TITLE: With Autumn

AUTHOR: babyxeyes

TIMELINE: Post BtVS season six & AtS season three

DEDICATION: To everyone who thought it was really crappy that Angel never went to / thought of Buffy during the Connor ordeals. B/A SHIPPERS!

NOTE: Not for C/A or B/S shippers.

FEEDBACK: What did you think? Review, please.

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The cool night air whipped across the young woman's cheeks, leaving them rosy and chilled. Smoothing a lone strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, Buffy took a deep breath as she entered the empty cemetery. She felt her sharpened stake pushing against her ribs from where it was hidden inside her jacket. Its presence was almost reassuring, but she wasn't here to slay. Not tonight.

She walked, slowly, through the rows and rows of graves. It was funny, she mused, how she had come here almost every night for the past six years of her life, and had never really realized how important it was to people. The cemetery. The grave. It was all a mourner had left. Their only link of communication. The only way to get close. Just a cold stone, carved by a stranger who never even knew them at all. But still. For some reason, this place mattered. It felt important. Connected.

Finally, she reached her desired destination. Checking the stone for verification, she kneeled down in front of it, brushing her fingers against the lettering. Letting all her breath out in a sigh, she cleared her throat. The small arrangement of flowers she had been carrying suddenly didn't seem like enough. She wished that she had brought something more. Something....better. She silently promised to do so the next time she came.

Putting them down in front of her, she clasped her hands together nervously.

"Hey, Tara. I just..wanted to say hi. I brought you these. I, um..I remember you telling us that you liked them. You said they reminded you of spring." She swallowed, hard, hating how much this hurt. "Willow's doing a lot better. I haven't talked to her, but Giles says she's making progress. I'll bet she's right at home in London. She got into Oxford a while back, you know? She didn't go, obviously, but I'm sure she's learning lots now."

Buffy played with the rings on her slender fingers, as her brain slowly relaxed and allowed her to just talk with her lost friend. "The rest of the gang is alright too. Dawn's starting up at the new high school in a few days. Whatever money we had before will be completely gone once she finishes all her shopping. She misses you a lot. She really loved you. Like the big sister I couldn't be, I guess."

"Things are okay, now, though. We're talking more, and she's learning how to fight." Buffy paused, knowing what Tara would be thinking if she really were next to her. "Spike's..gone. After, um..after everything, he just took off. It's better this way, though. I wanted to thank you, for everything you did for me. For just, understanding." She could feel the tears prickling against her eyelids and she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. I'm sorry the bullet killed you, and not me, like it was supposed to." A tear slid down Buffy's cheek and she wiped it away, quickly.

"But I get it now." She offered, weakly. "Life. And why you guys brought me back. Because if I didn't know where you are now and how happy you are there..I'd want you back here too." She sighed, shrugging slightly, "Well, I'd better get home. I'll come back soon, okay? With more flowers." She promised.

Rising to her shaky legs, she had walked six steps when she felt something nearby. She was immediately alert, with her stake already positioned in her capable hand. Standing perfectly still, she waited, calmly, slowly, easily, until she heard the crackle of leaves behind her.

Whirling around instantly, the stake high in the air, her eyes fell onto the last person in the entire world she had expected to greet. His hand came up in an effort to block her attack, although he already knew she had recognized him.

"Angel?" She breathed, in amazement.

"Buffy." His voice sounded tired, and his eyes looked as though they had never been as relieved to see her. His Slayer.

"My God. What are you-"She broke off, reaching forward and lacing her arms around his neck. She sniffled as tears stung at her eyes. His arms came around her, and he rubbed at her back, almost instinctively.

"Is everything alright?" She asked when they finally broke apart.

He led her to a large tree, and sat down on the ground with her. Both thought of Joyce, and the last time they had met in this cemetery, nothing but the moon in the sky.

"It's been a long summer." Came his reply. He looked weak, as though he hadn't gotten any sleep in weeks, and Buffy looked at him, questioningly. "I wanted to see you."

"Angel, what is it?" She read through him, knowing his words, his eyes, and his pain. She knew him. And he could have cried. So he told her.

He told her about Cordelia, and how she was in love with him. He told her about Connor's birth, and about the last words Darla had spoken to him. He told her about Holtz, and the things Angelus and Darla had done to his family. He told her about Wesley, and he told her about Connor's kidnapping. He told her about the loss that had ripped through him, and then he told her about his son's return.

He told her about the way he wished he had been dead, for three months straight, barely staying sane through it all. He told her about Cordelia's disappearance, and he told her how Wesley, had saved him. He told her how, when he could finally see clearly, Sunnydale was all he saw. She was all he saw.

"Cordelia's in love with you?" The words escaped from her lips, true and unexpected, and he couldn't help but chuckle that this was what she chose to spoke on first. He figured that, in her place, he would do the same.

"I don't know how to tell her that there's someone else in the picture." He said, gently.

"I could do it for you." She offered, helpfully, holding up her stake. "I mean, I could take her out back in high school."

Angel smiled, and she leaned forward, brushing her fingers over a fading scar on his right cheek. "We'll find your vision girl again." Her voice became serious, "And we'll fix things with Connor. Whatever they told him..whatever he was raised to believe..they were all lies. You are his father, Angel. And I can see how much you love him."

"Buffy," He began, shaking his head. "I didn't come here to put all this on you. I haven't forgotten what it's like to live here, and I'm sure that you're dealing with your own things right now. I came, to see you. To talk to you. To tell you, that I missed you."

She gave him a small smile, nodding. "I know the feeling."

He reached out, entwining his fingers with hers. "When Connor mellows out a little, I want you to meet him. I want you to see the pictures of him as a baby. I wanted you to be there, for the real thing. To hold him, and give him his bottle. But things were so crazy, and then he was gone-"

She put up a hand, "It's alright. It would have been really hard, you know? To see your little boy..the whole thing wouldn't really have played out like I used to imagine it happening. And anyway..last year, I wasn't at my best..I probably wouldn't have been able to handle all this." She sat up a bit, "But we can do it now. I'm not going anywhere. Are you?"

He smiled, "Not for a long while."

They stood up, and Angel tightened the grip he had on her hand.

"So. How was your summer?" He asked, turning his head to look at her as they walked out, towards the entrance.

"Oh, you know. Death, destruction, rebuilding. The usual." She looked back, catching a glimpse of Tara's grave among the others, and a bittersweet smile appeared on her face. "I wonder what autumn is bringing this year."

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FIN.

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