Valentine’s night. Everyone was at the Bronze, and she’d promised to meet them after patrol. She wouldn’t, though. She wouldn’t meet them again. Ever.

Things had gone from bad to worse. Her life was a spiral of despair. She had become alienated from the people she loved. Now, they questioned her decisions, made it impossible for her to protect them.

And the First was back in the mix.

Giles made her feel inadequate, slow.

The potentials made her feel old, tired.

Dawn made her feel a complete failure.

Spike made her feel… dirty. Appropriate. Now he’d disappeared, her last link with…

No! Don’t think of him. Useless. He was Angelus now, and who knew where he was? When those idiots lost Angel’s soul, they had lost her hope, too. A fool’s hope, perhaps. Nevertheless, all these years, it had remained buried, a tiny, frozen seed, waiting for a spring that had always been a million-to-one chance, and now was no chance at all.

Angelus had disappeared. Soon, news would arrive of his depredations somewhere, and she would be expected to kill him. The final straw. Not again. Never again could she see the agony on the face of her beloved. Never again could she excise that seed of hope from her soul.

So, she would face the First. If she failed, as she certainly would, there was always Faith. And the potentials. She had given all she had. There was no white knight to rescue her.

Except, she had become careless, lost in thought, and now she was surrounded by vampires. She was too tired to take them, but she tried. She really tried. It wasn’t enough. They held her down, and the oldest straddled her, fangs bared in a grin of triumph.

She shut her eyes, waiting for the end, wondering what was falling, as soft as feathers, over her face.

When the end didn’t come, she opened her eyes. They’d gone. Ashes to ashes. There was just him. He scrutinised her for a moment, then turned and left.

She followed. It seemed the only thing left to do.

He’d moved into the mansion. She hesitated, but this must be faced. Another straw. Inside, there was no sign of him, although she could feel him everywhere, that tingle that spoke only of him. There was just a chessboard, game in progress, two glasses of wine and a red rose. She couldn’t tell who was winning. She didn’t understand the game. Any of the games.

As she studied the board, a strong pair of arms wrapped around her, and a cool pair of lips kissed the nape of her neck. One hand reached out and moved the white knight towards the black queen.

“White Knight to Black Queen,” he murmured, removing the queen from the board. He turned her around then, still holding her close. “I’m here now, you’ll never have to be alone again. I promise.”

The tiny frozen seed cracked a little, as hope grew.

“Angel,” she murmured, as she reached up to his lips. His only reply lay in his kiss.

THE END
14 February 2004

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