhaling a shaky breath, as a lone tear slowly trickled its way down her cheek.

PART 4

He saw her, in the crowd, dozens of people walking by and she was unnoticed by them all, while he…couldn't see anyone *but* her. She stood out for him, while everyone and everything else meshed in the background, like in a dream…or in a nightmare. She wore red. Blood. It made him think of blood, not because it was red, but because it was on *her*. The memory of her blood, pumping through his veins like fire, while his pumping through hers, his entire being reeling in the ecstasy, the crimson liquid stinging him from the inside, refilling him with power, dark, inconceivable power, almost similar to his own. Memories swamped him and there was no escape. And with them came the flashes, vivid flashes, both of dreams and things that had happened centuries ago; pictures, sounds, smells, all real. Just like he knew *she* was. He could scent her, she filled his entire being, brought out in him what he'd been striving for decades to lock in, and he was unable to resist her. Suddenly another face emerged before his eyes, the face of a small blonde Slayer, and she was gone. And for just one moment, she washed over him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't set himself free, couldn't go back to *her*. Memories merged with memories inside his head, creating turmoil he was unable to cope, until he barely could tell where one ended and the other began. Angel closed his eyes and stumbled backwards, luckily for him, hitting a wall instead of the ground. He opened his eyes again, panting. *She* was gone.

* * * * *

Yawning, the Slayer made her way down the stairs of the Hyperion into the lobby. "Slept tight?" Cordelia greeted her in her typical manner.

Buffy eyed her quizzically.

The brunette raised her wrist to show her the time, which was a little past ten pm.

"You gotta be kidding me," the blonde muttered. She couldn't believe she'd slept through the entire day, she had never in her life slept like that. Clearly, it could all be the result of everything that had happened before she'd dreamt of Angel and the fact she was unable to fall asleep for over an hour after she'd talked to him. She had been drained, that's for sure, but still…the last thing she was supposed to do at a time like this was sleep. It was one luxury she couldn't afford just yet. God only knew what had happened, what he'd done, while she hadn't been there to watch him.

She looked at Cordelia, who wasn't paying attention to her anymore, but instead was busy with a stack of papers. Then her eyes wandered over to Wesley and Gunn, who had just entered the hotel. Well, at least he hadn't fired anyone yet. That was good…circumstances given.

"Nothing?" the ex-cheerleader asked her two co-workers, as they approached the front desk. Gunn handed his sword over to her, while Wesley took the tranquilizer out of his pocket and put it in front of him on the counter. They both equally shook their heads, obviously not carrying good news.

"What happened?" Buffy asked, taking in the equally disappointed statement on their faces. "Where is Angel?"

"Angel's gone," Gunn replied evenly. "Your boy's been running lose for about eleven hours now, and no one knows where, or if he's still on the home team at all."

"What?!"

"I don't want to say you shouldn't have gone to sleep, Buffy," her ex-Watcher observed gravely, "but…you might have been...the only one who could have stopped this in time."

"Did you do it with him?!" Cordelia jumped in. "And say the truth, because if you two did the horizontal and you turned him evil again, you know I'll know."

Buffy glared at her. "Are you out of your mind?!"

"Okay, we can rule that out," the brunette mused quietly. Ignoring her, Buffy turned to Wesley, "Why didn't you wake me up?! What-what were you thinking?? What happened?"

"We didn't…see the need, at first," he attempted to excuse the inexcusable, *knowing* what they had done was wrong. "Then it was too late anyway…"

"*Now* is too late!" she yelled at him. "*What* happened?!"

The trio glanced anxiously from one to another, as if trying to decide which one would be doomed to tell her. Finally, Wesley sighed, resolved to take it on himself. "We had a case today," he began in the beginning. "We were supposed to follow that woman…her husband told us she was being abducted by aliens on regular basis, but he suspected there was more to it than she said." He sighed again, becoming more anxious as he was nearing the point. "In the hotel, where we were watching her, Angel spotted a woman, he attacked her right there, quite brutally even, out of nowhere, and kept calling her Darla…his Sire…"

"Darla…" Buffy repeated the name in a whisper, her eyes wandering off the former Watcher, who continued with the story.

"Yes. Well, he achieved nothing but scaring the poor woman out of her skin, if not worse, who by the way, ran out of the hotel into *direct sunlight*. After we came back here, he started acting even…stranger than normally, kept insisting she was Darla, that he needed to find her…I tried to tell him he wasn't being rational, that she couldn't possibly be his Sire…he wouldn't hear reason, he wouldn't listen. After a while, he just took off. No one has seen him since."

"Why?" Buffy cut him.

"Why…" he appeared to be confused for a second, unsure as to what she meant, "well…he staked her, as far as I know, you were there, you saw it…"

"So what?"

"Vampires can't come back from the dead…"

"Yes they can," she kept insisting, the look in her eyes told him nothing he would say could convince her otherwise. "He did. I-I killed him. I sent him to Hell, and he came back to me."

Wesley looked at her for a moment, not knowing what to say. She had just brought up the same argument Angel had. "But she was human, Buffy," he tried helplessly.

She nodded. "What did you tell him?"

"Told him?" he didn't understand.

"When he kept saying it was Darla, what did you tell him?" she repeated the question, slower this time.

"I…told him he was hallucinating, that…he couldn't possibly be right, it couldn't be true. I tried to be as level headed as I could about It, but…Buffy…it was madness. He was…"

"*He* was madness," Cordelia remarked. "That's pretty much what *I* told him. He's crazy, he lost it, he needs help. Serious help. Pronto. You should have seen-"

"Oh my God," the Slayer murmured, walking away to the center of the lobby, bringing her hand to her forehead as though heaving a sudden headache.

"Buffy…" Wesley began cautiously, but she cut him off, sharply whirling around to face them again.

"Do you even realize what you did?! How could you?! How could you do that?!"

"Do what, I…"

"You all should have stood by him, you should have supported him! You knew the state he was in, he was on the edge, y-you should have believed him, no matter how irrational what he was saying was! You should have believed him until *beyond a shadow of a doubt* he's proven wrong! And he wasn't! He wasn't proven wrong!"

"What?" the former Watcher made a step towards her, but she recoiled from him, swiftly holding her hand out, palm up.

"I thought we covered that part with 'walked into direct sunlight'," Cordelia muttered, but it was clear even she wasn't convinced anymore they had chosen the right approach to handle the situation. Buffy had too strong a point.

"Shut up!" the Slayer snapped, holding a menacing finger in her direction. She was too confused to think rationally in that point. After her fight with Angel, she had been devastated, but later, when he had tried talking to her through the wall between their rooms, she couldn't help harboring at least the tiniest spark of hope that she could still reach him. And now…now that spark had extinguished completely. She was more at loss now than she'd ever been.

"Excuse me?! Who do you think-"

"Cordelia!" this time, Wesley was the one to quite her.

She glared at him, then at the Slayer, her eyes dark and angry. "Look, Ms-know-it-all, *you* weren't there, *we* were! You don't know what happened, *we* do! So don't tell us how we should have acted, okay?! No one gave you a lecture after you jumped his bones on your birthday and he went out on a killing spree among your friends!"

Buffy stared at her, a once deeply buried hurt slowly creeping into the rage in her eyes. "You're right," she said finally, her voice more even and composed now. "You were there, I wasn't. *You* screwed it up. *I* wouldn't have. I've done my share of mistakes, Cordelia, and yes, the worst of them was ripping the man I loved from his soul, and that's something I'll *never* forgive myself for. I *don't* need you to remind me. But it *doesn't* change the fact that what you did…I don't know if it can be repaired now, I *don't* know!" her voice kept rising practically with every word. "He needed you guys the most, he needed you to trust him, or at least give him the damned benefit of the doubt, and you gave him nothing! He's more lost now than he's ever been thanks to you, do you even get that?!"

No one said anything. No one could even look at her.

Ultimately, she spoke again, glancing at the door, "I'm going to-" she never finished the sentence though, because that very moment, the door slowly opened and, oblivious to everyone, the vampire in question walked through it into the hotel.

"Angel," Buffy said his name, but he didn't even look at her, or at his employees, just continued his way towards the staircase, clearly heading to his room.

"Angel!" she caught up with him and grabbed his arm, turning him to face her.

"Let go," he muttered, in a low, threatening voice, though his facial statement hadn't changed one bit from impassive and he, still, wasn't looking at her.

"No," the Slayer shook her head resolutely.

"I'm warning you, Buffy," he hissed. "I'm not in the mood for games, let go of me."

"That's just fine by me, because I'm not in the mood to play any." She didn't give even the slightest impression she was about to obey him.

Suddenly, his eyes locked with her, as a low growl rumbled up his throat, his features shifting into those of a vampire, as he ripped his arm out of her grip and in a flash, had her sliding across the floor, in such strength, she only stopped when her head hit the stairs.

Nobody moved. He stood there, his statement becoming more shocked by the second as he kept staring at her unmoving body, not even aware of his face morphing back to human form. "Buffy," he gasped, so quietly, no one but him heard it. "That's it," Gunn grabbed the tranquilizer gun from the counter behind him, not taking his eyes from the vampire, aimed at his back and released the trigger. Angel instantly span around, not only showing no signs of pain, but also showing no signs whatsoever the drug was in any way working. All traces of fear and confusion vanished from his face as he began advancing upon the African-American. "Didn't work," Gunn observed, rapidly producing a stake from his back pocket, set and ready for the upcoming attack. "I bet this will."

"Put that down!" Buffy's firm voice stopped him, and everyone, Angel included, fixed their eyes on her, standing a few feet away from them, thick trail of crimson blood trickling from a deep gash in her right brow, where her head had collided with the step. "Don't you dare touching him," she told Gunn, who was still holding the stake in his hand, leaving no room for arguments. "He wants to fight so much?" she turned to look at Angel and wiped the blood from her brow with the back of her hand, staining her sleeve in the process, though the flow soon resumed. "You wanna kick ass…by all means, be my guest. But you're gonna have to pick someone your own size. Come on," she opened her arms invitingly.

"I think she got the size part a little out of-ow!" Cordelia's eyes flashed angrily at Wesley, who had just nudged her side. Angel just stared at her, while his employees all but had their breath caught in their throat. "I won't touch you," he finally said, and it almost seemed that the humanity was gradually returning to his bloodshot dark orbs. She laughed, but wasn't at all amused. "Last time I checked, it was a *little* too late for that statement of chivalry. Come on, Angel," she motioned at herself again, "punch it out. Clearly, talking isn't your stronger side nowadays, so I say we move on to something we both *still* have in common. Kick my ass!"

The vampire looked at her for another long minute, then spun around, heading back to the door the way he'd come. "Oh, no, you don't!" the Slayer ran after him and grabbed his arm again, whirling him around as though he were half his size and weight. Before he could do anything, her fist connected with his face in a force that would have broken the bone if he were human. He stumbled backwards, slightly astonished, wiping his split lip.

"You want out? The *only* way is through me," she said.

"Maybe we should-"

"Shut up and watch, Wesley," Cordelia pulled her co-worker back to her side. "I can't believe these words are coming out of my mouth, but she knows what she's doing. If anyone can knock it out of him, it's her, and if she picks the…literal approach…so be it."

The Englishman glanced at her in disbelief, then looked back at vampire and Slayer, who still hadn't moved to start fighting. "Yes," he mused after a beat, "I presume she does. He's standing on the line now."

"So question is," Gunn continued his thought for him, "on which side is he gonna fall?"

That moment, Angel delivered his first blow.

* * * * *

"I can't!" he yelled, delivering another punch, which the Slayer ducked, sticking her leg out for him to trip over and he landed on his back, not paying attention. Buffy jumped on him, but he grabbed her shoulders, shoving her off of him on her back and closing up on her with his thighs, pinning her to the ground. Wesley, Cordelia and Gunn were staring at the two with utter fascination. They'd been going at it for over fifteen minutes now and didn't seem to appear worn out at all, or close to finishing it.

"You can't what?" she punched his face, sending him flying across the hall and setting herself free, jumping up to her feet. "I can't free from her," he ripped the remnants of his shirt off of him and tossed it to the floor, making a swift comeback himself and attacking the Slayer again. "I see her, I feel her, I want her, I *need* her!" he punched her, causing her drop to the ground, but she kicked him off when he was about to nail her again. "She fills my head," he grabbed Buffy's shoulders, shaking her and brutally throwing her to the floor, "my mind, she controls me and I cant resist, she's inside," he landed on her again and she kneed him off, jumping up and kicking his gut. "She's outside," Angel huffed, "she's everywhere and she's nowhere! I can't stop thinking about her, I can't get her out!" he regained his balance, round kicking the Slayer in her middle just when she was about to wipe the floor with him again. "I fall asleep only because I *know* she'll come to me, I can't make her leave, I don't *want* to!" his fist connected with Buffy's face. When he was about to strike again, she grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, causing him to release a strangled cry. She kneed him off of her, releasing his arm and he turned on his heel, flying them both to the ground. "I can't tell this to anyone, they all think I'm crazy, and maybe I am! I know I am," he panted, as she punched him from her, rolling over and straddling him with her legs, delivering a second punch in his nose. "I *know* she's not there, and I *know* she's not real, I killed her," he said, averting his eyes from the Slayer, as his arms loosely landed on the floor by the sides of his body, indicating he had lost interest in the fight. "I shoved a stake through her heart," he whispered, still not looking at Buffy, and the Slayer slowly, carefully, climbed off of him. "She's not real," he continued, his voice unchanging, the same distant whisper, only now a tear started making its way from the corner of his eye into the lobe of his ear.

Buffy looked at him, her gaze softening, her own eyes tearing up as she folded her legs under herself and sat down next to his still lying body, gingerly picking up his hand and cradling it in his own.

Angel's eyes remained far away from her, as if she weren't there at all. "And at the same time…she's more real than anything now…she's always…*always* there," his eyes finally locked with the Slayer's and she emitted a sigh of pure relief, when she found them filled with nothing genuine fear and pain.

"Help me," he whispered, as his chest, formerly rising up and down as his lungs pumped for air he didn't need, suddenly stilled again. She let go of his hand and reached for his shoulders, bringing his body up and wrapping it with her arms, hesitantly at first, but more confidently when he gave in and rested his head on her chest.

Buffy took a deep breath and tightened his embrace, securing her arms around his beaten back, her own bruises suddenly becoming perceptible as pain she hadn't been aware of before shot through her body. But she only closed her eyes, cradling him closer, digging her fingers in his wet hair.

"What the Hell?" an outside voice from the door tore into the deathly silence that seemed to have settled down on the entire hotel.

PART 5

"Riley," Buffy managed to squeeze out the name, as her eyes found the ones of her boyfriend's over Angel's head.

As soon as the vampire heard her pronounce that word, he stiffened in her arms and pulled himself together as if nothing had happened, drawing back from her and climbing to his feet. Without throwing Riley even a glance, he headed up to his room.

Snapping back to reality but still confused, Buffy stood up herself and ran after him. "Angel, wait!" she asked, but he wouldn't stop. He didn't even turn around. "Angel, please stop," she pleaded, standing at the bottom of the stairs, having given up chasing him all the way to his room, knowing it wouldn't do any good anyway. If he wanted her to come, he'd make at least a tiny effort to let her know that.

But he didn't answer. He kept walking, until he disappeared from her sight completely, and she soon heard his door being slammed behind him.

Buffy sighed heavily and hung her head in defeat, wrapping her arms around herself. "Are you ever going to explain this?" her boyfriend asked behind her.

She slowly raised her head, but didn't turn around to look at him. "What did you do?" she hissed, biting her lip as she realized more and more the full meaning of just what he'd done.

"What-"

She span around, surprising him so much, he almost jumped back. "You have any idea what you did?! I was *so* close-" she pursed her lips, averting her eyes for a second. "You don't have a clue what you've just ruined. You can't even *begin* to conceive…wait here," she instructed, and began climbing up the stairs. In the middle of the staircase, she stopped and turned around. "Don't move," she warned him. "Wait here until I get back."

Riley didn't even get the chance to protest before she, too, was gone.

* * * * *

"Can I come in?" the Slayer peeked into the vampire's room, holding the door open just a little, but making sure to stand outside, until he allowed her to enter, anyway.

No answer came.

"Angel?" she tried again. "Please…can I come in? Just for a minute, I promise. Please?"

"Fine," he whispered, but didn't turn around. Buffy walked in and sat next to him down on the bed. They didn't say a word for several minutes, then Angel sighed, stretching out his hands and cupping his knees with his palms. "Shouldn't you…be with *him* now?" After a beat, he added, "I bet he wants answers."

"I'm sure he does," the Slayer acknowledged. "And I probably should." She took a deep breath and turned to look at him. "Angel…I need you to know…I will help you through this. I need you to trust me. I won't let…*it* consume you anymore. I will stop it. I'll find a way. I promise you."

He nodded. "You should go."

She nodded, too. "I'll be back. Tonight. I'll be back. I'll stay here with you."

He looked at her strangely. "We'll figure it out. Together. Okay?"

He didn't answer, just kept looking at her. His eyes almost as soft and soulful as she'd remembered them…the very same eyes she could drawn in without even noticing. And without even noticing, her hand carefully reached up for her face, as if guided with a will of its own, and her palm gently cupped his cheek, brushing over it for a long moment in which he, too, seemed to be absent from the real world.

But then he came back, darting away from her touch and awkwardly averting his gaze from hers. "Go," he whispered.

And she did.

* * * * *

The first person who approached her when she descended down the stairs was, surprisingly, Cordelia. She held an ice pack in her hand and offered it to Buffy, motioning with her free hand at her own forehead. The Slayer eyed her with slight disbelieving frown, then accepted the offering and put the bag to her gash, which was barely bleeding now. She sighed, as the soothing cold penetrated through her skin, seemingly, into every part of her being. The fight with Angel started taking its toll on her and there were very few places in her body that *didn't* hurt. "You okay?" Cordelia asked, obviously being 'nice and caring' towards Buffy wasn't one of her stronger sides and was just as strange to her as it was to the Slayer.

"Peachy," the blonde grimaced slightly.

"I only care about you because you helped Angel, just so you know," the brunette pointed out. "For me, you're still and always will be a walking time bomb."

Buffy gave her a look. "I'll keep that in mind, Cordelia. And…next time, when you decide to care about Angel, it'll be a good idea if you…*cared* about him."

Cordelia frowned at that, clearly not seeing the hidden not-so-subtle hint in the Slayer's words. At least, not yet, since she let it drop without a typical comeback. "I'll go check on him now…he probably looks as bad as you do."

"I appreciate the compliment," Buffy smirked, "but I think you better stay here."

The ex-cheerleader put her hands on her hips, throwing the Slayer a challenging look, "Says king-you?"

"Cordelia," she inhaled a deep breath. "Find something else to do. You've done enough for Angel today, *please* leave him alone. I'll finish with Riley and I'll go up and check on him myself."

"Nice priorities you got there," Cordelia remarked dryly.

Though she saw Cordelia's point, and even agreed with it up to a certain extent, she still wouldn't let her enjoy even the smallest victory. "Just stay out of Angel's room. Leave him to me."

"Yes, Sir, Jesus…" the brunette mocked, pushing her way past the Slayer up the stairs.

Buffy groaned as she watched her go. As much as she might have changed over the past year…some things were embedded too deep within the Cordelia Chase official trademark to ever be removed.

"You think you can squeeze me into your tight schedule for the next five minutes?" Riley's voice drew her attention and she revolved to face him.

"It seems like you already squeezed yourself in, Riley," she remarked, making the rest of her way down the stairs. "You know, the concept of *calling* before showing up…you *really* gotta look into it."

"So that I won't interrupt another *intense* session between you and your ex-lover next time around?" he shot back.

"Don't even go there, Riley, just *don't*!" she glared at him. "Dammit, this isn't about you, this is about a person I care for, who needs help, *my* help, so get over yourself!"

"A person, ha?"

"Why did you come here?" Buffy asked, sitting down on the first step, not even contemplating over entering another debate concerning Angel's vampirism with her boyfriend.

He looked down at her, "I was worried about you."

"So that's how you call it nowadays," she muttered, mocking his excuse, then looked up at him, fed up. "Well, you know what, Riley, I've always been an old fashioned gal, so how about we stick to 'jealous'? I can't believe you. You're just…you're unbelievable! You weren't worried about me, you came here to *check* on me, do you know how low this is, how it makes me feel?"

"Buffy…"

"Don't Buffy me!" she cut him, not interested in whatever he had to say for himself. "You came here to check on Angel and me, and *this* is beneath low! You blew up something so gigantic today with your movie-style entrance that I *still* don't know if I wanna be in the same room with you! This is just…too much," she held up her free hand in a gesture of complete disbelief.

"This is too much? When I walked in here and saw my *girlfriend* on the floor, hugging her ex-lover in a little *too* friendly manner, *that* was too much. You take off without even bothering to leave me a *note*, and you know what, yes! When I found out you went to Angel, yes, it pissed me off!"

"You *found out*?" she narrowed her eyes, then a realization struck her. "It was Xander, wasn't it? Just wait till I get my hands on him…"

The ex-commando nodded bitterly, combing a hand through his sandy hair. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, clearly hurt by her dishonesty.

She shot him a look, "Well, gee, Riley, I don't know! To avoid *this* maybe?! I've answered your question, why don't you answer mine; why do I always have to feel inadequate with you, why do I have to feel I'm not doing enough for you, *why*, after a year of relationship, I'm *still* not trusted?! Why do I need permission from the-man-of-the-house to see my ex?!"

"Buffy, stop that…"

"No, I won't stop that! I finally started it, so I don't see how stopping is in order until I *finish* it! God, I…" she winced, bringing her other hand to her head as well. "I can't do this now," she muttered, then looked up at her boyfriend. "Riley, you came in the worst possible time. I can't argue now, I really can't okay? We're not gonna have a nice small chat now, we're on a one way street to a not-very-nice very big argument. My head feels like my head is gonna jump out of my ears any second now, and that aside, I have to be with Angel…"

"Angel? So this *is* about him?"

"God, did you hear what I've just said?! I can't fight with you now, okay? Please, let's make a rein check and insult Angel later? How about when I get back home?"

He smiled, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. "I don't think I'm gonna wait for the never-gonna-happen, Buffy. And I don't wanna fight."

"Well, it just happens that you lack a choice. In both," she stated, rising up.

"You're not coming back," he remarked, at the same time let down and not so surprised. "You won't leave him. Not again."

The Slayer stopped after only several steps and whirled around.

Her boyfriend finally sat down with a heavy sigh, after having been standing the entire time. Without directing his gaze at her, he went on, "You know, the way…the way you were holding him when I walked in on…when I walked in, I could feel it. I could feel what you felt, what he felt. You'll never know how much seeing that hurt me."

"What are you saying?" she inquired carefully. "What are you talking about?"

He laughed dryly. "A year ago, I would have probably attributed it all to some kind of mind controlling power that he has over you, that you get some sick thrill from a close relationship with the dark and the brooding. I know better now though."

"Do you?" she challenged, folding her arms on her chest, clearly not liking his usage of words.

Riley eyed her for a moment, inhaling a deep breath. "Do you love me?" he struck.

She just stared.

"Buffy please, answer me. I'll go, I promise. I just need to know the truth…need to know it from you."

"Go? Riley, I…I care about you…a lot, I…"

"No, Buffy," he stood up. "Not *care*. Love. This is what I wanna know. I already know…especially after what I saw tonight, but…I gotta hear you say it."

You don't know anything," she hissed.

"Buffy, it shouldn't be that hard," he chuckled ruefully, "when your boyfriend asks you that question, it should take you less then a second to answer-"

"Well, then you should have said 'start'," she remarked harshly.

He only looked at her, not saying anything at that.

She swallowed, as the child in her still innocently wondered how come her eyes weren't even tearing up, how she could still breathe…how come she didn't feel like dying. While the woman knew. "I don't," she whispered.

His lips curved in a bitter knowing half-smile. "I know. I've always known. Just like I've always known how much I loved you. Well…I thought I did, but I guess you can't really say you love someone when they don't love you back. You…hadn't been mine long before I claimed you. I thought I could…take someone that belonged to another and *make* it mine… Dammit, he's a lucky son of a bitch," he sat down again.

"I don't wanna lose you, Riley," she said softly, but didn't make a move to come closer, or to touch him.

"And I wanna gain you. Ever. But that's never gonna happen, is it? Besides, isn't it better for you this way?" he motioned up the stairs. "Soulmate's waiting."

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You really love him so much?" he wanted to know.

"It doesn't matter. We can't be together, Riley, you know that. That I love him, or that he loves me…it doesn't matter."

"Sure you can. You'll find a way, Summers," he grinned weakly. "You two can't stay away from each other even when you are away. And it does matter. It matters to me. If I had any resemblance to a brain inside of me, I would have held on to that tiny piece of dignity I still got left and disappeared through that door. I guess I prefer not to leave loose ends behind. Not of that kind, anyway. So…no more secrets. Okay? Just answer the question."

Without hesitation, she nodded. "I always have. I always will. It's not something I can switch on and off, it's not something I can control…it's just me. The real me." She laughed, leaning against the wall. "What can I say, you're the only vampire hunter who hooked up with the only girl who's ready to give her life for a vampire. Ironic ha?"

"Yeah," he stood up, "but not exactly my choice of words," he remarked. "Tell the real you…good luck, when you see her. Cuz I never had the pleasure."

"Riley, wait, please…" she started after him, but he turned around, signifying her to stop right where she was. "It's okay. It's fine, don't…feel bad or anything. I'm fine. After living for a year with his shadow hovering over me, I'd better be. I'm glad it's over like this though. I'm glad you told me. If you ever get back to Sunnydale…don't look me up."

"I need you," she whispered, somewhat pleadingly.

"No," he said, smiling, stopping one last time by the door. "Not me."

PART 6

When, several minutes later, Buffy returned to Angel's room like she'd promised, she found him in bed, clearly having been asleep for quite a while. She sighed, inwardly cursing herself for having not listened to her instincts and left him alone to talk to Riley. Her feelings concerning Riley were still unclear to her, breaking up never came easy, even in a case where nothing really held a couple together. It would take time…but it was a time she didn't have. And the time she'd taken to break up with her currently former boyfriend she also should have never wasted.

The Slayer neared the bed and turned the lights on, not even trying to keep quiet. "Angel," she shook his shoulder.

No response.

"Angel, come on, you know I won't give up until I wake you. Open your eyes, Angel, come on. Angel," she shook his both shoulders, and a bit more intensely than the last time.

"No!" his eyes flashed open and he fixed on her, clearly not seeing *her* at first. "It's me," Buffy said softly, letting go of him at once. "It's just me, it's okay."

"Why?" he mumbled, beginning to gradually return to the real world as he pushed himself up on his elbows. "Why are you…"

"I promised you, didn't I?"

"You're not going home," he observed, even though it was more of a question he needed *her* to answer than a mere observation.

The Slayer frowned, "Who or what gave you *that* idea?!" he looked her in the eye for a moment, until she sighed knowingly. "He didn't come to take me home. And even if he did…I wouldn't go with him. I promised you I was staying…remember?"

The vampire sighed and sat up, cautious not to move his covers too much. He peered at Buffy pointedly for several seconds before she grasped what he had in mind.

"Right," she muttered, and uncomfortably stepped back, retreating into the bathroom. She couldn't believe she'd actually forgotten he was sleeping naked, *especially* after she'd insisted on him being fully dressed just the other day.

"I'm done," she heard him say after a minute and came out. "I'm…" she tried to say something, but Angel walked right past her, as if she were invisible, towards his kitchenette. The words died on the tip of her tongue as she was looking after him, eventually fixing her eyes on his broad back. "You're…hungry?"

He didn't answer. Instead, asked a question of his own, "You fought with Riley, didn't you?" That direct question stunned her, coming from him, especially in a time like this, it was only *too* strange. "W-what…no!" she protested, though the tone of her voice alone convinced neither of them. Still, it wasn't the time to discuss her relationship, or the lack of, with Riley, and it certainly wasn't thew time to discuss these things with *Angel*. Though she knew that if his feelings were half as serious as hers, he'd be thrilled to have Riley out of *their* way, but he would also be sorry, for her, for having lost what he'd thought he'd left her for. Either way, he *didn't* need that now.

"Nothing's changed between Riley and me, if you really wanna know. We're the same as we've always been."

"You forget something," he interrupted her before she could go on, walking back to the bed with two steaming cups of coffee. Offering one to the Slayer, he put his on the nightstand. "You can't lie to me," he muttered, as he sat down next to her. "Not even if we're ex's."

Buffy allowed a tiny smile to light her eyes for one moment. "I'm not lying to you. I just…don't wanna make an issue out of something that's not…an issue."

"If you wanna talk…"

"Hey," she looked up. "I'm supposed to be taking care of *you*, remember?"

His nod came out a bit more strained than he'd predicted it to, and he looked away from her, abstractly reaching for his coffee. "What happened to you? Angel!" she took the cup from his increasingly shaking hands just before it was about to slip to the floor. Angel gasped, seemingly in surprise, then closed his eyes, taking his time to collect himself.

"Angel?" Buffy hesitantly reached for one of his hands, but he pulled it back as if from fire. His eyes flew open, but he didn't look at her.

"You look like you're gonna explode if you don't scream, Angel, what is it?"

"It's you," he mumbled.

"Me? You…wanna yell at me?"

"You make me do this," he stood up, making a few steps away from her, facing her with his back. "You make me control myself." He span around, for some reason, breathing heavily, "I don't want to!"

Buffy leaned forward and held out her hand, clearly waiting for him to take it. Finally, he did and she pulled him back, not letting go until he sat down. "You wanna lose control," she observed, "because that's what you've been doing…with her. You lost control. You lost…you. And you liked it."

"How do you know?" he looked at her. "You…you believe me?"

She nodded, smiling slightly, "I do. I know you, Angel, in spite of what you think, and…you're *not* crazy."

"Aren't I?" he laughed. "Even I don't know that. I don't know anything anymore."

"Angel," she took his hand, and this time he didn't dart back from her touch, but embraced it, squeezing her hand back and lacing his fingers with hers. "What's happening to you is not your fault. You're not making anything up."

"Not what Wesley says. According to him, I only see her because I dream about her, and I only dream about her because I feel guilt…and I feel guilt because I killed her," his words died away with the last words.

The Slayer swallowed hard, nodding. "I understand that. I-I know that. You…share a bond-"

"No," the vampire interrupted her abruptly, "not a bond. She…she was my Sire. She *made* me. No matter how much I pray I could return this gift, it's *her* gift. She made me…for a hundred and fifty years, she molded me into what I am, the demon in me, and maybe the man, too. She…" he paused, suddenly needing to clear his lungs. "For a century and a half we shared everything…we were one. *She* was everything, just she and the thrill of the kill. Then I got my soul back, and I lost her. And when she came back…I staked her," he looked at Buffy and whispered, "for you."

She pulled her hand from his and averted her eyes. For the first time, she was really afraid she wouldn't be able to cope what she'd taken upon herself. She wondered if she hadn't made a too crucial mistake overestimating her abilities or her power over him. What if she was facing someone who possessed twice her power?…

But she couldn't go back now. She wouldn't let herself. She wouldn't let whatever's being done to him to go on, not if she could help even a little. But could she go forward?…

"I'm sorry," Buffy whispered.

"What?"

"That you had to kill her. I'm sorry it had to come to that. I know…Hell, I *don't* know." She looked up, right into his eyes. "I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you. You…loved her…"

"Loved her? Where did you get that idea?…"

She didn't understand. "I thought…"

"You think I lied to you?" he brought forward a memory from almost two years ago without needing to use the exact words.

"No," she whispered, but inside, wasn't entirely convinced. She couldn't help but suddenly contemplate over the possibility of Angel having feelings towards his Sire he wasn't showing. But he shattered that thought before it could take actual form in her mind.

"I never loved Darla. God, Buffy, I was a soulless demon, love…wasn't even the last thing on my mind. We…shared…something, but…"

"So what was it?"

"I can't explain. There's…there's too much to explain. And even if I could…you wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't," she echoed sarcastically.

"Buffy…"

She stopped him with a gesture of her hand. "You said you…needed her. Why did you need her?"

"Because she could make it all go away," Angel replied, without even needing to mull over the answer. "I'm a two-hundred-and-forty-eight-years-old vampire with a soul. And when she's here, she makes everything go away, makes everything stop. I suddenly don't have centuries of murder and mayhem to atone for, because I don't feel human enough to care. She…she makes the nightmares, my *worst* nightmares, so pleasant I crave for *seconds* of sleep. She lifts every burden, takes away every pain, every emotion, She…"

"Makes you soulless again," Buffy finished for him. After a spell, she asked, "Is this what you want? To lose your soul? To let everything you've been working so hard to achieve to just go down in flames? That's not you, Angel."

"It's not? You don't know that. *I* don't know that. Maybe it is what I want? Maybe I *want* the pain to stop?!" he stood up. "In those dreams, she shows me a world I tried to forget I ever knew, a world I repressed, a world with no suffering, no pain…no soul, no conscience…no nothing. And she makes me like that world allover again, long for it, crave it like a drug!"

"That's not…Angel, your soul is precious…"

"My soul is Hell! It's pain, and it's torment, *constant* torment, the magnitude of which you can't even conceive! I told you once already, Buffy, you don't know what it's like to have done everything I've done and care, and you don't. You have no idea," he said quietly, his eyes glazing with tears.

She stood up and walked up to him, not speaking, just acting. They were caught in each other's eyes for a moment, before she finally wrapped her arms around him.

"No," she sniffed, pulling back after a while, "I really have none. But even if I don't know this, I do know you. And you don't really want it. It hurts, Angel, I know. It'll always hurt. But it's good. Every good thing comes with the price of pain. Believe me, I know. And you know, too. You're not ready to give it up."

"That's the problem," he made a step back. "I'm not so sure anymore."

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, until the mysterious silence started to disturb even Angel himself. "This is impossible."

"Oh really?" he asked, though not quite clear as to what she was referring to at that point.

"No, Angel, not…not you. I don't mean you. I mean what's happening to you. It's clear someone wants you to slip."

"Slip?" he was still a little thrown from the sudden change of subject.

"This isn't guilt, Angel. You're…" she paused, trying to come up with the right words to explain herself as subtly as possible. "What you did happened years ago, it's a little unreal for the gilt to only hit you now. You're not doing it to yourself, someone is doing it to you. Whatever *it* is, anyway. Someone wants to drive you over the edge, a little at a time, because they want you to *willingly* give up your soul. And what's worse, these guys, whoever they are, seem to know what they're doing," she motioned at him, as if to prove her words.

Angel chuckled, "What are you saying, someone goes through all the trouble to make me so screwed up I'll start seeing my Sire wherever I go? I *saw* her, Buffy. It wasn't a dream, I saw her…" he sat down, the confidence in his orbs dissolving into nothing. "I don't know what I saw."

"No, it's worse than that," she brushed off his doubts. "Think. Who that you know might have the resources and the power needed to bring her back?"

"What?!" he almost jumped to his feet in surprise, but Buffy held him down. It was true he had supposed the same thing just a while ago, but hearing it from someone else…only made him see just how ridiculous it sounded.

"Listen to me," she insisted. "I felt her presence, I have been ever since I came. She's here, all right, it takes a Slayer to know. You wouldn't notice in a million years, anyway. They made sure to mess up your mind so bad you wouldn't know the difference between night and day. But I can. And I *felt* her, Angel. And what's even more weird…I think she's alive. And I mean it in full sense of the word."

Angel just stared.

PART 7

He watched her, as she slept, seemingly completely unaware of her surroundings, lost deep in the land of dreams. Whether she was also unaware of him…that he didn't know.

They had kept talking into the night, they were still talking, when he got up to draw the curtains together when the black of the horizon started melting into the pink and orange of the impending dawn. They hadn't only talked about Darla. In fact, they had finished talking about Darla about three hours after she'd woken him up. The conversation just veered itself towards different subjects than his Sire, without them being able, or wanting, to control it. They talked about him, about her, about the so many things they had missed in each other's life for the past two years. She told him about Riley. It took her a while to even want to talk about it, but even though he had to admit, he wasn't the best conversation partner last night, he somehow managed to make her talk. The entire time she spoke, and he listened, at least when he was able to keep his mind clear enough to keep focus on her, he couldn't help but feel he was the first and only person to know about at least ninety percent of everything she was telling. A part of him wondered how come she'd never opened up to anyone, to Giles, to Willow…even to Xander. But maybe what he really wanted to know was just how much they all could have changed for her to keep up the parade that was her relationship with Riley for over a year without telling either one of them the truth. She had changed, too, he noticed. She had changed a lot since the little high school girl he remembered standing in the fog and watching him go with tearful eyes. He still held a distinct memory of that girl, which made it even harder to learn that the woman she had become had buried most of her qualities so deep, they became unreachable even for her. She had changed so much…and so had he. After having been one for such a long time, they found themselves colliding in some aspects, and they both knew the reason for that was that what used to be in common between them once had been pushed back to the darkest corner of their minds. He had thought for some time he was the only one who was spending hours atop hours just looking at her picture, but he knew now it wasn't true. She had been doing the same, in her own way, only that her way, instead of reflecting upon the couldn't be, was to plainly burn *his* picture out of her memory. They'd both made an effort to forget, both *wanted* to forget, and at the same time, didn't. And they had changed, both by nature and by force, all to erase the painful memory of everything that used to be.

And now he was watching her, watching her sleep, just like he'd done countless times, for hours, from the windowsill in her bedroom, from the spot next to her on his own bed in the mansion on Crawford Street, or his apartment…in a day that never happened, and she was still the most beautiful sight in the world. Looking at her sleep had even chased Darla so far out of his mind that even traces of her memory became barely perceptible. Ironically, she had been the one who'd made it her mission to keep him awake through the night, but she was also the one who had been first taken over by sleep in the end, while he had strangely found himself too fascinated with her to be able to close his eves. Even for Darla. When he watched her sleep…everything ceased to exist, like a frozen image, of only her sleeping. Every time she stirred, or sighed, or moaned, memories swept over him, feelings awakened that, in many ways, hurt him thousands times more than any memory of his past. He had clearly needed to see her, like that, submerged in the innocence of sleep, to realize just how much he had missed her all that time. He remembered what he'd told her, how the thoughts of Darla prevented him from feeling anything else because they possessed the ability to rob him from his essence of humanity. What he hadn't told her though was that *she* was the only one who was somewhat able to stop his pain just by making him *human*. Or maybe he just hadn't realized…that only with her he felt…forgiven.

She sighed again, yawning, and he perceived the rhythm of her heart gradually speeding up, back to full awakening, and he couldn't help the irrational drive to do *anything* just to stop her from waking up. Another soft sigh escaped her lips and she burrowed her face into his armpit, curling up against him until she fitted perfectly in his arms once again. Somehow over the night, too asleep to pay attention, she managed to bring herself from across the bed right into his arms. And though he was awake the entire time, he hadn't even tried once to stop her or to keep her away. It felt too right to be wrong, he lacked the strength in him to resist something so natural. He'd kept fighting the urge to wrap his arms around her, and in that, at least, he'd succeeded, even when her body language practically begged for him to. But she still wouldn't stop. And it seemed to him that while she was living a dream, she really didn't know what she was doing because she was too free, too at peace, both with him and with herself, for her actions to come from consciousness. He didn't know whether that fact saddened him or honed his awareness of their reality, just that he never wanted her to wake up. Because when she as asleep…he allowed himself to know that he loved her.

But then she moaned, yawning, as her still sleepy face made its way up to rest on his chest. "Hey," she mumbled softly into the rumples of his shirt, her eyes still closed. When she opened them though, Angel could all but hear her heart racing out of her chest, just as her cheeks flushed with crimson she was desperately trying to hide from him. "Sorry," she muttered, pressing one hand to his chest and pushing herself off of him, as if only now realizing what she had done.

Angel just looked at her, not knowing what to say or do.

"I-I don't want you to get the impression…"

"What impression?" he found his voice again.

"The wrong kind," Buffy moved even farther away. "The not 'it's purely business' kind."

"I see," he looked away momentarily, certain annoyance creeping to his voice and reflecting his inner feelings. "I'm glad you cleared that up, actually, because for a moment I though-"

"Angel, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," he held up his hand. "I'm not remotely interested, Buffy, really, and besides, you haven't owed me an explanation for soon to be two years now. So…we're good here. Let's keep it that way. It's better for us both."

"I just…I want you to know that I *know* exactly where we stand. And that I won't try to cross it. Ever. A-again. Ever again," she stuttered, looking down into her lap saying the last phrase.

"You won't see me complaining," he grumbled, a little angrily, getting up, too.

"Look!" the door abruptly flew open, revealing a very excited Cordelia and right behind her, Wesley and Gunn. "I told you," she motioned at the stunned vampire and Slayer. "I knew, I just *knew*!"

"What the Hell-" Angel stopped in mid sentence when Cordelia shoved a large wooden cross in his face, a little too close, and he darted back so surprisingly he would have fallen from the bed, if Buffy hadn't grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back just in time. "Are you bad?" the brunette questioned the vampire as the Slayer stared at her in disbelief.

"What is this?" she demanded.

"Buffy…"

"You tell us," Cordelia cut Wesley short. "I present before you the woman who invented the deadly interpretation to the statement 'sleeping with the boss'," she gestured at the blonde. 'His bed is *off* limits!"

Buffy gaped at her, then her gaze wandered over to Gunn and Wesley. "You think Angel and I… We *didn't* sleep together!"

"All evidence point otherwise," Gunn commented, regarding the bed, with both vampire and Slayer still on it. "Care to let us in on what exactly we're missing out?"

Buffy surveyed the trio one last time. "I can't believe you, people," she got up, making her way through them towards the door.

"I need a shower," Angel remarked, standing up, too, unlike his former girlfriend, not caring about his employees' opinions. He'd had way more than enough for one morning. "Coming to think of it, I could use one, too," Buffy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes instantly turned on her.

"In *my* room!" she exclaimed, and slammed the door behind her.

* * * * *

"Welcome," Cordelia mumbled, pretending to be too busy with papers to look into Angel's eyes when he walked down the stairs later that morning.

He shot her one not-very-pleasant look, not saying anything, and walked right past her to eventually throw himself on the sofa.

"You do that again, Cordelia, you'll regret it," he remarked after a while, not even bothering to look her way.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the coffin today," she grumbled to herself. "I mean it," he hissed, looking at her this time, not playing along with her attempts to lighten the mood. He was struggling for self-composure as it was, and after the brief 'understanding' with Buffy that morning, the last thing he needed was Cordelia's nose in his business. "Don't forget you *work* for me. There's a line you don't overstep. I'm warning you. I won't hurt anyone and I won't turn *evil* and my word should be enough for you."

"I see your warning and raise one of my own," Buffy shot a pointed icy glare at the brunette, walking down the stairs.

The ex-cheerleader rolled her eyes at the Slayer. "Things were just great before you came, you know that? He went mental-"

"I'm not-" the vampire tried to insert, but was ignored completely by his employee. "But at least he didn't go homicidal, now look what you did! Now my boss's not *only* crazy, he's crazy and threatening *me*!"

"I've had it," Angel muttered, rising up, and went back to his room.

Buffy watched him go, until he disappeared from sight, then turned at Cordelia. "You seem to have a major death wish these days."

"I was worried about him!" Cordelia protested.

"You forget who you're talking to, Cordy, I tolerated you for almost three years in high school."

"You sure it wasn't the other way around?"

"The only person you're worried about is yourself," the Slayer argued.

"Yes, I was! Okay? I was. And why is it so wrong? But I *care* about Angel, get this into your blond head already, you're not the only one who cares about him!"

Buffy folded her arms on her chest, "But I seem to be the only one not calling him crazy in his face, do I?"

Cordelia just glared at her, appearing to be at untypical loss of words. "You owe him an apology," Buffy spoke again, her voice empty of any sarcasm this time. "You owe him more than just one."

"Look," the brunette took a deep breath. "You're maybe used to seeing him…like that, but I'm not. And I'm scared!" she gestured at herself. "Because I don't know how to be there for him like you do, and I don't know how to handle it! I handle it the only way I can, okay?!"

"Then find a new way," Buffy said quietly, yet firmly. "Because insulting him *isn't* it. You are *not* the only one who's scared, and this isn't about you, it's about Angel. You have no *idea* what it does to me, seeing him like that, but it's not about me either. It's about *him*. You wanna be there for him, so I say it's time you started. Because what you're doing now is only making things worse."

The two women just looked at each other, not saying a word as the intensity about them thickened, as if they both were trying to win the argument with their gaze.

Buffy was the first to break eye contact when Wesley and Gunn joined them in the lobby. "Wes, I gotta ask you something," she walked over to the former Watcher, completely forgetting about Cordelia.

"O-of course," he agreed, clearly still a bit embarrassed from earlier that morning. "B-Buffy, I want you to know…"

"I know," she assured him. "Forget it, it's not the point now."

"Alright," he nodded.

"Who's…or *are* Wolfram and Hart?" she asked. "Angel told me about them last night, but we somehow never got through the details so I'm kinda fuzzy about some stuff."

"I see. Why…never mind. What stuff, exactly?"

"Who are these guys?" Buffy sat on the couch behind her. "What kind of power do they have…are they human?"

"Well," Wesley scratched his scull thoughtfully.

"All humans, as far as we know," Gunn replied. "These people have vampire detectors in their building, so I doubt any are working there. And they pretty much have the power to pay huge cash to whatever with actual power to do everything for them. That should sum it up."

"I'd say it does," Wesley observed. "Buffy…these people aren't supernatural, they have no…no supernatural abilities of sorts, such as you, for instance, they don't practice magick. They have resources, however, they protect every lowlife imaginable and have contact with every lowlife imaginable. If they want something done, they usually can pull it off. Why…why are you so interested in them all of a sudden?"

"Angel," she said, leaning back with a sigh.

"They've been on his back the whole time I knew the man," Gunn observed. "Nothing's new there. They want him dead, his mission being to eliminate their clients one by one and all. They go way back, really."

"No," the Slayer shook her head. "I don't think they want him dead anymore."

Wesley took off his glasses, peering at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Would you guys…for the sake of argument, say these…lawyers can resurrect a vampire?" she suggested waveringly. The two stared at her, still processing her words. "You're saying what I think you're saying?" the African American asked after a short spell.

"I tend to go for yes," Buffy confirmed. "So you believe Angel?" Wesley observed.

"I always believed Angel. Question is, how we *prove* him right."

"I don't think we can," the Englishman sighed in defeat.

"Oh, I'm sure we can. If I could just see her…"

Both men looked at her.

"I could identify her," Buffy explained. "I'm the only one here who saw Darla before, I would recognize her in a flash, if I saw her again. Anyway…it's a Slayer thing, I can't explain it. I just know that she's really here."

"What are you gonna do about it?" Cordelia asked from the desk.

"I don't know," Buffy said sincerely. "I'm worried more about what Angel is gonna do. He'll try his best to save her, from them, from...whatever, to…help her, I don't think he'll…kill her again. Anyway, we've both reached dead-end in one way or another. We never really had to deal with a human *vampire* before."

"Human?!" the three asked simultaneously.

Part 8

Wesley peered carefully at the Slayer. "Buffy, you understand that if this is true, it's beyond everything we ever needed to face before. If this is the control she has over him now, what happens when she becomes more dominant? I shudder to think what we might be up against."

"Well, then while you're working on that, how about *I* work on finding a way to prevent that from happening?" she stood up.

"I know," Cordelia exclaimed, "call Giles!"

"What?"

"Well, he…knows stuff. Maybe he can help." At Wesley's slightly offended look, she sighed dramatically, "What? I'm just putting things in perspective here. We need help."

"We don't," Buffy objected. "Besides, I'm not gonna drag them into this. The less people are involved, the better, and I don't want anybody in Sunnydale to know."

"Um," the brunette raised her hand, "you do remember you've been her for days and haven't picked up the phone once, right? I'm not even gonna ask whether you still haven't been kicked out from all your classes, but I'm betting your friends are gonna start wondering at some point."

"She's right, Buffy, you should tell them something," Wesley sided his co-worker. "I assume you'd be here for longer than you expected and…I'm not attacking you here, but…"

"What English is trying to stammer out of him is that another sudden arrival of a jealous boyfriend is not exactly helpful," Gunn cleared up.

"I guess I really gotta say something," the Slayer mused. "Riley won't come again, but I can't have anyone else popping up here either. I just…"

"You'll think of something," Cordelia handed her the phone, with a wide grin on her face. Buffy accepted it skeptically and dialed a number, inhaling a deep breath.

"Willow? Hey, it's me…"

* * * * *

"…Yeah, I know, Will, but I still don't see how I'm the *only* bad guy in the story. I can't…look I can't take care of everything, not relationship-wise, anyway, hence it usually consists of *two* people…"

"She talks on the phone more than I do!" Cordelia hissed to Gunn, while the three were watching Buffy during her conversation with Willow.

"No one talks on the phone more than you do," Wesley pointed out, as the Slayer continued to argue with her best friend.

"Which one of us just broke up with her boyfriend, Will? Don't tell me I don't feel anything, okay, because you don't know that… - No, you don't… - He's not… - look, he's not the victim here, okay? Haven't you ever considered the possibility that breaking up was exactly what we needed? *Both* of us?… - I *wasn't* happy! All you needed was to open your eyes and see…" She clasped her hand into fist and held the receiver away from her ear for several seconds.

"Will, I *always* talk to you and you know that," she resumed the conversation. "There's just some things I really thought I didn't have to say. Especially not when I'm too busy convincing myself they're not true… - This isn't about Angel," her voice returned back to normal with that sentence, instantly drawing full attention from Cordelia. "We're not getting back together, I didn't do it for him, I did it because…because there was no other way…. – God, what was I supposed to say? 'Gee, Riley, I know I don't love you, and gee, I'm so sorry you'll never fit into my ex's shoes, but all these tiny pesky details aside, you think we can still go steady?'"… - You know something, Will? I *am* sorry. I'm sorry I ever started this whole mess, because guess what, you're right, it *is* all my fault! I should have never tried to pursue a serious relationship when I was in love with…" her voice faded off as she locked eyes with Cordelia, inwardly cursing the fact it wasn't a cordless phone in her hand. After a moment, she neared the received to her ear again, this time, whispering, "Starting a new relationship just as a way to get over the old one is no way to start a relationship, so in that scenario, I screwed up. So are we all happy now? I *screwed up*. There really isn't much I can say at this point. And by making Riley a part of the Hell that is Buffy's love life, I hurt him. There, I screwed up, too. But there's nothing I can do about that- Willow?" she frowned at the phone, then raised her eyes to find the mischievous grin of Cordelia, who was standing a few feet away, with the cord in her hand. "Why did you do that?" Buffy replaced the receiver in its cradle.

"To save you from even more public humiliation out of the goodness of my heart. But mostly to save whatever part's left of my paycheck after you babbled on the phone for like an hour," the brunette replied. "But between us girls? You were begging for it."

"Right," Buffy nodded. "Well, thank you *so* much for your help, Cordy. I'd be eternally grateful-"

"Don't mention it-"

"*Especially* when I get back home and will have to face double."

"With everything that's happening here, by the time you get back home, she'll forget all about it, trust me," Cordelia patted her shoulder.

"Did you talk to her about Angel?" Wesley inquired.

"I did. Didn't get into details, but I said enough to keep them away for a while, to give me time to get things back on track…weren't you here?"

"Some of us weren't as busy eavesdropping," he shot a pointed look at Cordelia. "I can't help thinking though," the former Watcher mused, "perhaps you should have told them after all. Giles, at least. For once, you'll be away for…I don't know how much longer, and besides, this is hardly a situation you can leave hidden from them for…any period of time. You understand that if things do get out of control…"

"Things won't get out of control," the Slayer insisted.

"Buffy, be reasonable. I…I understand it's hard to accept the possibility of Angel reverting to Angelus. It's hard for all of us, but especially for you since you experienced it first hand already, I understand that-"

"*Don't* give me that speech, Wes," she refused to hear any more of what he had to say. "You don't know the first thing about it. From what I'm getting, you guys what…had your 'moment with the demon'? Well, I had months. Months, in which the demon was wearing my lover's face, taking out people close to me one by one and there was nothing I could do because I *couldn't* kill him. So tell me again how you find it so *hard* if you don't even have the slightest idea of what's coming at you! And you wanna know something else? As much as you all are *relying* on me to have the job done, I'm making it my mission to stop it *before* it's happening, because in spite of everything, I *won't* be able to kill him again!"

Cordelia, Gunn and Wesley stared at her, even for several moments after she'd finished the speech that slid a little off the general topic of the discussion, letting her inner fears out into the open.

"I think he just meant to say they'd like to get a head start before the boss goes for lunch," the former cheerleader suggested quietly, breaking the silence. "Well, they won't need it, Cordelia," the blonde replied, leaving no room for doubt. "Because that's not gonna happen. I won't let it happen. On *my* watch, he won't slip."

"Ahm…okay?" the brunette looked at her skeptically. "You know, that speech just *really* made us feel so much better about everything, I gotta give you that…"

"I need to talk to Angel," Buffy turned to go, giving no mind to either Cordelia or anyone else. "Not there, you don't," the brunette stopped her as she was about to climb the stairs. "What do you mean?"

"When he left, he went to the sewers' exit," Cordelia pointed the way. "Which means he's not in his room. I don't have a clue where he *is* though."

"You mean he went out? In the middle of the day?"

"Like that'd be a first," the ex-cheerleader gave her a look.

"In his present state, it'd better be," Buffy remarked, checking her watch.

"So any idea where to?" Gunn asked.

"He mentioned something to me last night, when we were talking about him and Darla…we talked about the last time he saw her…where they met…"

"They *met*?" Gunn interrupted her. "I guess he forgot to mention that little detail…"

Buffy shot him an 'I wonder why' look, then went on, "The first time he saw her was briefly on the street, but the second time he…anyway, there's this abandoned used-to-be a convent…"

"You think he might be there?" Gunn probed.

"I think it's the only place where he might be. He won't do this somewhere where he can be found. He went looking for her, that's for sure," she glanced at Cordelia. "There must be a sewer access somewhere in that place, just gotta find it."

"What are you planning to do?" Wesley asked.

"What seems to be my routine lately," Buffy sighed, heading for the door. "Stop him from doing something stupid before it's…what's the cliche? Too late."

* * * * *

"I knew you'd come," Darla grabbed his lapels and roughly pulled him for another kiss. Angel buried his hands in her blond hair, urging her head up as his tongue hungrily explored her mouth. He didn't even know what was driving him, what was controlling him, but he couldn't get enough of her. It was a hunger, frantic, imperious hunger he was unable to contain. He didn't even feel her heat, or her breath, or the pounding of her heart against his still chest. All he felt was *her*. The lips that were locked with his now were the same lips from over a hundred years ago, the tongue that stroked allover his bare fangs was the same tongue, and the blood he was pumping right out of her mouth…was the same blood.

Suddenly, he pushed her from him. "You called me," he said.

Darla smiled, licking the blood from inside her mouth and her swollen lips. "I did. I always do. I waited for you…I waited for you to answer. Nobody knows better than me what even my boy can't resist."

Angel's face morphed back to human. "It can't go on this way and you know it. You can't keep doing this…"

She laughed, "Honey, you're missing the point. It takes two to make it go on. You want it, Angel," she reached him with a single long stride. "You *crave* for it, hunger fore it." She sniffed her way up his chest to the final button of his shirt, where her lips brushed gently over the smooth pale skin. "Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?" she challenged, in a low, sexy voice, looking up into his haunted eyes.

"My boy," she whispered seductively, not tearing away her gaze, "over two hundred years, and still doesn't know a thing about himself. You *need* me," she grinned, elegantly pushing herself off his chest.

"I don't need anyone," Angel argued, his voice weakening with each sound he made. "I didn't need you then, and I don't need you now." He made a step back. "Oh, right," the former vampire mocked, the triumph in her voice changing into anger. "You're your own person now. One that found *true love*, no less. I keep forgetting. Why did you drag me here then, Angel?"

He scowled, not responding to that.

She beamed again, walking up to him, a dangerous smile on her face. She grabbed his coat and pulled him to her. "I know why," she whispered, passing her tongue over his firmly sealed lips. "My boy is still in there, and you can't fight it," she roughly pulled him even closer, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her, digging his fingers in the rumples of her silky blouse. "Because he doesn't let you," she said, before her lips plugged his and he instantly gave in, inviting her tongue into his mouth. "Hell knows why I thought you needed help," a cold voice spoke from nearby, interrupting the fervent session. Angel shoved Darla off of him, his eyes locking with Buffy's, filling with disbelief and pain at the same time, while her own pain was well concealed behind the thick veil of ice and anger. "You seem to be doing just fine on your own," she observed, and sharply turned around, quickly leaving the way she'd arrived.

Darla gazed up at his face, clearly interested in his upcoming reaction.

After a moment, he started the way Buffy had left, which certainly *wasn't* the response his Sire had in mind. "Angel!" she yelled after him, but he didn't even turn around. "Angel, *you* came for me! You came to me and now you're going with her?! Angelus!"

But he was long gone.

Go to Part 9