For disclaimer, see Part 1
Mail:LunarMyth@yahoo.com



It was still early morning when the Scooby gang pulled up outside of Cordelia's apartment. Since it was daylight, they'd opted to visit a human instead of a vampire.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Oz asked as he parked the van.

"Well, it's the address she gave me before she left," Xander said. "Of course, knowing how she feels about me, it's probably Ishmael, the Swedish cook who makes sausages out of human flesh."

Oz looked blankly at him.

"What? Oh don't tell me you've never heard of Ishmael...." he continued to speak as they unloaded themselves.

"What should we do about him?" Aidan queried, mindless of Xander's babbling.

"Oh. Just leave him there. He should be fine until we make sure Cordelia's okay with him being here," Willow told him.

They trekked upstairs and knocked on the door. A minute later they heard a crash followed by an unmistakable shriek.

"Oh it's Cordy alright," Xander muttered.

Cordelia opened the door and looked grumpily out at the group. "What?" she said. "What can be *so* important that you would interrupt my beauty sleep? Don't you know a girl's got to get *at least* eight hours a night? Of course you don't. Why do losers need beauty sleep?" She spoke, of course, only to Xander. "Come in already," she said impatiently as she opened the door wider. As the four walked in she noticed the rest of them. "Hi Oz. Hello Willow." Her gaze slid over Aidan as and she hurriedly combed her hair back with her fingers. "Good morning, salty goodness." She smiled at him.

"That'd be Buffy's salty goodness," Xander intoned.

"Buffy? Where?"

Xander rolled his eyes.

"Uhh, Cordelia. Would it be all right if, well, if..." she nodded purposefully at the van parked below and gave Xander and Oz a look.

"If what?"

Seeing that the guys were making no move to ask, she continued. "Well, if, uh, ifSpikecouldcomein."

"Come again?" Cordy asked, arching a brow. "I could have almost sworn you asked me if Spike could come in."

Xander understood this to mean "ok" and motioned for Aidan to help him. They went back down to the van. Seeing nothing else laying around, Xander tore down the black curtain and wrapped Spike in it. They dragged him out of the van and hoisted him up, placing his arms around their shoulders. They ran quickly up the flight of stairs to Cordy's apartment and through the door. Unfortunately, Spike bounced off of the invisible shield between outside and inside and landed with an "Umf". Willow looked at Spike, alarmed as he started to smoke.

"Omigosh! He's burning!" she shouted.

"Oh all right," Cordelia said reluctantly. "Come on in, Spike."

The boys pulled him in and looked around for a safe place. She motioned across the spacious living room to her bedroom. "It's fairly dark in there. Just don't drop him. I just had my carpets cleaned. And he looks pretty raunchy. Don't put him in my bed."

Xander started mumbling again as they set Spike on the floor and covered him more fully with the thick black cloth. He took a look around the bedroom and had to admit that Cordy had done well for herself so far. As they walked back out, he heard Willow telling Cordelia about Buffy skipping town again.

"Problems much?" Cordelia asked when Willow was finished. "I'm waiting for the day Buffy goes Psycho on us. It's inevitable."

"I think she's just worried about Angel," Willow said.

"Well no wonder. I mean, she's the one who caused him to lose his soul the first time. If she hadn't been all horizontal mambo-y with him - What?!?!" she asked as Xander looked at her disgustedly.

Aidan looked around the group. "What? So she was involved with him. It's ok. I can handle it. But she's with me now," he sent Xander a conspiratorial grin and Xander returned it with a half-hearted thumbs up.

"Yeah well, I don't see her around, do you?" Cordelia asked Aidan. He flushed and she shrugged. "If I were you, I'd find those two as soon as the sun sets. I mean, I've gotten to know Angel, and he's not a bad guy. For a vamp. But how long do you think Buffy can control herself with him around? I mean, I wouldn't put it past her to -"

"Shut up, Cordelia," Xander said.

"Always have to rescue her, don't you Xander? Did it ever cross your mind that she probably doesn't need or *want* your help? Come on. What exactly can a fourth rate loser like you offer her anyway?"

Xander reigned in his anger only long enough to shoot her icy glare. "I don't know, Cordy. But you sure seemed to enjoy whatever it was." With that he stalked out of the apartment. Oz, Willow and Aidan exchanged uncomfortable glances. Cordy slumped against the wall.

"It's only 8," she said tiredly. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going back to bed now. Feel free to drop here." Apparently forgetting about the unconscious vampire in her room, she made the trek and shut the door behind her.

"I'm gonna go see about Xander," Oz said.

Willow nodded to him gratefully. "I guess we can camp out here on the couches." She suddenly looked worriedly at Oz. "Or-or do you think we should all go back to the van? You know, show of solidarity and all...."

Oz shook his head. "Nah. I'm gonna see if I can convince him to come back up. Besides, it's roomier here."

She smiled and shut the door after him. She looked ruefully at Aidan. "Welcome to my world."

They laughed slightly and slumped down on the furniture, falling asleep immediately.



* * *




The sun was just beginning to set when Angel woke again from a deep and dreamless sleep. He stood up and walked to his bedroom. With a worried frown he noticed that Kiara was nowhere in sight. But his attention was caught by the petite blonde snuggled in the middle of his bed. A sudden urge of longing flowed through him. It was a sight he wanted to see everyday for the rest of his miserable unlife.

But he knew that was impossible.

He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down on her. She was so peaceful in sleep. He remembered what it was like to wake up next to her warm, sleeping body. What it was like to enfold her in his arms and hold her until he had to let her go. He traced his fingertips over her smooth cheek and was happily amazed that she still responded to his touch.

As she leaned into his caress, he sat down lightly on the bed. She smiled and murmured in her sleep, and his face grew dark as he remembered a time when he, as Angelus, had climbed into her room to watch her sleeping. Angel gently brushed back a few errant strands of her golden hair. He let them slide through his grasp, savoring the silken feel against his skin. He was touched by the enormity of his simple actions. She was here. And he didn't know if he was strong enough to let her go again.

Yet deep within his undead heart, he knew he would. It was, afterall, the best for *her*.

She opened her sparkling green eyes, a smile still playing over her lips from her slumber. It was obvious she didn't know where she was, or that she thought she was still dreaming. She reached out a hand and cupped his face.

"Angel," she whispered happily, groggily.

"Mmmmm. I'm here." He gazed down at her, so innocent, so young, and yet so strong. He hated himself for everything he'd put her through.

"I know," she sighed. "I'm dreaming aren't I?" The firmer tone of her voice belied her statement.

"Yes, my love, you are." He knew it was a stupid thing to say even as the words spilled from his lips.

She opened her eyes just a bit. "Then, as long as it's only a dream...." She caressed his face, bringing her hand to the back of his neck. He didn't argue as she pulled him down to her. She trailed her fingertips over his masculine features, as if memorizing each and every one of them. He braced himself, propping himself up on the bed as he leaned over her, hands on either side of her head. She ran her hands down his chest and around his back. She tugged on him and he could no longer deny himself. He lowered himself to her, his lips brushing across hers tentatively. She arched beneath him, one hand straying to bury itself in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his cold lips molding themselves to her warm ones. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if she had the power to thaw his ice cold body. Her tongue flicked out, tracing the curve of his lower lip. He flinched at her touch and opened his mouth, letting his tongue dance with hers. The kiss was passionate, but slow. He threaded his fingers through her tussled hair as his other hand met with the hot flesh at the indentation of her waist. She moaned softly and tightened her hold on him. He felt a trickling wetness slip down his wrist and lose itself in the softness of her hair. He slowly pulled back and looked down upon her perfect features. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, her lashes dark and spiky with tears.

She was crying.

"It's not a dream, is it?" she whispered softly.

He gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. "No, it's not," he answered quietly.

Buffy closed her eyes and a few more tears squeezed out from between her lashes. She rolled onto her side and ducked under his arm. She climbed out of the bed, keeping her back to him. He heard her take a deep breath as she combed her fingers through her hair. She pulled down the gray tank top and her hands flitted over the drawstring of her pajama pants. He remained seated on the bed, watching her as she walked to her bags and picked out clean clothes. She entered his bathroom and shut the door with a soft click. Moments later, he heard the shower running.

Angel ran his hands over his hair and cursed himself. He stood up slowly, feeling entirely too old for the charade. He walked to the kitchen and withdrew a container of blood from his refrigerator. He grimaced at the thick, cold plasma, but it took the edge off of his hunger. He wondered for a moment where Kiara was, but pushed the thought from his mind, too focused on Buffy.

Angel was lost in his thoughts, and settled against his kitchen counter, when Buffy walked in. He almost smiled when he saw her, but held it back as he noticed the look in her eyes. She was dressed in a short black leather skirt, a lacy-edged aqua camisole and her black leather boots. It reminded him much of the way she used to be, so cocky yet open. Not troubled by the grief and chaos he would later bring to her life. She slid into her jacket and looked at him expectantly. His jacket.

"Where are we hunting tonight?" she asked.

"Actually, we're not. There's been minimal action around here lately."

"Something up?"

"I don't think so. And if there is, it's not something they're plotting. More like something they're afraid of," he told her, taking a moment to consider the still strange actions of his fellow species.

"Something to look into."

"Maybe."

"But....?"

"But tonight I thought I might stop into a bar where some of my contacts can usually be found."

"So you were planning on investigating anyway?" she asked.

"What can I say?" he murmured with a small smile. "I'm not totally lax on my slaying duties."

"And I am?"

"That's not what I meant." He looked at her, trying to figure out just what was causing the rift between them.

"I know," her voice was soft as she bowed her head. She stood ten feet away from him, but it felt like miles to Angel.

After what seemed like eons, he heard her speak. She looked up, her eyes dark and tormented. "I can't do this. I can't be around you. I thought I'd moved on. I thought I was over you, but...." her voice trailed off.

"But what?" he asked. He ached to go to her, to pick her up in his arms and tell her everything would be fine.

Her voice cracked as she continued. "I'll never stop loving you." She looked into his eyes, willing him to understand. Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. She could barely breath and tears rose unbidden to her eyes. "Out of sight, out of mind doesn't exactly work," she laughed, though it sounded weak and wobbly even to her.

"I know," he whispered.

"I'm seeing someone else now, Angel. And he's really nice. He knows about me. He cares about me. And he...he's-" she broke off, mortified at what she was about to say.

"Human?" he asked, his eyes betraying hurt, but also conveying his acceptance of the inevitable.

She nodded. "I can't have you, Angel. And I can't look at you without....without *everything* coming back. I can't see you and not love you," she finished almost desperately.

He took a step forward, but stopped as she backed away. He ran his hands through his hair. He looked back to her, a small desperation shining in his dark eyes. "Does he make you happy? Are you happy?"

Her eyes widened slightly, but betrayed her inner turmoil. She took a deep breath and swallowed. Her throat constricted as she forced the words out. "Yes. I'm....I'm happy." A lone tear coursed its way down her cheek.

He smiled almost bitterly. He stepped back again and gripped the edge of his counter in his hands. He felt as if he was spinning out of control, yet her words also soothed him. "I'm glad. If you're happy, I'm..." he laughed before continuing the statement. "No, I guess it doesn't really work that way. But your happiness means the most to me. As long as you're happy, I can continue to do what I do."

She shot him a questioning look.

"Survive," he said.

She nodded sadly. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath. "I guess we should be going."

He picked up his own jacket and opened the door. "After you, my lady."

They walked out into the night.





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