DISCLAIMER: If Joss wasn't so evil, ... ah never mind *smirck*
TIMELINE: After "Reunion" and "Into the Woods". It's Christmas in LA, and after firing the bat pack, our Angel is all alone.
SPOILERS: Nothing really obvious, but if you havn't seen the past few Angel episodes, this won't make as much sense, in regards to the tone.
SYNOPSIS: Christmas Eve; Angel gets a visit from Buffy ...
DISTRIBUTION: Anyone who already has any of my stuff. If you want it, just ask. I can garuntee a "yes." Also, it'll soon be up at my soon-to-be-launched domain name, yum.nu *smiles happily*.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ladies and Gents, it's my first standalone outside of the "Dream" series! I was talking to some people about the events since Amends, while my parents put the tree up and watched "Little Woman" in the background :-) Don't laugh, the background music to that movie is incredibly inspiring, and this poigant little story came out of it.
FEEDBACK: Please? Please? Did I mention please? Free picture's of Angel in the shower for those who do (*snickers*.) Just don't yell at me, and all will be good.
RATING: Erm ... PG?
DEDICATION: A Merry Christmas to anyone who has ever supported my writing. All the babblers, Messina (because you are too amazing for words), and Lissa, who's most recent e-mail about my writing has inspired me to maybe, possibly become a writer some time in the future. You all rock more than words.

....................

"Here we are as in olden days ...
happy golden days of yours.
Faithful friends who are dear to us,
gather near to us once more.

Through the years we all will be togeher,
if the fates allow ... "

~ "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"

....................

Random embers of the fire began to haze up into the soot of the fireplace's meager bearings. Angel let his limbs lie straight, the hem of his shirt rubbing idly onto the smooth skin licking against his upper chest. He could feel his fingers tap constrictively against the chair, pulsing a thousand different thoughts out of his body and into the air. It felt strangely comforting ... a slow warmth slapping his stance repetitively.

Repetition was such an overlooked pleasure.

To have the same feeling swell up into ones lungs, beating one after another. To just *know*, without a doubt, that the next plunge would come soon after.

Living in a hotel definitely had its advantages. Angel had been sitting alone in his room the previous hour, unable to pick an emotion out of the melting pot known as his brain. His color scheme cast its own shadows into the theme of the place, letting reds and browns drip curiously into one another.

The lobby had been too depressing of a spot to occupy.

There was such a familiar vibe there. So many memories. So much ... acceptance of his own personality.

And now? Nothing. He didn't really know what he was. Good? Evil? Did it even matter?

"Have any good broods lately?"

Angel had a reaction beyond the capacity of emotions. It was odd ... the ambiguous sense of self was placed with a quick and clear cut shock, "Buffy?"

"Merry Christmas," her voice was so low, almost sullen. The phrase was obviously meant in a rather sarcastic means of sorts. "Thought I'd spread some holiday cheer."

She gave a half-hearted smile, letting it flow back into a scowl in mere seconds. Her entire posture reaked with uncomfortable emotions. Fingers rubbing up against one another subconsciously, arms swaying in a gentle disturbance. Standing so suddenly in his bedroom with absolutely no motive behind it.

"Thank you," Angel was able to place his past disturbances behind for a moment, watching her stand there ... so close. So small and melancholy. He felt a heated sense of adoration smooth over the atmosphere towards his shoulders, calculating just how many steps away she stood from him ...

"Giles told me that you were here," she spoke reservedly, trying desperately to hide the growing warmth that began to tingle throughout her limbs at the site of him. So large, protective. As corny as it sounded, she would have settled for one touch. For one finger weasling its way up to the tight skin around his jaw. One stroke. Contact.

"Just when I thought the whole drama gig was over, you buy a hotel."

Angel couldn't help but chuckle, moving random manuscripts away from his armchair, beckoning for her to sit, "Yeah," he answered without thinking, trying to remember if she had even spoken at all.

She smiled, "No, I'm fine," before subsequently sitting. He had to grin at that.

It took a moment of poignant silence for him to move to the bed, sitting half off the side of it, "Is everything okay?"

His voice was so thick, so enveloping. It cut into the silence like the definition of "relief" taking human form. This was exactly what she needed.

"I'm fine. Spending Christmas with Mom this year, so I thought I should at least show appearance for a day." she caught herself, hesitantly smoothing her hands against her jeans, "To see my dad, of course."

"Of course."

It blindsided him every time. It's amazing ... you think you can find the courage to live without the being that owns your soul.

Then you sit in the same room as her.

"I just ... I don't know." She took in a deep breath, "I thought maybe I'd say hi."

Angel let the center of his pupils latch onto her eyes, desperate to convey the emotional desperation he felt towards her. The supernatural forces which had latched onto his heart, his entire being ... only to plague him whether he liked it or not.

He wanted her more then life itself. He wanted her to hold onto him, curl up against his lap. To hold one of her precious little hands up to his face, whispering a small layer of comfort. To fall asleep on his chest, each delicate breath beating into his body like the prior licks of fire.

"I love you so much," he closed his eyes, basking in the reverie of his own dream. He could hear her voice, right down to it's pitch, a miraculous conception of mystery and the deepest human emotions wrapped up into one package.

But he was alone. Sitting on that chair, letting the embers try miserably to imitate Buffy's touch.

And the words continued to echo in his head: "I thought maybe I'd say hi."

So beautiful. She was so vibrant there, up heavenly in his daydream.

He sat up for a moment, pressing the palm of his hand against the fireplace, "I love you, Buffy." His eyes were locked shut, a sort of prayer leaking out of his lips.

Because although she wasn't there ... although she hadn't come to see him, something churning deep inside his chest knew that their former relationship beamed out of the past and into their present lives. And somewhere, in some form ... Buffy had come to wish him a Merry Christmas.

He sat alone throughout the night, watching the fire burn until dawn.

merry christmas ... may the ones you love give you that big ol' hug you need.

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