TITLE: Perfect Fallen Angel
AUTHOR: ~~~Joey~~~
EMAIL: joey.hargrove@wanadoo.fr
FEEDBACK: "Are you even listening? I need feedback, people!" (Anya, Hell's Bells)
ARCHIVE/DISTRIBUTION: My site Buffy & Angel Rock, otherwise ask.
SUMMARY: Part of the fic takes place in October when Buffy drove and met Angel half-way between Sunnydale and Los Angeles, and part takes place during Summer 2002 (after the sixth season), on the eve of Tara’s funeral. Buffy's POV.
SPOILERS: Sixth season of Buffy.
RATING: PG – 13, like the show.
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon owns all the characters, I just love ‘em.
THANKS TO: Shelly and Fanny, my beta-readers
NOTE #1: English isn’t my mother tongue (even if I wish it was), so I’d be happy if you could point out problems of language and characterization.
NOTE #2: The song by Michelle Branch is called "Here with me" and can be found on her album "The Spirit Room". James' song reflects exactly what I tried to say but I only discovered it after having written the fic and I wouldn't rewrite everything, so I just left it at the end.

I can’t stop thinking about it, about where I was. It’s not like I’m always moaning about it, because I’m not. Actually, I’ve gotten really good with the denial game. But I broke down a few days ago. With Spike. Oh lord, shame on me, huh? Sad part is, I really felt like he was the only one I could tell without feeling all guilty about it. I thought I could tell Giles, but… I haven’t had the chance. And, there’s the part where I don’t think I can do it. Anyway, the point is that I don’t think about it. It’s just there. It lies there, in the back of my mind, and I only really think about it when I’m alone. The rest of the time, well, it just makes everything harder. Just getting through the next moment is so hard. I hate it, really. But so far, nothing has been able to make it disappear.

I want to live again. Not just survive because I have to.

But it keeps getting worse. Giles has given me money but I can’t live off his generosity forever. I know I have to find a job, but I don’t know if I can do it all – having a job, going to college, taking care of Dawn. Honestly, how did things pile up like this? I mean, it’s hard enough for me to *be* here without crying all the time, I have to be broke too? Someone up there is really trying to depress me. Not that hard.

I thought about killing myself. Yeah, I know. Sometimes I think… it would just make sense. But I can’t be sure I’ll be back to the warm and loving atmosphere, and part of me doesn’t want to find out. Also, I look at Dawn and I know I can’t do that to her. There’s Willow and Xander and Giles, of course, but Dawn’s my sister, and she’s just a kid. She’s gone through too much already, the divorce, the move, Mom, the Key thing… I can’t leave her. She didn’t do anything. So I’m staying for Dawn, and here’s the whole problem: she doesn’t know it. I’m trying to make things good but I know I’m not doing a good job of it. I want to hug her and tell her it’s okay, but I can’t. What’s wrong with me? I just can’t bring myself to hug my sister. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand why I’m shutting out my little sister.

And yet, I won’t do anything against it.

Don’t ask.

So, I’m here. I’ve just driven into the little town Angel told me to meet him in. I’ve found the place we’re to meet. Nothing to write home about, believe me, it’s like two streets plus a main. So, here it is. I get out of the car and my heart is already racing, even before I make it to the entrance. I didn’t think I’d be like this. So *emotionnal* about seeing him, that is. Actually I’m glad I didn’t get pulled over on the freeway, I think I’ve never driven so fast in my life. I don’t know what’s making me so nervous and eager to see him. No, wait, I know that much.

It’s because it’s him.

I haven’t seen him yet, but I’m already putting all my hopes in him. I want him to be my savior, to make me feel something again, to make me want to live. I want him so badly to be my angel, because if he can’t be… I don’t think anyone can. Please, whoever is up there… make me sick, dumb, broke, whatever makes you giggle, but *please* let him be my savior.

**********

I wonder if everybody goes through a time where they hate themselves as much as I’ve hated myself for the past few months. I hope not. Most people don’t deserve to feel so bad. Me? It’s different for me. I do deserve it. Because it’s all my fault. Oh, I didn’t bring myself back from the dead, obviously, but the rest? It’s all my own doing. The not telling my friends how I felt, the not being close to Dawn, the not taking care of her properly, the Giles leaving because I was always turning to him for every little thing, the sleeping with Spike, over and over, the letting Willow down when she needed me. Great sum-up, huh? A lot to be proud of.

And okay, I’m back to beating myself up. Giles says I don’t need to, but I can’t help it. It’s just the way I work. I know I can do it now and that it’s sort of okay. Back when I was having sex with Spike, it was bad. It somehow led to more sex with Spike, which made me wanna beat myself up some more, which led to, well, you see my vicious circle. Now it’s different. I see things more clearly. I see where I made mistakes, *why* I made them and I feel like I can begin to deal with it. Mostly, I mean. I know tomorrow’s going to be so hard, and probably the next million tomorrows even though, thank god, we don’t get to bury someone every tomorrow.

Anyway. Me? What I need to work out can be summed up in two names : Spike and Angel. Angel and Spike. Those two? I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do.

Spike. He just haunts me. I shiver as I think his name, and it’s scary. You can say his name and I’ll *feel* him holding my wrists, feel the cold bathroom floor against my back and his cold weight over me and it makes me sick and teary and angry at the same time. Now that he’s gone, I hope he’ll never be back. Maybe if I never see him again, the feelings, the memories, the pain will go away. That would be very much of the good. Sure, I know I’ve got mixed feelings for him. But I don’t like it and I don’t care. I don’t want to have to think about it.

Now, Angel? It’s a totally different thing. I hate myself about this bit.

I never forgot what he said back in October.

**********

I still can’t believe it’s him. I can see him, just a few yards away, and every inch of me craves the warmth he used to bring me. That’s the past and it’s over, I know it perfectly, yet I can’t help it. I guess it’s just usual Buffy reaction to Angel stimuli, but I’ll never tell. As I’ve said, I’m really good with this whole denial thing. But I’ll tell you this: it doesn’t change what I feel and it never changes, what I feel. Nothing has changed the fact I want to run to him, except I’m paralyzed, my heart bouncing in my chest and I can’t move. It’s him. He’s here.

He turned around the second I walked in. He feels me, just like I feel him. Which is good, because I so need someone who understands what I feel. Not just listens like Spike did. Oh, I don’t know why I told him everything.

No, again, I know that much.

I had to let it out. It was killing me – it still is, but it was good to say the words. I hate myself for having told Spike. I’m totally confused about him right now. He was just so sweet just right after I was brought back, and that time I went to his crypt… But I know he’s evil and he’d be killing my friends (and probably me, come to think of it) if it wasn’t for the chip. People, even dead, evil, vampire people, shouldn’t be able to send messages that mixed.

But none of it matters anymore. Angel is now staring at me with his big dark eyes and I wonder if it’s really tears I can see in them. He’s looking at me like I’m a treasure he thought lost… It makes me warm and cold at the same time.

“Buffy, I…” he whispers as he walks to me.

“Angel, hi,” I reply softly.

Before I know anything else, I’m in his arms, held tight against his chest where no heart’s beating. I suddenly feel so warm, so loved and protected. The Willow and Xander hug didn’t leave me feeling this good because I couldn’t stop thinking of where I was, and that they were the ones to tear me out of there. But with Angel, I just feel good. He hasn’t played any part in my return and there’s something else. I can’t explain it. I have these feelings running through me… like Angel is transmitting something, a feeling of love and hope and I can’t explain it but it feels so good. I can feel the connection we have. And suddenly I know why he could make me feel better the night mom was buried, I know why I can’t forget him.

His hands grasp my shoulders and I hug him back, finally. My fingers find the soft texture of his shirt and I hold him tight, so tight I might even stop breathing. That’s what I want, deep inside. To go back. Angel’s warmth – I can’t understand how he can feel so warm, with him being a vampire - reminds me of the warmth I had up there. I want to cry, to let the tears out, feel them rolling down my cheeks and dry them on Angel’s shirt, but I’m still suffering from that rock symptom. I mean that the fact I can’t really feel anything. No feelings mean no tears, and no laughter. Sometimes I manage a smile but it’s all I can do.

“Oh god… Buffy…” I can hear him whisper even though he’s not really talking to anyone. His voice is so broken. I’ve never heard it like this, not since… since I had to send him to hell. God.

I don’t know how long we’ve been like this, hugging each other and not moving. I feel numb, especially my fingertips because I’m clutching his shirt so hard… finally I feel him letting go and I stand back. I’m still a big girl. I haven’t cried. I’m still a rock.

**********

I still haven’t told my friends why I slept with Spike. I don’t mean to say it doesn’t matter, because really, it’s what matters most – why I was able to have sex with someone I hate. But I couldn’t face them with the simple fact that I was sleeping with him, let alone get into the reasons *why*. If they want to know, they’ll ask, and I promise I’ll answer. And yeah, I’m playing the weasel because I know they won’t ask. Willow won’t because frankly, she has other things to care about right now. Xander won’t because I’m sure he’d be happy if he never heard about it again and he’s happy to pretend it never happened. I know he was so disappointed in me… Anyway. Giles won’t, because I think he considers it’s none of his business and anyway I can’t picture he and I talking about rough and tumble sex. Anya would ask but she doesn’t really care – she might ask what kind of sex was better but I’d rather she didn’t. Dawn… well, she’s the only one I can picture asking me why I did what I did. But I’m kind of afraid she doesn’t really get how evil Spike is because he’s always been so sweet with her. That’s why I was okay to send her to his crypt when Willow went all dark and wacky with the evil, even if Spike had just tried to… He wouldn’t hurt her. It’s the one thing I’m entirely sure about regarding Spike. He would protect Dawn with his life if he had to and he’d never hurt her. So I fear Dawn would see nothing wrong with me being with Spike, maybe hope the whole Spike and I thing could work out, and I don’t want that conversation to happen. I’d have to let all these feelings out, how I can’t stand him but I damn well loved having sex with him and how dirty and guilty I feel for the whole thing, and I don’t want her to hear this. Not now. Not now with Tara’s funeral.

In a nutshell? I’d go with the Xander option. Forget all about Spike and never talk about it again. But I have the feeling Spike isn’t going to play the denial game.

“Buffy, I’m going to Janice’s.” Dawn’s head pops into the kitchen entrance.

“Okay. You’re coming home after dinner, right?”

“Yeah. You sure you okay with this? I mean, Janice’s sister is totally cool. She can stay with us if, y’know, you’d rather be alone tonight.”

“It’s okay, Dawn. I’ll be happy to have you two here, don’t worry.” We look at each other for a while, I know we’re both thinking about it because I was on the verge of telling her I was glad I wouldn’t be alone all night long. But I feel it’s my duty to back her up. To reassure her. “Dawn? I want you to have fun, okay? Don’t… don’t have second thoughts or anything. Enjoy the evening. Tomorrow’s gonna be hard enough as it is.”

“I know.” Her voice is so feeble… I can’t believe we’re going through the same thing, again. I hate it when things pile up. I mean… a kid shouldn’t have to bury their mother twice in a two-year time.

“Good.” I try to sound confident because she needs me. She needs her big sister. There’s something so unfair about all this. “Go then,” I manage to smile.

She comes over and kisses me on the cheek. I smile again because I treasure these signs of love. You know, not too obvious because I get uneasy, and then she’s out the door. I really hope she has a nice time at her friend’s. With everything else she’s had to deal with, she deserves some nice summer moments. Of course, it doesn’t exactly start off great, but at least you can only expect it to get better, right? As I’ve said, this is so unfair.

Didn’t we get our share of sorrow and pain this year?

Tara’s been so important to me. Ever since I met her, I really felt like she was my friend. Not that I talked much to her, this past year, not really. I wasn’t big with the talking and the sharing with anyone. But just her presence, her comforting look, her comforting presence, and the fact that she knew my burden kept it hers, and that I could count on her not sharing my secret. That’s a lot, you know? That’s special. There was something wonderful about her. She had this *look*. It made you feel good, whoever you were. It was a lover’s look for Willow, it was a confidante look for me, and… it was a mother’s look for Dawn. I may have been oblivious to a ton of things, but even I wasn’t out enough not to notice the relationship Dawn and Tara shared. Dawn loved Tara as she loved mom, and she loved the couple Willow and Tara formed as she loved Mom and Dad.

Dear, sweet Dawnie. All she cared about was that Willow and Tara loved each other and I’m sure she never had a thought about the fact they were both women.

Oh, I’m not saying *I* minded, or that it mattered to me. I mean, Willow was happy, and that’s all I cared about. But I have to admit I thought about it. I thought about how she loved Oz and how she loves Xander and it was confusing in the beginning. But Dawn… It was just natural to her. She understood way sooner than I did that it wasn’t a question of gender. It was all about love. Funny enough, Willow and Tara really were the only ones to overcome their problems as a couple. I mean, I don’t know what will happen to Xander and Anya, but they aren’t exactly in a great place right now. Xander and Cordelia? Cordelia just ended taunting him more than ever and she left eventually town. Me? Ah, I’m the best. My two boyfriends left. Not left-me-left, but left-town-left. Which is pretty much irrevocable. And the last guy I slept with? A sex toy. Boy, I do have a lot to teach Dawn about love, don’t I? Anyway, you see my point. Willow and Tara, they may have both been female and I know it bothers some people, but they provided a happy and loving couple image to Dawn. I can’t thank them enough for that.

Poor Dawnie.

Her second mom is gone because of a wild shot meant for me. How unfair is that? And ironic. Since she was ten she’s been used to vampires and demons and everything, and her two maternal figures… they were taken away from her by natural forces. Or more exactly, by sickness and by dumbness. I hate this. I hate that we can be so vulnerable and I hate that life’s so unfair to my little sister.

I guess life’s also unfair to me, but I don’t feel that sorry for myself. I lost someone I loved very much, whose true greatness I was only just beginning to see … But part of me keeps telling myself that I had it coming. That people I love wouldn’t keep disappearing if I sometimes cared more about them on a human level. Not just protect them from the baddies, y’know? Being there for them. Being a good friend, a good sister. It’s all about love and how you show it.

Maybe I’m just being hard on myself. But I know someone could have been there for me before Tara was and that I never bothered to call him.

**********

“If it’s okay with you, we’re going to the restaurant.”

His voice is confident, steady. Nothing in it to show that he’s just been on the verge of crying a few minutes ago as we shared a hug. (By the way, I realize there’s something horribly tragic about the two of us. A few years ago, I was asking him out by telling him we could share more than blood and death. Now that we’ve been together and parted, we’ve only seen each other for gloomy things : Faith, my mom’s death and my resurrection. I know my resurrection is supposed to be happy news and I’m sorta hoping it is for everyone else, but let’s face the truth here : to me it’s just a nightmare. So I wonder if bloody to gloomy is a real improvement and frankly, I’m not that sure that it is.) But, so yeah. Angel’s being all manly now. Which I’m mocking right now but I like it because I’m not so sure I could keep my rock-like self intact if he went all emotional and started sobbing. Not that I can picture him blubbering.

“The restaurant?” I’m sincerely surprised. And confused. Last time I checked, he was a vampire, and not really the outgoing type. “But you don’t eat.”

Let me get this straight. I do realize we’ve spent years apart and he might have changed. But it still sounds so… different from the Angel I knew. Is he often taking Cordelia to restaurants now? Is it a weekday kind of thing, or just a big-event choice? Does he sit there and eat nothing? I couldn’t bear that, me eating and him just staring at his full plate and not eating.

“It doesn’t matter,” he explains calmly. “I can eat, it just has no taste whatsoever. But I like it. It keeps me busy, I like spending quality time with the people I love, and… well, it just makes me feel human.”

I feel so intrusive suddenly. It sounds like private stuff… maybe I’m supposed to know these kinds of things, maybe I shouldn’t have to ask to get it. Okay, let’s stop that right now. It’s stuff I *was* supposed to know. We’re still in 2001, two years after he left me.

“Oh… g-good then. Where are we going?” Last time he took me some place… let’s say normal, it was to the movies, and we saw that weird foreign movie… when did he learn to pick a restaurant?

“I checked the hotel restaurant and it has a nice menu. Plus it’ll save us a run in the sunlight. Let’s go.” I follow him as he walks towards a door. Just before he walks through it, he looks at me and smiles. This genuine smile instantly warms me up. “Buffy? I‘m so glad you’re here.”

And instantly my heart wrenches. This is no different. I have to act, as I’ve been acting with my friends.

I smile back but it hurts.

**********

How come I can’t enjoy TV like any normal person? Since I was brought back (it always comes down to that now), I can’t remember one single time where TV provided me some kind of relief. It used to. So tonight is like every night, and this rerun of The Late Show isn’t funny.

“Bye, David,” I mutter as I switch it off.

I run a hand down my face. I can’t wait for Dawn to get home, because then I’ll have something to think about, something to work with. When I’m alone? It’s the worst. It’s always the same things that come to my mind, over and over again. All these things I feel guilty about: sex with Spike,not being there for Dawn, not being there for Willow, Tara getting shot, my being a coward with Angel… I always manage to come up with something new to add to my guilt list as time passes by. And there’s nothing I can do about anything. Except the Angel part.

I’ve been toying with the idea of calling him for a couple of days now, since Dawn asked me if I could tell her about our encounter back in October. The fact that she asked me that… it set the whole thing off again. No wonder this was the worst year of my life. I had people genuinely caring for me and I pretty much pushed them away. My friends and Dawn and Giles…

… and Angel.

**********

“So… what are you up to?” I ask, trying to sound casual. The restaurant is quite small, but it’s nice. It feels comfy.

“It doesn’t really matter,” he replies softly.

“It does.” Suddenly I don’t feel like talking about myself at all. “I mean… how’s Cordelia? And Wesley?”

“Cordy’s fine, but her visions… they’re getting more and more painful, they’re killing her. I feel sorry for her, she doesn’t deserve that much pain.”

“That’s what it takes,” I whisper to myself.

“What?” he frowns. I don’t think he heard what I said, but he’s picking up vibes already.

“Nothing.” I shrug it off. “So what about the rest of them? Wesley?” I hope the conversation takes off from here because I don’t have anyone else to ask about after Wesley.

“Wesley’s still in charge, and… well, he’s doing good. Nothing in particular, y’know, he’s just Wesley. Fred and Gunn are doing well too. Or I hope so. I kind of left Fred in the middle of a conversation.”

“Fred being…?” I realize there’s still so much I don’t know.

“Oh. Right. Um, a girl we brought back from another dimension at the end of May.” So 2001 *is* a good year for bringing-back, and Fred’s a girl. “She’s nice. Not yet completely used to the big city life, but she’s nice.”

“Sorry for being so duh, but… explain to me again the leaving her in the middle of a conversation?”

“Cordy got Willow’s phone call.” He’s looking down now. “I… I just lost it. She was yelling, ‘she’s alive, Buffy’s alive,’ across the hotel and I just… couldn’t believe it. I ran to the phone like a crazy man and then after I talked to Willow I called you and the next thing I knew I was in my car… I left Fred on the stairs where we were talking and I barely said goodbye. The news just made me crazy. It still feels like a dream to have you right here.” He looks up and smiles.

I’m sick and tired of this, it hurts too much. I can’t smile, I can’t pretend everything is all right.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“You’re not doing well.” It’s a statement so I don’t answer, but I can’t help looking down a little. “Buffy?”

Okay. It’s time to be honest, or to go on with the acting.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve barely touched your food,” he says.

He’s right. He’s been eating all along, and I haven’t. I think part of me still needs to get a grip on the idea that I need food to live, and anyway I never really feel hungry.

“I know. I’m sorry… I’m not really hungry. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He’s puzzled. As dumb as it sounds, it was easier at mom’s funeral. He knew the problem back then. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Don’t worry.” I hate myself. Why did I just say that? Why do I go on with the acting?? I told *Spike*, for God’s sake! And I can’t tell Angel? How are things going to turn out if they start off this bad?

“You don’t have a nothing face.” I would have smiled at the recollection but I’m too busy hating myself right now. Someone please hand me a gun or something so that everything ends once and for all. But abruptly, Angel rises up. “Come on, we’re going.”

“Where?” I look at him, bewildered.

“Somewhere where it can be just the two of us.”

He doesn’t grab my hand and stand me up with a smile and a knowing look like in any good movie. He just looks at me. I know he could wait the whole evening.

I can still detect amazement in his eyes, but right now it’s mostly a request that lights up his look.

“I’m coming.”

**********

I turn the TV on again. David Letterman is still happily talking to Meg Ryan and I still don’t care. I switch it off, and then I set my eyes on the hi-fi. Some music will do me good. I only have to press play because Dawn was playing a CD before she left.

It’s been a long long time since I looked into the mirror
I guess that I was blind
Now my reflection is getting clearer
Now that you’re gone things will never be the same again

Ah-ah. Great. The kind of song that echoes so much with your life you look at the CD to check if you’re not the one who created it during your sleep.
Now the funny bit would be to figure out who I was talking about when I wrote “Now that you’re gone things will never be the same again,” because I actually have a few options. I’m thinking Angel, but it could also be Spike, or maybe Giles. Even if, in Spike’s case, the phrase “Thank god you’re gone, things will never be the same again” would be more appropriate.

I know that you had to go away
I died just a little, and I feel it now
You’re the one I need
I believe that I would cry just a little
Just to have you back now
Here with me
Here with me

Oh god, I hate this. Like my inner voice isn’t enough, now I have a sound track to echo my life. I wonder if I would cry to have Angel back (if there was no more curse, obviously. Thank god there’s no curse in the song because I would have freaked out)… I’m always thinking we’ve grown apart too much anyway now. But you know, you still have this little voice inside your head telling you just the opposite, that the two of you would be perfect for each other now. Anyway. It’s just nonsense.
As for Giles… I know he’s going to go back to England and I hate it. I want him so much to be here. Not because I need someone to take over whenever I don’t feel like it, more because I want to be able to go to his place and talk to him. On the phone, it’s just not the same.

I will never forget the look upon your face
How you turned away and left without a trace
But I understand that you did what you had to do
And I thank you

Okay… I think I’m gonna have to turn off the stereo. I mean, this song is totally me and I don’t like it. It reminds me of graduation day, it reminds me of Glory and Giles leaving. It’s just all bad. But it also makes me realize how similar the two situations have been. Angel leaving me on grad day, for my own good; Giles leaving me after Glory, for my own good. Me, not really believing they could do it. Me thanking them (at least thanking them in my head) afterwards, finally understanding why they did it. It’s kinda scary, really.

Just because I’m curious, I take a look at the CD. Michelle Branch. Funny, this name rings a bell. Where did I… Oh, god. I remember. She was that singer at the Bronze that night Giles left. When I kissed Spike for the second time. Oh god.

I drop the CD.

**********

“I was in heaven.”

That stops him dead in his tracks. Well, sort of, because he wasn’t walking, he was turning the fans on. But he freezes. Then he slowly turns to me. We must look pretty stupid, both standing there, all frozen like in that little room. I don’t even remember how we got there, but I guess it’s a room Angel booked at the hotel.

“You mean…” His voice is a whisper.

“I mean it felt good.” My voice is steadier than I thought it’d be. It may even be a bit sharp. “I was warm and loved and I knew my time was over. And… they pulled me out of there. Willow, Xander, Tara and Anya. When they did that spell… when they brought me back, they tore it away from me.”

“Oh my God.”

With Spike, it was easier. I could tell him to shut up about it and go away because I don’t care about Spike. It doesn’t matter what he felt when he learned this. Angel still means so much to me that it makes it painful that he hurts for me.

“I just thought you might wanna know.” It’s a terribly lame thing to say. I know. But the most important is… I did it. I said it.

And then he does this thing. He walks over to me and grabs my arms roughly. I feel overwhelmed and I want to cry but as always, tears won’t come up.

“Why?” He is yelling. “Why… why did they do it? Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds so angry, and he is shaking me.

I abruptly release myself from his grip, pulling back, sharply.

“Because I hate it!!” I scream like I never screamed since I’ve been back. “Because they’re my friends and I hate feeling like this!! You think it’s easy for me? You think I have this all figured out?? You looked so happy that I was here, I didn’t want to crush your joy!! Everything is so hard and I can’t do anything about it and…”

Finally, tears are coming, or rather for a second I feel them burning at the back of my eyes and I feel them in my throat, but they never make it to my cheeks. Angel takes me in his arms and holds me tight against his chest, and I can’t talk anymore. It doesn’t feel good at all because he’s almost choking me and I want to move back but he’s holding me too tight.

“Buffy, shh.” His voice isn’t soft but somehow I think it still has more effect than if he had just stood there frozen or if he had burst into tears. “Buffy… oh god, you’re so strong.”

“You have no idea…” I manage to whisper. “How hard it is.”

“Just being alive?”

“Yeah. I feel so confused…” I move my arms against his chest so they don’t hurt anymore and his grip begins to feel like a hug. “And I can never be happy. I should…” Slowly I realize we’re heading towards the bed. He sits on it and makes me sit down just next to him. “I should be happy to be back with them but I’m not, and I should be able to cry because I feel so bad all the time… but I can’t. It’s like I’m a rock or something, Angel. Like I can’t feel anything and I wonder if it’s always gonna be like this. Angel, I --”

That’s when he kisses me.

**********

I turned off the hi-fi and I didn’t pick up the CD.

For a moment I stared at the phone and I wanted to call Angel but I didn’t. I thought about calling Giles, Willow or Xander, but I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I just dropped the idea of calling anyone.

I don’t care anymore if the memories wash through me. I close my eyes. I would like to be able to remember that kiss. Angel’s lips on mine, his coldness that cooled me. I won’t fool myself – I can’t. Each time I try to feel it, I have Spike memories instead. The bathroom part, mostly. Other stuff I’d rather not remember, too. But I’m not giving up. If I need to remember my whole history with Angel, I will. I want to remember his embrace.

An embrace that means something more than raw desire and sick sex games.

**********

I don’t think I’ve ever had so many feelings running through me in such a rush at once. Or maybe I have. Maybe during that first kiss little Charlie gave me back in sixth grade, or that night Angel and I made love. Yes, definitely with the making love part. But this kiss is different. Because making love with Angel, I could feel it coming. I told Willow, there’s a point where it becomes obvious it has to go to the next step. Anyway, I knew it was coming before it happened. Here… it’s like you got an empty bowl for weeks and all of a sudden someone fills the bowl up and makes you eat it in a matter of seconds. I was never good with the metaphors, it’s the best one I can come up with. You have this feeling of fullness and it’s stronger than ever because there was not even a little fullness previously, only emptiness.

I kiss him back, desperately. I need to touch his skin, his lips, I need to kiss him back. For a second, I consider making love with him right here and now. Just to keep this warm feeling going. He would undress me and I would undress him and we would kiss over and over and he would make love to me. And then he would turn into Angelus and he would kill me. I would die in his arms as we’re making love and I would go back to where I was. Except this is a big fantasy of mine and it’s completely irrational, isn’t it? I’m not even sure I’d go back to where I was if I died again.

I kiss him nevertheless, like there’s no tomorrow. He encircles me with his arms and I get these feelings I had forgotten, being with Riley and all: the fact that you feel cold and hot at the same time because his body is cold but his embrace is warm, and as the kisses go on you can literally feel him heating up and there’s no way to describe how sweet it feels.

I touch his skin and stroke his hair, our fingers intertwine and I know this has to stop soon but I don’t want it to. I love this rush of love and warmth and desire running through my body. Oh God. I press my lips against his and I softly run my tongue over his upper lip as his hands gently stroke my face.

For a second I feel like there is a heaven on earth, like I have a reason to be here. I never got this rush of feelings where I was this summer. It felt good all the time but there wasn’t any rush. It changes everything.

But then as quickly as this kiss started it’s broken, and we’re facing each other, panting.

**********

I’ve often wondered, especially for the last few weeks, if that kiss didn’t set it all off. As difficult as it is for me to say, that’s what I felt later on, with Spike. The rush.

First the kiss. That kiss after we were all dancing and singing. The songs were supposed to make the truth surface, right? And now that I can consider this with some detachment, I believe it really was just that. I wanted so much to recapture the feeling Angel had given me earlier… and well, the spell couldn’t bring him here so it made me kiss *some*one and on Sunnydale ground Spike was pretty well ranked as a someone, despite the vampire thing and the fact that I hated him. I mean, come one, otherwise it’d have been Giles or Xander. Seen from that point of view, I might even be glad the spell made me pick Spike.

Anyway. First the stupid musical kiss. I’m not hot for vampires. But I… I have to admit Angel and Spike made me feel things Riley never did. I’m sure it’s a coincidence that they’re both vampires, or at least that’s what I’m trying to fool myself into believing – I seem to do that a lot. The denial thing again, huh? And anyway, only Angel “made me hot” (did I mention how much I hate this phrase?). Spike… there was too much disgust. Looking back on it, it’s really ironic how things piled up in no time. This first kiss gave me the same rush of feelings even though it wasn’t as strong as it had been with Angel. I believe it’s because there was no love on my part with Spike – if Angel kisses me, fifty years from now, I know there will always be some love left. But Spike, he was the only one around.

And that’s where I hate myself. I could have called him at that point. “Hi Angel, it’s Buffy, I’m feeling a bit low, wanna come see me for some kissing?” Of course I’m being sarcastic, but you see my point. The thing is, I’m such an idiot. Part of me is always like, no, no, you have to be strong, keep it to yourself. Someone please tell that part of me that being strong doesn’t mean being an asshole and shutting people out… because every time things get rough, this part takes over, and I act like this dumb superhero who won’t ask for help from her friends and I’m tired of it.

It seems pretty natural that I moved on to sex with Spike. I’m still a bit confused about why I kissed him as we fought though, but it’s all about what you feel right when it happens, not days after. Anyway, I clearly remember thinking about making love with Angel back at the hotel. I swear if there hadn’t been the damned curse… So, well, Spike has no curse. Sad to say, but he provided the sex Angel couldn’t. That’s terrible to say, I swear I’ll never even mouth these words. The worst still being… I enjoyed it. Just the sex. The minutes where my brain would think about nothing else but how good it felt and how this or that particular stroke was awfully orgasmic or whatever, and when I came and the few instants afterwards where you feel warm and fulfilled. Of course, because it was Spike, right after came the disgust and the shame and the guilt and everything, but each time I had *felt* something. That’s why I kept going back. I was dying for Spike to make me come each time I felt low and oh, god, what kind of life goal is that? Spike, I wish you had been a real loser in bed.

I wonder what would have happened, hadn’t Angel kissed me.

**********

“I’m sorry for this.” Angel looks down, feeling obviously guilty.

At that very instant I’m tired of the guilt. I want to say ‘don’t be’ but the words never come to my mouth.

“I felt something,” is all I can state.

“That’s good, right?” He looks up and flashes a smile. He gets it.

“Yeah. I think. I mean, I-I thought I couldn’t… Anyway. Thanks for that.”

I’m thanking him for kissing me? How lame is that? I swear Dawn never hears about that. Not that Dawn is exactly at the center of my thoughts right now. Angel and I are looking at each other blankly. I’m dying to kiss him and feel that…

“I know this sounds like I’m repeating myself and I’ll try not to say it next time we see each other, but… we can’t. You know that.”

“Yeah.” Of course he’s been thinking about it as much as I have. “It’s just… it felt so good I was… contemplating the idea. Daydreaming? Wishing that...?”

“I know the feeling.” And I have the feeling that had he been younger and street-like, he would have added, ‘You know I want to take you right on this bed’ or something similar, but maybe it’s just my fantasies again.

“I wish things were different,” I utter.

“You want to talk about it?” he offers. “I mean… it’ll do you good.”

I smile and this time my smile is genuine. It’s not broad yet, but I mean it. Yeah, real talking will do me some good.

“Okay.”

He lies on the bed and I snuggle into his arms where I feel loved. I know it’s the limit, I know nothing more will happen.

But for once I don’t feel too bad.

**********

Angel could have given me all I needed. Except for the sex. I know it’s crazy, but I can’t help thinking sex was kind of good. I’m not talking sex with Spike or even rough sex, or gentle sex per se, just sex in the general sense. Because, as I explained, it provided me those rushes of feelings I needed to keep going. The stupid part is that the guilt coming afterwards because of Spike ruined it all. Ah. I need to remind Xander to have a better member of the male society within reach next time they bring me back. See, I can sort of joke about it now. That has to mean I’m dealing with it.

The phone seems to be waiting for me, hanging still in doorway (not that it has much choice). I can’t just…

Hell with it, I’m calling.

**********

You don’t have days off when you’re a superhero. That summer… those were my days off. Now it’s over. I’m back in this world where everything is bright and hard and where I have to fight everyday.

Angel’s a relief though, because I know he never gets days off either. We didn’t talk much about it, but I know he’s worried for Cordelia and a bit of guilt on his part for leaving Fred in the middle of a conversation wouldn’t’ surprise me. Come to think of it, I feel guilty about leaving Giles with everything without explaining anything. I hope he knows I didn’t mean any harm because I’ll probably never say sorry O’m sorry - again, it’s just me. It’s not like I mean to be like that.

“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Yes,” I smile slightly. “I drove here by myself, I can go back.”

“I know you can. You’re still the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“Yay for me. Go strong Buffy.”

He had the room booked for the night but we both knew it wasn’t such a great idea. First because our cities need us – and even if I’m going through the motions as far as patrols are concerned, I keep sight of this – and anyway, even on a personal level, we just can’t afford to spend a night in the same hotel (let alone the same room). For my part, my anguish level is high enough as it is already. So we decided together that it was better to part at nightfall, and that’s the exact reason why we’re heading towards my car right now.

When we reach it, we stop near the driver’s door and just look at each other. We have our own lives now, I know that. But part of me still hangs on to the idea that life could have been a little nicer on us sometimes – in other words, the part that was craving for love-making back at the hotel is now toying with the idea of a reunion. I know it’s not possible, but it doesn’t change what I long for.

“So… this is the part where we say goodbye,” I say helpfully.

“It is.” He gently puts a strand of hair behind my ear. “Remember what I told you in the room?” I nod, but he goes on. “If you ever need to talk to someone, if you just need someone who knows what you’re going through to be there… if you need anything, if you’re feeling low, I’m there. I’ll always be, all right? It doesn’t matter that there are monsters creeping in L.A. all the time. I can always be there for you.”

I would like to say the same but it wouldn’t mean anything. I’m not in the emotional state of providing anyone any comfort, and we both know it.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m counting on you, Buffy. You know our lives are… let’s just say complicated. I can’t call you just to check on you, we just… we don’t do that. It hurts so much when… it’s not like we can phone each other every other day and talk about our separate lives.”

“It’ll hurt.”

“Yes, my point exactly. So… I won’t call. Except if anything happens, I won’t. But I’ll answer if you need me. I always will.”

“I promise I’ll call if I need to, Angel.”

“Alright then. I don’t… it’s gonna be hard, but I don’t want you to feel too bad.”

I nod. Here it is. End of the reunion. I can’t…

On an impulse, I kiss him. It’s just… it’s a terrible thing to say but it doesn’t have much to do with the everlasting love I feel for Angel. Love makes it sweeter, more cherishing, but it’s the rush of feelings running through my body I want back. Thank god he doesn’t push me away. Actually, he completely returns the kiss. I’m not sure what his reason is, understanding or love, but I’m not sure I want to find out.

When our lips part… I know this is goodbye. He knows it too so we just look at each other for a few seconds. No words needed. He smiles.

“I want to hear from you,” he says gently.

“You will.”

We share one last look and then he goes. I get in the car and I never look back as I start up the engine and leave the parking space. Never look back, it hurts too much.

As I drive out of town, I shiver. I didn’t mean to, and then I shiver with apprehension. The cold feeling, or rather the absence of feeling is back, I can sense it in my flesh, in my bones. I quickly stop at KFC to buy dinner for everybody back home, in a fleeting wish that it’ll make me feel something good to bring something back for them.

I know soon I’ll be back to acting. I can’t help it. As I take the highway to Sunnydale, I have the feeling this year isn’t going to get any easier. It overwhelms me. I won’t control everything, I can feel it.

It’s going to be a long year.

**********

I still have a lot of time before Dawn comes home with Janice. So I grab the phone and after taking one deep breath, I dial Angel’s phone number. I realize this is the first time *ever* that I’m calling him. Scary. I’m actually really nervous about talking to him on the phone. What am I going to say?

“Angel Investigations, we help the helpless. Please leave a message.”

I hang up, taken aback. No one’s there? I know it’s a self-centered reaction, but since I never call, I was expecting someone to answer. Maybe they’re on a mission. I can’t give up though, not now that I’ve tried once. I dial Angel’s cell phone number.

Even more bewildering, it doesn’t even dial. It’s like Angel is lost in Nowhere, Iowa and the phone call can’t get through. I thought the cover was national though. The company had a slogan like, “the only place you can’t reach one of our cell phones is at the bottom of the ocean” or something similar.

Where can Angel be? I’m feeling a little worried.

I guess I’ll call back tomorrow. I guess he’s busy. Maybe he’s broken his phone. Maybe he doesn’t care about me anymore. I go back to the couch and I grab my knees as I close my eyes. I wanted so much to hear his voice, I wanted so much to say that I’m sorry. I wanted to tell him that I’ve made so many mistakes and I feel so bad about all of them and I wanted to explain myself to him. I wanted him to take me in his arms and listen to me telling everything that happened and why it happened. I’d tell him about Spike and I think he would get it.

He would be like Xander though. Disappointed. They both think so much of me, sometimes like I’m not human, like I’m better than this.

I wanted to hear his voice.

************

“What am I, Angel? What am I now?”

“You’ve always been better than all of us, Buffy. You sacrificed yourself for the good, do you have any idea how few people would actually do that?”

“Do you think I was some sort of angel?”

“I think you still are. You’re beautiful, Buffy. You’re a living angel.”

“Except I’ve been torn out of heaven. Like I didn’t deserve to be there. Like a fallen angel.”

“You’re a fallen angel, but see, you can’t do anything like everybody else. You didn’t leave heaven because you didn’t deserve it. You left it because the world needs you so much, Buffy. You’re one of the strongest beings I know, and the purest. You’re a beautiful fallen angel, Buffy. Never forget it. You deserve everything good the world can offer.”

She’s an angel, but she can’t feel it
She got wings, she can’t see ‘em
She’s an angel, she can’t feel it
[…]
Bright diamond eyes with daggers beneath them
She carries the chains of a million decisions
That weren’t really hers to begin with anyway
But she carries them all, all the people around her
Never even notice that she’s very very tired
[…]
She’s an angel, but she can’t feel it
She got wings, she can’t see ‘em
She’s an angel, she can’t feel it

"Angel", Music and lyrics by James Marsters
for Ghost of the Robot