RATING: R?
DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything, or else you would see this in a few months as the revised season finale.
SPOILERS: "The Gift", "Over The Rainbow"
AN: Alright. So, I'm sitting in my recliner, thinking about all the season finale fics floating around the lists, and I think, "Gee, I want to do one too." Then I think, "But it has to be different. How can I write a good fic that's different and good?" This is my attempt at a different and good season finale fic. Also, I'm backing up the events of AtS so that it all works out. Everything else is the same. Except I've taken some liberties with the dialogue, and Dawn knows Angel, but Angel doesn't know Dawn. Also, I have no idea how long Dawn has been here, I just guessed. Everything else is the same.
FEEDBACK: Yes, please. (crystal, I'm counting on you!! J/K)
DEDICATION: This is to Joss for the wonderful Buffy finale, and to my recliner, for giving me a comfortable place to think, and to my fellow club members at "Buffy and Friends". Your speculation is fuel for my fire.
Asterisks contain thoughts.

PYLEA

Angel was hunched in a corner of Fred's cave, staring at himself in a puddle. *I'm not a monster, I'm not a monster, I'm not a monster* was his silent mantra. Every once in a while, he would shoot furtive glances at Fred, wondering. *Is she afraid? She said she wasn't, but she must have been lying. What else could she say? `Yes, Angel, I'm terrified of the evil filthy animal that you are'?* His shook his head, trying to clear his paranoia. Fred was his friend. *My friends. Gunn. What do they think? Will they leave this dimension without me? `We don't need Angel. He's an evil monster that will endanger us all.'* He shook his head harder, reached out and scooped up some water, and threw it on himself. His sudden gasp startled Fred, who was busy making "oatmeal" out of plant roots and berries.

"Ya feelin any better?" she asked in a friendly tone. He could only look at the puddle in shame. He hated it here. He wanted to go home, where the demon wasn't so terrible. At home, he had control over it. He felt like dirt. He lifted his gaze, taking in the writing on the walls. He knew them.

"I -" his voice cracked. "I recognize those words." She seemed confused, then understanding dawned. "Oh, those aren't words. They're consonant representations of a mathematical blah blah mumble mumble.." That wasn't what she really said, of course, but that's what Angel heard. He remembered the "consonant representations" from the book. The book that made the portal. The portal could take him home. "I've been trying to make portals for years, but it's never worked." Hope was shattered with a 5 ton wrecking ball. He resumed his silent mantra, staring at the walls.

*Maybe she is, but she doesn't know where* Hope sprang again. It was worth a try, at least. Anything to get out of here, where he was more monster than man. He began reading the words of the walls, his voice barely above a whisper. "Krvp stphtyn mwqrdcsm prtnyw."

Nothing yet. He spoke the smallest bit louder. "Typr yptn mhjkm wrtqh." Still nothing. *Idiot.* Fred turned, carrying a bowl of "oatmeal".

" Hungr- AAAAAA!" The portal had opened smack in between Fred and Angel. *She won't see me. Run, Angel, go home.*

Disregarding the notion that he might end up nowhere near home, he leapt through the portal, towards hope.

LOS ANGELES

The next thing Angel knew, he was thrown clear of the bar in Caritas, smashing into various bottles of alcohol. The portal swirled and rumbled for about two seconds, then disappeared. He was alone. He quickly scrambled towards a shard of broken mirror, then realized it wouldn't do any good. He sat down on the floor of the karaoke bar, and vamped in and out for a good five minutes.

*Control. What a beautiful thing. No ugly green demon, either.*

But he knew that was a lie. It was there, inside. He just couldn't see it. He felt like he shouldn't be alive. Clenching his teeth, he wished for an apocalypse to come, so he could prevent it from happening and be worthy again. Worthy of living. Little did he know he would get his wish. So great was the anguish, the shame, the guilt in his soul, that his wish was granted. But the apocalypse didn't come to him. His eyes still closed, he heard the popping noise as he vanished into thin air.

SUNNYDALE

The battle was in full swing when Angel arrived. He was at the top of a tower, it seemed, or maybe it was just a very huge piece of scaffolding without a building to attach to. He looked around, glancing down. He could see a small group huddled behind a large pile of rubble. There was a large cluster of ordinary people lying, dazed, on the ground. There was a curly-haired blonde lying on the cement floor so far below him. She was being attacked by another girl, also blonde, pounding on her with a huge hammer. All of a sudden the curly-haired girl morphed into a boy, the hammer was set down, and the other blonde turned. It was Buffy. He was in Sunnydale, smack in the middle of another apocalypse. His wish had been granted.

Buffy was looking at something behind him. He turned to look and saw a scene that was odd, to say the least. A battered Spike was standing in front of a young brunette, maybe 15 years old. She was tied to two poles at the end of the walkway. Spike was breathing heavily, and there was a tiny gray-haired man talking to Spike. He was holding a knife.

"That's strange. I can't sense a soul anywhere. Why do you even care?" the man said. Spike glared menacingly.

"I made a promise to a lady," he said through gritted teeth. Angel saw the man tilt his head.

"Well, I'll send her your regards." The little old man's tongue suddenly shot out of his mouth, causing Spike to stumble. The man was behind him in a flash, stabbing him in the back. He waited a moment before throwing Spike off the edge of the tower, and in that second, Spike saw Angel. Angel also remembered why he had wished for an apocalypse. To stop it, to feel worthy. Well, this looked like his cue to start stopping.

The man hadn't seen him, and was advancing on the girl.

Angel stealthily and swiftly crept up behind him. He was about to stab the girl, saying, "Shallow cuts, shallow cuts." Angel reached out a hand and grabbed the man's wrist.

"How about none at all?" He knocked the knife out of his hand, picked him up by his collar, and held him out over the edge of the walkway. "Care to explain why you're cutting a little girl?"

The man gave an eerie smile. "I am serving my god, the great Glorificus, who cannot be stopped-"

"You sure?" the girl spoke up. She was gazing downwards at the dark-haired man lying in Glory's place, and Giles was suffocating him. The man's eyes widened in shock.

"No, it's not possible-"

"I think you should go now. Before you get hurt," Angel cut him off, and promptly let go of his collar. He turned back to the girl, who was smiling. He untied her ropes, and was grabbed in fierce hug.

"Angel, I'm so glad to see you." Angel frowned, looking at the top of the girl's head.

"How do you know my name?" The girl looked a little taken aback.

"Angel, I've known you for three years." Angel pulled out of the hug, holding the girl by her arms.

"Who are you?" Now the girl was plainly worried.

"Angel, it's me, Dawn." No recognition showed on Angel's face. "Buffy's little sister!" His grip on her arms tightened considerably. "Ow, Angel!" His voice was low when he spoke.

"Buffy doesn't have a little sister." The girl looked as if she might cry, but her face brightened a moment later.

"Buffy!!" she yelled. Angel looked down, still maintaining his vise-like grip on the girl. Buffy needed to know about this-

"Dawn! Dawn, I'm coming!" Buffy was yelling now. What?? Angel's mind refused to accept it. He would know if Buffy had a little sister, and she didn't. She didn't. But wait, no time to sort it out up here, Buffy was coming. He had to go. He couldn't talk to her now. He turned to look at the girl again, and began slowly walking backwards to the edge of the platform.

"Angel? What are you-" Dawn was saying. But he had reached the edge. He turned, and jumped. He hit the ground, groaning, but got up and ran as fast as he could, away from them. Buffy reached Dawn minutes later. She embraced her sister.

"Oh, god, Dawn! I saw Spike fall, and I freaked out, I- wait a minute, who untied you?" Buffy noticed the fact that her sister was a good five feet away from the ropes that had bound her. Dawn urgently pointed to the ground far below.

"Angel! He was here, he threw Doc off the tower, and he untied me, but he didn't know who I was! He heard you coming, and he jumped, and-" Buffy blinked rapidly, waving her hands in a `stop' gesture.

"Woah, whoa, Angel? What are you talking about?"

"He was here! I think he might be in trouble, you have to find him."

Buffy stared at her sister like she was crazy. "Dawn, Angel is not here."

Dawn shook her head earnestly.

"No, he was, he saved me-"

"Dawn."

"He stopped Doc from starting the ritual, he saved me-"

"Dawn-"

"He jumped, Buffy, what if he's in trouble-"

"DAWN!" Buffy yelled. Dawn jumped. "Angel is not here, ok?"

Buffy's eyes had a strange look in them.

"But-"

"There is no reason for him to have been here! He didn't know you were a key, he didn't know about Glory, he didn't know, Dawn! He wasn't here!" Buffy was practically screaming at Dawn. "Let's go!" She turned and ran down the stairs, Dawn hurrying after her. When they reached the bottom, Spike was approaching them, limping.

"Spike! He saw him! Didn't you, Spike?" Dawn ran towards him. Spike saw the look in Buffy's eyes, and feigned ignorance.

"Saw who?" he asked. Dawn pleaded with him.

"Angel! I know you saw him, you looked right at him!" Spike still remained silent. Dawn stared at the ground, then quickly snatched something up. It was a long, ragged piece of leather, ripped from an article of clothing. Dawn innocently offered it to Spike, saying, "Here, Spike, you must've ripped your coat." Spike frantically spun in circles, grabbing at his coat hem.

"What, where? No, I didn't. That must be from Ang-" He caught himself too late. Dawn was smiling triumphantly, offering the piece of leather to Buffy.

"See? I told you he was here." Buffy took the leather from Dawn, staring at it in defeat. Here was solid proof of something she didn't want to admit. She shook her head, growling in frustration, and stalked away.

***********************

Angel was roaming the streets, his thoughts jumbling together in his mind. As he sat down on a deserted street corner, he reflected on the unbelievably terrible few days he was having. First, he was confronted with his true demon, lost control and nearly killed his friends, abandoned Fred, and now this.

Ever since Joyce's funeral, ever since that last kiss, he hadn't been so afraid of coming back to Sunnydale. He thought he knew how Buffy felt. He thought they still loved each other. But then, he ended up here tonight and discovered her so-called "little sister" and everything was different. He knew he shouldn't have to know about everything that went on in her town, he knew that. But, she all of a sudden gets a little sister after being an only child for 19 years, and she didn't even think of mentioning it to him? He looked down at the street, noticing the huge rip in the hem of his leather duster. *Wonderful* he thought. *On top of everything else.*

**********************

Giles saw Buffy across the wreckage. She was walking slowly, clutching something in her hand. She didn't seem to notice anything in front of or around her.

"Fire bad, tree pretty?" he asked. She took a sharp intake of breath in surprise, but didn't answer his question. She seemed aggravated. "What's wrong?" She held up a long scrap of tattered leather.

"Angel's in town." Giles stopped walking. Angel? He couldn't. He knew nothing of the battle, Glory, any of it. He watched Buffy as she continued walking.

"Where are you going?" he called after her. There was no answer.

**********************

"So," Angel said, "where's she been hiding all these years?" His voice was tinged with bitterness. Buffy emerged from the shadows of the alleyway, still carrying the leather. She didn't bother answering his question, just came to stand beside his seated form. "What is she?" His voice was less bitter now, but laced with apparent anger.

"She's my little sister," Buffy said softly. Angel turned to look at her. There was a hardness in his eyes.

"What is she?" His voice was dangerously firm. Buffy didn't want to look at him. *Why?* she asked herself. *He was the one that appeared out of thin air and then ran away. He should be explaining.*

But for some reason, she found herself explaining. "She's a key used to open the gates between dimensions. She was created by some monks. She was put in human form, built from my memories. They planted memories in all of us so we would think she'd always been there. Then, this hellbitch came to town and wanted to use Dawn to get back home. She'd been thrown out for trying to overthrow her fellow hell gods. Her name was Glory. Anyway, I found out Dawn wasn't really my sister, Dawn found out she wasn't real, and then Glory kidnapped her. But, the apocalypse was prevented, and now, she's just my sister." She watched Angel for a reaction of any kind, a sign of how he was dealing with this info, but he remained in the same position: elbows resting on knees, chin resting on clasped hands.

"How long has she been here?"

"8 months, give or take."

"Why don't I remember her?" His voice quieted at this question, and Buffy sensed that the answer would hold great influence over whatever he was working out in his head.

"You weren't here when they made her." Angel turned to look at her again.

"You know that's not why. Who were you with when they made her?" He was watching her face, studying it. "Who did you love?"

Buffy heard the warning bells going off in her head. "Angel, I didn't love him."

"You must have. You were obviously thinking about him so much, that all thoughts of me were wiped from your mind." He rose to a standing position.

"Angel, that is not true. I was trying to make it work with Riley, for you. I was trying to do what you wanted." Angel seemed to accept this, turning to gaze down the street.

"Why didn't you at least tell me about it?"

"Why are you asking me all these questions?"

"I'm making a point. Now, why didn't you tell me?" Buffy stared at the back of Angel's head. Why was he doing this? Why was he accusing her of keeping secrets?

"You know, Angel, I've kind of had a rough year. My little sister isn't real, my mom died, my second boyfriend left just like the first, Giles almost got deported, and I've had an apocalypse to worry about. I'm sorry I didn't keep you updated on every little thing-"

"This isn't little, Buffy!," Angel cut in, angrily. "After 19 years, you suddenly get a sister out of the blue. I understand that you didn't know she wasn't yours, but you found out. You didn't think it would be nice to tell me, `Hey, Angel, just in case you're ever in town, I have a sister named Dawn who knows all about you, so don't get freaked'?" Buffy narrowed her eyes.

"No, I didn't. Why are you doing this, Angel?"

"What about when I came to see you the night of the funeral? Did you forget about Dawn then, too?"

"Angel, I forgot about everything the second you took my hand."

This seemed to give him pause. He ran a hand through his dark hair before continuing. "Buffy, that night, when we kissed in the cemetery, do you know what I felt?"

*Passion, fire, love, desire, hope* all ran through Buffy's head, but she said none of them.

"I felt relief."

Buffy felt her face twist into a puzzled expression.

"I could feel love in that kiss, Buffy. I knew our love was still there. And I thought that meant I could come back more often; I thought the pain would lessen." He turned his head skyward. " I was wrong. When I came here tonight, I didn't have a clue what was going on. I didn't know why Spike was helping you, I didn't know who Dawn was, and I didn't know who you were beating with a hammer. I realized that I barely know anything of what's happened to you this year."

Buffy's frown remained, and she nervously toyed with the leather strip. Where was this going?

"So?" was her tentative, quiet reply.

"It hurts, Buffy. I don't know you, and it hurts. The pain is still there. I can't do this anymore, I won't."

Fear gripped Buffy's heart. It screamed at her to move, to do something to prevent him from going on. "I'm not part of your life anymore, Buffy. If I try to pretend I am, I just get hurt. I won't hurt myself anymore." Buffy could feel her voice fighting to escape her mouth. *Don't let him say it, don't let him say it* she thought frantically. "I can't come back to Sunnydale anymore." He turned and stared deep into her hazel eyes. She waited. And waited. And waited for the words that would kill her soul. They never came from Angel's lips. To her agony and despair, they came from her own.

"So, is this is? Is this goodbye?" Her eyes grew huge. *Don't answer me, I'm stupid, don't answer me!*

"Yeah." Angel felt a prickling on his neck. The sun would be up soon. Buffy was still as a statue; she looked as if she was in a coma. He slowly backed away down the street, towards the only place he had time to flee to this close to sunrise. Buffy watched him go.

*******************

She didn't move until the sun hit her eyes, causing to shield her face. She felt something in her hand; the leather she still carried. Angel had said goodbye. They had managed to put it off for two whole years, and now she was giving up, accepting it without a fight. She felt like she had been hit with the wrecking ball back at the tower, and her body was still recovering. She tried to cut off her heart's connection to her brain. She didn't want to think about Angel never coming back. She had questions to ask him that would never be answered, because Angel was never coming back. He was gone, and he was nev- wait, he wasn't gone, he was still in town. He couldn't have left Sunnydale, it had been too close to sunrise when he walked away. She went through everywhere Angel could go, and figured out which was closest. Time to take a trip down memory lane. She wondered if the old apartment had changed at all..

******************

It was the last place he wanted to be. Stuck in Sunnydale, in the one place that brought back the worst memories. It looked the same as the last time he saw it. He went through the familiar motions of flinging his duster over a chair, searching the fridge for a bag of blood (with negative results, of course), and settling down on the bed for a nap. He had nothing else to do, and he was going to be stuck in the apartment all day long. Sleep would be a welcome relief from the past few days. He closed his eyes.

*Knock, knock.*

There was a gentle but firm tapping on the door. Angel knew that few people knew where the apartment was, and it was rarely visited. He grumpily crossed the room, intending to scare his early morning guest with a good bellowing. The door was wrenched open and-

"Buffy." She had seemingly recovered from her robotic state, and was standing in the doorway, looking up at him with clear hazel eyes. "Come in." He grudgingly moved aside, crossing back to the bed. She closed the door. Turning to face him, she offered the torn leather.

"I'm guessing this belongs to you." He reached out and took the strip, avoiding eye contact.

"Thanks." Buffy observed his actions for a moment. They were accepting, unemotional.

"Am I hurting you right now?" Her tone was frank and to the point. He knew exactly what she meant. The answer was yes, it had been ever since graduation, and until he had shanshu and there were no more obstacles between them, it always would be. She knew that.

"No." Her eyes were piercing.

"Liar." She walked to the windows of the apartment, pulling up all the shades and flooding the room with sunlight. Angel's memory told him the sunlight wouldn't hit him, so he didn't flinch. But he knew it was impossible to leave the apartment, let alone the bed. He was trapped.

"What are you doing?" he asked warily. She pulled a chair in front of him and sat down.

"Making sure you don't run away before I'm done." Buffy crossed her legs and place her hands calmly in her lap. "Now, last time we talked, in all the confusion of getting blamed for doing what you wanted in the first place, I forgot to ask you something." She tilted her head. "What were you doing at the top of Glory's Tower O' Terror?" Her steely gaze didn't waver an inch. She didn't sound upset, and she wasn't trying to confront him. If there had been any random bystanders in the room (which would have been an awkward situation in itself), they would've looked like two people having a friendly conversation. Angel guessed that was Buffy's goal. Get her answers and leave. Make it easier for both of them.

"You're aren't the only one with a terrible life right now, Buffy." Buffy's left eyebrow shot up.

"Hm?"

"Let me tell you a little about my life this year. Wolfram and Hart brought Darla back. Resurrected her. I spent a lot of time trying to help her, adjusting to a soul, being human. But then, Drusilla was brought in to change Darla back. I spent the better part of the year trying to kill them both. I fired Wes and Cordy and Gunn. I set Darla and Drusilla on fire, which they survived by the way. I discovered that Wolfram and Hart were trying to drive my crazy so I would be on their side when the apocalypse comes. I tried to go to Hell just so I could take them down. I got sucked into darkness, Buffy, and I couldn't get out. And when I reached the bottom, do you know what I did? I had an epiphany. Do you know how?" Buffy's face remained completely composed as she nodded, just as it had been the whole time. But Angel hadn't dropped the bomb yet. "I slept with Darla." He watched her face carefully, waiting.

She appeared to be thinking, running through her own thoughts until she found the one she wanted. Her eyes met his.

"Did you lose your soul?" Angel hadn't expected that. That was a lie; he had, just not yet. Where were the accusation of keeping her in the dark, the tears, the anger? When it looked as if that was all she was going to say, he continued.

"No. I wasn't happy, I was desperate. Desperate for it to end. But, I got back. I started to work for the agency, instead of running it. I thought things were ok again. But then, Cordelia got sucked into another dimension, called Pylea. We went after her, and it seemed even better there then here. I had a reflection, and, uh, I could walk in the sunlight." *Wish you coulda been there.*

That got a reaction. Angel heard Buffy's sharp breath, saw her eyebrows lift ever so slightly. He saw her mouth open to speak, but there was silence. Angel knew the feeling; wanting to speak, but suddenly finding yourself with an extremely diminished vocabulary. Angel continued his story. "I was having a blast, but then I got in a fight. I changed, but, well, it's a little different over there."

"How?" No emotion in her voice except pure curiosity. It was interesting to have a conversation with Buffy where her voice wasn't shaky or angst-ridden. It was like old times.

"In Pylea, the demon emerged in its purest form. I saw what my monster really looks like. And I attacked Gunn." He could see concern leaking through Buffy's calm mask. She gently touched his knee. He forced himself to push it back. *The comfort will only lead to pain.* "I opened a portal back to L.A. somehow. I ended up ruining a bar that one of my friends owns. I couldn't feel anything but shame and guilt. I felt like a didn't deserve to be alive. I had to do something, I felt like ending it." His voice had grown quiet. "I needed to believe there was something in my life worth living for. I made a wish."

"You wished for an apocalypse?" There was no sarcasm in her voice. Disbelief, but that was all. He nodded.

"Yeah. Buffy, I felt like I was evil, I was the monster. I had to prove to myself that I do good in this world, and that there's good things in my life. I was going crazy. I wished for the chance to be a hero. Next thing I know, I'm in Sunnydale, saving this girl who says she known me for three years, except I've never met her before." He waited. Buffy could only hold it in so long. Any minute now. He waited some more. "Are you gonna say anything?"

"Like what?"

"Aren't you gonna yell and cry at me for keeping secrets from you?" There it was again. The left eyebrow, arched to the ceiling.

"That's what you thought I'd do, huh?"

"Yes."

"Sorry I don't live up to your expectations," she said wryly. "Alright, Angel, I've got a theory I wanna run past you. Just sit, listen. I might get a little long-winded." She cracked her knuckles and leaned back in her chair. She continued, her voice less business-like, but just as firm. "I have a dream. It's in the future, not sure when. Anyway, it's a bright day out, and I'm standing on the beach. There's a crowd, but I'm not paying them any attention. Because there's a man walking toward me. It's the man I love. You, Angel. Walking with me in the sunlight. Then you kiss me, and we hop into your convertible, and with the top down and the wind in our hair, we drive off into the sunlight, happy. Together for the rest of our lives." She paused, gazing at the sunlight streaming through the windows.

"Now, I'm gonna tell you a story. Once upon a time," she leaned forward as if sharing a secret, "there was a boy and a girl. They were in love. They were happy. But one day, the boy decided he had to leave the girl. He wanted her to move on. His reasons sucked, but the girl accepted them. They told each other that one day, they would be back in each other's arm again. One day. That was their future. Each other. This dream allowed them to walk away from each other. But, they didn't say goodbye. They couldn't. One day, the girl met another boy. We'll just call him Joe, as in G.I. The girl remembered what the boy wanted her to do, so she did it. She moved on with Joe, but all the while, she held their future in her heart. She was happy, because now when she met up with the boy again, she could say she had done what he wanted. She had a relationship with Joe, and for a while, the boy got worried. He hadn't really meant what he said when he left. He wanted her to stay true. She, of course, had no way of knowing this. But eventually, Joe left, too. He was weak, whiny, nothing like the boy had been. The girl was heart-broken when Joe left, because she had the let the boy down. Then, her mother died. She needed the boy, and he came back, for one night. They kissed, and they knew. All doubts about the future were gone, and they knew that after two years, love was still there. They would be ok. The boy went home. But then, his life took a turn for the worse. He was depressed about his life and himself, so he wished he could be a hero again. His wish brought him back to the girl's town. The boy found out she had a lot going on in her life that he didn't know about. He got scared. He didn't know her anymore, or so he thought. Their connection was gone, or so he thought. The boy was scared that they might not get the future they wanted so badly. He got scared that he might lose her. So, the boy did something he shouldn't have done. He said goodbye. He made it final. But the girl didn't accept it. She went to talk to the boy the next day, before he could leave town. She told him how she felt. The boy realized there was no reason to be scared, that the girl would always love him. He wasn't scared anymore. He took back the goodbye, and they're still in love today." She reclined in her chair. "That's how my version ends, anyway. Yours might be different." Buffy rose from her chair and kneeled in front of him. "Angel, I know you've been fighting a lot this year. I know you're sick of it. I've been there, too. But this is not the fight to give up on. Because it's a good fight." She lovingly gazed out his chocolate eyes, cloudy now, troubled. "Angel, you want something worth living for? You've got it. You think you've lost it, but it's right here-" she touched his heart. "And here-" she gently place his hand over her heart. "And here." She leaned in, with her eyes closed.

Angel saw a silvery tear slip from her face and felt it land on his cheek as their lips met. It was a soft, sweet, gentle kiss. It broke his already-thin will, and he wrapped his arms around her.

Buffy felt his large, strong hands, one on her back, one holding her head. The kiss remained innocent, so different than the last one in the cemetery had been. That had been full of need, passion, unfulfilled desire. This wasn't like that, Angel realized. This was...love. This was what Buffy wanted him to fight for. He broke off the heavenly kiss, and pulled back. He searched Buffy's face.

"How do you stay so strong?" he asked quietly.

"The future. I know it's gonna happen. One day, we'll be free. Knowing that makes me strong." She was still kneeling in front of him. His claddagh ring glinted and shone as he pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. He stopped, his attention drawn to his hand. He wiggled it, twisted it back and forth, watching the light dancing on the ring. "Angel?" Buffy noticed his wandering eyes. She stared at his face, trying to break into his thoughts.

She fell backwards as Angel suddenly bolted from the apartment. "Angel, it's daytime!" She quickly recovered and ran after him. "Where are you going?" He had reached the exit door at the end of the hallway. He was opening the door. "Angel, no! No! Don't do this!" Buffy's mind raced. *Get to him, get to him* she repeated silently. She was too late. "NO!!" She burst through door as it began closing. She stopped dead in her tracks. Angel was standing on the sidewalk, spinning in circles, giggling and laughing like a toddler playing peek-a-boo. Sunlight shone all around him, and the air was filled with his happiness. It rolled over her in waves, assaulting her, causing her to laugh and smile even as tears ran down her face.

You know how you feel when you're really dizzy? Like the top half of you is floating around and you're just kind of giddy? That was exactly how Buffy felt. She was aware of the steps she was taking towards Angel, then all of sudden, clarity dropped in. Angel was standing in the sunlight. She broke into a run, and was swept up into strong arms. She was spinning, faster and faster, when suddenly she stopped and was being kissed. Her mind froze. All she was aware of was what was happening: Angel-kissage.

And if this was a movie, they'd do one of those shots where they back up the camera and then start spinning around the happy couple, you know? *Sigh* No, I'm not explaining the Angel-in-sunlight thing. There's not gonna be a sequel unless I suddenly find this someday when I'm cleaning out my hard drive, and decide there's potential. Anyway, feedback, please!!!!!

Send feedback to Rianne

Back to the Fanfiction Archive