DISCLAIMER: Joss's, not mine. Plot mine. Don't steal. Not nice. Don't sue. Not nice either.
TIMELINE: Season 6, but it really has nothing to do with what's REALLY going on in the season.
SPOILERS: None, really.
SYNOPSIS: Buffy watches Angel sleep without him knowing. Kinda.
DISTRIBUTION: Land of Denial. Whoever else wants.. TAKE! Just lemme know where it's goin'!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It's really sweet, kinda sad, and generally just sad fluff. Listening to the song "Dream A Little Dream" at the same time can't hurt either. Oh yeah.. it's a songfic.
FEEDBACK: . SEND IT SEND IT SEND IT!
RATING: G

She hadn't done the stalking thing... well, ever, really. It had always been Angel's game, and he was good at it too. She had said it to him once: "I didn't see you, so I should've known you were there." And it was true, as much as Buffy never wanted to admit it. If he couldn't be seen, he had to be there. He was always there.

It had been - hell, it still was - her comfort. As much as she had bitched and moaned and complained, she had always loved the feeling of him being there. His presence made her feel safe. Her life after he left had felt so empty, because she couldn't feel him anymore. She didn't know if he was watching. She didn't know if she really was safe.

And now she was, in Los Angeles, peering into the window of his bedroom in the basement of the Hyperion Hotel. She was surprised he had even opted for a room with a window, but the bed was against the opposite wall and the window was so small and so low to the ground that she knew the sun couldn't even come close to touching him. And he slept mostly during the night, anyway. That had always been the most endearing thing about him; he slept at night. And while he slept late (oh BOY did he sleep late), he still clung to that humanity in him that screamed "SUN DOWN. SLEEP NOW."

He was irresistible. Hell, he was STILL irresistible.

And that was why she was there watching him. He had told her, when he called her to the cliffs between Sunnydale and Los Angeles to see her after she had come back, about the past year. About Darla, and almost losing his soul, and Pylea. About Wolfram and Hart, about all his struggles. It had torn at her heart to know that he was in so much danger; that he had almost been taken away from her all over again. It was after that conversation, that she had taken up stalking him in L.A. Well, it wasn't stalking... it was watching his back. Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

Her attention was pulled away from her memories as he shifted in bed and grunted slightly. His face contorted and she knew he was dreaming. A soft smile passed over her features, and her eyes softened as she watched him. It was a beautiful sight.

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you"
Birds singing in the sycamore tree
Dream a little dream of me...

He was like a marble statue, bathed in moonlight and starshine; a perfect creature for all to behold. She had spent so many nights watching him sleep. He had never known, or if he did, he never told her he knew. She was sure he MUST have felt her eyes roving his form as his face and body moved with his dreams, words in languages she didn't know passing from his lips every so often as well. She never moved from his form, her head always pillowed against his chest and the covers pulled tight around them both as she watched his rest. Giles had told her once that sleep, for vampires, was like watching the dead. He couldn't have been more wrong. She never saw Angel more alive than in his dreams.

They had their pre-nap rituals. They always walked back to his house - whether the apartment, or later the mansion - and straight into the shower. After they were clean, she would change in the bathroom while Angel changed in his room. And every time the bed would already be turned down and two steaming cups of hot cocoa would be beside the night table when she emerged. He always drank the cocoa too, even though he couldn't really taste it. The would drink it together, talking about the day, curled in each others arms, until she began to nod off. Then he would lean over and kiss her softly before scooting them both down into a laying position and turning off the light in a feat that was usually impressivley gymnastic. They would sleep for hours - the only true peace Buffy ever knew - and then she would have to leave. Sometimes to go back home, sometimes to go to school if the entire night had passed. And as much as she knew he LOATHED to wake up, he would still climb out of bed, walk her to the door, and kiss her sweetly before she left. The kiss held promises of a night to come; a night filled with sweet words and sweet cocoa and sweet kisses all over again. Heaven.

Say "nighty-night" and kiss me
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me
While I'm alone and blue as can be
Dream a little dream of me...

The days were the worst. Always so far away from him, and it's not like he could surprise her at school or anything. So she forced her way through the day, complaining about tests and boys and girls and dances and rumors with her friends, and then later about slaying as well. But, secretly, she spent all day waiting for night, when she would be released to patrol. Then, in a random cemetary, she would feel the tingling and then he would be there; not a dream, not a daydream, just Angel there with her again. Her other half.

Stars fading but I linger on dear
Still craving your kiss
I'm longing to linger 'till dawn dear
Just saying this

He shifted in his sleep again, this time turning towards her, and she nearly drooled at the full sight of him. His face was peaceful and happy in a way she never saw when he woke. He smiled, mumbled something that sounded vaguely Gaelic, and then kissed the air. She couldn't hold back the chukle as his face scrunched when he realized there was nothing there, and he stirred again. She became rigid at that movement; he was waking up. With one more longing glance, she quickly stole from the window.

Angel felt her leave and opened his eyes, smiling easily in the darkness. His Buffy, she had a lot to learn about him, and about the nature of their bond. He had felt her at his window every night for the past two weeks, but still allowed her to believe that he was completely unaware. He had perfected the art of pretending to sleep years before, when he had first realized she was watching him sleep at night. Back then it had been because he didn't want to wake and drive her out of his arms; the end of their post-patrol naps often meant the end of their nights together. Now, he continued with the charade because that was the only way to keep her close to him. Rekindling their relationship was not an option yet, no matter how much he wanted to. So he contented himself with knowing that she still cared to keep him safe.. that she still loved him.

Rising from his bed, he walked to the window where his love had recently sat and placed his hand upon the open sill. Her scent clung to the concrete and glass, and he inhaled deeply to draw it into himself. His eyes spied her form hiding in a bush nearby and he smiled again, his teeth glinting white in the moonlight. The melody of an old song drifted through his head as he watched her slowly walk away from the Hyperion Hotel and into the night, his eyes trained on her form until even his vampiric sight couldn't locate her anymore.

Sweet dreams 'till sun beams find you
Sweet dreams that leave our worries behind you
But in your dreams, whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me...

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