A Sorta Fairytale

A Sorta Fairytale

By Rachel
Author's Notes

And I‘m torn in pieces, I’m blind, waiting for... My heart is reeling, I’m blind and waiting for you. Still in love with all your sins, where you stop and I begin, and I‘ll be waiting. Livin’ like a house on fire, what you fear is your desire. It's hard to deal. I still love the way you feel.

She wasn’t sure why she was so uncomfortable, other than the obvious fact of being in church on Christmas morning instead of opening presents and squealing like a five year old. Maybe she was just missing her Mom’s Christmases, the ones where by the time she had woken up on Christmas morning, everyone had already come to her house to seek shelter from their own. Their presents would already be under the tree and places for them set at the table. The last few holidays they had been scattered around the world, with the exception of their new traditional two week stay at Giles for New Year’s.

She looked down the pew and couldn’t help the tiny frown marring her lips. She was spending Christmas with Hank and his girlfriend’s perfect family. Samantha, her father’s evil whore girlfriend who only looked a little less like a whore than the rest of his exes, was barely older than herself, if she was at all; twenty-five maybe, but probably not. She was pretty standard fair as far as her father went: blonde, leggy, and young. At least she’d put on a longer skirt for church, unlike the mini skirt she’d greeted Buffy in when the slayer had arrived at her Father’s place earlier that week. And ‘Sammy’ still had the nerve to treat her like a child.

Other than her, her family seemed pretty okay. There was Julie, Sammy’s older sister, dark hair, dark eyes, pretty, twenty-eight and genuinely sweet, in a Willow kind of way. Julie’s boyfriend, Adam, an artist who wasn’t starving, with a blonde ponytail and a few tattoos hidden underneath his suit jacket. Sammy’s parents, Rob and Meg, truly liked Adam, and accepted Hank as the phase he was and treated him as such, making Buffy giggle endlessly. There were also various aunts, uncles and cousins she was sure to meet at dinner tonight.

She was the sole representation of the Summers line. She would have dragged Dawn along, if her sister hadn’t already informed her weeks ago that she was spending Christmas with Shawn, her boyfriend of six months, and his family. Even more shocking was Dawn telling her that she was bringing Shawn to Giles’ place for New Year’s. Buffy figured they were getting pretty serious if they were doing the whole “meet the family” thing, and Shawn was a nice enough kid that she would allow it... for now.

Buffy’s neck tingled and she blinked. She finally understood why she had felt so strange since the beginning of the entirely too long sermon. Grabbing her coat and purse, she quietly slipped out of the pew, happy that she sat on the end. She walked all the way to the back and found him exactly where she thought: lurking in the shadows, near the exit.

He was so big he seems to take up the whole doorway, broad shoulders, broad chest, dark eyes and a ghost of a smile for her. Her fingers reached to touch his cheek, to make sure that the church lighting wasn’t making her brain do the wacky. She came in contact with warm, but not as warm as a human, skin.

“Angel,” she whispered, swallowing hard as he cupped her hand in his and turned his face , almost on instinct, to kiss her palm. Like two lovers who were seeing each other after a night apart, not long estranged soulmates who were finding their way back to each other. It was casual, easy and broke some of the awkwardness between them; she didn’t flinch, or blink or even pull her hand away, she just let out a little sigh like she was home again. If he had stopped to think about it, he would have apologized or withdrawn, but he didn’t. Maybe it was because he felt more human than he had in centuries, maybe because it was Christmas or maybe he just didn’t see the point anymore.

“Buffy,” he returned, his voice like velvet and chocolate, and his lips soft like satin against her palm. Just the sound of her name on his tongue made her want to do things she was very sure were not okay to do in church. She allowed her fingers to fall from his cheek, but didn’t let go of his hand, holding it as if it were the only thing keeping her from floating away.

“So...” she said, looking at the ground as she collected her thoughts, “are you stalking me or you just like lurking in churches on Christmas?”

A light chuckle and half smile preceded his answer. “I actually lurk in churches on Christmas. It’s my inner Catholic; the holidays bring it out of me.” He stepped in closer and whispered, “I knew you were in town, I was going to come find you later. But the moment I walked in here, I knew you were here so I waited.” Shivers ran through her body; he was so close to her. Lips she’d been missing for years, her safe haven was in his arms, against his chest. His smell, goddess, breathing him in was better than fresh air. Her soul cried in relief.

“What are you doing here?”

She almost missed the question. “Uh... I’m spending Christmas with Hank and his girlfriend’s family. They go to church.” She shrugged, going for nonchalance, rather than the tornado of emotions she was feeling before, but she should have remember that she couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, pulling her into his chest. Her arms wrapped around him without asking her brain for permission, and her head cradled in ‘her’ spot just under his chin. His hands spanned her back and she had never felt so small and protected. His lips brushed her hair and she let out a sob of relief she didn’t know she had been holding in; she’d missed this so much, this unspoken understanding, even when she didn’t quite understand herself. He knew everything; he knew she missed her Mom; he knew she felt alienated and alone, and he knew exactly how to fix it.

“Buffy!” At the sound of Buffy’s name being called, the couple reluctantly separated. Buffy felt the loss of him down to her soul, but before she could say anything, or go find whoever was looking her, Angel grabbed her hand. It wasn’t hard or demanding, just gentle insistence, God, he was always so gentle with her.

A moment later, Julie found her in the shadows. “Buffy, there you are, you just...” she trailed off as she caught sight of Angel, and more importantly, Angel’s hand in Buffy’s. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you... I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay,” Buffy insisted, “Angel, this is Julie. Julie, Angel.” They exchanged waves before an awkward silence fell over the three.

“We’re leaving in a minute,” Julie said, “that’s why I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” She hadn’t realized she’d been gone so long. She looked up at Angel through her lashes and let out a little sigh, “Okay, I’m coming.”

“Actually,” Julie interjected, “Angel, would you like to have dinner at our house tonight, if you aren’t busy?”

Angel looked like a deer in the headlights, and if not for Buffy’s own panic, she would have found it terribly cute on him. “Thank you for the offer, I’m not busy, but I couldn’t impose like that.”

“It’s no trouble at all, trust me. There’s so much food, one more won’t be anything at all. You do eat, don’t you?”

The look of humor that passed between Buffy and Angel went unnoticed by Julie, “Yes, I eat.” he said with smile.

“And I’m sure Buffy would love to have you.” She smiled and Angel could tell it was sincere, that her reasons for inviting him were not to embarrass or otherwise hurt Buffy, who was already blushing a pretty shade of pink.

“What time should I be there?” Julie smiled and began to write down instructions and directions. Buffy glared him, which would have been far more convincing if she wasn’t so flustered.

“Angel!” she hissed lowly, pulling him off to the side. “Are you crazy? No one accepts these kinds of invitations; the only thing this gets you is trapped in a house full of other crazy people you don’t know, without any excuse to leave because they already know you don’t have any place better to be. Hank hates you on principle; his girlfriend is an insane whore who will probably try to eat you alive over the dinner table. These aren’t even my crazy people; they’re other people’s crazy people. Has your brain actually started decaying to the point where you would willingly chose this?” She finished with a huff and a pout, waiting expectantly for his answer.

“Are you going to be there?” he asked.

“Well of course I am, I’ve been sucked into this hell hole and I can’t get out, you have a choice.”

He leaned forward, as if he had some huge secret to tell, until his lips almost touched her ear, “If you’re going to be there, then that’s where I want to be.” Her eyes fluttered closed as his voice washed over her, his cheek brushing against hers lightly. As he pulled away, his lips skimmed over her cheek, leaving her skin prickling in its wake. The sensation was so fleeting and intense, that had they been alone, she would have moaned.

“Here’s the address.” Julie said, getting Angel’s attention. In her hand was a folded piece of notebook paper. “The directions are on the other side.”

He stepped forward and took offered piece of paper. “What time should I be there?”

“Dinner’s at five,” she said, barely able to contain a grin

If I had some influence girl, with the powers that be, I’d have them fire that arrow at you, like they fired it right at me. And maybe when your heart and soul are burning you might see, that every time I’m talking with you, It’s always over too soon. That everyday feels so incomplete till you walk into the room. Say the word now girl, I’ll jump that moon.

“So...” Buffy started as she walked Angel to his car, the gray overcast sky allowing Angel to walk freely in the daylight. They weren’t touching; touching was very much of the bad. If she did... she wasn’t going there. She stared up at the cool gray sky as she searched for something to say. A hundred different thoughts ran through her mind: How’s the pseudo-human thing going? You’re soul’s not in danger? Why didn’t you find me sooner? Do you still love me? Cause I still love you. I think I die a little everyday you’re not with me. You still feel the same. You’re home to me. Don’t break my heart again.

Ultimately, she settled on, “You really don’t have to do the dinner thing; I can get you out of it you want.”

He turned, his eyes found her looking at him shy and insecure, seeking some sort of reassurance or comfort. He struggled to the find the words: Don’t you know how amazing you are? You are the brightest thing in the room, always. You are a guiding light for me. You’re perfect, even in your imperfection. I love you, God I love you so much there are days when I think it’ll break me and days when it’s the only thing holding me together. Don’t you know? You’re everything, you’re stunning. I don’t know how to love without you. I don’t even know how to be loved without you. I need you, everyday, every moment, with every breath that I don’t take.

“I want to come... unless you don’t want me to.”

“No!” she said quickly, and then bit her lip. She didn’t want to sound too excited (which she was) or desperate (which she probably was but liked to pretend she wasn’t). She sighed at herself, than dared a glance up at him to find amusement dancing in his eyes. “God, I suck at this, sorry.”

“Just say what you wanna say,” he said with a shrug. As if it was all that simple, she huffed mentally. However, she could tell that he meant it, so she might as well give it a shot.

“Well, I want you to come, but not if you don’t want to. But if you do want to, you don’t have to want to because I want you to. You should want to on your own and I’m like the toy surprise in the cereal.” She winced at the analogy, but moved on. “Anyway, you should want to come, because if you don’t, I’ll spend the whole night feeling guilty about making you come to something that you didn’t want to come to, and it’s not even my family, in which case I’d have some rights to force you to come, if you were my boyfriend, which you’re not and it’s not the point anyway. If you don’t want to come then you shouldn’t and why are you smiling at me like that?” Buffy halted her ramble because at some point during it, they had stopped walking and somehow, he ended up in front of her and now he was smiling. It was an Angel-smile, it was her smile, but something about it was so bright, like a little boy who found a shiny new bike under the tree come Christmas morning.

“I just love you, is all.” He’d forgotten how impossible she was to understand when she was rambling. He’d forgotten how adorable it was. He had never forgotten who she was to him, she was his soulmate, but it was moments like this when he so acutely remembered why. She was just... everything. She, somehow, managed to be everything he needed in his life, without at all trying to be.

She sighed his name as he moved in closer to her, his hands sliding down to firmly hold her hips, and leaning in until their foreheads touched. They could have stayed like that for days for all she can remember; the passing of time stops when he touches her. The world dimmed around them and the next thing she recognized after the absolute feeling of rightness was her world exploding as his lips touched hers.

It was their first kiss in years; it was passion, long dormant and nearly forgotten surging to the forefront like breaking waves against the sand. It washed over her, cooling the deep ache in her soul that had been there for so long, she didn’t remember another way to be. For him, it was heat, like fire and sun and all other forbidden things. The rules of the curse didn’t apply anymore, he was a free man, free to love, to make love. And with the taste of her on his lips, he realized how possible it could actually be, how sweet and wonderful and perfectly sane it could all be if he just never stopped kissing her again. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she shifted her weight so that he could lift her off the ground, so that her toes barely felt the concrete. She was gone, ruined for love and other men. This was it, this was magic.

Finally, one of them –probably him– remembered that she needed to breathe, and broke the kiss to the protest of both. He allowed her to catch her breath, panting softly as he feathered fairydust kisses over her cheeks and nose, finally coming back to her lips and brushing them with short, painfully sweet kisses. Her feet found the ground again, but he didn’t pull away. His arms were still around her, his forehead was still against hers. She was still warm and safe, she was still home. For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined the kiss, but then she tasted the cool, clean spice of his kisses on her lips.

Nope, definitely didn’t make that one up.

“Angel,” she sighed.

“I know, I know,” he whispered over and over, soothing like someone lost. “I have to go, there’s something I need to do, but I’ll be there tonight, I promise.” reluctantly, painfully, he stepped away from her and off the curb to his car, which was apparently right in front of them. ‘Must be why we stopped walking’ she thought absently as she watched in get his car.

Suddenly, a panic overtook her, “Angel!” she shouted, before he could climb in. He turned in time to see her throw herself at him. He caught her with ease and she kissed him with a passion to rival their last performance. She stopped, looking at him as if she remembered something of grave importance. “I love you too.” she told him.

Angel just smiled.

I dream of high clouds, flushed with the light of daybreak. I'm gonna dive in to water so cold it makes your bones ache. Fingers, knees and knuckles scraped, all of the rubbish heaped, a piece of cardboard taped up where the bedroom window pane used to be. From here you can almost see the sea.

Five outfits, two hairstyles and three pairs of shoes later, Buffy stood in front the mirror, finally pleased with her appearance. She checked her hair and smoothed away imaginary wrinkles away from her top and skirt. It was silly really, he had seen her at her worst, and he’d loved her at worst, but she wanted to be pretty tonight. There were no demons, no vampires, no angry spirits coming to ruin dinner, no suicide attempts. Tonight, she got to be a regular girl, and regular girls dressed up to see their boyfriends.

Sighing to her reflection, she wondered if she should even bother. Yeah, he loved her, but he always had, she hoped anyway. Love didn’t make the world stop spinning. Love didn’t make the demons go away. They both still had jobs to do, demons to fight and worlds to save, they would never be left in peace and...she hadn’t felt so strong or protected as she had in his arms earlier. Wrapped in a cocoon of loving warmth, she could have flown away, and that was not something she was just going to let pass her by. Maybe the world wouldn’t stop spinning, but maybe they deserved happiness anyway.

As the smile fell over her face, she heard her name being called from downstairs. Checking her watch, she realized it was already 6:30, and Angel must have just arrived. Giving herself one final once-over, she went downstairs.

As she descended, she found Angel chatting easily with Mrs. Sullivan, or Meg as she insisted on being called. The moment her boot heels clicked against the stairs, his attention was immediately on her, and a slow smile swept across his face. Her heart pounded as his gaze followed her. She had received many different looks from many different men, but no one ever made her feel as sexy, or as much like herself as his look did. She was reminded again of how well he knew her as he took her in without words. He knew that she had probably spent hours picking out that outfit, even though she could have shown up in mud and he would have still thought her the brightest thing in the room.

As she hit the bottom step, he reached out to take her hand, pulled her closer to him. As if sensing the possibility for awkwardness, he paid her a compliment, “You look lovely,” And gave her a swift, but sweet kiss on the lips.

Buffy’s cheeks flared pink, “Angel!” she hissed. Although she couldn’t seem to find the venom she was looking for.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Meg said, “I would have been mad if he hadn’t kissed you. It’s nice to see people who still know to be in love in this day and age.”

“Thank you,” was Buffy’s reply to the odd compliment.

“Angel was just telling me how you two met. It’s quite wonderful if you ask me.” Buffy sent him a look that said he was going to have to tell what edited version of their first encounter he had told her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a couple of things to check on before dinner, and I’m sure you two want to talk.” She said, leaving the room, but not before leaning over to Buffy, “Take some advice from a long married woman; you’ve got a good one there, don’t let him go. Now, if only Sammy had your taste,” she said with a mock sigh that made the blonde giggle as Meg headed to the kitchen.

“Always a hit with the parents; must be those 18 century manners.”

He shrugged, almost shyly, as if to say he didn’t notice. “They seem nice.”

She nodded her confirmation, “Yeah, they’re good people, even if their daughter has questionable taste in men.” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “Actually, it would be questionable for anyone over thirty-five, but for someone my age to date someone like Hank, it should get you committed.”

“Can I ask you a question then?

“Sure, go for it.”

“What made you come out here? I know Hank’s your father, but...”

She bit her lips as he trailed off, and gave him a tiny half shrug. “Hope, I guess. Dawn went to her boyfriend’s and everyone else was busy, so... I guess I just wanted to see... wanted to know if there was anything here for me. If there was someplace I still... fit. So much of my old life was here, and I just needed to know if New Buffy, or I guess Different Buffy had a place here, with Hank or...” Her eyes opened up to him, deep into her soul, allowing him to see her insecurity, her pain and confusion.

“And?” he prompted softly.

“I found something, I just don’t know if I’m wanted or if it’ll work.”

Before Angel could response, they were interrupted by Sammy, who called them into the living room to ‘mingle.’

On my way up north, up on the Ventura I pulled back the hood and I was talking to you. And I knew then it would be a Life Long thing, but I didn't know that we could break a silver lining . And I'm so sad, like a good book, I can't put this day back. A sorta fairytale with you.

They managed to make it to the dinner table without too much trouble. Hank had spotted the young man sitting next to his daughter and eyed him as though he had the right. Sammy had been looking at him like he was the last piece of chocolate cake in the bakery. She’d already made three passes at Angel, which he had nicely, but firmly, shut down. Hank witnessed at least one of the attempts which added to the glaring factor.

But other than that, and maybe a little because of it, it was a nice, normal family dinner, just not with her family, and if sensing her sadness, Angel reached under the table and took her left hand in his. She sighed, a small sound of relief as Adam stood from his seat and said he had an announcement to make before the turkey was carved. He turned to Julie, got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife. Her answer was an immediate agreement, followed by launching herself into Adam’s arms, very similar, Buffy noted, to the way she had jumped into Angel’s just hours before. She smiled, but there was wistfulness to it; this is what normal families did, and how normal families worked, and she couldn’t help but feel more out of place with each passing moment. She knew she didn’t belong, that was never the issue, she had known that from the moment she walked in the door. Maybe it was the holidays in general, or the happy couple in front of her. Maybe it was just that Angel always threw her, but she needed something, some confirmation that she had something to hold on to, something–

Her brain halted as she felt cool metal wrap around her finger. Looking down, she found a ring on the hand that Angel still held; a silver Claddgah ring. And as his hand slid across the top of hers, she noticed a ring matching hers on his finger. She lifted her eyes to meet his, and found him already studying her reaction.

Had anyone been paying attention, they would have notice the sudden intensity between the two. Had it been anyone in their family, they would have seen the silent conversation between them: his trepidation, his question, his request for forgiveness, his hope that the ring would bring more good memories than bad, and love behind it all. Or the tears in her eyes, of surprise and gratitude, her love, her forgiveness, the happy smile of acceptance.

Had anyone bothered to look over at them, they would have seen a kiss that sealed a bond that had never truly broken. But no one did look, they were lost in a sea of someone else’s congratulations, and neither had a mind to care.

The after-dinner coffee and hot cocoa was served in the living and due to a lack of chairs, Buffy sat on the floor, in between Angel’s leg with her head on chest, while he leaned against the back of a sofa. The mood of the room was quiet and comfortable, carols playing softly in the background and some old movie on the TV. All was calm, with the exception of Sammy, who was apparently offended at being denied the opportunity to flirt with someone else’s boyfriend in front of her own – as Angel was most completely and wholly involved in Buffy– picked a fight with Hank, after which they had both stormed off to their separate corners.

Buffy realized she should have been embarrassed by her Father’s complete social tactlessness, which rivaled Cordy, as well as his taste in girlfriends, but she simply could not bring herself to care. They sat content, sipping hot cocoa, every once and while, he’d play with her hair or run his fingers over her belly in ways that made her shiver, all the while gently field questions about school and jobs, and creatively wording the answers. Except when one the Uncles (Bill, she was pretty sure), asked what Angel had gotten her for Christmas. At that, he simply held up her hand to show of the ring.

As the conversation slowed, and the room fell to whispers, Buffy leaned further into Angel and let her eyes flutter shut.

“Are you tired?” he asked softly, so as not to startle her.

She shook her head against him, though did not open her eyes. “No, but I should probably get to bed if I wanna get any sleep. I have a noon flight to England tomorrow, I just don’t want this to end.” she answered in an equally soft tone.

“Come home with me, we’ll make love until dawn.”

That made her open her eyes. She looked up and found no traces of mirth in his eyes or fear of the demon, just love and desire. He was completely serious; it made her heart race and her stomach flip-flop. “What about my flight?”

“I’ll make sure you get there.”

“No,” she shook her head, “I mean, I’m leaving in the morning. What does it mean for us?”

“It means I love you, and we’ll figure it out when the time comes. Just come with me, and I’ll kiss you until the sun rises.”

“And what if I can’t stay awake?”

“Then I’ll hold you while you sleep.”

So speak kind to a stranger, cause you’ll never know. It just might be an angel come knockin’ at your door. And I’m waiting on an angel and I know it won’t be long. To find myself a resting place in my angels arms. And I’m waiting on an angel, one to carry me home, Hope you come to see me soon, cause I don’t want to go alone, I don’t want to go alone.

Knots formed in her belly as cool fingertips slipped under her crushed velvet shirt, teasing the skin underneath. His oh-so-slow kisses making her heart race. Nerves and desire rushed to the forefront as he removed her shirt, leaving her only in a black lace bra. Gently, he lifted her and moved her over the bed, laying her down and moving to cover her body with his own, all the while never moving his lips from hers.

Sensing her nervousness, he stopped. Warm brown met hazel green, and as she looked into his eyes, all that was there was love, trust and a good amount of lust. He had no fear, not of the demon being released from his cage or their relationship, and that might have been the scariest part of all. With a nod of confirmation from her, he continued his journey to relearn every inch of her skin.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered. “Just relax.” He placed feather-light kisses on her cheeks and nose as her eyes fluttered shut. He brushed a single one over her lips before moving down to her clavicle, kissing along it until he reached her breastbone. Suddenly, his hands, which had been reacquainting themselves with her ribs and tummy, were under her back; one holding her up, and the other unclasping her bra, exposing her hot skin to the cool air.

The garment was tossed away, leaving her vulnerable as his lips kissed down her skin before finally stopping where she needed it the most. She cried out, arching up into him as his lips and tongue did wonderfully naughty things to her. Leaving one hand under her back to support her, the other found the tiny zipper on her skirt, tugging it down to reveal her bare hip and the string of her thong. He rubbed tiny circles against the skin and moved his mouth to her other side. Her fingers found soft, spiky hair while a plaintive moan left her lips. He was being so absolutely pleasantly torturous that she never wanted him to stop.

Angel could tell she was near the point of begging. Good, that’s where he wanted her; he wanted her desire for him to overwhelm her, he wanted her to feel, not think. Slowly, he moved down to her stomach, leaving her skin wet to the air around her. He started a trail of open mouth kisses, slowly leading downward, pausing around her bellybutton. He felt every shudder and ripple that passed through her body, he loved her tummy.

Slipping her skirt off her hips, he made a path of kisses across her panty line, but instead of going where she obviously wanted him to go– and truthfully, where he wanted to be– he bypassed her panties entirely. Kneeling at the end of the bed, he removed her skirt completely before starting at the top of her inner thigh, and making a line of kisses always the way down, removing her boots and socks when he reached them.

By the time he finished her other leg; she sat up, grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him hotly. She unbuttoned his shirt with slayer speed, not nearly as gentle as he had been with her. Not that he cared at this point. As soon as the buttons were done, she pushed it off his shoulder and took mouthfuls of his chest and abs. He softly stroked her hair while her fingers found the belt on his pants, frantically working on it.

He felt her hands tremble and stumble over the bucket, and even though she managed to get it undone, she made no move to take off his pants. She sat there, frozen in shame and sadness, he knew without thinking where her mind was right then. Tipping her chin until they were at eye-level, he was stunned at the pain in her eyes, pain that he had caused, pain that he should have taken away years ago.

“Buffy, you have no idea how much that night meant to me.”

Her eyes widened, in surprise and disbelief, “I know I’m not same girl from that night, I’ve been with other guys and stuff, but I’ll never have the level of experience you do, and–”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted firmly. “It never mattered. Being with you, it’s not even in the same realm. Do you honestly think I spent our time together comparing you to other women?” A tiny shrug was the only answer he got from her. “No, baby, never, not before, during or after. Don’t you understand? Sex was just sex before, meaningless gratification. But with you, I was in love, I’d never been in love before and I haven’t loved anyone since, that changes everything. Being with you that night, touching you, kissing you, it meant more to me than a thousand nights with a thousand other women.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close until their foreheads touched. “Do you know what I was thinking that night?” There was a tiny shake ‘no’, but she never broke connect from him. “I was thinking about how I’d never felt that way before, how scary that it must have been for you, because it was scary for me. How I wanted to give myself to you as much as you were giving yourself to me. I loved you so much I lost my soul in you. I wish that everything that happened after would have never happened, that you would have never experienced that kind of pain or betrayal. But I wouldn’t have traded that night with you for anything.”

“But about the sex part?” She asked with a little pout, still unsure.

“They aren’t separate things, baby, it was everything for me. If it helps though, I very much enjoyed myself and I was looking forward to doing it again,” he told her with a smile.

The fear still flinted in her eyes, but it was lessened, because she knew who she was dealing with. This was Angel, the man who loved her, the man who knew her soul like no other, who knew her body better from one night than anyone else would have in a hundred encounters. Finding her courage again, she bought her hands to the waistband of his pants. “So make love to me.”

His only answer was to kiss her.

The early lights of down flickered outside of the window, when she finally rolled over, safe and sated, into her lover’s arms.

“Come to England with me,” she asked him. “Come to England with me and we’ll figure out the rest when the time comes.”

“We’ll probably have to get a later flight,” he reasoned, logically. As if logic and love had anything at all to do with one another.

“I don’t care, just stay with me?”

Her family wouldn’t approve, and neither would what was left of his. He could have argued about the long road ahead of them, the potential dangers to both of them, or any of the thousand complications that could have come to mind. But he had been around long enough to know that love like this doesn’t come along every lifetime, let alone love that was as strong and unwavering as theirs, and if he was being gifted with it once again, who was he to disagree?

“I’ll check the flights in after we get some sleep.” A satisfied smile crossed her lips as she snuggled in deeper and quickly fell to sleep. He watched her for a moment before finally closing his own eyes and holding her tight. He had spent his entirely life looking for home, now that he had it he wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

The End

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Author's Notes:
Rating: R
Summary: A semi-chance meeting, because really, when was anything ever chance with them?
Disclaimer: Joss owns everyone, I own nothing but the idea. I’m simply taking them out to play with.
Distribution: Ask please
Song lyrics (in order of appearance) are from: Big Machine by Goo Goo Dolls. Be Mine and From Here You Can Almost See the Sea both by David Gray. A Sorta Fairytale by Tori Amos and Waiting on An Angel by Ben Harper.
Spoilers: Post NFA/Chosen
Notes: Written for the IWRY Marathon. Angel is slowly becoming more human, although still more vamp than human, but human enough that his soul no longer belongs to the demon, it belongs to the man. I started this last year based on a very detailed dream I had. Thanks to Kitty_cat89 for the super quick beta.

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