DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Everyone knows the rest:-)
TIMELINE: After "To Shanshu in LA"
SPOILERS: There's some mention of something that was foretold in "To Shanshu in LA" ::cryptic smile::
SYNOPSIS: Feeling depression regarding his present relationship with Pod Buffy, Angel dreams into the mind of our beloved season two Slayer.
DISTRIBUTION: If you want it, I'm truely honored:-) Just tell me where it's going so I can take a look.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I've written *loads* of B/A fic through the years...but this is the first one I've put on the net. Needless to say, I'm a tad nervous about it. I wrote this when coming to a realization: I love AtS S1 Angel and BtVS S2 Buffy...what would happen if they came together?
FEEDBACK: For the love of Joss...even if I have to pay you for it! Sending me feedback will give me a bigger smile then you could ever imagine...so please, *please* take a few moments out of your day to tell me what you thought.
RATING: PG. Might even be G, but better safe then sorry *grin*

What is it about dreams? I often wondered if my dreams were equivalent to the nocturnal journies of mortals; if they all felt that thin haze of an exuding clarity to their eyes, that taste of cinnamon and sugar thwarting the buds against their tongue, active or not. That smooth sensation in one's stomach...of freely falling into nothing but pure senseless emotion.

There was a period in my life in which dreams meant everything to me. They were my redemption. They were my feeble attempt at whatever inklings of solace I could muster. As each day did its own unique passage, I relied on these vessels for differing purposes. When I first came to New York, I dreamt of my younger sister, knitting at the hearth of our fireplace. Her nose had the slightest bit of soot against it's texture, and her tiny fingers were red from their strain. I would smile down upon her, and she would return to me a look of the most divine and utter peace. When I met Buffy, the beloved vessel of every drop of love in my heart and soul,...the dreams changed to her possession. I was making her smile. Whether it be by making love, kissing her tears, giving her children. It was all to see that unexplainable entity that graces her face when she's content...like a kitten bathing in the moonlight, a duchess sommersaulting endlessly in freshly cut grass. Sometimes I felt that she didn't believe that she deserved it...and my grave presence did anything but help the situation.

It's been a month since I last saw her. Her life essence haunts me gladly...an aura that hums seductively against my earlobe, my legs, and my heart. Her conscience carries itself within me. She tells me when to offer redemption to a torrid soul. She speaks encouragement to me when feeling frustrated at the machinations of Wolfram and Hart. She hugs me, a warm and simple embrace, when I weep for the loss of an old friend. She is my life companion, wherever she may be. Her body, however, is with a smug boy in Sunnydale. She gives herself to him freely, allowing the thing to experience the ectasy that is her smile. Her happiness. She doesn't embrace me when I cry to her anymore, when I tell her how much her presence destroys me. It's nothing but anger. And change.

But she is not entirely lost to me. I see her in my dreams. I travel to a time when her words of eternal love bursted in her heart as the most sacred joy. Her sixteenth year on this earth.

I creep into her old bedroom, slipping silently through the window like a love-struck teenager. Just like I used to. She can't hear my movements, of course. She is sleeping in the shape of a goddess...my own exuberant royalty. Her breath stirs in a delicate symphony, her precious mouth opened in the slightest most gentlest manner. She cuddles innocently against her blanket, nudging against its sheer surface.

I miss this.

"Angel" her voice earns me my redemption by speaking such a name to address me. My stomach does flip-flops...and once again I feel like a stuttering child. Angel. She wants me.

"Buffy", I reach an index finger to caress her cheek, eliciting a small little peep from her blessed throat.

"What are you doing here?" her voice is groggy and adorable as she struggles to awaken into the night."Not that I mind or anything..."

"I had to see you. One last time."

"What are you talking about?" I had forgotten that she ever spoke so gently to me. That she ever became crushed at the sound of my own personal despair. God, did I miss this.

She sits up slowly, delicately placing her warm hand against mine, entwining our fingers into a whole being.

"I don't have time to explain"

"Angel..."

"Shhh," my voice cracks, as I tentatively touch her soft lips. So inviting, so sensitive. How did I ever leave this?

"Tell me what I can do to help," she pleads, her eyes stinging with horrified tears.

"Wait."

"What?"

"Wait...for me. Don't give your heart to him, not yet. Please, Buffy."

"I don't.." her brow scrunches in confusion, her entire body on alert, "Who? Angel, you know I'm never gonna...I'm never gonna be with anyone else. I love you."

"No, please" I can contain myself no longer. I break down, desperately grabbing her glorious body and crushing it against me, "Don't say that. Not now." I whisper into her ear, "Just promise me that you won't forget what this is like."

"I'll never forget," she whispers back, squeezing me like I might slip from her arms, "I'll never feel this way again. I'm alive, Angel."

I tentatively pull away, grabbing both of her hands, and stroking them in a comforting rhythm, "Things are going to look bad for us in the future. But I'm going to be human. I'm going to come back to you, so we can love each other like this again. I promise."

"Melodramatic much?" she quips in good nature, squeezing my hand with the sunshine she emanates, "You don't have to be human for us to be together."

"Just trust me. Please...I'm begging you."

"You don't have to beg..." she grins slyly, leaning in for a small kiss.

I pull away with all my restraint, looking her squarely in the soul, "No. The next time I kiss you...I'm going to be alive."

I move towards the window...move towards the cold darkness, just like I used to.

"When will I see you again." I hear her small voice inquire, a weep escaping quietly. My heart shatters, teared into a thousand pieces of glass and burned in the fires of my own private hell. The hell that is her sorrow.

"I don't know. Just wait for me. Please."

"I promise." she whispers resolutely, "I...I can't imagine my life without you."

Each statement is its own separate stake into my heart. I know that she is making some promises on the whim.

Promises that will not be kept.

"Goodbye Buffy" I whisper solemnly, "I....I love you."

"I love you, too," I hear her voice reply, as the world around me glitters into a thousand blinding colors.

I'm awake.

Sometimes I wonder why I insist on torturing myself. I make a resolute promise upon awakening. I'm just being selfish. She's happy. She has a normal life. She doesn't need me. Not anymore.

Never again will I visit into the time when she used to love me in such a manner. Never again will I sneak into our old life through my dreams, stealing soft kisses and warm glances in the gentle moonlight. The dream will be forgotten as a foolish mistake.

Yet I still have the same dream every night.

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